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btsgotjams27 · 10 months

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things you don't know | jjk

summary: it’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. after moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

✨ title: things you don't know | one shot ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: M/17+ ✨ genre/au: angst | ex best friends!au | ✨ word count: 4.3k ✨ warnings: language, drinking, light kisses, miscommunication, reader jokes about unaliving her other best friend, mentions of throwing up ✨ prompt: “i thought i’d never see you again” ✨ a/n: heyoooo. so this is loosely based off a friendship i had in high school and in case you're wondering (irl) i haven't seen this man in over 17 years (oh gawd i'm old). anyway, thank you to @shina913 for being my beta.

✨ mini-series masterlist ✨

You were a fool to believe nothing could tear you and your best friend apart. Just like in the movies you'd watch for hours, you realized you were not the main character; he was. You were only part of the supporting cast, the best friend–not the one he wanted. Someone else had been occupying his mind, his thoughts, and you guessed you weren't privy to know all of him.

You wondered if you became the villain in his story. Were you the other woman? How could you have known if he never told you? He was your best friend. The one you shared everything with–your hopes, dreams, and even the dumbest little details of your life.

And maybe you expected too much. Maybe you had built a world of sunshine and rainbows and believed no storms could ever weather through. Maybe you cared too much, thinking he felt the same.

But at long last, you had become the girl jealous of Josie–the person who took away your best friend.

The city you lived in had grown vastly the last time you were here. Multiple lanes were added to the highways, and fields of land were cleared out for new homes, shops, and restaurants to try. Though the only thing on your mind was not bumping into him.

His was the only face you didn't want to run into in a city that felt familiar and unfamiliar. It felt silly. You're a grown woman with a car and an apartment–had bills to pay, and running into one person shouldn't haunt you as it did.

You might have done some detective work, going through old high school friends lists on Facebook and Instagram, lurking to see if he would show up. But as you suspected, he didn't exist on social media, so your chances of seeing him increased in your weird little mind.

The old hangout places were on your no-go list. Remember, you're trying to avoid him. He has not been on your mind every waking second, minute and hour. You weren't wondering how he was doing or if he was okay. He didn't deserve to occupy your mind, take all your energy.

But if you were to bump into him, you had a monologue ready to tell him how he had fucked up your mind, spiked all your insecurities, and hoped he and his stupid little girlfriend lived unhappily ever after. He deserved that, at least.

"Did you see Lillie's Instagram post? The one where a bunch of them were out celebrating Josie's birthday?" Lana asked, sipping on her iced vanilla latte. Lana was another high school best friend who didn't stomp all over your heart.

And regarding Lillie's post, it was hard not to see it when everyone you knew was tagged. Some things never change, you guessed. The same circle of friends, the same drama, the same gossip, but then again, you were sitting with one of your oldest friends.

"Yeah, I saw it."

And you also noticed how Jungkook wasn't in any photos. After doing your detective research and scouring through the internet. He was a ghost, not even showing up in tagged photos. You were hoping to get a glimpse of him in the background, but you hadn't seen a picture of him in years, so you had no idea if he had grown into that big 'ol nose of his or if he had gotten those piercings and tattoos he's always wanted. There was no trace of this man, not even in Josie's pictures.

Last you heard, they were still together, and you always rolled your eyes hard, remembering what Jeon Jungkook did to you. Didn't even have the fucking balls to say it to your face, but in a letter instead.

You suspected it was all Josie's fault. Probably afraid you'd steal him away, or he'd prefer to hang out with you. And you understood, he wasn't your boyfriend or anything, just a friend. Ex-best friend, that is. So you supposed any girl that did like Jungkook would be intimidated by your friendship.

"Have you seen Jungkook at all?"

Lana knew what went down–dropping you like a fly, like you didn't exist. She had teased you like a madwoman because you were crushing hard on his friend, Jimin, and somehow ended up befriending Jungkook.

"Nope," you said flatly.

"So, you know how we always talk about Jungkook being untraceable? I think I found him," she said, pulling out her phone.

Your jaw clenched before huffing out a breath. Lana liked to poke the bear when it came to Jungkook. You knew it wasn't intentional, and there was a part that held onto those painful memories because you weren't over what he did to you. Countless nights of questions and if you could've done anything to save your friendship. Wondering what you did wrong and why he picked Josie instead of you. You thought he had feelings and just didn’t want to act on it.

Lana slid the phone over, her two fingers zooming in on a brightened photo. "It's definitely Jungkook," she pointed to a figure in the background.

You narrowed your eyes as she moved the photo around. Your heart skipped a beat. You'd recognize that nose anywhere. It was him. He wasn't a ghost. There was actual evidence that he existed.

"I searched for more photos, but nothing else came up."

You chuckled. "Of course not. Jeon Jungkook doesn't exist on social media. It was never his thing anyway. It was always Josie who liked the attention."

"As a couple, they make no sense to me. What does he see in her anyway?" Lana pondered, sucking up the last of her latte.

Josie was popular and pretty and did every extracurricular activity known to man. Jungkook was quite the opposite: introverted, kept to himself, played games day and night, yet somehow they still ended up together.

"I don't know. Maybe she has a great personality or something," you answered.

She had everything and could’ve had anyone in the senior class, and something always bothered you about their relationship. You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Lana could see your despair and decided to change the subject. "What are you doing tonight? Jimin is having a small party and was super excited when I told him you moved back."

You narrowed your eyes, your lips thinned. "What are we? In high school again?"

"Come on, babe. It'll be just like old times. I'll even pick you up. I know you hate driving."

It's only been a week since you've moved back. You didn't even know where all of your cute clothes were. "I have nothing to wear." It was the best excuse you could come up with at the moment.

"I got you. Don't worry about it!"

Fuck—you should've opted for a different excuse.

"I thought you said this was a small party," you said, wearing a dress that was barely covering your ass. You'd get Lana back for putting you in the tightest dress.

"Trust me, this is small." Lana hooked her arm with yours, dragging you to the kitchen, where Jimin poured several soju bottles and sodas into a pitcher. It was quite the concoction.

“How can he afford this place?” you whispered as you stared at the fancy marbled island and large commercial refrigerator.

Lana shrugged. “I don’t think he lives by himself. Probably has roommates or something.”

"Ladies! You're here!" Jimin squealed, setting down the soju bottle. He hugged Lana before greeting you warmly. "Oh—it's so good to see you!" He wrapped his arms around you, moving you from side to side, digging his chin into your shoulder.

"It's good to see you too, Jimin. You're, um, still quite the host." His parties were all the rage in high school, and now that you look back, you're unsure what you saw in Jimin. He was a good guy, a great dancer, but he partied too much for your taste. Maybe you were shallow and just liked him for his looks.

"I have a reputation to uphold." He wiggled his eyebrows, handing you a shot glass. "I call this little drink 'Soju Sunrise.'" He held his glass, waiting for you to clink it against his.

"Here goes nothing." The glasses clack together, and the mixed liquids go down your throat as smooth as silk. Surprisingly, the cocktail is rather tasty, and you hold out your glass for another round.

"Yes! That's my girl!"

After multiple rounds of Jimin's Soju Sunrise, your body loosened up along with your tongue, being quite the chatterbox to everyone hanging around. The alcohol coursing through your veins made catching up with old friends less dull. Though you wish you could've had a sign plastered to you stating your job, why you were back, and what you've been up to. It would've made your life simpler.

As you exited the bathroom, Lana immediately pulled you into an empty bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"What the fuck, Lana?"

"He's here!" she exclaimed out of breath.

"Who?" Confusion sets on your face.

“He-who-must-not-be-named!”

"Voldemort?" You raised a brow, pouting your lips together.

She struck your head. You scowled, rubbing the spot. Still confused, you think back to the crowded room.

A lightbulb finally goes off. You blame the Soju Sunrise for making you an airhead. "You've got to be kidding me."

"She's here too."

Oh, how you'd rather be clawing your eyes out right now. It would hurt less than facing Jungkook and Josie after all these years.

You had your little monologue prepared and ready to go, but you didn't think you'd have to recite it. Did you even remember what you wanted to say?

You looked around the room and sprinted when you saw a window. Your hands fumbled with the lock, but it was too hard to open.

"What are you doing?" Lana asked, her eyebrows knitted together, watching you struggle.

"I'm gonna climb out the window." It was the only sensible thing to do.

"You're so fucking dramatic."

"It's the only way to avoid them."

Lana grabbed your arms and made you look at her. "You are a grown-ass woman. Put on your big girl panties and walk out that door with your head held high."

"But I don't wanna," you pout. "And I'm wearing granny panties." You lowered your head, staring at your dress, picturing the blush-colored panties with a little bow on the front.

"Granny panties with this dress?"

"What? I couldn't find other ones and I like full coverage." Curse you for not unpacking like you should've been doing.

"Would've been better if you went commando."

"Lana! I have some dignity."

"Do you, though? You won't even leave this room and face the one person who broke your heart."

"Thanks, Lana," you said flatly.

"You're welcome!" she smiled, shaking your body. "Come on. You can do this. I believe in you." You rolled your eyes, staring blankly at her. She scanned you from head to toe, then back up to your chest. "Sweetie, we gotta make sure your tits are stunning." She dragged down the top of the dress, ensuring the swells of your breasts were peeking through.

"Lana, I'm not trying to seduce the guy." Okay—maybe you developed a crush on him, but it's not like you were going to make a move, he had a girlfriend for fuck’s sake.

"Yeah, who cares? We're trying to make Josie jealous."

"This is so high school," you comment, digging through your purse for your lipstick.

"Your point is?" Lana blinked.

You huffed. Okay—fine. If this were the only time you'd see Jeon Jungkook and Kim Josie, then fuck it. You could pretend everything was great for five minutes. Your hand went underneath your dress, tugging off your granny panties and tossing them on the ground.

"Holy shit—going commando too?" Lana squealed and clapped excitedly.

Hiking your dress up just a smidge, you were ready to smile and lie through whatever this dreaded conversation would bring up, probably old feelings of hurt and regret.

You hooked your arm through Lana's, with your shoulders back and head held high. This was it. After all this time, you would face the son-of-a-bitch who broke your heart and the cruel witch who took him away.

You had class—at least, you hoped you did. So, you'd play it cool, be calm and collected. Pretend like you had your shit together.

That is until you turned the corner and immediately spotted them snuggled up in the corner. Josie looked like a lovesick puppy all over him. Jungkook, not so much.

You clutched Lana's arm tighter and came to a halt. You repeated your short monologue in your brain from the bedroom to the living room, but it was as if your mind had wiped everything and your brain's connectors were short-circuiting.

Your eyes glistened as you watched the two. Josie sat on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him. Your lower lip quivered, and your stomach sank. You weren't sure if you needed to hurl because of them or because of the soju. Perhaps both.

Jungkook pulled away from her grasp, seemingly annoyed by her show of affection. As soon as he turned away from her, his eyes landed on you.

You flashed a small smile and a wave of your hand. Who knew seeing Jungkook would make you feel the complete opposite of the narrative you had created? In your head, he was a heartless best friend who left you for a wicked witch, but here he was in the flesh and was just that big-nosed, doe-eyed boy whom you shared everything with. You missed him so much and wanted to catch up on life like no time had passed.

Lana turned to you. "Hey, what happened to the bad bitch persona? Aren't you gonna tell him off?"

"I'm so stupid, Lana. I can't do this." So much anger had been building up within the last seven years, but underneath that anger was just a girl who was heartbroken.

Lana nudged you in the ribs. You two watched as he pushed Josie off his lap, causing her to frown. You attempted to let go, but she pulled you in as Jungkook beelined toward you.

"Oh, my god! Jeon Jungkook in the flesh?" Lana said in a dramatic tone. "You do exist! I can't believe it. Well, I'm going to find myself another drink! Have fun catching up with your bestie!" She punched Jungkook's shoulder hard, and he scowled and flinched, massaging the spot.

You pressed your lips together, unsure what to say to him. It's been seven years since you last saw him. Once you graduated from high school, you were out of each other's hair. You were off to college a few hours away, and he stayed in town to attend a local university.

Jungkook cut off all forms of communication. It was like your friendship ceased to exist, which hurt you the most. The last thing you received from him was a measly little letter explaining that he was with Josie and that she didn't want you coming in between their relationship.

You couldn't understand why Jungkook couldn't just talk to you. Josie was never mentioned in conversations, nor did you see him with her, so it felt out of left field. If Jungkook told you he liked someone, you'd never stand in the way of his happiness. You thought he knew you better than that, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe you didn't know each other at all.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Jungkook said, the corners of his mouth curving into a warm smile.

You only paid attention to the glow-up Jungkook had. He did get the lip piercings he wanted, along with the tattoos. You could see them peeking through underneath his gray hoodie hanging off his shoulder. The white tank top defined his taut chest, letting you know he liked to work out. His damp hair curled in all the right places against the nape of his neck and his forehead. The silver chain adorning his neck looked pretty enough to tug on.

"You look great, by the way," Jungkook added, breaking you out of your daze.

"Oh, thanks. So do you." You manage to squeak out finally; then you remember how provocative you looked in your dress compared to sweet, innocent, looking Josie in her pink floral sundress, who was making their way toward you.

"Jungkook, can we please get a drink?" Josie whined, giving you the once over before latching onto Jungkook like the leech she was.

"You remember—"

Josie interrupted, "Yeah–don't remind me. Can we go?"

Josie stormed off toward the kitchen, leaving you and Jungkook behind. Did he have any say in their relationship, or did she tug him around like a puppy on a short leash?

You're stunned but not surprised by her remark. Once a bitch, always a bitch.

Turning your attention back to him, you realize you have nothing to say. The scars from this friendship were carved deeply into your heart; not even the monologue you rehearsed could dissipate the pain he caused.

"I—I gotta go," you said, taking off toward the bedroom because you couldn't fucking leave your underwear on a random stranger's floor. You had to save whatever dignity you had left.

"Wait—" He tried to grab your attention and followed you, walking through the hallway toward a room. He watched you go from one end of the room to the other, searching for something. "What are you doing in my room?"

You straighten your posture, slowly turning to him. "This is your room?"

"Yeah, Jimin and I share this place along with another friend.”

Oh, now you were going to fucking kill Lana. She knew. She must have! That's why she wanted to bring you here. And out of all the rooms, you had to pick Jeon Jungkook’s to leave your underwear in?

"Great," you said in exasperation. You turned back around in search of your panties. "Where the fuck is it?" It could only be in so many places.

"Where's what?"

You got down on your hands and knees, tugging your dress down, looking underneath the bed for your granny panties. "Nothing," you grumbled. "Fuck it. Forget it." You stood, walking past Jungkook. He could have your underwear as a keepsake, you suppose.

"Hey—" He gripped your arm. "Come on. This is how you greet me after all this time?"

You scoffed, glaring at him. "You're fucking kidding me, right? You're lucky I'm even speaking to you. You don't even deserve that."

He lets go of your arm. "We kind of ended on a sour note, but it wasn't my fault."

He couldn't see it, but smoke was fuming from your ears, and you wished your death glare could burn through him and maybe even through Josie. How fucking dare he put all the blame on you? And for what exactly? You might add that you did nothing but be his friend, and he ghosted you like you meant nothing to him.

"So it's my fault?" You assumed he was placing the blame on you. "How is it my fault? Please enlighten me, Jungkook."

He quieted down, cowering his head.

"You showed up holding hands with Josie, then proceeded to not talk to me like a human being and instead wrote me a fucking letter like the coward you are. A letter, for fucks sake. You could've had the common decency to say it to my face."

You walked out of language class, and there they were, hand in hand as you idly watched from behind. And he didn’t even hand you the letter. He had stuffed it in your locker.

Your words took him aback. His recount of how everything went down was different from yours. "I'm sorry," he said. His eyes flicked to yours before looking away.

"Well, it's too fucking late for apologies."

Jungkook called out to you, and you didn't look back, storming away from him. You passed by Lana, telling her you were leaving and that you'd talk to her later.

You ran out the front door, stopping at the sidewalk's edge, remembering that Lana drove. "Fuck," you grumbled, pulling out your phone to grab an Uber.

You were stupid to think Jeon Jungkook wouldn't affect you after all these years. Maybe it's because you haven't dealt with feeling abandoned by him. Maybe you wished you did more for your friendship. Whatever the reason, you knew moving back wasn't a good idea because you’d have to deal with this.

"Hey!" Jungkook called out. You looked over your shoulder and continued walking. He ran in front of you to grab your attention. "Can you talk to me?" he asked, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Why don't you fucking write me a letter? Since you're so good at that," you mocked as you shuffled around him. He was a shitty writer who could barely pass Creative Writing without your help.

"That's not fair."

You scoffed, stopping in your tracks to turn back to him. "Run back to your little girlfriend. Don’t you have to get her approval first before talking to me?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

You tut. "Yeah–okay." That was hard to believe, considering she was all over him.

"She's not. We haven't been together for a while now," Jungkook explained.

"You looked pretty cozy earlier."

Jungkook looks at the ground, kicking around an invisible rock. "It's complicated."

"That's great, Jungkook, but I really don't want to hear about your relationship problems. Good luck with Josie and in life. You two deserve each other." You pulled out your phone to see if the Uber was arriving.

Crossing your arms, you walked back toward Jimin's place. You wish you pinned the pick-up location somewhere else, but you'd have to endure his presence longer.

Jungkook followed, giving you some space, stopping when you did. His eyes raked over you. His dimple appeared and disappeared as he licked his lips and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"When you got your acceptance letter to college, and you decided you were leaving, you didn't bother to ask about what I thought," he said, hands still in his pocket, staring at the ground. Your eyes flickered to him before looking away. He softly chuckled, "I thought to myself, what would I do without my best friend? I had nothing going for me, didn't even know what I wanted to do—still don't know what I want to do. And as much as you make me out to be the bad guy in your story, there are a lot of things you don't know."

You turned away from him as your eyes began to well up. You didn't want to cry before him, rehashing things from so long ago. You let out a shaky breath, trying to contain your emotions.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked, using the back of your hand to wipe away the snot threatening to fall.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I would never want to keep you from something that made you happy," he admitted.

You were always open with each other, so you're unsure why this one thing made it seem like he couldn't be honest with you.

"Tell me one thing."

Jungkook hummed.

"Why didn't you tell me about Josie?" It was the one question that lingered since you received his letter.

His lips thinned. "Honestly?" You nodded. "It all happened so quickly. Jimin was throwing a party that night when you told me about going off to college, and I was in my head, overthinking everything. And Josie was there, being sweet and comforting me, and I don't know what came over me. I just kissed her to make myself feel better. Then, the next day at school, she took my hand and told everyone we were together."

"So, let me get this straight? I told you I'm going off to college. You get upset, kiss Josie because you were mad about me leaving, and then end up in a relationship with her?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous."

You turned to him, hitting him across the chest several times. He held his hands up to block you. "Because Jeon Jungkook, it is ridiculous! God–you're such—a—" you groaned. "Do you know how much you hurt me? We could've avoided all this if you had just talked to me. Life could've been different for us. You could've come with me, and then we could've been together."

"Together?" He stared at you with his starry brown eyes.

"Yes, you dummy! I liked you, if you couldn't tell. I was going to tell you, but then you and Josie happened, and well, you know how the rest of the story goes."

You closed your eyes and let out a long-awaited breath. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, getting all this out in the open. You weren't expecting Jungkook to do anything to make you feel better, but at least he could hear what you wanted to say after all these years.

Your uber pulled up and you opened the door, holding onto it as you looked at Jungkook. A glimpse of the boy you once knew still lingered in his eyes. If you could go back and do it all over again, you would've fought harder for him, fought for what the two of you had. It was too precious of a friendship to let go just like that. Unfortunately, life didn't work that way.

There were no forms of time travel or alternate dimensions where the two of you could've lived happily ever after, and there were only the choices you made here and now.

"Bye, Jungkook."

✨ read part two | read part three ✨

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios

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yandere-daydreams · 11 months

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Title: Distorted.

Pairing: Yandere!Dottore x Reader (Genshin).

A Grab Bag Commission For A Very Lovely Anonymous Commissioner.

Summary: With the help of the Akasha system, Dottore strives to keep you happy and docile and, most importantly, unaware by his side.

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Unreality, Slight Gore/Blood, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Obsessive Behavior.

“Do you think Ajax is free?”

Dottore hummed thoughtfully, pressing his scalpel downward and severing a measured length of small intestine from the greater mass. With time to spare and the patient he was extracting his materials from long-dead, he took a minute aside to note the patches of scar tissue lining their internal tissue on a blood-spotted journal, to test for unusual viscosity or durability that’d have to be accounted for in his research. It was a minor study, something that would’ve been handed off to a younger branch of himself not yet ready to play a hand in more dire schemes, but due to the intervention of a certain archon, he was forced to carry out more of his own grunt work than he had in decades. Not that he minded getting his hands dirty, of course.

Especially when the same archon’s nation had given him such a lovely lab assistant to keep him company while he worked.

“Planning to replace me, little mouse?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten. It’s your own dinner party, for the Tsaritsa’s sake.” He heard you sigh in mock exasperation, then again – your frustration more genuine. You were sitting at his desk, working away at whatever little task you’d assigned yourself, the ring of blue light encircling your head pulsing brightly. It was his own handiwork – a version of the Akasha system he’d been able to maintain even after returning to Snezhnaya. He had no idea where you thought you were, what you thought he was doing, what you saw through those clouded eyes, but he knew you couldn’t be here, in his dark, cluttered lab - couldn’t see your beloved husband, the man who you’d crossed half of Teyvat to stay with, elbow-deep in a vat of disembodied organs and viscera. That was what interested him most about your experiment, really. It was one thing to wonder how you’d react if you ever found out the man you loved had such grisly pastimes. It was another, to watch what lengths your mind would go to just to substitute your reality with a more palatable fantasy. When it suited him, he could play a more involved hand in your fabrication, make himself into a hero or a villain or something else altogether, but most days, he was content to let you create your own daydreams. You were the most obedient when you could make him into exactly what you needed, that day.

“To celebrate your return to Snezhnaya,” You went on, as he piled the segmented pieces of a malformed liver onto his scale. “Pierro says that you haven’t been holding up your social obligations. I know it’s not customary, but I thought it’d be nice to invite another Harbinger – so you don’t have to suffer a room full of noblemen and merchants alone.”

So you were aware of his status as a Harbinger, today. More often than not, you treated him like a neighborhood doctor, or a traveling scholar as far from home as you’d found yourself. Sometimes, he was a low-ranking diplomat, or a medic you could welcome home from the battlefield, but you rarely acknowledged him as something so dangerous, something so far above yourself. It must’ve been the occasion. It would’ve been hard to deny who he was when you were sending out the invitations to a Harbinger’s event.

On that note, he abandoned his work, positioning himself on the opposing side of your desk. He was already smiling – it was difficult not to, when you were in his position – but his grin broadened further as he looked over your half-finished guest list, your attempts at calligraphy scribbled across what little scrap paper you could find. “I believe Tartaglia was sent back to his post in Liyue last week.”

You pursed your lips. “Pantalone comes with good company.”

“And he charges market-price for every precious second of his time. You wouldn’t want to bleed me dry, now, would you?” You tilted your head to the side, pretending to consider it, and he let out a breathy laugh, rounding the table and settling behind you, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “There must be an alternative.”

“Well,” You tilted your head back, your smile now matching his own. “It has been a while since I’ve heard Columbina sing–”

“Anyone but Columbina.”

“I write Pantalone a letter tonight, then.” You allowed yourself a moment to bask in your own self-satisfaction, leaning back in your seat and allowing your gaze to drift – first to your lap, then to your shoulders, where the blood and viscera coating your hands was beginning to soak into the fine ivory silk of your sleeves. There was a flash of repulsion, a sound not unlike a half-choked scream, and then you were shoving him away, your expression only growing more pained when he refused to move. He felt something tighten in his chest – not quite fear, but pure, zealous excitement. Had you, somehow, managed to break yourself out of your trance? Was there a flaw in the Akasha system he hadn’t accounted for? How much would you force yourself to forget, overwrite, warp and distort into something loving in the coming hours if you saw him for what he was, now?

“Zandik.” The sound of his name on your lips was to die for. He leaned down, pressing nipping at the corner of your jaw, and you groaned, brushing him away. “I’ve told you not to touch me while you’re painting. Look at me – it’s going to take ages to get this out of my clothes.”

Oh. Painting. How adorably quaint.

How adorably wrong.

With a sigh, he leaned down, pressing a fleeting kiss into the corner of your neck. You crossed your arms, sulking, but allowed him to. It wasn’t as if you’d be able to refuse. “Forgive me, darling.”

He straightened his back, watching red seep into white and begin to stain.

“I’m sure you’ll forget all about this in no time at all.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #yandere dottore #yanderecore #yancore

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slayfics · 7 months

Text

Spin the bottle in the U.A. dorms on Halloween night.

Warnings: NSFW themes

3,200 words~

You plopped down on the couch in the common room after finishing changing into your witch Halloween costume. Due to the League of Villains still having it out for your class, the whole school wasn't allowed to go out on Halloween.

As upset as most students were, your class still decided to dress up and celebrate in the dorms. Your class had decorated the common room with pumpkins and bats and the lights were lowered and flickering to make a spooky atmosphere.

"Alright finally got him to come down!" Eijiro exclaimed excitedly. You turned around to see him in a shark onesie standing next to Katsuki who was just wearing all black.

"Aww, you're a shark Kirishima! How cute it suits you... and Bakugo, what are you? A grumpy U.A. student?" You teased him.

"Shut the hell up! I'm going back to my dorm," he yelled.

"Oh no, you promised!" Eijiro said, blocking his friend from walking back to his dorm.

"Ugh fine," Katsuki grumbled and sat down on the couch next to you.

"Don't worry I actually have the perfect costume for you, you even dressed up perfectly in all black!" You exclaimed.

"The hell are you talking about? "Katsuki asked, irritated as you pulled out black cat ears from your bag and placed them on his head.

"There- I'm a witch and you're my black cat!" You smiled at him letting out a giggle at how cute the cat ears looked on him.

"IN YOUR FUCKING DREAMS!" He yelled trying to snatch the ears off his head but you and Eijiro pinned his arms down.

"He's an angry kitty isn't he?" Eijiro laughed.

"LET GO OF ME EXTRAS I'LL EXPLODE YOU BOTH TO HELL!" Katsuki yelled, struggling under your and Eijiro's grasp.

"Come on Bakugo, they are just ears and they look really cute on you!" You said struggling to keep him from removing them.

"Fucking fine, just let go of me," He said shrugging both you and Eijiro off. "But don't expect anything else from me today. This shit is so dumb."

"Hey you guys not getting started on any fun stuff without us are you?" Denki asked as he and Hanta made their way to sit on the adjoining couches.

Denki was wearing all yellow with some pointy yellow ears, and Hanta had a sheet over him with some eyes cut out.

"Aww, Kaminari are you supposed to be Pikachu?" You asked.

"Yeah! You guys always call me that so I thought why not," He shrugged.

"Oh you forgot something though," You said moving over to him.

"Hu what?" He asked, confused.

"The red cheeks!" You yelled and pinched his cheeks tightly.

"Hey stop!" He laughed trying to push you off.

"Ok there, now your costume is complete," You let go and sat back down on the couch laughing at Denki's now reddened cheeks, half red from your pinch and half red from a bright blush.

"You guys are so dumb," Katsuki mumbled, resting his head on his hand and leaning into the arm of the couch.

"Ugh I'm so bored this is so lameeee-" Mina said coming over to join your group wearing an alluring angel costume. "I wanna do something!" She said kicking her feet a bit.

"Oh uh-" Eijiro started to say but then stopped and looked away from Mina.

"Spit it out," You said, nudging him. Everyone's attention now turned to Eijiro making him more flustered.

"Nothing I- uh- was just gonna say that's a nice costume Ashido," he said and looked away again hoping the attention would turn away from him.

"Thanks!" Mina replied, smiling up at him. "Now what should we do? Tsuyu and Uraraka are carving pumpkins, but I want to do something more exciting!" She said, pumping both fists into the air.

"I know what you can do," a familiar pervy voice called from behind. The group turned around to see Minoru who was wearing a twister mat as a costume. "You girls should play twister and use me as your game board," Minoru said, lying down on the floor and spreading his arms out.

"He's never going to stop is he?" Hanta asked, letting out a sigh.

"Oh- that's actually a great idea Mineta!" You said walking over to him as he looked up at you from the floor. "Close your eyes though, ok? I don't want you to see up my dress," You said.

"Of course, my witch queen," Minoru responded, practically drooling. He shut his eyes tightly for a moment and you motioned for Katsuki to come over.

"Hu?" Minoru opened his eyes after not feeling you or Mina start the game. He opened his eyes to the sight of Katsuki above him lighting up an explosion in his hand. "Wait wait!" He called his arms failing in front of him as Katuski exploded him knocking him unconscious.

"Fucking perv," He grumbled and sat back on the couch.

"As much as I hate Mineta, a game isn't such a bad idea!" Mina said excitedly.

"What kind of game?" Eijiro asked.

"Hmmm..." Mina placed her finger on her chin as she thought. "I got it! Spin the bottle!" She yelled, throwing her hands in the air again. Everyone else including you just stared at her with a blank expression and slightly flushed faces.

"Fuck no." Katsuki spoke.

"Come on you guys! We can't go out and do anything else and that game is like a right of passage for teenagers! Let's do it! I'll find some other girls to even it out!" She said and ran off.

"Wait, she was serious?!" Denki asked, his face pale white.

You laughed, "You looked whiter than the sheet around Sero! Don't tell me after all that big pervy talk you've done with Mineta you're scared?" You teased him.

"I'm not scared! I just-" Denki began to say but was interrupted by an irritated Katsuki.

"I'm leaving, I'm not doing that dumb shit," Katsuki said, getting off the couch to leave. Eijiro quickly hurried after him. You turned around to see what looked like Eijiro pleading with his friend to stay.

"Maybe Kacchan's right, we could go play Super Smash Bros instead," Denki said to Hanta who seemed to be on board with leaving as well. Denki stood up just as Mina came back.

"Ok! I got Jiro and Hagakure to agree to play!" Mina said excitedly. Denki looked at Kyoka who was wearing a Bride of Frankenstein costume. His face flushed and he silently sat back down on the couch deciding to stay.

"Hey Hagakure, what is your costume?" Hanta asked, looking confused at Hagakure who was just carrying around a mirror and wearing a red cape.

"I'm a vampire and vampires don't have reflections in mirrors so... I thought that was funny with my quirk and all... since I'm invisible..."

"Oh! That's really smart." Hanta laughed.

Eijiro finally came back dragging Katsuki who was uttering curses under his breath.

"That's the spirit boys!" You said laughing.

Mina instructed the group to sit on the floor in a circle as she placed a bottle in the middle of you all.

"Ok there are a lot of different ways to play but this is what I think sounds most interesting. One person spins the bottle, and then whoever the bottle is pointing to gets to decide what happens. Any questions?" She asked.

"Yeah, what do you mean by deciding what happens?" Kyoka asked.

"Well that person can decide on either a kiss which can be wherever they choose or seven minutes in heaven," Mina explained further.

"Uh, what's seven minutes in heaven?" Toru asked nervously.

"It means I'll lock you both in the hall closet for seven minutes!" Mina said, laughing devilishly.

The group shifted uncomfortably at Mina's explanation of the game.

"Oh don't look so nervous you guys, it'll be fun! Sero start us out!" Mina said excitedly.

"What? Why me first?!" Hanta asked anxiously.

"Because I said so, that's why, now go!" Mina said harshly.

Sero shakily spun the bottle that was placed in the middle of the group. Everyone watched with eager eyes as it began to slow until it eventually stopped pointing at Toru. Once the bottle stopped everyone looked at Mina for guidance.

"Ok now Hagakure you decide what happens," Mina encouraged.

"You can kiss my cheek, Sero," Toru said sweetly.

"Uh right-" Hanta replied as he shakily moved over to Toru planting a kiss on what he assumed to be the invisible girl's cheek.

The group watched as Hanta's face lit up bright red.

"Oh!" Toru exclaimed. "That was not my cheek."

"I AM SO SORRY! I COULDN'T SEE!" Hanta apologized frantically.

"It's ok Sero," Toru giggled.

The rest of the group eyed each other curiously but were too shy to ask what exactly Hanta ended up kissing.

"Ok um- well.... it landed on you so that means your turn to spin Hagakure," Mina said, breaking up the awkwardness.

"Sure!" She said and the bottle began to spin seemingly out of nowhere as the invisible girl spun the bottle. The bottle spun until it landed on Mina.

"Oh um- is there a rule about that?" Toru asked.

"Hm- nah we're all-inclusive here," Mina shrugged. "You can kiss my cheek too if you're comfortable."

"Ok," Toru said as her cape, which appeared to be floating, moved toward Mina before returning to its original spot as she planted a kiss on her cheek.

"My turn then!" Mina said excitedly and spun the bottle. The bottle spun for a few moments before landing on Eijiro.

Eijiro's eyes widened at the bottle pointing directly at him. He was seemingly frozen staring at it.

"Um hello Earth to Kirishima," Mina said, waving her hand in front of his face. "You have to choose what you want."

"Me? I uh-" He stuttered as his face began to tint a slight pink. "What- what- do you want me to choose?" He asked.

"It doesn't work like that Kirishima, you have to choose," You said, reminding him of the rules.

"Oh man," He spoke seeming to shrink into himself with nervousness. Eijiro grabbed the shark hoodie of his onesie and covered his face with it.

Mina laughed, "Don't be so nervous Kirishima, just tell me what you want me to do." She encouraged him.

Eijiro mumbled from under his hoodie.

"Speak up shitty hair, we can't hear you," Katsuki yelled, annoyed at his friend's sheepishness.

"Ugh this is so unmanly," He mumbled again from under his hoodie.

"Come on man hurry up!" Denki said, nudging him.

"Just kiss me!" Eijiro said, voice loud and shaky under his hoodie.

"Ok, where though?" Mina asked, tilting her head and moving closer trying to get a look at him from under his hoodie. Eijiro squirmed more under his hoodie the closer Mina got.

"For fucks sake just tell her you want a real kiss dumb ass!" Katsuki grumbled beside his friend.

"Is that what you want?" Mina asked curiously.

Eijiro nodded his head from under his hoodie as a response.

"Then stop hiding silly," She said, pulling his hoodie back on his head as she moved closer and planted a gentle kiss on his lips, causing Eijiro's face to light up an even brighter red than his hair.

"Tch-" Katsuki let out an annoyed puff of air.

"Oh man, your face is so damn red!" Denki said laughing beside him.

"Aw come on man, leave me alone," Eijiro said, pulling his hoodie back over his face to hide from his friends.

"Don't hide yet, it's your turn!" Mina said giggling.

"Oh right-," Eijiro quickly stuck his hand out and spun the bottle.

You all watched as the bottle stopped spinning and landed on you.

"Uh-" Eijiro quickly stole a glance at Katsuki who looked away from the group feigning disinterest.

"Here," You laughed, holding out your hand.

"Oh uh- so formal," Eijiro laughed, feeling less nervous as he placed a kiss on the top of your hand.

"Alright, then my turn right?" You asked looking at Mina for confirmation.

"Yup!" She said, nodding enthusiastically. You spun the bottle and waited for it to stop spinning. The whole group's breath seemed to catch in their throat when it landed on Katsuki. Everyone stared at him with wide eyes waiting for his response.

"Tch- whatever let's go," Katsuki said, standing up and motioning for you to follow him.

"What?" You asked confused.

"Wait, you're choosing the closet?!" Mina asked, stunned.

"Yeah, let's just get this over with," He said, annoyed.

"Wooo! Our first seven minutes in heaven players!" Mina said excitedly, pumping her fists in the air. She quickly made her way to the hall closet, opened it, and motioned for you both to come.

"Hurry up now! I'll start a timer on my phone and we will all wait here for you both," She said, winking and shoving you both inside.

"Wait what you all just wait out there?" You asked nervously.

"Well yeah, we can't keep playing with you two missing. Have fun now," She said as she slammed the closet door shut.

The closet was pitch black with the door shut, and smaller than you anticipated, causing you to be just inches away from Katsuki.

Katsuki lit up the room with his quirk using his hand to create some light without an explosion.

"So you wanted to spend some alone time with me, hu?" You asked, teasing him.

"Shut the hell up, I just didn't want to do anything else in front of those other extras. This shit is so dumb and I don't want the attention," he replied back sounding frustrated as ever.

"Then why did you choose to play?" You asked curiously.

"For Kirishima obviously. He wanted to play and was too damn scared to do it without me here," Katsuki said as if it was the most obvious explanation in the world.

"You really expect me to believe that? You never do anything you don't want to do. Especially for the sake of someone else. So tell me, what did you want to happen? Who were you hoping to get stuck with?" You pestered him more.

"Fucking no one. You think I actually care about any of these damn extras," Katsuki laughed off your question.

You ignored his response and looked at his hand curiously as it illuminated light without an explosion. "I didn't know you could do this with your quirk. Is it warm?" You asked, touching his hand.

"I can do a lot of shit with my quirk dumb ass," He responded as he watched you graze his hand with your finger.

You looked up and noticed a slight tint on his cheeks. "No way are you blushing?" You laughed.

"The hell? I am not!" He yelled defensively but extinguished the light from his hand right away bringing you both back into darkness so you couldn't look at him anymore. "I'm not some fucking loser you know. I wouldn't blush from you just touching my hand."

You leaned a bit closer to him, almost brushing up against him as you did, "What would I need to touch to make you blush then?" You whispered.

Katsuki tried to back away from you but hit the wall of the closet instead, "Cut that fucking crap out," He said through gritted teeth and smacked your hand away from him. "Why the hell did you play this game? What did you want to happen?" He asked.

"This," you answered simply and honestly.

"Hu?" Katsuki exclaimed, sounding surprised.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" You asked.

"You don't have to fucking lie just because we're stuck in here you know. I saw you flirting with spark plug out there. Pinching his cheeks and shit," Katuski answered, still not believing you.

"Kaminari? No," You laughed. "I only mess with him because he gets riled up so easily, plus... I like how it pisses you off. Do you think I didn't notice how you grit your teeth and furrow your brows even more than usual when I do," You teased.

"Tch, whatever. If I'm really what you wanted- then get over here. Prove it. Do what you say you've been wanting to do," Katsuki said, challenging you.

You moved almost instantly, pressing yourself into Katsuki and colliding your lips with his. Your hands went up to wrap around the back of his neck and as they did. Katsuki's body went rigid for a moment, stunned that you actually attacked him so suddenly. Then as if coming back to life after processing the situation, he pushed you back against the wall roughly pinning you between his arms. Causing a loud thump to echo through the closet.

"You didn't think I'd really just let you have control that easily did you?" He whispered in a lowered voice, his words rumbling in his chest.

Everyone outside turned and looked at the closet following the loud thump.

"Should we be concerned?" Kyoka asked, looking around the group for consensus.

"Nah," Denki, Eijiro, and Hanta all said in unison. The girls eyed them curiously.

"It's just uh- Bakugo wouldn't hurt her or anything. Trust me," Eijiro said, his face tinting red a bit again as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Hm ok- well they do only have 3 minutes left so... I suppose it's fine," Mina said, eyeing her phone.

Back in the closet, Katsuki had pressed his lips to yours forcefully as you were pinned between him and the wall. You pulled him even closer to you.

"You like when I press into you like this?" He asked in your ear breath running down your neck.

You nodded, and Katsuki responded by grabbing your leg and wrapping it around his waist in order to press into you deeper while keeping his hand around your thigh for support. In this position, you could feel his growing bulge pressing into you.

"You know you're right," He spoke again into your ear. "It does fucking piss me off when you flirt with dunce face. Don't even fucking look at him anymore," he said and ran his other hand through your hair grazing your scalp as he tugged on your hair. "Keep your eyes on me, you understand?"

You nodded again but this time grabbed his face and pressed a deep kiss into his lips spreading them apart with your tongue.

"Fuck," he moaned into your mouth.

Katsuki's hand moved down from your hair to your chest grabbing a handful of you.

"The hell is with this skimpy ass witch costume, it's sluttier than your damn hero costume," He groaned and moved down to trail kisses on your neck while continuing to press his now full-grown bulge into you.

"What? You don't like it?" You asked teasingly.

"Mm- fuckin' love it," He growled while kissing further down your neck making his way to your chest ensuring to taste all of your exposed skin.

"Alright times up," Mina yelled, throwing the closet door open without warning.

"Oh shit!" You exclaimed, placing your hands on Katsuki's shoulders to push him off but he didn't budge.

"Holy shit-" Denki exclaimed before being at a total loss of words.

Everyone stared with wide eyes frozen at the sight.

Mina slammed the door back shut.

"Uh- maybe we leave them with their privacy," She said, her face flushed. "Let's just- um go back to the game," she stuttered.

"Yeah good idea," Eijiro nodded, as everyone awkwardly made their way back to sitting in a circle.

Thank you for reading everyone!

Tags: @unofficialmuilover

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greensagephase · 10 months

Text

Nonviolent Communication - Part Five

Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader

Summary: You join Miguel for the first time on a mission.

Word Count: 8,185

Warning: None. Unless you count Miguel's subtle changes. This is on the lighter side again... for now.

Music inspo while writing:

"Another Dimension" - Pop Money (for the last portion of this part🤭)

"Nonviolent Communication" - Metro Boomin, James Blake, A$AP Rocky, 21 Savage

Part Five

Another birthday came and went for Peter. The first two years were especially hard as his death was still very fresh. As you walk towards the conference room for a meeting, you think about how you felt better about this year’s. You felt more in control of your emotions and even though you cried, it wasn’t as bad as the first two years had been.

You remember the first year was particularly hard, being the first one. It had only been a few months since Peter’s death, and everything felt dull. Your world looked gray. The hours went by without you even realizing it. It felt like you had stopped moving while the rest of the world moved on. You had spent the entire day crying in bed until you decided to bake a cake, crying the entire time. You cried yourself to sleep. You didn’t know how many tears were possible to cry in a day until then.

You also spent the entire day alone at the apartment. There were no people arriving for a dinner celebration the way you usually planned. There were no balloons. There was no lively music playing in the background or Peter’s comments about how you shouldn’t have bothered to cook such an elaborate dinner but adding that he loved and appreciated you for doing so, hugging you from behind as you cooked before he offered to help. There was no trace of his laughter as he talked with friends. There was nothing and no one.

That’s how your life was since Peter’s death. You moved day by day, only talking to acquaintances or colleagues when you still had a normal job, but you eventually left that, too, as you had and continue to have, the privilege to take some time off. You focused on taking care of your city, protecting it from villains that showed up every week. You fought against petty and organized crimes. It was the same thing. Over and over again. Life moved around you.

But your life changed when you joined the Spider Society, which you can’t help but think now how you almost didn’t join. If it wasn’t for Jess Drew, you would’ve probably still been the same. You sigh softly as the truth stings. No matter how much you hope, you feel that your life would’ve remained the same had it not been for the Spider Society. Had Jess not persisted, had she not mentioned Peter and what he would’ve thought about it… You would still be very lonely. As you walk towards the conference room, closer now, you think about your friends who you love and trust. Your days and nights no longer bleed into each other. You no longer feel paralyzed in place as the world moves.

Your life has changed in the short amount of time that you’ve been a member of the society. So much, that you had someone show up to Peter’s birthday celebration this year. Miguel. It makes you feel happy. You feel silly as you think about this but the fact that someone was a part of the celebration this year gives you a good feeling that you’re moving in the right direction. You know you still have some work to do but you’re moving, again. Plus, a few weeks ago you concluded that you were open to the idea of a relationship again. Yes. You were indeed starting to pick up the pieces of your life.

You didn’t expect Miguel’s presence to do so much for you, but it did. Not only does it make you feel like you’re taking a step forward, but it also makes you feel happy that you opened up to someone. You haven’t done that since Peter.

You also feel happy for Miguel. You know what he has been through and how it has led to his current life, but you feel as though he has opened up to you. A little bit. He has shared some things with you, the way you have shared some things with him. It might not be much, and it might not mean anything but you’re glad he’s done that with someone. You don’t expect the man to change overnight. You don’t expect anything from him to be honest. He doesn’t owe you or anyone anything, but you just hope that one day, he’s able to regain a small part of his old self, for his own happiness.

It's been three weeks now since Peter’s birthday. The following day you arrived at HQ, feeling good. You remember how you ran into Miguel at the cafeteria. He returned your container and thanked you once again. Just as the previous night, you felt that his “thank you” was meant for more than the cake but you didn’t know what else he could be thanking you for. Was it for letting him in during such a personal moment? You didn’t know. You also noticed that he looked rested that day, which made you wonder but of course, you didn’t question anything.

And so, you didn’t know that the founder and commander of the Spider Society had slept at his own place for the first time in weeks the previous night. Or that he hadn’t had nightmares for the first time in years. Or that, that morning when he woke up and got in the shower, he thought about making it a goal to try and sleep once a week at his penthouse.

As the days go on after Peter’s birthday, you do your duties at HQ. You patrol your city. You go on missions and catch anomalies. You meet up with your friends. You attend the Friday dinners at Peter’s universe with Mary Jane and Mayday. You organize the lab. It all seems the same, but things feel different, and you can’t explain it but it’s there, in the air. A shift, and it’s good.

You enter the conference room at last. You arrive earlier than anyone with two cups of coffee, as usual. Miguel sits at the head of the table already. His brows are furrowed as he looks down at a tablet, so thin it’s like a hologram. You walk over to him and place the cup on the table.

“Good morning,” you say, hoping you don’t startle him as he looks fully concentrated on his screen.

He looks up, his brows unfurrowing. “Y/N. Good morning,” Miguel says meeting your eyes before he looks down at the coffee cup. “Thank you.”

That’s the new thing. Ever since Peter’s birthday, Miguel says more when you give him his coffee during these meetings. You nod at him. “You’re welcome,” you say before you walk off to your usual seat, with a small smile on your face. Of course, you hide it once your face is in his view.

The reports are already passed out, as always, so you pick up the one in front of you and begin to go through it. You’re always in awe at how put together the reports are. It’s not like you expect them to be bad but Miguel and Lyla always go far and beyond to make sure the reports are perfect. You skim through it as Miguel will cover everything anyway.

The report is always split into three parts. The first part focuses on any anomalies that were dealt with last week, including everything that was discovered about it like powers, personality, how it had ended in another universe, and then basic information like its appearance. The details are always specific and concise as an effort to help all Spider Society members learn more about the anomalies.

Miguel often talked about how important it was to learn about them, as it could equip members with precious information that could aid in catching an anomaly faster in case they left their universe again. You quickly scan this part, always finding it interesting to read as there’s so many variants of one single person throughout the multiverse, but always differing in small ways.

The next part of the report includes tasks that people are assigned to do. The Spider Society is pretty much run by Miguel and Lyla, but some departments do require the aid of other members. For example, you can see Margo’s name listed with the task of running maintenance on the Go Home Machine. It’s little things like these that help the society run smoothly. You turn to the final part of the report, which is where members find out if they have any assigned missions for the week. These don’t mean missions with anomalies, of course. Missions dealing with anomalies are unexpected, so whoever is available usually gets those assigned on the spot.

The assigned missions are a part of the learning and surveillance plan Miguel has implemented, though. The society has increased in size over the last months, you being one of the newest recruits, though a few more have joined after you. Since it has grown in size, Miguel wants to make sure that all members are well acquainted with at least a few universes. These missions help with that in addition to helping with the surveillance part by tracking any anomaly matter, or as some members called it “anomaly dust,” with Miguel’s advanced technology, allowing members to know if any anomalies have randomly popped up in universes, even if it’s for a few seconds. Your eyes move down the list, trying to see if you have any assigned missions this week.

“Mierda,” Miguel mutters, taking your focus off the report. You look up at Miguel, his brows are furrowed once again as he looks down at his screen, his fingers sliding over it. It seems that he feels your gaze because he looks up. “Sorry,” he says, relaxing his face for a moment before he looks down again.

“Everything okay?” you ask as you put down the report, you’ll eventually find out if you have any assigned missions anyway. You grab your cup of coffee and take a sip, relishing the taste of it as you didn’t have the chance to have any earlier. This morning you were rudely awakened by your personal crime radio, notifying you there was a jewelry store robbery taking place. It sounded pretty serious, as it was one of the largest jewelry stores in your city, so you rushed out of your apartment only to come across the most stupid thieves you have ever encountered. The thought alone brings a slight ache to your right temple. Some of the petty criminals you came across sometimes were just plain stupid with their plans. Today’s thieves were the perfect example of that but at least it had been an easy situation to handle. Either way, you weren’t able to have coffee, or breakfast for that matter.

Miguel sighs, putting his tablet down. “I’m working on a new suit, but I can’t get the back right.”

You nod, wondering why he wanted to change it again as you have seen his previous suit in his lab before. His current suit, which is black, red, and white, is a new one. Or at least you had heard it was new as you had been intrigued by the fact that Miguel’s suit is holographic when you were first recruited. You remember being so in awe with everything about Nueva York. Your dimension was on the advance side when compared to other universes, but it was still nothing compared to Nueva York’s technology.

“Oh, that’s exciting,” you say as you put your cup down. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” You think about your own suit. It’s been ages since you designed a new one and you haven’t even thought of changing your current one because Peter helped you design it. You briefly look down at it, remembering how you had spent the evening sitting on the couch while music played. The two of you had notebooks and had talked about random things as you drew. In the end, you incorporated so many of his ideas, loving them more than your own. You blink and sigh softly, picking up the coffee cup again and staring at the wall, trying to ease your mind of any memories before a meeting.

Your actions don’t go unnoticed by Miguel. He watches as you look down at your suit, sighing softly. He wonders what changed your mood and his mind immediately goes to Peter. He suddenly wonders if your suit has something to do with him, and Miguel almost feels certain it does when he sees a faraway look on your face as you stare at the wall. Before he even realizes it, his mouth opens, and he begins to talk.

“It’s still a work in progress but you can come look at it, if you want,” he offers, making you turn to face him. There’s a bit of surprise in your eyes but you nod slowly.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you say, pushing away your surprise and standing up but not before grabbing your coffee cup.

You walk over to him, planning on just standing nearby as he shows you, but it seems that he has other plans because before you fully reach him, he slides the nearest chair to him on your side away from the table with his leg, opening the seat to you as he looks down at his screen. You pause for just a second before you continue walking.

Miguel keeps his eyes on the tablet as you approach the chair, noticing your slight pause. He doesn’t know why he pushed the chair out for you to take a seat next to him, and he doesn’t allow himself to question his actions.

You take a seat, placing your cup on the table again. Miguel then angles the tablet so that the two of you can see the screen before he starts changing slides.

You watch as he swipes past slides, making you assume he’s sliding to the beginning of his project and as he does this, you immediately feel his body heat. You have felt it before of course, in passing but sitting so close to him now, so close that your arms could touch, you feel his warmth envelop you slowly. As it envelops you like a blanket, you have the sudden thought that you don’t mind it at all. Your unexpected thought makes you freeze for a second and thankfully Miguel is still swiping through slides, too busy to notice your embarrassment of having such a thought. You blink as an effort to focus and stare at his tablet again, your eyes landing on his hand, always covered by his suit, as he swipes.

Except that one time, you suddenly remember, as you feel his body heat radiating into you. Your eyes flick to the slides for a second, briefly making you wonder how many slides he has, as you remember the day he visited your apartment to check on you. Yes, you remember it now. You had been so in and out of it, but you had felt his bare, large, and warm hand on your forehead.

“No fever,” Miguel had said.

You pick up your cup of coffee and take a sip to help you focus as you’re still thinking about the fact that Miguel O’Hara had indeed pressed his bare hand to your forehead that day. Miguel, the same man that cannot handle physical touch. You place the cup back on the table, still feeling Miguel’s body warmth wrapping around you like a blanket and will yourself to focus on what Miguel is about to show you. Miguel finally stops swiping. He clears his throat and turns to you at last.

“I didn’t realize I have that many slides,” he says as he angles the tablet better for you. “This is the overall vision,” he continues as he looks back at the tablet. Your eyes fall on the image, though it’s more of a simulation. You nod. It seems that Miguel is trying to go back to the blue and red colors. You look at his current suit, noticing slight changes to the design.

“The back of it is – shit,” Miguel states, sounding annoyed as he swipes through some slides. “But everything else is good. Or at least to my liking so far.”

You watch the simulation as it shows close up details of the arms, then hands, and every other part, feeling in awe that he can design his suit like this. Your mind goes back to the evening you designed yours with Peter on some old notebooks you had lying around that you refused to use because the covers were too pretty, and you didn’t want to “ruin” them. Now they were packed away in a memory box. You push your thoughts away, wanting to give Miguel your full attention. It’s not like the man shows his work to others often, or at least you’re pretty certain he doesn’t.

“It looks great to me. What’s wrong with the back, though?” you ask curiously.

Miguel sighs and then swipes through some more slides, some of which just have detailed notes regarding the suit. “It’s… I just don’t like it,” he admits, as he finally reaches a slide showing the back of it. You lean a bit closer, inspecting it. It doesn’t look bad at all, it’s just more on the plain side when compared to his previous suit and even the current one.

“I think it looks good. Maybe you’re just thrown off by…” you start, and he turns to you.

“Yeah?” Miguel asks, giving you his full attention, with a slightly raised eyebrow.

You meet his eyes before you turn to the screen.

“Well, your current suit has these lines running through the shoulder parts and I’ve seen your older one. It also had some details on it. Maybe you’re just used to that?” you suggest, meeting his eyes again. Miguel nods before turning back to the tablet. His fingers move quickly on the screen, but you can’t see what he’s doing until he angles the tablet to let you see the new version. He added some symbols similar to those from the old suit. You nod with a smile. It does give it a different perspective.

“I like this better,” Miguel mutters as he stares at the screen. “I think you were right. I’m so used to having some kind of detail.” Miguel stares at the tablet for a few more seconds, nodding and feeling like it was finally making sense. “I’m going to work more on it now that I have this idea. Thank you,” he says turning to you, his tone laced with appreciation.

“I’m glad I was able to help even a little,” you reply, with a small smile.

Miguel hums at your response before he picks up his cup of coffee and takes a sip just as other members start showing up. You look up as the sudden sound of conversation fills your ears and see fellow spider members begin to sit. You’re about to get up and return to your usual seat when you see someone else take it. You frown a little, but your attention is brought back to Miguel when you hear his voice.

“Looks like someone stole your seat,” he mutters quietly, as if his comment was just meant for your ears.

You nod. “I guess I’m sitting here today,” you say, picking up your coffee cup.

You watch Miguel finish his, and you notice his neck muscles move as he does so. You watch, kind of surprised at how he finished it in basically two gulps. You look down at your own, still half filled.

“Your new seat, I guess,” Miguel says, placing his empty coffee cup on the table, giving you a look you can’t quite decipher and don’t have enough time to as he gives you a small nod before standing up, his sign that he’s about to start the meeting.

You sigh softly and pick up the report, ready for the meeting. The sound of conversation is still going strong but eventually ceases as Miguel initiates the meeting. He begins to cover the report, asking everyone to turn their attention to the first portion on anomalies. Everyone’s attention is on him as he covers the report, listening intently to the information discussed. You look up at him as he talks but because he’s literally in front of you, just a few feet away, you must crane your neck. You nod as he talks, looking down at the report to read the specific data he references when necessary.

Miguel covers the rest of the report, finally reaching the assigned missions. Your eyes scan that portion as he reads names and the universe assigned. You’re still scanning when you hear your name at last.

“Y/N, Jess, Ben, and myself. Earth-42. In one hour,” Miguel says, surprising you.

You look at the report, searching for your name and finally find it. Surely enough, your name is listed with them. You try to hide your surprise at this. You have never been on assigned missions with Miguel. You have been on plenty with Jess as she was the one that recruited you and she was your mentor in a way. You have been on fewer missions with Ben Reilly but even then, you have worked with him. Just not Miguel. You hear Miguel continue to read names and naming the universes assigned to your colleagues as you stare at your name listed in the same line as Miguel’s. You look up at your colleagues, trying to not give this importance but it is kind of a big deal as you know Miguel only goes on missions with those that have been a part of the society the longest. As far as you know, he doesn’t take new recruits into his missions. You look back down at the report, thinking Jess must be putting in a good word. Or, you think suddenly, he’s going to evaluate your work today.

“That concludes the meeting for today. If you have any questions, please ask,” Miguel says, making you look around the room as your colleagues nod, heading out with their reports in hand.

You turn to Miguel, who is suddenly approached by a colleague, asking him something about an anomaly. You get up, grabbing your report and both coffee cups. Yours to finish and his to dispose of. You head to the trash can, seeing Jess as she’s about to leave the room. You throw away Miguel’s empty cup discreetly.

“Y/N, you’re joining us today,” she says, as you follow her out of the conference room.

You fall into step with her as you both head to the cafeteria.

“It seems so,” you reply simply, still somewhat shocked by this fact.

“Well, it’s about time. I’ve been telling Miguel you’re a reliant team member,” Jess says with a small smile, making you smile, too. So, maybe it wasn’t an evaluation but really Jess’s good word, you think.

“Thank you. I’m glad I’m meeting your standards,” you say as you enter the cafeteria, which is buzzing with energy already despite how early it still is.

“You’re more than meeting my standards. Believe me, some of the pupils I’ve had and still have… I’m not even going to get into it,” Jess says waving her hand as if she’s physically waving away the thoughts of her other pupils. You try not to smile as you remember Gwen, who is one of her mentees, once sharing that she pushed Jess’s buttons too much in the past.

“Glad to hear that. I don’t want to disappoint the person that recruited me,” you say, looking around, trying to find your friends but you can’t see any of them.

“I doubt you will,” Jess replies, giving you a look that you fail to see as you’re looking around but it’s one of respect and appreciation. “Well, I’m going to head to my universe. I want to check up on my kid,” she says, making you turn to face her.

“Alright, I’ll see you again in a bit then,” you answer. “Say hi to Gerry and your husband for me.”

“Will do,” Jess says with a nod, giving you a smile and a wave before she heads out.

You turn your attention back to the cafeteria, there’s no sign of your friends. You check your gizmo, realizing there’s some messages from them. Apparently they are busy in their own universe. You finish drinking your coffee and throw away your garbage. You decide to head back to your universe to make sure everything is alright since you have a mission in less than an hour now and those usually take some time as members scan multiple parts of the city to ensure there’s no anomaly matter present, meaning it will be a while before you return to your universe.

You head back to your universe, not expecting any trouble but you end up stopping another robbery attempt that was easy to control, if you don’t count fighting the thief, of course. Once dealt with, you swing through your city, scanning the streets below. You look at your gizmo, noticing that you have about twelve minutes left. You land on a rooftop and open a multidimensional portal, heading back to HQ.

You quickly head to the meeting area, finding Miguel and Ben already there, talking. Or rather, Ben is talking to Miguel, who just stands there listening. He is the only one that notices you as Ben’s back is to you and he’s eagerly talking. You approach them slowly, keeping some distance to give them privacy and giving Miguel a nod of acknowledgement. You look down at your gizmo again before you take off your mask to fix your hair as you feel it’s a bit messed up from the robbery attempt after fighting the thief. Ben continues to talk to Miguel, only stopping when he notices the boss’s eyes are on something else. Or rather, someone else.

“Y/N – you fought someone just now or something?” Ben suddenly asks, startling you.

You turn and nod. “Second robbery attempt of the day.”

“Sick. When was the first one?” Ben asks, turning around to face you, too. Both men watch as you finish fixing your hair.

“Earlier this morning. Before the meeting,” you reply, holding your mask in your hand, standing there now.

Ben nods, looking impressed. “Two robberies in one day and it’s not even midday. Busy day for you.”

You chuckle and nod. “You could say that. Hopefully there are no more for today,” you say with a sigh and Ben nods, while Miguel just stands there, watching you.

“Hey everyone, sorry for just showing up. Gerry has been in a mood today,” Jess says suddenly, appearing out of nowhere. “Are we ready?”

“We are,” Miguel responds after he clears his throat.

You put your mask back on as you see Miguel click on his gizmo to open a portal to get to Earth-42. The light from the portal immediately shines on all of you. You turn to Jess who seems ready to go.

“Alright, we are scanning the city to make sure there’s no anomaly matter,” Miguel informs you, suddenly showing the three of you the small device that operates like a spider to scan an area. Ben, Jess, and you step closer as Miguel extends his arm out. He hands each of you one, leaving one for himself before he steps into the portal. Ben follows as he puts on his mask. Jess and you enter together and are quickly transported to Earth-42. The two of you step out onto a rooftop, finding Miguel and Ben already looking out into the city.

Jess and you walk closer, looking around. Earth-42 has changed a lot from what you learned from Miles. As your eyes scan the city, you recall bits and pieces of the story. Miles managed to leave Nueva York and thought he was going back home to his own universe to save his dad, only to find himself on this Earth because of the shenanigan with Johnathan Ohnn and the misplaced radioactive spider, leading the Go Home Machine to send Miles to the incorrect universe because of his dimensional signature. He ended up meeting the version of himself that was supposed to be bit, who instead of becoming Spider-Man like he was “supposed” to, became a vigilante as an attempt to stop the Sinister Six, who kept the city under their control and corruption.

But as you look around now, you can see the change in the city compared to how Miles had described it. The city is no longer under the control of the Sinister Six as Miles helped his variant and uncle get rid of them. The city looks peaceful now and as you step closer to the edge of the rooftop to look down at the streets, you see the people walking peacefully. Long gone are the days under a curfew. You wonder briefly what this Earth’s Miles is doing now as the last thing you had heard was that he was still a vigilante, protecting the citizens from petty crimes with the help of his uncle. Even though you have never met him, and probably never will, you hope that this Earth’s Miles and his family are doing alright after what they went through.

You turn back to the group as they are still scanning the city, probably also admiring the fact that the city is different compared to what they saw since they have been to this Earth before, unlike you. Everyone turns around to face each other. You notice Jess looks over at you, looking like she’s about to speak.

“Jess, Ben. You two will take the North side of the city to scan. Y/N and I will take the other side,” Miguel says before his mask covers his face. “We’ll meet back here. If anything happens, call for backup.”

The three of you nod at Miguel’s instructions, preparing yourselves. Ben, Miguel, and you fail to see the look on Jess’s face at the assigned teams. She usually works with you when the group needs to split up and she also knows Miguel usually heads on his own on missions like these, but she says nothing, chalking it up to Miguel wanting to see you in action during a mission since she has talked highly of you after all. She says nothing about it as she and Ben swing off the rooftop saying goodbye.

You turn to face Miguel, who stands a few feet away from you. You look down at the device he gave you earlier to scan the city before looking up again.

“Ready?” you ask, as you put the device into a secret pocket in your suit.

Miguel nods and walks to the edge of the rooftop. You follow him and sensing you’re near him now, he jumps off, swinging into the air. You follow quickly, looking down at the city as the two of you swing to the starting scanning location. Neither of you say anything, allowing you to hear the sounds of traffic and music playing from different establishments from below perfectly. It doesn’t take long to reach the location as the two of you swing fast through the city and soon enough you are on another rooftop but this time on the Southside.

You turn to Miguel who turns to you at the same time. “You take East. I’ll take the West. We meet back here, okay?” he says, looking down at you, unable to see his face.

You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you in a bit,” you say before you swing off, leaving Miguel alone on the rooftop, watching as you swing effortlessly from building to building before you disappear from his sight.

You swing from building to building until you reach the end of the city on your assigned side. You get to work quickly, pulling out the device to scan the first section of many. You do this countless times, as you move closer and closer to the meeting location for Miguel and you. You keep a close eye on the device, making sure there’s no anomaly matter present, but you also look around the city as this is your first time visiting. It’s about an hour later that you reach what appears to be the last section to scan as you spot the building Miguel and you separated from. As the device scans the area, you notice Miguel on another building, standing there as his own device scans, also about to be done with his side. You turn back to the device, keeping a close eye and reading the data.

Miguel turns around, finding you on another building’s rooftop. He sees you looking at the device closely, presumably reading the data. He remembers Jess’s comments about your meticulous work on these missions, always ensuring something isn’t overlooked while trying to learn as much as possible.

“She’s the perfect pupil, Miguel,” Jess had said only one month after recruiting you.

Miguel remembers nodding at her, finding it odd that a new member was already receiving compliments from his second in command, who didn’t pass out compliments too often to her mentees. “She sounds promising,” Miguel had simply said as he worked on his screens.

Miguel turns away now, checking his own device. No anomaly matter detected. He picks up the device, putting it away before he flies to the building the two of you are supposed to meet at. He lands just as you grab your own device, putting it away into your secret pocket before swinging to the other rooftop. You walk over to him.

“All done,” you report, standing in front of him.

Miguel’s mask disappears and he looks down at you with his face visible now. “Anything?”

You shake your head. “It was all clear.”

Miguel nods. “Same on my end. Jess and Ben haven’t said anything, so it’s safe to assume nothing popped up on their end either.”

You nod, still standing there. “That’s good,” you softly reply before your eyes scan the city again.

Miguel watches you, remembering this is your first time visiting this universe. “First time on Earth-42,” he says, making you face him. You nod. “You know what I always say. It’s important to learn about the universes.”

You nod, knowing that it’s part of his surveillance and learning plan. Miguel looks down at his gizmo, checking for any messages. You do the same but there’s nothing from Jess or Ben. Miguel looks at you. “It seems we have some time. Let’s swing around so you can see more of the city. If you want, of course.”

“Yeah, I’m up for it,” you say, sounding excited, which Miguel notices. He motions for you to follow him as his mask covers his face again.

The two of you jump off the rooftop, swinging between skyscrapers above the busy city. Your eyes explore everything as you follow Miguel, who’s slightly ahead of you. You notice he looks back a few times, as if making sure he’s not going too fast for you. Birds fly past the two of you as you scare them with your movement. You see your reflections on the skyscrapers’ windows as you swing by, so fast that the people inside of them don’t even notice your figures. The sun shines from above as the two of you make a right turn. Miguel slows down a bit, swinging almost side by side with you now as you look down at the city.

The two of you continue to swing past buildings until you spot a figure some hundred feet away from above, a man following a woman. You turn to Miguel, who also turns to you.

“He’s going to try and steal her purse,” Miguel says, thinking the same thing as you.

“Mind if I take care of it?” you ask, looking at the man.

“Go ahead,” Miguel says, and you don’t need to be told twice.

You swing past Miguel, heading straight for the man just as he makes a lunge for the woman’s purse. He begins to run with it, and the woman tries to go after him, yelling for help. Miguel, still in mid-air, watches as you shoot your webs and easily trap the man from the ankles, making him collapse on the floor. You land on the ground with a soft thud next to the thief, taking away the purse from him. You return the purse to the woman, and she thanks you before you secure the man to a wall with your webs. You tell her to call the police on the thief before you launch off the ground. You meet Miguel again in mid-air. He doesn’t say anything as the two of you continue to swing but he’s thinking about what just happened.

You swing some more, with no clear direction as this is meant for you to explore the city and become acquainted with it but soon after you see Miguel is heading for the tallest building. You reach it in a minute and the two of you climb it, reaching its rooftop in no time. You stare out at the city, admiring the view. You take off your mask, wanting to feel the fresh air on your bare skin. As you take a seat on the edge of the rooftop, you notice Miguel walks closer to the edge, too. He, however, doesn’t take a seat but his mask disappears, too, as he looks out at the city just a few feet from you. Unlike earlier when you were able to hear the traffic and other sounds perfectly, you can hardly hear anything from your current location as the building is incredibly tall. The only sounds you hear are some birds here and there, apparently the height being too much even for birds.

You swing your legs gently as your eyes continue to scan the city. The rooftops of other tall buildings peek out here and there. The sun shines on the skyscrapers’ windows, casting reflections of other buildings. In other parts, the sun hits the buildings just right, creating shiny spots that give the city a glimmering effect. You wonder what this universe looks like at night as each universe varies in color. You imagine it probably looks pretty. Even more now that the city is clean from organized crime. Below, you can see traffic moving thousands of feet below. Tiny figures move on the sidewalks as they head in different directions. You look at your gizmo, it’s almost midday now so people are probably heading out for lunch, hence the traffic and high numbers of people on the sidewalks.

“Third robbery,” Miguel says next to you, breaking the silence.

Your thoughts are interrupted by his statement. You turn, processing what he said and then you finally nod. “Oh, yeah. I guess I jinxed it when I said I hoped that was it for today,” you say with a low chuckle.

Miguel continues to stare out at the city. “It happens,” he says, not looking at you.

You look at his face, so serious. It looks like he’s thinking about something, but he doesn’t reveal anything. You turn away, looking at the buildings again. You stay like that for a few minutes in silence until a voice breaks it.

“Miguel? Jess and Ben are done. They’re waiting for Y/N and you at the designated location. Are you guys, okay? Where are you?” Lyla asks, suddenly popping up from Miguel’s gizmo and looking around.

“Tell them we’ll meet them in a few minutes. We’re fine, don’t worry,” Miguel says swiping Lyla away, not answering her question about your current location. Miguel stares at his gizmo, remembering that the two of you are supposed to meet up with the rest of the group. He almost forgot he had asked the others to meet up in the same location. You turn to him as you get up, sliding your mask back on.

Miguel’s own mask covers his face again, feeling appalled that he had forgotten about meeting the others, but he pushes his thoughts away and looks at the city one more time. He has the brief thought that this building has a nice view. He clears his throat, finally turning to you.

“Alright, let’s head back,” Miguel says and motions for you to follow him.

You don’t say anything as you take one more look, thinking about the beautiful view before the two of you lunge off the building and head back to meet Jess and Ben. In a few minutes you are back on the same rooftop you stepped out on initially. Ben is perched on the edge of the rooftop, looking down at the streets muttering something about a perfect pose. Jess on the other hand, stands in the middle of the rooftop, arms crossed but with an unreadable look on her face as Miguel and you land on the rooftop.

“Something happened?” she asks, eyeing the two of you.

Miguel shakes his head, “No anomaly matter detected.”

Jess nods even though she already knows there is no anomaly matter detected. She was asking about anything else happening but neither you nor Miguel bring up the purse robbery you stopped or that the two of you explored the city.

“We can go back to HQ then, right?” Ben asks, walking over to the three of you.

Miguel nods and opens a portal. “Right. I’ll take the devices now. I’ll upload the data,” he says and the three of you hand him back the small spider-like devices. The four of you travel back to HQ, stepping back out where you met earlier.

Almost immediately, Ben tells the three of you goodbye, saying he must go back to his own universe to check up on it. You take off your mask just as Jess turns to Miguel and you, with a raised eyebrow.

“Well? How did my pupil do?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest once again.

Miguel’s mask disappears as he looks at Jess before he turns to you for a few seconds, turning back to Jess. “Y/N is a good team member.”

Jess nods with a smile. “You can thank me for recruiting her.”

Miguel now stares at Jess with an unreadable look on his face as you stand there, feeling somewhat awkward as they’re talking about you… in front of you. You decide to speak.

“Well, it was great going on this mission. I hadn’t been to that universe before, so it was great to explore it while I worked on my assigned portion,” you say, trying to dispel whatever the leader of the Spider Society and his second in command are saying to each other through eye contact.

Jess gives you a knowing smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed it and did well on it. Maybe you’ll join us on more missions,” she says, saying the last statement to Miguel, who continues to stare silently. “Well. I’m going to go check up on my other pupils and see what they’re up to,” Jess says and with that she says her goodbye, leaving Miguel and you alone.

The two of you watch as she disappears from your sight. You turn to him, finding him staring right ahead.

“Thank you for the opportunity,” you say as you know that not everyone goes on missions with him. Plus, he allowed you to go explore the city - and he went with you.

Miguel nods. “No problem.” He looks down at the spider-like devices, holding all four of them in his large palm. “I must get going on. To upload this data,” he says.

You nod. “Yeah, of course. I’m going to-” you pause, checking the time on your gizmo. You suddenly remember that today you must organize the lab, around this time to be exact. “Oh. I’m heading to your lab. It’s organization day. Unless you prefer for me to go later?” you ask as the two of you start walking now.

He shakes his head. “No. It’s fine, you can come now.”

You nod and the two of you walk towards his lab. You walk silently together until you hear your stomach grumble, reminding you that you didn’t eat breakfast this morning and it’s now past midday. You keep silent, hoping Miguel didn’t hear that.

“You should go eat,” he says as he walks next to you, breaking the silence as other spider members walk past the two of you.

You look up at him. “I’ll eat afterw-” you start.

“You can organize the lab afterwards,” Miguel interrupts, sounding like you have no option.

You continue to look up at him, wanting to argue that you can eat afterwards but he gives you a look that immediately makes you reconsider.

“I’m guessing the first robbery kept you from having breakfast. It’s past midday and all you had was coffee. Go eat. The lab and the clutter will still be there when you’re done,” he says, looking down at you.

You nod slowly, somewhat in surprise at his attention. Before you can think more about it though, your stomach grumbles again, prompting Miguel’s eyes to drop to your abdomen. You feel heat rise to your cheeks.

Thanks stomach. Way to embarrass me, you think to yourself.

“Okay. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes,” you say before you walk away, heading to the cafeteria.

Miguel doesn’t say anything as he watches you walk off in the cafeteria’s direction. He feels his mouth move in an upward motion, but he catches himself, shaking his head slightly as if to clear his head before he heads to his lab to do what he said he was going to do.

Thirty minutes later, you call Lyla’s name and ask her to ask Miguel if you can enter the lab. Instead of bringing coffee like you usually do, you brought Miguel some empanadas and a drink. You enter the lab once Lyla clears you and head to him, finding him typing something before he turns around, his eyes falling on you.

“Hey. I’m back. I was heading out when I saw the cafeteria staff pull out a fresh batch of these. I think Miles – or was it Pav – I can’t remember who said it, but they said you like these,” you say as you approach his platform.

You hand him the food, bottle and eating utensils even when you notice his furrowed brows. He takes the items from you, and you meet his eyes.

“Unless you don’t like them… Maybe I misheard,” you say, starting to question if you had heard Miles, or Pav, or whoever had said he liked empanadas right.

“Aw, Y/N. You’re so sweet. Miguel definitely likes them,” Lyla reveals popping up in front of you, assuring you.

You nod with a smile at her and then face Miguel. “I thought you could use some lunch, too,” you say before you turn away and head to the first surface to begin organizing it.

Miguel stares down at the items in his hands before he finally replies, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

You hum in response as you begin separating the pieces. Miguel turns around, placing the bottle on his desk. He looks at one of his screens, his work taking his attention for a moment before he finally opens the box. The delicious, and comforting, scent of freshly made empanadas fills his nostrils immediately. His stomach growls, incited by the scent of food. He picks up one empanada with his fork, seeing that you brought him four in total, and takes a bite as his eyes fall on his screen again.

The two of you, or three if you count Lyla, spend the next hour in the lab alone. You organize the lab quietly, not speeding through it like you did three weeks ago on Peter’s birthday. Miguel eats the empanadas and works on his monitors. Lyla hops from you to Miguel. She asks questions about your life recently when she’s with you and helps Miguel when he calls for her.

Neither you nor Miguel notice the little, sneaky glances that the bubbly AI assistant gives you as you both work on your own thing. She silently thinks about the two of you on that building on Earth-42 and everything that has happened so far between the two of you. She grins and hopes as she pops up in front of you.

“Favorite season?” she asks.

“Autumn,” you reply instantly.

“Hey, Miguel loves autumn, too.”

You smile. “It’s the best season.”

“You hear that, Miguel? You’ve said that before, too,” Lyla calls out.

Miguel rolls his eyes at Lyla though she cannot see his face. “It is the best season,” Miguel replies, agreeing with you.

“Boo! I like summer better.”

“You can’t even feel the seasons, Lyla,” Miguel says, turning around to look at you and Lyla.

“If I was a human, I would love summer.”

-----------------------------

Translation for italicized words:

Mierda - Shit

I'm sorry for how long this is. I'm going to try and cut back on the last parts, unless you guys are okay with them being this long? Please let me know if you guys mind. I could try and do shorter parts but the story would be a few parts longer than what I was planning.

I hope to have the next part out sooner. I took longer with this one because I had some things going on but I hope you guys enjoyed it. I loved Miguel telling the reader to go eat, like AHH! He's so 🤭I love him! Anyway, thank you for the support so far. Your comments and asks make my day 🥹 If you guys have short writing requests for Miguel that you'd like for me to do, send them my way.

I love Miguel O'Hara.

Tag List:

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@mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @mandodinstuff @muzansucker

469 notes · View notes

k2ntoss · 3 months

Note

Omg omg omg

Pls do “shit— do that again” and “this is so wrong” with dickie grayson pretty please

(The second prompt gives enemies to lovers vibes SO MUCH, so if it’s included the better.)

— ❤️‍🩹 xx

SECOND ANON WITH AN EMOJI, LET'S FUCKING CELEBRATE!! first of all, thank you so much for this request, i have an idea buzzing into my head and if i don't post it i'll go insane (i'm already insane) and second... i'm listening to the weeknd so yeah....

“do that again- shit, just like that, right there.” + "this is wrong... so wrong." (plus enemies to lovers trope omg yes please!!!)

dick has never been known to be a bad detective, his partners adore him and so does every kid and person he helps, he does his job so well everyone is aware that whenever he's got a new case he will be at it all the time but there is just one person that doesn't really agrees with that, dick knows it and it gets on his nerves because it's always just his cases and investigations the ones that you observe and deny before they reach the court.

he really hated the moment he had to go present his case to the prosecutor, mostly when it was you who was assigned to it and what's worse it's that dick knows that you take it personal because there's no way on earth you let mobs or criminals to pay for justice and that is pretty much clear when you have an amazing percentage of cases won where criminals end up getting what they deserve.

"you have to be joking," at this point is almost a routine. dick arrives to your office with a folder filled with documents and reports from the officers and his own, a box full of evidence he picked up and sent to check to the labs, all the signed paperwork and the hope that you won't send him back to re-do all the work from zero "everything is in that folder!"

"detective, would you lower your damn voice?" you'd ask him, the snark on your tone is upsetting and dick has to take a deep breath to cool down a bit "there are several forms you haven't filled, how do you expect me to work like this?" and it was true, paperwork was important even if everyone hated doing it.

"you can't return the whole investigation for a couple of stupid papers! it's a big case, if you return it to the station we'll have to let the criminals go because the time runs up." dick is starting to lose every trace of patience and good will he has, hands gripping the fabric of his trousers and his hands clench a little more when you look at him, unamused and with any intention to help him.

"i can't help you if you don't bring everything in order, not to say that there are so many things that don't make sense on your files," you say, reading through some pages "this doesn't looks like a real detective's work, how do you expect me to do anything with this?" you leave the folder down, looking at him with your arms crossed over your chest and leaning back on the chair behind your desk.

dick is about to scream, you're telling him his work sucks and sending him back to do it all over again when he is sure there are cases pilling up back in the station but he has to hold it back. it's weird that the person he despises the most isn't some villain he fights at night but a prosecutor that he desperately wants to shut up for once and for all.

you are way too cocky for your own good and since the first case you dismised from his hands he has wanted to show you why he had the reputation he had, he's fighting his rage right now because he knew that in this case you were right and it would be stupid to keep pushing but he was too stubborn and a little too lost on how much he liked to get in your nerves.

"there's no way you can't help me with that case," he says and dick's voice is now an indicator of how upset he is feeling, not only because of you dismissing his work but also because this time he wasn't right (not that he has been before, he always forgot a paper or the whole background of a piece of evidence because he was too distracted on thinking how jolly the moment would be when you'd had to accept his work) "you just don't want to do it and that's bullshit, you should be dismissed from all the station's cases because this is personal."

"detective grayson," you warn him, if it was on your hands you'd help him just as you always tried to help but as a prosecutor you had to stick to the rules and make sure your coworkers did just the same "i'd suggest you to lower your tone and keep your emotions in check, the fact that i can't work with this investigation it's not my fault." you said, letting the folder fall back on your desk before standing up.

there went the last string of patience and good will dick had, he stood up but stayed still until you started walking your way to the door and he'd be lying if your figure wasn't distracting him a little bit with the way that greenish button up shirt hung a little loose on your shoulders but gave a hint of your figure. he had to shake his thoughts away and as soon as he saw your hand reaching for the door he darted towards you, pushing the door closed shut again and standing a little too close to you.

dick is hovering over you, looking down as his eyes fix on yours and there's no way to hide the surprise of the sudden outburst that causes you to flinch a little.

"you think so high of yourself, y/n," dick hisses as his eyes narrow, he leans in closer and it sends a spark that danced between anger and pure expectation from what he could do "you think that you make the fucking calls and that is just so upsetting, i wish i could just bring you down from that cloud and show you just what you are." he points at you and it's distracting because dick grayson has always managed to keep his anger in check.

"keep your emotions in check, detective" it was another warning, it came throught gritted teeth and narrowed eyes as you stand still ready to snap back at him on the first chance "am i the one that thinks too high of themself? let me break it to you, grayson, at least i'm trying to do my job as i have to."

the banter between you two has always been a little more snarky and less heated, not to be taken so serious because what you wanted to do was to push dick to do his absolute best so you could also help people to be safe out on the streets, living their lives but this time was just different because there was something else fueling the words.

there's a spark that ignites inside of dick as soon as your words hit close to home and next thing you know is that you're being cornered against the door of your office and he managed to inmobilize you; he grabs your shoulder to turn you around, his right leg between yours and his face right next to yours.

"you think you're better than the rest of us just because you get to take the credit of putting the bastards we catch behind bars but you just have to sit pretty here," he speaks lowly into your ear, his tone making it clear that he was letting it all out, months of bottled up frustration flowing out of him "you do nothing but talk, that's all that mouth of yours can do and it was just time someone put you in your place."

"richard grayson, you better back the fuck up now or–" you start, the warning hanging in the air and interrupted by a low grunt that just escaped your lips when he pressed a bit more against you just to mess with your nerves, causing his thigh to press a bit more between your legs and sending a jolt through your spine that mixed with all the emotions "do that again– shit," and even tho he is surprised and a little taken aback by your reaction he complies, moving closer until he could feel his leg pressed up against your clothed core and he decided to grind it teasingly "just like that, right there..."

"that's all it takes to turn off your brain?" he asks mockingly, his hand pressed between your shoulders as his lips brush against your era and it's easy to hear the smirk on dick's voice "pin you against the door and let you grind yourself against my thigh? it's pathetic how a smartmouth like you turns to a puddle when someone touches your cunt like this."

yeah, it's pathetic because he managed to shut you up without even trying and he's proud of it. his hand trails down your back until it reaches the lower part of it making sure to hold your body in a way you couldn't move your hips to grind on his thigh.

"go on, why don't you move?" he asks teasingly, his hand pressing harder when he felt the jerk of your hips and an amused laugh escapes his throat when you grunt frustrated "who would have thought that miss great prosecutor was such a desperate little slut." and he could have stopped there, make you help him because you'd be too embarrased to deny him anything after putting this show for him but dick decided to lean in and press a lingering kiss on your neck that made your breath catch on your throat.

"dick– fuck, don't be such an ass" you say in a hoarse tone, looking at the ceiling as you try to rock your hips once again, feeling yourself able to do so when dick's hand wanders from your back to your stomach and then up, resting between your breasts as he breathes you in.

"pretty fucked up, isn't it?" he asks against your neck, nibbling on the side of your neck as his fingers start undoing the buttons of your shirt while you grind against his thigh and everything feels so forbidden, one of your hands moving to lock the door because there was no way you'd let yourself get caught being groped by the detective you've told all your department you hated.

it wasn't news for your coworkers that dick and you had a long history of not getting alone but truth be told, you just wanted to make dick give his best because that would also allow you to give your best. it was a win-win, if only he saw it that way because you weren't trying to buy more time for the criminals to make up evidence or build new alibis or get fake witnesses.

dick gets your shirt open, his hands messily working on pulling your bra down and growling lowly when he saw your breasts spilling out against the door, his eyes moving from your chest to the way your features contorted from the way you were getting yourself off like this. with every jerk of your hips he could feel your ass pressed against his cock, the bulge inside his dressing pants now hard in a way you could feel it againt your body.

he lets go of you, turning you around and ignoring your grunt when you were left without that pleasurable feeling on your aching pussy. his hands gripping your hips as he presses a hungry kiss on your lips, demanding and bruising between the smirk it draws from him when you kiss him back with the same need as your hands undo his shirt, pulling it away from his body as he manages to walk until he is sitting on your desk with you sitting on his lap.

the messy making out is only interrupted when the clothes come out of your body, heavy breathing as he squeezes and gropes your flesh into his hands in a rush of pure lust that's fueled by the way your wetness feels when pressed against his hard on as he moves you to tease your pussy, his shaft moving between your folds and the wet sounds are only muffled by the low moans and growls you both try to keep as low as you can.

"this is wrong..." you say breathlessly, feeling how dick picks your body up with his arm around your waist as his free hand lines his tip with your entrance and he grunts into your neck when you are the one that slides down on him with your eyes closed shut "so wrong, god."

it's not much when your body moves on its own, going up and down on his cock as he looks up at you, hands gripping your waist to hold you as his lips are around one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it while your nails sink into the skin of his shoulders.

you'd never set yourself into this kind of situations but there was no time to think about how wrong this was when it felt so good, the way he filled you up as you rode him slowly, teasing him to grip your hips in order to set the pace to make you bounce on him.

"you look so good like that, fuck," he whispers against your chin when you start grinding on him, his hands on your hips so hard that his fingers bruise your skin as he thrusts deeper into your pussy "so desperate fucking yourself like a bitch in heat, you think you're using my cock for your pleasure but you're nothing but a pretty toy."

his words work as a turn on, the way he looks at you with hunger and need as he pounds harshly inside your cunt makes you moan without care on who could hear you.

"you look so pretty like that, so tight around me" he grunts into your ear and it's right there when he takes the lead, setting a fast pace as he holds your hips to make your body bounce "you like it like this? when you're being used like a dirty whore, sweetheart?"

"i like it so much, fuck–" you whine and the sound of your voice makes him chuckle, this was pretty bad because the degrading words were making you needier and the way you couldn't hide it made you appear more like a slut for him, clenching around him the closer you got to your climax as he hit all the right spots with each thrust he gave.

it was hard to talk for you, between moans and whines of pure delight that came after each stroke dick made as he kissed your jaw but he had no problem on doing it while his hand moved and reached that space on your pussy.

his thumb pressed against your clit made you shiver into his arms, whinning pathetically as he played with your sensitivity with a wide grin "look at the little mess you are, always so collected and now you're here with your legs all spread for me to fuck you into a brainless slut."

"dick– i'm close" you say, eyes teary and voice broken as your face finds a place into the crook of his neck but it's not too much time until he finds your gaze, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss into your lips before he pulls back and nods, thrusting in a faster pace and with deeper strokes.

"c'mon, cum for me, sweetheart." he growls against your ear, both hands holding your waist as your movements become sloppier and erratic, the tension on your belly building more and more until your orgasm hits your whole body making your walls clench tighter around him "that's it, that's a fucking good girl... i'll pull out now, yeah?"

and he doesn't wait for your response, knowing you won't be able to think straight while you were still on your high and with you still straddling his lap dick moves, strocking his cock until he is throbbing into his fist before he reaches his own climax, painting your stomach with those milky white streaks.

maybe, just maybe now he could find a way to fix his work without feeling so upset about it.

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etheries1015 · 3 months

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I was thinking- what if Vil does one of those celebrity documentaries when he's older? He's settled down with you, you have kids, his career is still going good. He'll talk about when you guys decided to settle down and have kids (the home video clips of him loving his kids 🥲). They'll sit you down and you just radiate loving housewife energy and someone will sneakily catch on camera Vil looking at you so softly while you're recording your part. Him admitting his problems with Neige (and the team interviewed him too but he still has no idea about Vil's true feelings), how he always wanted a role outside of being a villain. Rook having his own interviews being his usual self but also suddenly showing up in your home during filming. Epel wanting to get in on it to kinda reveal the bs Vil made him put up with (and Vil just chuckles cause he still knows he was right) and to promote the farm. And then Vil mentions how he owes Malleus favors (does he reveal he overblotted?). Cue the screen suddenly showing Malleus sitting comfortably in a chair and smiling smugly. And then you notice he's in your home. And he's just like, "Oh, yes. I did Schonheit some favors back then." And it shows some backstage footage of the film crew wondering if they should even try and contact THE Malleus Dragonia to get an interview, and if they do if they actually have the guts to. But before they can decide you pull up, "Oh? You wanna talk to Mal? Let me ask him!" And you just speed dial him and ask and once you hang up he's magically poofed into your home for the interview. He doesn't mind talking about Vil and you but also sneaks in some gargoyle stuff. There's also extra footage of your still young kids hearing Mal is here and running up to him, "Uncle Mal~!!" And you, Vil, Mal, and the kids having a small tea break.

Oh man, what're you doing dropping this beautiful piece in my inbox when you should post it on your page and get the attention it deserves?? Because this is ADORABLE and AMAZING! All the ideas you threw out in here were so cute, Vil finally having the confidence to talk about you and his family, his carreer as a total...plus that Malleus blurb LMFAOOOO, When you're asked what person in your school years affected you most other than Vil or what friends you had that were most prominent, you say "Oh, Malleus Draconia! I think he's king of brair valley right now, though."

Everyone just stares at you in shock, but Vil kinda like "You have his number, right? Call him over." (He did it for the drama...he thought it would be funny for the documentary, and he was right. It became the most replayed part of the entire section.)

AND YOUR KIDS WITH VIL TALKING AND HANGING OUT WITH MALLEUS LIKE OL' CHUMS IS SO ADORABLE. When Malleus comes over, he always has some sort of riches or treasures for your children. He's constantly playing with them. He's your go-to baby sitter and he LOVES it. You being best friends with Malleus while married with Vil HAS to be my favorite thing about ALL OF THIS. It's so adorable i'm sobbing crying shaking throwing up.

The home clips...oh my gosh i'm so soft. YES!! Imagine when the documentary gets released, so many people point out places that they noticed Rook was in the background in the videos when you didn't see them before. It was insane, an entire conspiracy theory trend came out of it.

I like to think you have home videos of VIL being the housewife, cooking in his "Kiss the queen" Apron while holding one of your children on his side and using a spatula to flip the pancakes with the other. He had no idea you released this to the director, it came a shock to him when there was a section of the documentary dedicated to how you felt being married and having kids with one of the worlds biggest stars. He probably cried a little about it, ngl.

PLEASE I IMPLORE YOU reveal yourself!! Or post this!! Because it's such a cute idea and I think you truly deserve the rightful attention! But thank you for sharing, this was such a fun read and I enjoyed exploring / expanding more on it heuheuheu.

#Vil #Vil schoenheit #Twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcannons #Vil X reader #vil schoenheit x reader #Vil schoenheit headcannons #twst headcannons #etheries rants💜✨#Malleus #malleus draconia

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kinzis-writing · 6 months

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Last Christmas | Rafe Cameron

Kinzi's 25 Days of Christmas: Blogmas day 3

Summary: It's Christmas in Outer Banks, the holiday where you got to spend time with your friends. It's hard to enjoy the holiday when your mind goes back to last Christmas and who you were spending it with.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warning(s): a few cuss words, hints at ward cameron being a unaliver, mentions of breakup, soft! rafe.

Disclaimer: in this imagine Rafe did NOT kill peterkin and he’s not psycho. He’s a normal boy who just needed some extra love. So in this imagine Ward will be the villain 100% and Rafe 0% (besides breaking up)

*Gif not mine* *Not proofread or edited!*

*Christmas Eve - OBX*

It had been 11 months since you had been in Outer Banks, your breakup with your ex-boyfriend had been too hard on you to stay. After that you felt the need to leave Outer Banks and your family had finally convinced you to come back and spend the holidays with them. You knew that they would try to convince you to stay and not go back to living with your aunt on the mainland, however, you were unsure if that would be the best choice.

"Y/N!" Sarah shouted as she ran to hug you. The big house your family parked outside of looked familiar, but no longer felt like home. It wasn't what you were used too, or maybe it was what was no longer with you. "I am so glad your back, we've missed you around here." she stated pulling away from the hug.

You were like Sarah, born a kook but turned into a pogue. The only difference is that your family did not make a difference between the kooks and pogues. There had been many times when your family had fed the pogues or gave them a place to stay when they needed it. Your family was very understanding, and you appreciated every little thing they did for your friends.

"Only back for the holidays." Y/N told her as the two headed into the big house that she used to call home. The girl's quickly made their way up to the room that was her’s so they could get Y/N settled in. “It feels unreal, being back in this bedroom.” She muttered memories of her and her ex flooded her mind. No one knew Rafe Cameron the way that Y/N. While he was trouble, most of the time, he was caring around her. Well, she thought so anyways.

Sarah gave the girl a small smile, “there’s a party, John B decided to have a Christmas celebration.” The Cameron girl spoke. “Your parents allowed them to use your guest house, out back…” she trailed off. Knowing that the idea of a party would make the girl nervous.

“Why would they do that?” Y/N asked going through her clothes knowing she’d be dragged to this party regardless of what she wanted.

Sarah shrugged, “John B said it was a “get together” type thing and you know how your family is about welcome home celebrations.” She explained watching the girl shuffle through the clothes that she was putting away. “You’re just back for the holidays, remember? Let’s make the most of it with our friends.”

🎄

By 10 that night the party was on, the guest house behind Y/N’s house was overflowing with guests who had greeted the girl back with open arms. She had showed up an hour late, due to worrying about what to wear, how to do her hair and makeup, and stalling in hopes of not seeing him.

“Y/N, the life of the party decided to come back to us!” JJ Maybank yelled over the music as the girl joined the pogues in the den. “Y/N, you know my girlfriend Kiara, right?” He asked smuggled.

Y/N’s eyes widen in shock, “really, you two? When did that happen?” She asked surprised about her friends becoming lovers.

“Let’s just say that you’ve missed a lot.” Kiara spoke before pulling the girl into a bone crushing hug, “it’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” y/n spoke with a smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to be rude so your guest of honor is going to go grab a drink.”

Y/N made her way through the crowd and into the cramped kitchen. She was pouring herself a drink and just thinking about her life. She had thought that being back made her feel out of place, that was until she was next to her friends then she felt at home.

“I’ll be damned,” a voice spoke from behind her as she slowly stopped pouring her drink. “I honestly didn’t think I’d see you again.” The voice of her former friend continued.

Y/N sat her cup on the kitchen counter and turned around to face the man behind her. “Kelce,” she greeted with a smile. “It’s good to see you.” She added as she stepped forward and pulled the man into a hug.

“It’s great to see you.” He replied as they pulled away. He glanced around the kitchen before looking back at her. “Have you seen him since you’ve been back?” He asked carefully unsure of how the the girl would reply.

Y/N shook her head as she turned around the grab her drink, “I was hoping to avoid him.” She mumbled before taking a sip of the drink. “It hurt, bad.” She shrugged thinking back to last Christmas and how close they were. “I had to get out and I don’t plan on ever coming back permanently.” She spoke the truth. At this current time, she had no plans of staying in outer banks.

Kelce gave her a sad smile, “I know Rafe puts on a facade, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t hurt too.” The man told his best friend’s ex. He knew that the two of them were inseparable and truth be told, Rafe didn’t tell anyone as to why they broke up.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the man in front of her before playing with her fingers. “Maybe but-” she cut herself when she looked around kelce and locked eyes with the one man that she planned to avoid. “I have to go.” She mumbled after looking away from Rafe. She walked around kelce and made her way back to the pogues.

It was going to be a long night and she knew it.

The party had been going on for a few hours and everyone was either drunk, passed out, making out, or playing games. Y/N had only had two drinks, making her pretty much sober because she didn’t trust herself if she was to get drunk. No matter where she went tonight she felt as if Rafe was following her or he knew her next step. She had locked eyes with him many times tonight and each time it got her heart racing, her hands sweaty, and made her nervous.

She didn’t understand why he still made her feel that way. After all, she was over him! Or was she? “Hey guys,” Y/N called as she walked over to the pogues. “Thank you guys for this Christmas slash welcome back party, but I’m super tired so I think I’m gonna walk back over and head to bed.” She told them. She gave them all hugs and said good night before leaving the guest house and heading back over to her house.

She was beyond excited to be able to go to sleep. Her parents were going on their houseboat tonight with some friends, so she’d have the house to herself and could relax all she needed. She knew that in order to face tomorrow and the days to come that she would need to get herself together.

“Did you honestly think you wouldn’t run into him at some point?” She asked herself in her head. She knew that she would at least see him, but she was hoping that he wouldn’t see her back or that she could avoid him.

Y/N pushed open her bedroom door while unzipping her dress. She was beyond ready to get out of that dress and get into comfortable clothes. “Holy shit!” She jumped when she moved her head up. Her hand instinctively went over her heart because of how fast it was beating.

Sitting in her desk chair beside her bed was Rafe Cameron. He didn’t have his usually cocky expression on his face, but a soft smile did form when he realized he had accidentally scared her. “I’m sorry,” his voice came out quietly and soft. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Y/N scoffed eyeing the man in front of her, “you didn’t mean to startle me? Why are you in my room?”

“I wanted to talk and I knew you’d run at the party.” Rafe shrugged as he pushed himself up from the desk chair.

“You lost the privilege to come over unannounced when you broke it off last year.” Y/N told him as she felt her chest get heavy at the thought of how things ended. She would’ve done anything for Rafe and everyone knew it, so whenever he broke it off… it was a shock.

“You never let me explain,” Rafe started as he walked a bit closer, but Y/N just scooted back not wanting him to get close. Mainly because she was afraid she’d give in. “A lot happened after you left and some of it is still going on.”

“Maybe it has, but Sarah also told me about your new girlfriend.” Y/N replied seeing his eyes darkened for a moment before he let out a huff. “I was obviously the problem with something going on in your head.”

Y/N knew that Rafe had anxiety and depression. she also knew that he was yearning to make his father proud because Sarah was their favorite. She had been with him through everything and that’s why she didn’t understand why he left her.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair before taking another step closer causing Y/N’s back to hit the wall when she stepped away. “My father wanted me to do his dirty work and I was afraid that he would hurt you if I refused.” Rafe explained the girl that he loved, even if he never told her. “I broke it off so you would be safe and he couldn’t use you against me. The one Sarah told you about was a distraction I was with her to replace you and it never worked.”

Y/N could see the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke about his father and his ex girlfriend. “I loved you, Rafe. I would’ve done anything for you and you know it!” She spoke her voice coming out in a whisper.

“I know that, baby.” Rafe spoke back equally as quiet. “Which is why I broke it off, he was crazy and the things he wanted me to do… I needed you here and I needed you alive.” He took another step and that made him right in front of the girl that he had fallen in love with himself. “I’ve always loved you, Y/N. I never properly said it but I do.”

Y/N sucked in a breath, her emotions weighing down on her. He just admitted his true feelings, something that he never did when they were actually together. It was surreal hearing those words come out of his mouth, something that she had never expected. "Then why not try to get through it?" she asked the hurt in her voice showing. "Last Christmas was the last good memory we have, and we didn't even break up until New Years Day."

"If my dad didn't do what he did then we would still be together." Rafe promised.

Y/N's eyes teared up thinking about losing Rafe, she had been with other people and for some reason she had fallen head over heels in love with Rafe Cameron. She was slowly accepting the fact that she was still very much in love with the Cameron boy.

"When are you going to stop living to please your family?" She asked softly. "You are so much more than what your family thinks of you, who cares what they view you as. You deserve to be loved, Rafe. You need to believe that." she whispered softly so she wouldn't make his softness break.

Rafe's eye matched Y/Ns as both of them held tears threatening to fall. He knew that Y/N understood his situation and never once judged him for it. Making him know that she was definitely a keeper and the one for him. Without saying anything, he quickly slammed his lips to hers. Scared that she would reject the kiss if she thought about it too long. He knew his way around her overthinking, seeing as he had helped her with it many times.

Y/N did not object the way he thought she would, instead she yearned for him. She had wanted him since she left outer banks and she had wanted him when she locked eyes with him in her guest kitchen earlier. If he was willing to be with her, even just for the night, she was going to take it. Because at least for one moment, it can feel like the love they had Last Christmas was still alive.

Author's Note: So, I was originally going to base this imagine as "Last Christmas" by WHAM! Turns out I went a different direction and a part two will come out the next time I write for Rafe. I think that it's in a week or two, so if you enjoyed it, I hope you'll stay looking for that. I also feel like this could have been better and that it could have been smoother, but it is what it is. Also, sorry this is so late! I had the stomach virus (stomach flu) and I felt miserable and today is the only day I started feeling like myself and I have also finished all my finals so now I am back to full time writing, excluding my work shifts!

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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 6 months

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A few weeks after #MeToo exploded on the internet, an old friend and I did what so many women did during that time: We got on the phone and finally began to acknowledge what had happened to us. My friend shared a story of hers from college. Back then, we’d all just considered it a “bad date,” but she now recognized it as sexual assault. She also shared that at nearly every single job she’s had since college, a boss or co-worker has sexually harassed her.

The month before our conversation, I had published an essay sharing my own experience of sexual assault while traveling abroad. Like my friend, it was not my only experience—it was one of many. But I’d only included the one, because in the early stages of #MeToo, the idea of sharing one assault story still felt risky. The idea of sharing more than one felt culturally impossible. My friend agreed.

“As a woman, you’re only allowed one #MeToo moment,” she told me. “After that, people begin assuming the problem must be you.”

Out of the many celebrity #MeToo stories told in the past five years, only a handful have acknowledged the experience of multiple assaults. In an HBO documentary, Alanis Morisette spoke about repeated incidents of statuatory rape that happened when she first entered the music industry, all of which “fell on deaf ears” when she tried seeking accountability. In her memoir, Selma Blair wrote about a teacher who sexually assaulted her, as well as the many men who raped her in her 20s. In an interview with Dazed, Amber Rose said, “I cannot even count how many times a famous guy touched me inappropriately.” On a social media post during the Kavanaugh hearings, Tatum O’Neal wrote about her multiple assaults: “It was not my fault when I was 5, 6, 12, 13, 15.”

Stories that emphasize the ubiquitous nature of assault are vital in a world that so often focuses on one dramatic episode, with visceral details of the violation and an easily identifiable villain. This amplifies the false idea that assault is just a singular, horrifying incident—when in reality, many of us experience it as part of a larger, more insidious culture.

Once a person is assaulted, research shows they’re more likely to be assaulted again, a phenomenon called “revictimization.” Around 50 percent of children who survive sexual assault reexperience it later in life, and even a single incident of sexual assault in adulthood can increase the risk for it to happen again. As psychologist A.E. Jaffe and her colleagues wrote in a 2019 paper on revictimization: “Perhaps the most consistent predictor of future trauma exposure is a history of prior trauma exposure.”

Why would this be? In lieu of a good answer for it (more on that in a moment), we often blame victims themselves. We easily justify these statistics by suggesting that anyone who has survived multiple incidents of violence must be asking for it—either by acting promiscuously, hanging around too many shady men, or getting themselves into precarious situations. One survivor I interviewed told me that though she received some form of victim-blaming in response to all three sexual assaults she experienced, she noticed a stark decrease in support each time it happened again.

“After the second and third, some people began saying, ‘What’s happening in your life to attract that?’ or ‘Do you have enough awareness to know when men want to harm you?’ ” she told me. “One person even asked why I was ‘trusting men so much.’ ” Another friend who experienced multiple assaults went through a similar line of questioning, only with herself. “After so many times, I began asking myself, ‘What is it about me that brings on these experiences?’ ” she said. I told her I ask myself that question all the time.

In his essay “Spectator” for Roxane Gay’s anthology on sexual assault stories, Not That Bad, Brandon Taylor wrote about his best friend telling him she was beginning to think she was “just the kind of person this stuff happens to.” For a long time, that’s what I believed, too. As a travel writer and a single bisexual woman, I figured that at some point, I’d pay the price. Eventually, I’d have to face some element of physical harm—wasn’t that the obvious trade-off for attempting a liberated life? To me, survivorship—more than resilience, bravery, or strength—often felt like resignation.

But in some cases, it’s exactly that resignation that influences repeat assaults. While there’s no conclusive evidence as to why revictimization happens, we do know that normalizing assault can contribute to future harm. If a survivor has not internalized their experience as exceptionally traumatic, they are less likely to advocate for themselves, or demand accountability if it happens again. If they, like me, accept violence as an obvious fact of their lives, then when it repeats, they don’t seek the support they need to process and heal from each experience.

In an article for Psychology Today, psychotherapist and clinical social worker Keith Fadelici called this a “cognitive accommodation to ongoing violence.” The trauma continuously gets downplayed as victims attempt to normalize their assaults, which helps them feel more in control. “This dissociative process is a common symptom of PTSD,” Fadelici told me. “And can also later make survivors less capable of detecting risk by numbing the fear that is supposed to trigger alertness to danger.”

Oppression also plays a significant role. Those with marginalized identities are more at risk for experiencing assault in general, and thus more likely to experience it again. LGBTQ+ people are four times more likely to be assaulted than the general population (bisexual women and trangender people also are far more likely to experience assault than gay men and lesbian women). Rates of sexual assault for Indigenous women are three times higher than non-Indigenous women, and Black women are much more likely to experience assault than white women. Neurodivergent people are 11 times more likely than neurotypical people to be victims of violent crimes.

“If this is coming up repeatedly with one individual, it might be because that person is within systems and structures that facilitate assault more often,” said Jaffe. For those of us living with any of these identities, we normalize violence because living under oppression is consistently violent. In order to survive, a “cognitive accommodation to ongoing violence” is necessary. We train ourselves to get used to it, and move on.

After #MeToo, I began reading and rereading the legal definitions for rape and sexual assault to make sense of what had happened to me. Any sexual contact that occurred without consent constitutes assault? Any sexual contact that included penetration without the other person’s consent constitutes rape? The criteria felt almost too easy. Under these standards, I had been raped twice, and assaulted several other times—all stories I had not yet fully internalized, and was not yet ready to tell. Dozens of legal crimes had been committed against my body, but that idea felt so unfathomable I hardly knew what to do next.

In the three years after publishing that first story, I experienced more incidents, and I still don’t know what to call them. I don’t feel comfortable firmly declaring them as “assault.” I don’t like how it connects so deeply with an oppressive legal system, and how it automatically connotes some excessive form of violence. Even today, it seems too strong and rough a word for how these episodes played out: often with little physicality, with only brief conflict and polite turns toward quick forgiveness, until weeks later when I’d unpack the severity of what had happened. As I began sharing more of these stories with close friends, I would catch myself saying “technically” before saying “I was assaulted,” acknowledging the semantic disconnect I still felt. This hesitation is common among many survivors: As one 2019 meta-analysis showed, rates of victimization increase when participants are asked “behaviorally descriptive questions” about what happened to them, rather than questions that use terms like “rape” and “assault.”

Sometimes, people ask “How many times all together?” I say “six-ish,” a number that captures the amount of experiences that have dramatically changed the way I relate to my body—how it experiences intimacy, how it engages with the world: The one that happened at work, just weeks into my first job out of college. The one at a festival in India. The one while getting a deep-tissue massage. The one at a New York play party. The one so common I learned it has its own name (“stealthing“). The one with a lover I had loved and trusted deeply. The one with another lover, a violation that was not sexual but physical and thus, as yet another nonconsensual act done against my body, still felt so connected to all the rest.

And this still does not take into account every time I was nonconsensually touched in public—the men who pulled and grabbed my arms, my back, my butt, my shoulders to try to get my attention on the street—nor the times I’ve been followed, harassed, physically threatened by strangers on the street.

The accumulation of more and more of these events creates a compounding impact, one where each additional incident begins to amplify the ones before. For me and most survivors I spoke to, we are not healing from trauma—we are learning how to exist in a world where trauma continues to accumulate.

Every survivor I interviewed for this piece told me they fully accept the potential that they’ll experience assault in the future. Still, most of them admitted to me that it’s still easier to only share just one story with the world—never the full range of what has happened to them. “When you only have one story, the enemy is the rapist,” one survivor told me. “But when you have several people with a lifetime of these experiences, the enemy is all of us.”

This is what we mean when we talk about rape culture. The first thing we can do to start to dismantle it is to recognize what we’re up against.

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coralinnii · 1 year

Text

I love the villain scorned by the world feat: Riddle genre: fluff, hint of drama note: continuation of villain/ess au Riddle ver., hints of obsessive behavior (heroine), roughly 1.2k word count

series masterlist

After a week of being snowed in and getting sick TWICE, I live!

The heroine was set to appear during his birthday celebration a few years into his reign as king. The original story was a classic tragedy where love is trapped between bliss and justice. According to the text, the heroine was said to have truly loved the tyrannical Riddle but his madness inevitably compelled her to go against her beloved.

However, since you’re working to avoid that version of your childhood friend, you assumed that the love would flourish in this more peaceful environment. When you asked Riddle if he had met the heroine, it seems that he may have been aware of her but was preoccupied with his pursuit for the throne. His response was very much like him

“Yes, I’m aware of that family and their daughter. Since I am the king, I would know my subjects. What about them?”

Wanting Riddle’s happiness, you asked to be in charge of the guest list to Riddle’s birthday celebration and despite your own feelings, ensured that the heroine’s family was invited. It was a party such as this that brought their fates together so you were simply setting up the scene earlier.

“I don’t think I’ve seen King Riddle this moody” Trey looked over your shoulder to watch Riddle stand alone before a few hopeful noble children walked up to him. “Are you really ok with this?”

You were made aware that every year Riddle chose to only dance with his closest aides, Trey and Cater, for his second dance instead of interacting with others. It was said that it was because he already felt uncomfortable dancing with someone with romantic intent since he had you, regardless how incapacitated you were at the time. As much as you felt butterflies flutter when you heard that, a sense of guilt and fear settled in you. You never wanted your choices to haunt Riddle this way but you realized your absence affect your old friend more than you think.

“Riddle’s only idea of a romantic partner is me, someone his mother arranged and then imprisoned.” a solemn look rests in your eyes. “I’m worried that Riddle may still feel guilty for my imprisonment, so tonight he should have the chance to choose his love without me as a burden”

“I’m sure King Riddle doesn’t-“ Trey tried to argue but you cut him off, standing your stance on the matter.

“This would be good for Riddle.” you insisted as you subtly maneuver your body to search for the redhead. You specifically ask him to dance with someone new, for the experience. And the sweet man he is, reluctantly agreed to your request.

With mixed feelings, you saw him dancing with someone else already and lo and behold, it was none other than the heroine. Out of the dozens of admirers in the crowd, the two managed to find their way to each other given the chance.

"I wonder if this was fate"

“See? Perhaps we’ll be introducing a new queen soon enough” you joked half-heartedly, tearing your gaze away from the dancing duo.

“He would be crushed if he ever heard you” Trey let out a sigh over the troubled couple he had to deal with. He glanced behind you and his lips suddenly formed a smirk. “You said you wanted Riddle to have the right to choose for himself, right?”

You grew skeptical of the bespectacled man but nodded your head anyway.

“Then, you should prepare yourself for his choice” he smirked.

You were confused over your friend’s cryptic words before you heard a soft sound, someone clearing his throat behind you.

Riddle stood behind you, taking a quick glance to you before speaking to your dance partner. “Pardon the intrusion but I’d like to request a dance with my spouse, if you don’t mind”

Trey hid his chuckle under his breath, barely disguising it as a cough. He released your hand and bowed to his King before leaving the two of you alone.

Choosing to ignore the blatant laugh of his aid, he turned to you with a soft gaze and offered his hand to you. “May I have this dance?”

Without second-guessing, you took his hand and nodded your consent. The two of you began to sway to the sounds of the live instruments. The rest of the attendees took the cue to make way for the royal couple to take center stage, which should make you a little nervous but being with Riddle tends to wash away such nerves.

You started the conversation. “So, how was your second dance?”

“It was…an experience, I supposed” Riddle answered a bit too unenthusiastic to your liking.

“A good one?” You pressed on as the two of you twirl in unison to the music.

“If you mean that it went as expected then yes” Riddle replied indifferently. “It’s standard for children of nobility to perform a simple waltz, afterall”

“Noooo, Riddle” you groaned at such a lackluster response which startled Riddle. “Dancing should be fun and enjoyable, romantic even”

You should have expected that Riddle would see this as a nobleman's obligation rather than a moment of bliss but you couldn’t help your expectations. You let out a sigh as you made a mental note to teach Riddle the nuances of romance instead of just throwing him into the water at the first chance. Lesson learned, you supposed.

Riddle, on the other hand, was starting to sweat. He hasn’t realized how different the concept of dancing could be for others. He perfected the art as a standard of the noble class but you seem to see dancing as an enjoyable and even intimate activity. Does this mean when you dance with others, you are enjoying the closeness of others? Do you rather dance with someone like Trey because it was more enjoyable with him than with your own husband?

“Am I…” Riddle hesitated which caught your ears. “Am I fun to dance with?”

You blinked, taking in the question. You watched your childhood companion fidget in your grasp, his body still in time with the music but you caught the slight shake in his fingers and his avoidant gaze. You wanted Riddle to experience romance but instead you brought up an insecurity over his lack of understanding the details.

“Good grief, I’m the worst”

Riddle felt your hand in his grasp shift, making him nervously believe that he had offended you in some way. However, your fingers worked to spread his own so you could interlocked your fingers between his. You called his name which Riddle automatically responded by turning his gaze solely on you.

“I absolutely love dancing with you, Riddle” you assured him with a bold proclamation, which elicited a red flush in Riddle’s cheeks. You may enjoy teasing him but your words always hold truth in them. You questioned him back, “How about you?”

Riddle recalled the times he danced without you. Aside from tonight, he has only danced with his mother, Trey, Cater, and even Chen’ya on occasion but the moment he shared with you in his hold as you allowed the music to sway you and Riddle unconsciously letting you manipulate his movement to your pace, felt incredibly different. It was the same type of music and the same type of dance, but yet the warmth and energy building in him feels so much better than anything he had experienced before.

He finally answered, smiling the largest he has all night, “I think I love it too”

Hidden in the crowd, a pair of eyes bore angrily at the couple. The heroine glared intensively at you without your notice, envious of the affection pouring out from the king for you. No one has ever witnessed their King treat someone this kindly but for all to see, Riddle held you like you were a precious jewel and gaze at you with the such admiration made it too obvious to anyone in the room how important you were to their ruler.

“I refuse…I absolutely refuse!”

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #villainess au

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billiethepumpkin · 8 months

Text

My Name: Dabi

Kinktober Day 2

Warning: Rated X. This content is intended for those aged 18 years or older. If you are a minor, please do not interact.

Contains: Alcohol/drunkenness. Minor injury. Grinding. Teasing. Hickeys. Nipple play. Fingering. Edging, both intentional and accidental. Vaginal sex. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Slightly aggressive sex. Birthdays. Feelings of self-hatred.

Author's Note: I know that Dabi is an adult, but I'm still an old fuck :)

Also, this is a repost! I wrote this a while, and I loved it. So here it is again.

It had been several days since you had been to Dabi’s apartment. He had asked you to get several things for him, seeing as he can’t be seen in public. He couldn’t put his freedom on the line, just for groceries. And you were happy to oblige, seeing as you’d be going to his house anyway at some point or another. You had been there dozens of times before, maybe even hundreds. It was dark. There was barely any furniture; just whatever Dabi could find in the dump at night, along with one singular small television that you managed to buy him for your most recent Christmas together.

When you got to his apartment, he cracked the door open slowly, carefully, until he saw that it was you. He was so drunk you could smell the alcohol as soon as the door to his apartment swung open. He was shirtless, his hair quite a bit messier than usual. If you hadn't been in love with him, you might've said he looked pathetic. You wondered how much he had drank, but the empty bottle of some sort of alcohol sitting on the coffee table was a dead giveaway. It was a surprise to you. Dabi knew you were coming over. You had this planned for a little over a week. You’d planned to bring him groceries right after you got your weekly paycheck, and that was today. “-ey there, pretty girl,” he slurred, leaning in the doorway for a moment. Worried, you pushed past him with your paper bags of groceries, almost completely ignoring his words.

As you put away the groceries, you take a minute to ponder. Why would he be like this? What had gotten into him? You knew Dabi was a drinker. After what hell he’s been through, he needed a vice, a coping mechanism. And you couldn’t argue that being drunk did help the pain sometimes. But why today, when he knew you’d be here?

Before Dabi had downed his second double shot of whiskey, he had been sulking. Sulking over the anniversary of his birth–today. He was reminiscing on the previous birthdays he had celebrated when he lived with the rest of his family. He remembered the way Natsuo always tried to make a big deal of it. But it never mattered. It never mattered because his father never even so much as glanced in Dabi’s direction–not even on his own son’s birthday. He never told anyone that his birthday was today. And even after almost a year of knowing each other, you still didn’t know Dabi’s birthday.

You put the groceries away, taking your time to organize them as best you could, before you turned to your boyfriend. He was leaning in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, his head leaning completely against the wall. When you turned to him, he was actually pouting. Yes, Dabi, the man who had survived years of domestic abuse, an entire forest fire, and dozens of missions with the League of Villains, was pouting.

You huffed a small laugh before stepping towards him, his back now against the wall, looking down at you. “What’s wrong?” you cooed up at him with a soft smile.

“You hav’n’t giv’n me ‘ny att’ntion,” he slurred. “Doesn’ y’r boyfr’nd deserve s’me love on ‘is birthday?” He let it slip.

And he really didn’t even mean to. He didn’t realize he even said it out loud until your eyes widened with worry, and you asked, “It’s your birthday?!” Before Dabi could even answer, your shoulders sank with sadness. “I’m so sorry,” you said. “I had no idea. How can I make it up to you? You know what? How about I make you dinner, hm?”

Dabi slowly, tiredly shook his head. “Don’ w’rry about it,” he whined, his eyes drooping and his hands resting on your hips.

“Come on,” you said. “You have to eat something. It’ll help you sober up. How about I order something?” Before Dabi could even think of a response, you were already calling the takeout place you had shown him on your first date and ordering his favorite food for him. Fuck, why did you have to be so… sweet? And caring? Dabi was trying to pretend it wasn’t his birthday. He didn’t need you going and ruining it.

He didn’t know what to say. You looked so sad, feeling like you had failed as a girlfriend, forgetting his birthday and trying to make it up to him. He couldn’t tell you yet. Dabi needed you to feel better first. Damn, how did he end up comforting you? Oh well, he thought. He couldn't be angry at you for just caring so much. Even if it was ruining his plans of sulking.

Dinner came, and you ate together, watching a TV show on your Netflix account. When your food containers were discarded on the table in front of you, he started to get dizzy from the alcohol, and he laid his head on your shoulder.

“Why’d y’ do all that?” he slurred, his eyes threatening to fall closed.

Your eyebrows angled in worry and guilt. “Well… I just wanted…” you began, “to make your birthday special. I forgot all about it, and I didn’t even get you anything–”

“Stop,” he said, waving his hand. “I’s not y’r fault. I didn’ tell you.”

“Oh,” you sighed. “Why not?” You treaded carefully. You worried that too many questions might cross some boundaries, that he might have done it on purpose.

“I’s not a big deal, m’kay?” he mumbled.

You looked at the floor instead of at him. You waited for some kind of real answer, but after several minutes, it was clear you weren’t going to get one. You prodded further. “It’s just that–”

“I’s none ‘f y’r bus’ness,” he groaned, his brows pinching together. He lifted his head, the room spinning slightly. He stood up, refusing to talk about anything. But as soon as he was lifted to his feet, he lost his balance, falling face-first into the corner of the coffee table. You gasped, and you crouched next to your boyfriend, a small cut just above his eyebrow.

“You okay?” you asked, seeing the cut and brushing the dyed dark hair out of the way. He didn’t say anything back. You offered him your hand, and he reluctantly took it, slowly standing up and moving to the couch. You went to his bathroom and found the first-aid kit–the one you forced him to keep in his apartment for times when one of you was being an idiot. You brought back an alcohol wipe and a bandage. You sat straddling one of his legs with the flashlight of your phone illuminating the space. Once he was all patched up, his eyes remained closed as his head rested on the couch cushions behind him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked in a whisper.

Dabi shook his head. “Jus’ don’ like my birthday,” he answered, looking down, his gaze refusing to meet yours. And suddenly it all clicked. He didn’t have to say anything else. You were being an idiot. Months ago, he told you all about his father, and you were just now putting all the pieces together. Dabi’s birthday was a not-so-gentle reminder of who he was supposed to be and who he was not. And for that he refused to forgive himself.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your hands resting on the space between his neck and his shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, now gently lifting his chin so that his lips met yours. You kissed him over and over again, one turning into hundreds. The difference in feeling between his upper and lower lip was vast. The top was soft, smooth. The bottom would have felt chapped if you didn’t know any better. His rough hands, outlined with cold staples, slid under your dress and rested on your plush thighs. You inhaled sharply at the sensation of metal against your skin.

He pulled away, and you looked down at him with a longing in your eyes. “You okay?” he asked as your skin adjusted to him. You nodded, and you desperately pulled him back into your kiss. His hands ventured further up your legs, eventually coming to rest on your hips, where the lace waistband of your panties dipped into your flesh. Dabi’s fingers splayed against your skin, the different textures melting into your flesh and making you shiver. He fondled the waistband of your panties, making you involuntarily squirm against him. The friction of his clothed leg against you was enough to egg you on. You grinded your clothed sex against him one more time, and he grinned into your lips. His right hand trailed the outline of your panties against your thigh, and eventually rubbed his thumb against your clit on the outside of your underwear. You sighed into his lips, impatiently waiting for more, wondering what would be “too forward.”

You laced your fingers into his long black hair, gently caressing the back of his head. Dabi let his head fall back, leaving his neck open for you to take between your lips. You pulled away long enough for Dabi to pull his shirt over his head. Due to Dabi’s burns, his neck was much less sensitive than the rest of his body. He could barely even feel the contact your lips were making with his neck. You knew this. You moved to his chest, just below the staples, and Dabi sighed into your touch. He could barely even think straight. He had never remembered a time when someone treated him like you treated him, when someone was as thoughtful and as considerate as you. He could only sit back and watch as you gently sucked a piece of his flesh into your pretty mouth and swiped your tongue over it. He’d never been given a hickey before. Most people were too scared to touch his neck. But here you were, finding a way and making it enjoyable for him.

“Fuck~” he groaned as you let go of his flesh with a pop. “I love you so goddamn much.” He lifted your face and slotted your lips into his. His right hand remained on your still-clothed pussy, but his left hand moved to unhook your bra. He struggled for a moment, trying to concentrate on everything at once, but you helped out by pulling your dress over your head, unhooking it yourself, and tossing your bra to the floor. Dabi had seen you naked plenty of times before. Hell, you had fucked on the first date. But seeing you now through his drunken lens, an even mixture of love and lust behind your eyes, made his cock twitch. He wanted to show you exactly how much he loved you the best way he could.

He took your nipple, hardened against the cool air of his apartment, between his lips. You let your head fall back, hair ghosting against your back. You let out a whine as his tongue swiped over your breast, his thumb gently brushing against your sex through the lace of your panties. Soon, you felt his soft fingertips push your panties into a thin line to the left of your pussy. Now, his thumb brushed against your bare clit, pulling another whine from your lips, longer this time with enough desire to make a saint blush. Pleased, Dabi dipped two of his fingers between your folds and played in your arousal for a moment, thoroughly coating his fingers in your slick, relishing in your scent and desperate to pull more sighs and whines from your love-swollen lips.

Dabi’s lips pulled away from your tit to look up at you as two of his long fingers slipped past your entrance. Your mouth dropped into a pretty O shape, mimicking a moan as Dabi’s drunken gaze met your lustful one. You let the shaky moan escape your lungs as his palm rested against your clit and his fingers curled inside you. Dabi’s lips were just centimeters from your own. Dabi closed the gap, slotting his lips into yours and beginning to move his fingers inside you. Your lack of sounds, however, led Dabi to believe this wasn’t enough. He picked you up and switched spots with you, laying you down on the couch with your legs still spread. He quickly pushed his fingers back into you, curling them again to hear you moan, louder this time from the new position.

Dabi began to lazily pump his fingers in and out of you, the palm of his large hand pushing against your clit with each thrust of his wrist. He absent-mindedly palmed the growing bulge in his jeans, too focused on your pretty noises to realize that he could fully stroke himself. “Dabi~” you whined, “you’re gonna make me cum!” Dabi groaned at the name. He didn’t know it bothered him until right now. He’d have to think about it later, the way that name made him feel, especially coming from the lips of his girl, someone he was supposed to love. He’d think about it later.

“Tha’s th’ point,” he growled, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind. “Cum f’ me, sweet girl.”

It was the nickname. The nickname had you flying over the edge, the rope of pleasure snapping in the pit of your stomach. Your orgasm gushed over Dabi’s fingers and dripped down your ass cheeks, your moans tumbling over your tongue like dice.

Without a moment to rest, Dabi unzipped his jeans, his dick aching to be set free from their denim and polyester prison, desperate to be buried inside you. He slapped the tip of his cock against you several times, sliding himself between your folds and coating himself in the liquid of your orgasm. When he rested his head against your entrance, your eyes widened. “Too much,” you whined. “D-dab-bi, I c-can’t–”

“Don’ call me that ‘nymore,” he commanded, looking you dead in the eyes. It wasn’t him being bratty or demanding or even the “dom.” The sentence came out of nowhere, without Dabi even thinking. The small amount of worry in your eyes made Dabi question his own words. He swallowed hard, the look in his eyes changing from fiery to soft in a matter of seconds, trying to silently assure you he wasn’t angry.

You were panting and shaking, not-so-patiently awaiting the stretch of his cock against your walls. “W-what do I call-all you the-en?” you stuttered, eyes flashing between his hips and his eyes.

“My name,” he answered, “is Touya.” With no time for you to respond, Dabi–rather, Touya–slammed his entire length inside your waiting cunt. You gasped as his hips collided with yours. Touya’s movements stopped to soothe you, as you whimpered and whined underneath him against the stretch of his member. He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, your thighs stretching to allow Touya as close to you as possible. He rested his forehead against yours as he pulled out of you slowly. His right hand came to caress your cheek. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled. “Di’n’t mean t’ scare you.”

You nodded, not quite able to come up with the words to respond. Slowly, methodically, he thrusted into you, his tip kissing your cervix as you let out a soft whine. Dabi let his eyes close as he listened, continuing to move his hips as slowly as possible, worried he might scare you again. “T-Touya,” you stammered. His icy blue eyes opened to find you, staring up at him with as much love as you could muster. Before that moment, Touya hated the person he was supposed to be. With every small reminder, he hated himself a little more for not living up to be that person. But when those syllables came from your lips, he felt loved. He felt wanted. He felt needed. He felt like he was the person he was always meant to be. “N-need more,” you pleaded.

He thrusted in and out of you again, with a little more force and slightly more speed. You let out a loud sigh. Touya’s sobriety was ruined–he got drunk on your moans, your scent, the way your pretty pussy gripped his dick like a vice. “R’lax, pretty girl,” he groaned, nearly through his teeth. “If y’ clamp d’wn on me like that, ‘m gonna cum already.” He slowed, almost to a stop, his cock resting inside you at the hilt, reaching deep inside you. With his left hand, Touya caressed your waist, your hips, anything he could reach. He wanted to be impossibly closer to you. He thrusted into you once again, once he was sure he wasn’t going to bust on the spot.

You did your best to relax, taking long breaths that exhaled in the form of moans and cries. “Oh, you pretty little thing,” Touya groaned, becoming restless. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“‘M yours, Touya,” you moaned in response. “I’m all yours.” The sound of his name–his true name–escaping your lips left him gasping for air.

“Promise?” he asked, looking you in the eyes with the same intensity as before. His thrusting slowed, pulling you away from another orgasm. You sighed, grieving the loss of the previously incoming pleasure. “Promise you’re mine?” At first you thought this was his way of dominating you, like maybe he was going to edge you until he got what he wanted. But when you looked deeper into his diamond eyes, you saw actual fear. Now that you’d said his name, he was terrified. Terrified that he’d lose you. Terrified that, after you, nobody would ever say his name the way you did. Not with pity. Not with disappointment. Not with anger. But with as much love as could be packed into one five-letter-word.

“I promise, Touya,” you whispered. Upon the promise, Touya began to thrust into you with such fury and passion that your body became overwhelmed. Your thoughts were no longer coherent. The only sensation you could feel was Touya entering and leaving your sex as quickly as he possibly could.

Within a minute, he felt your hole pulsing around him. Touya relished the feeling of you. The pressure of your pussy around his cock made him bust unexpectedly. All of the sudden, he was emptying himself into you, the ultimate sign that you were, in fact, his. He continued thrusting, his cock aching from the overstimulation. But he needed you to cum. He was desperate for you to cry out his name again, to be the one to make you feel oh-so-much. He stood up, thrusting into you at a new angle. His thumb swiped over your soaked clit, pulling more pleasure out of you. “Come on, pretty girl,” he groaned. “I wanna feel you cum on me, wanna make you feel s’good.”

Touya’s words washed over you, only adding to the pleasure. You played with your own pebbled nipples, desperate for the orgasm you’d been denied twice now. With every single thrust a moan came tumbling from your tongue. And with a few final thrusts, Touya was emptying himself into you again. The pressure of his cum filling you up made you fall over that final edge into bliss. You cried out, “Touya~!” as your cunt clenched around him with your orgasm.

Touya let out a sigh as you came down from your high. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, his length staying inside of you for a moment. As he slowly slid out, you sighed at the loss of contact. He picked you up and switched spots with you, resting you on his lap one more time. Both of you were out of breath, your bare chests pressed against each other.

Touya’s fingers locked behind your back, his arms tightly wrapped around your waist. The soft fingers on his left hand ghosted over your back, creating goosebumps on your skin. You smiled into his neck. “I love you,” you said. “Do you know that?” You sat up to look at him, your hands resting on his face. “I love you so damn much.”

Touya smiled up at you gently, the sleep beginning to wash over his body. “I love you, too,” he whispered, your forehead resting against his before you pressed a long, loving kiss into his lips. He suddenly stood up, and you let out a gasp as he picked you up. “Let’s get to bed,” he said, carrying you all the way to his bed, the mattress and box spring on the floor. When he finally rested on the mattress next to you, he covered both of you with his blankets and pulled your head to rest on his chest. You pressed feather-light kisses onto his burnt skin every once in a while. “Y’really wanna be w’th me f’rever?” he slurred, his body still processing the alcohol.

You huffed in a small laugh. “As long as you want me to stay,” you answered, never even picking your head up. You draped your arm over him and rested your hand on the opposite side of his waist.

“So,” he said, “forever, then.” It was halfway a smartass joke, halfway a correction.

You laughed again. “Yeah,” you answered. “Forever.”

This work was written by Abigail "Billie" Rothenberger. Please do not copy this work on Tumblr or any other platform.

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amphiptere-art · 1 month

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Can I just point out something again.

How am I supposed to care for the main protagonist in Tsams. When they use the woes of the antagonists for their own entertainment?

I don't care how much better of a person Monty has become. I don't care how much better of a person Moon has become. I get and understand that they have every right and reason to be upset with eclipse and blood moon. They have every right to be angry. But do they have them right to laugh and point out the villain sorrow? Am I supposed to feel happy when they tell me every reason and understanding of why I feel sympathy for the villains as a joke?

This is the epitome of Batman laughing at joker for going insane. There is nothing good about joker being insane. For many villains and hero relationships. None of those heroes laugh at the misery of their villains. They will be angry. They will shout. Hell they might not even feel sympathy for whatever the villain had to go through. I can get that. But most don't play it off as a joke. Most don't go haha, that murderer's brother died. Most don't go haha, You're a little twerp that never should have lived.

Those sentences sure don't feel gratifying or hilarious when said in a void does it? Call me a villain kisser. Call me a moon/Monty hater. Have you wondered why some people would be like that? You can hate the killer but you never laugh at what life brought them there. You can wish for their death but you never celebrate the misery of their lives. You may celebrate their death, But you certainly don't mock about it with an air of jokery to those that are left behind in the aftermath.

There is one thing I get from watching real life crime reviews. People will get angry. People will shoot it in the villain's face. They will celebrate the villain's death with cry's and triumphant yells. But no one looks at their life and giggles. No one flonders their death around family no matter how involved they are. You don't do that. There is usually nothing right with how they were treated, And there certainly is nothing right about packaging someone's death certificate in a present, and handing it over to whoever was closest.

I don't care how sweet or better Monty has gotten. I don't care how different of a person Moon is. I don't care how understanding the soft Sun's anger is. I don't care if puppet is some primal entity who was expecting this from the beginning. I don't care if Lunar's jokes are just an expression of anger. At least he has an excuse. At least it feels like lunar is legit joking out of a fit of anger. Everyone else up there has made plenty of jokes and jabs without some sort of anger to cover it up. Sun maybe. But everyone else? Especially our oh so wonderful Monty?! No! I could get it maybe in the sanctity of his home. In the quiet of his friends. But he literally takes the time to drive these villains out into the light and play with them for a bit.

I feel like I'm being force fed this idea that I'm supposed to be okay with this. Like it's entirely okay to look at a villain's backstory and laugh at it! That I'm not only supposed to celebrate a murderer's death, but also joke about it to their family and friends! Everyone in this goddamn fandom hops and skips around that issue because surely it can't be. Surely I can't look at these wonderful characters I've been voting for for ages, and realize that they're jackasses. But they are promoting the worst behavior I have ever seen. Let's just laugh at the jokes. Let's just jear at the expressions. Let us ignore every possible reason why this is the most fucked up shit.

Because for some reason. As long as they have a reason to hate. They have a reason to joke. And while I might understand it as some sort of self therapy. Talking to the villains about it and even there friends is cruel!

#sams #tsams #the sun and moon show #sun and moon show #tmgafs #mgafs #the monty gator and foxy show #monty gator and foxy show #puppet and Monty podcast #pamp #tlaes #laes #the lunar and earth show #lunar and earth show

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strangermarvelss · 2 years

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prom- e.m

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader

Summary: you ask eddie munson to prom

Warnings: angst bro, unrequited feelings, eddie being a butthead, chrissy is not the villain i promise, not proof read oops

Request: No

Word Count: 2k

A/N: got inspired by this idea @ashwhowrites threw out there about wanting something like this made, so i thought why not give it a shot? plus i've been trying to find an excuse to write an eddie prom fic. enjoy- sava

part two

You look to the stage seated at the end of the cafeteria briefly, seeing the big banner advertising the senior prom, making your heart flutter. The Hawkins High prom was the one time of year where everyone isn’t completely miserable and they all come together, cliques having an unspoken settlement, and allowing one another to come together and celebrate one of the last big moments of high school you’d all share together, before walking the stage made on the football field and going your separate ways on new journeys. Everyone had been buzzing about it for weeks, and you thought today would finally be the day.

You smooth out the pleats in your skirt, taking deep breaths in and out as you slowly approached his lunch table. The loud ruckus of the cafeteria filled your ears as your feet brought you closer and closer to the biggest outcast of the school. Not that you saw him that way, but everyone you surrounded yourself with did.

Eddie Munson has been the object of your affection since his first senior year. His beautiful brown eyes ultimately pulled you in one day during your sophomore year, seeing how much he’d changed from his brief time with you at the middle school amazed you. You were captivated by his passionate personality and his carefree attitude towards the conformity that was forced within the walls of this high school, which you were not able to escape, roped into joining the cheer squad with your best friend and the queen of Hawkins High, Chrissy Cunningham.

The two of you met when you moved to Hawkins back in middle school. She was the first person you met when you got to the school, getting paired to sit next to her for the remainder of the year, and the two of you clicked instantly. You spent so many nights together giggling and gossiping, and it was something you continued to do throughout high school. The two of you told each other everything, especially when it came to your dating lives, or lack there of.

She was the only one who knew about your crush on Eddie. You always felt you had to keep quiet about it, especially around the other cheerleaders and football players. Their clouded judgement and resentment towards the ‘freaks’ made your heart sink, but you always opted to keep your head down and refuse to join in on their reign of terror towards them.

Chrissy convinced you to ask Eddie in the first place. You were hesitant, wanting to continue to keep your feelings towards the resident metalhead deep down, with graduation around the corner for you, and if what Eddie shouted in the cafeteria constantly, it was approaching for him as well. You didn’t see the point in revealing anything now, thinking you could just go about life without him knowing. But Chrissy was there to remind you “what do you have to lose?”

Approaching the well-known Hellfire table, you cough a little to gain the attention of the boys. They all look up at you at the same time, sharing glances with one another as confusion seeped into their faces. You flash them all a timid smile, playing with the end of your cheer skirt to relieve some nerves.

“Hi guys,” you squeak out. You watch Eddie sit at the head of the table, looking down out his bag of mini pretzels and grabbing his bright red apple, taking a big chomp out of it.

“Uh, can we help you?” A younger boy with long black hair asks, whom you recognize as Nancy Wheeler’s brother, Mike. Blood rushes to your cheeks, heat overpowering you just for a minute as they all continue to stare at you with their mouths slightly open.

“Yeah! I was uh-just wondering if I could talk with you, Eddie. Alone?” you ask, your eyes meeting his across the table as he freezes, a small sliver of pretzel hanging out of his mouth. He drops the bag to the table and looks to who you knew as Gareth, standing from his seat with wide eyes. You walk towards the corner of the cafeteria, not missing the snickers and mumbles coming from his friends.

You turn to look at Eddie, his hands resting in the pockets of his leather jacket as he finally catches up to you. His big brown eyes peer up to you, his brows raised in a questionable manner, making the nerves spread further throughout your body. Maybe this was going to be a mistake-

“Just so you know, I don’t do deals in the middle of the cafeteria, so if you’re looking for something to clear your head, you’ll have to go to the spot in the woods,” Eddie lets out.

“What? No, I’m not looking for drugs, I don’t-I don’t smoke,” you tell him, shaking your hands. Did it look like you were trying to buy? Eddie was the local dealer, so it wasn’t totally out of the question.

“Okay…” he responds, rolling his eyes as he snickers to himself. You bite your lip before letting out a deep breath. “Then what did you want?”

“Okay, so, this might sound crazy, but I wanted to know if you were going to prom?” You finally ask. Eddie’s expression falters a little, his questioned look quickly shifting into a surprised one, as if caught off guard.

“Wasn’t really planning on it. After school events that don’t consist of D&D gatherings aren’t exactly my thing,” he answers. You try hiding the hurt in your expression at his answer, his ability to write it off so quickly making your confidence shrink.

“Oh…well, maybe you’d reconsider? Like say if someone were to ask you to go with them, as their date? And hypothetically that someone…being me?”

He takes a moment to just stare at you, blinking rapidly a few times before looking around the cafeteria, making you worried, but also confused. He seemed rather off today, with his eyes barely meeting yours unless met with confusion or surprise now, and his entire demeanor even felt off.

Then, he begins to laugh.

Was he laughing at you? Or the question? Or maybe what everyone said about him was right, he was crazy.

“Yeah well like I said earlier, I don’t do prom. And I definitely don’t do cheerleaders, so associating with both at the same time isn’t in the cards for me. So just go back to your friends, okay?” His voice was almost sinister, face merely inches from yours as he whispers the blatant reject in your ear.

You take a step back from him and catch the seriousness etched across his face, looking to the floor in an attempt to hide the hurt his words caused you to feel. You bump pass him as you continue your efforts of hiding your feelings, walking towards the double doors located closest to you that bled out into the hallway, no longer having an appetite for any food.

All but running to your locker, you fling it open and make yourself small, hunching over into the metal box and covering your face as the tears begin to flow out. You should’ve never taken Chrissy’s advice and kept those feelings buried deep inside. Of course he wouldn’t like someone like you. Even if you didn’t fit in with the other cheerleaders on the squad, he still associated you with the assholes of Hawkins High, and part of you couldn’t blame him. They’ve spent years treating him like shit, and you’ve been too much of a coward to do or say anything in his defense.

What hurt worse was that Eddie and you were on good terms. The two of you shared Miss Click’s class last year, alongside Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley, two of your closest friends. Eddie would ask for your help and the two of you would talk while trying to get him through the assignments he struggled with, which launched your tiny crush into a full blown one-sided love affair. You thought maybe he saw you differently than the rest of the squad, with you and Chrissy always trying to exchange pleasantries and on friendly terms with the metalhead. But deep down, Eddie still knew all jocks were the same, it was clear in the way he spoke to you.

The lunch bell springs to life, pulling you out of your lonely pity party. You look to the mirror you kept in your locker and clean up the makeup that was running down your cheeks with a spare tissue. Taking a deep breath, you grab your books for the remainder of your classes and shut the door to your locker, turning on your heel with you head hung just a bit lower than usual, and darting your way through the crowded halls, onto the rest of the pathetic day.

You push open the doors the led to the parking lot, your peers scattered around trying to escape for the weekend, only to ultimately come back later tonight for the game. Running down the steps, you start the journey towards your car, wanting to relax for the next few hours before you and Chrissy come back for the championship game.

The school day had flown by, the cruel gods above you taking pity on your rejection during your lunch period. You hadn’t talked with Chrissy for the rest of the day, not having any classes with her after lunchtime anyways. You want to run to her so badly and tell her you shouldn’t have listened to her, but ultimately, you just wanted a shoulder to cry on and soothing words thrown your way.

As you walk towards your car at the end of the lot, you spot Eddie leaning up against his van, the flashbacks from earlier telling you to look away from his figure, but your heart and eyes just can’t seem to listen. As you keep going, you see other pair of feet with him, almost between his own. Getting a better look, you see Chrissy leaning against the van as well, her close proximity making your heart plunge deeper into the depths of your stomach.

No, she’d never be interested in Eddie like that. She was in a very serious relationship with Jason Carver, a.k.a the biggest tormentor towards your crush. Plus, she was your best friend, and new how fondly you thought of Eddie, she couldn’t possibly want to ever hurt you like that. Keeping your head down, you attempt to walk pass them, completely unnoticeable, until your ears perk up at their conversation.

“I was just wondering, if you’d want to go to prom with me?” He asks her, causing you to drop the notebook you’d been carrying in your hand. Shit.

You reach down to grab the book and look back to see them staring at you, as if they were deer caught in headlights in the dead of night. You let out a sigh and pick up the pace towards your car, unlocking the door quickly and tossing your things inside as you ignore Chrissy’s calls out for you.

“…I don’t do prom. And I definitely don’t do cheerleaders…” his words rang in your head as you start the engine, looking behind you to back up and pull out of your spot. You quickly glance their way, faces turned into sad expressions as they watch you fly by them, trying your best to exit the hell that was the high school parking lot.

A few tears began escaping once more, trickling down your cheeks as you replay the events of today on your drive home. How could Eddie be so quick to reject you, with the excuse of not liking the idea of prom or associating with cheerleaders, but completely do a 180 and ask Chrissy, the girl who everyone knew you were best friends, to the prom? Maybe when he told you his words in the lunch room, he meant specifically it was you he had no interest in. Because who can resist the queen of Hawkins High.

You continue to wallow throughout the drive home, the tightness in your chest never letting up even as you pull into the driveway of your home. Jumping out, you leave your belongs inside the car as you lock it, running to the front door and swinging it open. You had time before the game tonight to mop about as you please, so you grab a bag of popcorn and put it in the microwave, waiting patiently to start the pity party you pressed pause on at your locker, wanting to just forget silly notion of you going to prom with the man of your dreams.

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