#i'm still losing it over the name jame

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

JAME: Ever since I came out, my dad has been saying, “Are you winning, son?” every time I’m playing a game. 

JAME: It’s slowly evolved into saying, “You winning, son?” and then, “Winning, son?” 

JAME: Yesterday he dropped me off at a friend’s house and just said: 

DAD CROCKER: WIN.

#submission #homestuck #incorrect homestuck quotes #jame crocker #dad crocker #mod terezi #i'm still losing it over the name jame #like my dude i respect the commitment to the four letter name bit but surely we could have foregone that just this once?

[missbunnybunny]

╔═.✧ 🖤 ✧.═══════════╗

▶︎ 𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 

𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊.

╚═══════════.✧ 🖤 ✧.═╝

𝕿𝖜: ☞ 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝙽𝚘𝚗-𝚌𝚘𝚗, 𝙳𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 thoughts, 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢, 𝙱reeding, 𝙼ind break, 𝚁𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖, 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃! «🛑𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸🛑» ☜

Note: This is a y/n x pretty yandere, female-bodied reader.  pet names such as Darlin, Love, and Good Girl, etc. are used.

If I forgot something plz tell me. Like and re-blog, it helps getting these stories to new people!

🫧𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖎𝖓', 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓' ❣️💌💌 part 1

Y/n was startled awake and panicked. Holding the sheets over her naked body, she found herself in an unfamiliar room. 

Silent tears streamed down your face as you began to shake. He tricked you and took advantage of your kindness. 

You mourned your lost innocence for a short time when a knock on the door interrupted you. 

“ I apologize for waking you up, miss Y/n.” a handsome man wearing a suit and carrying a tablet said. 

The scared woman clenched the sheets tightly, “ My name is Ray. Mister Blackwell has asked for you to join him for breakfast.” the man expressed. 

“n-No! I want to go home…let me go!” Y/n cried, face red from crying. “ I'm afraid I can not let you do that.” he shakes his head, “The maids will come and help you dress,” Ray commented before turning and leaving the room.

You cried until your lungs burned and hurt. Until your body could no longer produce tears, the maids shortly came. They helped you bathe and dress in a beautiful gown. They tried to cheer you up, but it was to no avail. 

Soon, Y/n sat next to James at a large binning table. He kissed your cheek and caressed your skin. His touch was sweet and caring if it didn’t disgust you. Food was served, but you didn’t want to eat. You don’t trust that it’s not drugged again.

“ Say ah~ my dear,” he says, pressing a fork to your mouth. When you don’t respond, he squeezes your inner thigh. When your lips parted in a yelp, he fed you. He continued to feed you. If you didn’t open your lips fast enough, he would swirl your sensitive pearl. 

The food was finished, and tears dripped down your soft skin. “ Come on, smile for me, sweetheart,” he asked, cupping your face and whipping your tears. “ I just want to go home.” You tearfully repeated. 

“ We can’t have that, dear. This is your new home.” James informed her as he stole a kiss from her. “ I want to go to my store,” Y/n pleaded. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

“ I already told your employees to take a weeks-long paid break.” James, shut your request down. He wasn’t going to tell you that, but Ray hacked your email and made such arrangements.  

Your face dropped all hope of escaping, where shattered. 

It had been a few days, and James made sure that all doors were locked, and Ray informed you that you could go anywhere. But strongly warned that you couldn’t be outside without supervision. 

James never left your side for your entire time locked in the large mansion. Sleeping, bathing, or even walking, he was there touching any sliver of skin he could. If he couldn’t find you for a moment or have his hands on you, he would lose his shit. 

James knocked on the door to his room, smiling when he found your sleeping figure under the covers. 

He kissed your lips, his tongue intruding your mouth. Lifting the covers from your naked body, his fingers began to caress your sensitive bundle of nerves. He thanked himself for prohibiting you from wearing clothes to bed. 

Your back arched as you woke up with a moan. He knew you were still sensitive from last night. His fingers began to pump into your flower, while his thumb still caressed your clit. Y/n hit his toned chest, but that only fueled his passion even more. 

Your lips parted as he gave you a dreamy sign. “ I have to go into the office, honey,” James spoke, latching his mouth to your chest. Your hand pulled on his hair, making the man moan. 

James curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot, over and over. The tight coil in your stomach made you whine, walls clamping on his fingers. 

With one more firm thrust, the coil in your tummy snapped. Honey gushed over his hand, withdrawing his hand, and licked it clean.

“ I have a meeting today, so unfortunately I won't be with you for a few hours. Be a good girl and behave.” He kissed your sweaty forehead, taking his leave and leaving you tired. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

Y/n walked towards the side door, hoping, begging that she would get lucky. And it seemed that her prayers were answered. The maids forgot to close the door.

Her hand trembled and twisted the doorknob, slowly opening it. The wind blew, signaling she was one step closer to freedom. The door was left ajar as the woman ran to the street, with no phone and no way to contact her family and friends.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, ending up in the station. One she couldn’t enter because she had no money. An old lady exiting the station called out to her, asking if she was okay. 

Y/n said she was, but her eyes betrayed her. The kind old lady offered her help, to which she took it. “ I…I just need help to run away,” she admitted, desperate to leave. She didn’t know when they would have already noticed her absence.

The kind lady smiled and accompanied her to buy a ticket. When she handed the ticket to Y/n, the girl cried, thanking her. 

Y/n gave the lady all the jewelry she had, as a thanks and wanting to part with them in fear of recognition.

The train had arrived, and she left. Free, she was free. 

She planned to return home, take all her valuables, and disappear. She would be sad to close her store, but it was needed. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

James sat in the meeting, bored, his assistant as always trying to get his attention with skimpy clothes. She would never be like Y/n. She was dirt under his goddess's feet. 

Ray came into the meeting room, whispering something into the CEO's ear. James looked like a deer caught in headlights, “ You sure?” he asked, looking at Ray. The man only nodded. 

“ I apologize, but something important has come up.” he expressed, standing up and abruptly ending the meeting.  

“ Ray, get the helicopter. I’m bringing my little darlin’ wife home.” James expressed, loosening his tie. 

The train ride was an hour and a half, so she could get some well-needed rest. But her mind raced, what ifs consumed your every thought.

 “ Ladies and gentlemen, we inform you that the train will have a small delay. We shall be on standby for some time.”  the conductor announced, as the sound of a helicopter could be heard. 

Dread filled your stomach, making it sink. 

“ Miss, please come with us.” a man in a suit said, “ You have the wrong person,” Y/n said, hoping it would work. 

“ My sweetheart, don’t make me punish you. Not in front of everyone here.” James said in a low voice.  His threat made you shake, trembling, hand taking his extended one. 

There was no hope of escaping the lion's den once you had stepped inside.

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

James held Y/n’s hand tightly, making sure she wouldn’t escape as he took her to his room. He thrusts her towards the bed, “ If you love me, you’ll never do that again. Understand?” he warns, removing his tie. 

Y/n backed away until her back hit the headboard. The muscular man graded her leg and pulled her under him. 

She began to beg him to let her go, that she would stay and not run away. He shoves his tie in your pretty plump lips. 

Only allowing for moans and whines to filter through. 

He has you caged in between his meaty arms, his gaze held a lustful and hungry glint to them. 

Tears fell as if rain from your eyes, “ Don’t cry, I’ll make you feel good. I promise.” he kisses your tears.

Your tears felt like acid to his skin. He much rather you cry from pleasure. With his free hand, he removed his belt, tying your hands with them as if they were handcuffs. 

He rose and looked at your posed figure, his legs trapped by your hips, so you couldn’t escape from his embrace. 

He was going to make you feel better, make you see the high heavens. He began to worship your being kissing every scar, stretch mark, and so on. Any imperfection to you was perfection, a divine perfection to him.

Created by a higher being to be held, kissed, bitten, and claimed. 

He hiked your leg over his shoulder as he caressed your skin. Leaving kisses and hickeys over the skin. 

His hungry eyes looked at your teary ones, as he bit your leg.

His gaze lowered to your panties as he stared at them in hate like the small piece of clothing was holding your honey captive. 

The small piece of clothing became shredded into pieces when he ripped them. His rightful treasure was now on full display to him and only him.

 His large hand that once held your hip moved to your sex. With his index and middle finger, he spread your fold, groaning at the glittering sight of your slick.

His painfully hard member twitched upon seeing your dripping, aroused flower.

He groans, “ All this honey just for me?” he cups your cunt, feeling how it clenched around nothing.

Without warning, two larger fingers impale you, thrusting at an unforgiving pace. A long whine spills from your lips as you arch at the feeling.

He's hitting every sweet spot and curve inside you. His bulge grows even more at the sound of your watery juices. 

His thumb connects with your sensitive, neglected pearl, making you squirm and try to close your leg.

He slaps your pussy at the defiance, making electric pleasures shot throughout your body and brain. 

Y/n can feel the coil in her stomach tighten. Her hips met his thrust in chase of her own high. 

James speeds up his movements, watching as your eyes cross when he hits that spot.

Your walls begin to constrict his fingers, telling him that you're close. He bites the meat of your leg, his finger hitting deep inside you. 

Y/n came undone, eyes rolled to the back of her skull, drooling, back arch, and a pornographic moan of pleasure.

Cum covered his veiny fingers and his toned stomach. 

The sight almost made him cum in his pants. But, that milk was saved for his darlin's womb.

James pulled his pants down, allowing his hardened member to slap your sex. Thick and veiny. 

With your cum he gave himself a few pumps. The big man leans forward, his tip kissing your inviting honeyed entrance. 

“ See, you're so wet and sweet for me. You wanted this didn’t you?” he asks, his face flushed. 

His cock began to enter your wet, gummy walls, inch by inch. 

His hips stutter a little, and his body trembles with pleasure. The feeling of your lips sucking him in. 

With one hard thrust, he bottoms out in you. You moan, feeling so full, he begins to hump his manhood against your entrance. 

His almost in a trance, the sound of slick and moans adding to his resolve.

Each furious thrust thrusted her forward in the bed. His tip kissing her womb over and over, you’re moaning and pleas falling on deaf ears.

The makeshift gag swallowed all any sound that was not your monas, the sweet sounds of pleasure he wanted to hear from you. 

Y/n’s leg was still hooked over his shoulder. With his hands, he held her hips in a boa-constricting grip. 

Your overstimulated wall pulsed and twitched, “ Oh, you like that, huh?” he says, still drilling into her like a jackhammer. His hand pressed on the bulge in your small tummy. 

This made your walls tighten and pulse. His words and actions manipulated your dizzy pleasure-filled mind.

“ My pretty darlin’ going to look so beautiful, all swelled up with my child.” he groaned at the thought. Each thrust made your vision sparkle as if stars. 

The all-too-familiar feeling of the tight coil forming in your belly told you that you were close. James's thrust became uncoordinated as he chased that mind-numbing high he was looking for.

“You’ll make a cute mommy.” he moans. He removes your gag, as you beg and cry for him not to, but he crashes his lips against yours. 

He was going to snap you in half with the way he was bending your leg and fucking you at the same time.

The kiss was stymie, adding to the many pleasures you were feeling. Your mind was becoming blank, and you could only think of his dick inside you.

With a final harsh thrust, the coil in your gut snapped like a water gun. squirting over the man's abdomen and your inner thigh. 

James began to convulse, spilling his large fertile load at the feeling of your womb milking him dry. 

You felt so stuffed full and overstimulated. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to become a mommy, a slave to his man's cock. James’s load pulsed inside you, making his cum spill from your spent hole.

You will be the perfect cock-sleeve darlin’ for him, your eyes closed as sleep takes over you. a content smile on your face. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

A new 🕳 to hide in 👩‍🦯

Tag list:

@tremendousdinosaurpizza @violetvase

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

©𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢! 𝙽𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎. - 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢🩻!

#yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #dark content #cw somnophilia #cw noncon #tw noncon #yandere x reader lemon #x reader #yandere oc #yandere smut #original yandere #pretty yandere #noncon touching #female reader #male yandere #💌james #💌yan #like or reblog #tw somno #tw.breeding #mind break #smutty #smut fanfiction #darlingcore #obsessive love #pretty yan #yandere x y/n #roughfuck #tw overstim

[lonelywitchv2]

Strawberries

summary: it’s safe to say you didn’t expect company when you snuck out for a picnic with Regulus, your relationship more forbidden than the forest itself.

content: the marauders basically being your older brothers after you grew up next door to the Potters, protective and angry James and Sirius, Sirius and Regulus still being on bad terms, fluff turned slight angst, short, food, teasing, mentions of Sirius and Regulus’ parents 

wc: 587 (just a little blurb)

part ii part iii

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“So you’ve never read Pride and Prejudice?” You asked, almost offended by your discovery.

“No. Do you happen to remember that my parents are blood supremacists who forbade me from reading muggle literature?” Regulus responded.

“Okay, maybe I forgot. Either way, this is unacceptable. Reggie, it appears we have found our next book to read.” You announced, picking up a strawberry that Regulus had been reaching for.

“Oi! I was gonna grab that one!” He exclaimed, trying to reach for the red fruit, only to have you pull your arm away from him.

“You snooze, you lose,” You said with a shake of your head.

However, right as you went to bite into the sweet berry, Regulus tackled you, his body hovering over yours and your wrists pinned against the picnic blanket laid on the grass.

Throughout being tackled, you somehow managed to continue your hold on the strawberry, refusing to yield to him.

“You could’ve just asked to split it and I would’ve done it, love,” You pointed out, cocking your eyebrow.

“Well, this is much more fun. Isn’t it?” Regulus’s voice dropped to a whisper, his face lowering closer and closer to yours.

“It is…” You breathed out, lifting your head up until Regulus’s lips were pressed against yours, his hair brushing against your forehead.

The blissful silence was broken by a loud shout.

“What the hell is this?!” Sirius yelled, causing the two sixteen-year-olds to quickly break apart, scrambling to opposite sides of the blanket with their eyes wide in horror, the strawberry long forgotten.

You opened your mouth to respond but faltered at the rage burning in Sirius’s eyes.

“What is it Padfo- what in Merlin’s name is going on here?!” James’s eyes fell upon the sight of Regulus and you, his big brother mode immediately activating.

All words of defense and explanation quickly disappeared from your tongue, unsure of how to respond to the obvious rage emitting from the two boys.

“James, Sirius, I... I can explain- we can explain, please-” You stuttered out, struggling to get any words out of your mouth as your panic set in.

“No. No, c’mon Y/N, we’re leaving,” James said, his voice as firm as his grip on your arm as he pulled you off of the blanket, glaring at Regulus and dragging you away from the Black brothers- one of which was frozen in horror, the other seething with rage.

“Y/N-!” Regulus called out, going to stand before falling back from a shove from Sirius.

“What the fuck, Regulus?!” Sirius exclaimed, “Why her? Out of every girl in this school, you chose the one who’s like a little sister to me- is it to get back at me for leaving?”

“It’s not that, Sirius- I…” Regulus faltered.

“What? Spit it out!”

"Listen, I... I really like Y/N- really like her. Please, I'm not doing this out of vengeance, Sirius. I wouldn't even think about hurting Y/N! Siri… I’m not lying to you, I swear," Regulus stuttered out, the childhood nickname accidentally slipping off his tongue, "It's... real and I've never experienced anything like it before.”

“Godric… I just don’t…” Sirius paused, chewing on his lip, “I can’t do this right now.”

Sirius turned around for a moment, but turned to face his brother once more, “We aren’t done, Regulus. But this? This is.”

Regulus sat there speechless as his brother jogged to catch up to James and you, looking down to see the red strawberry sitting on the blanket, miraculously untouched.

#regulus black x reader #regulus x reader #marauders x reader #marauders #harry potter #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #sirius black x platonic!reader #james potter x platonic!reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #marauders fanfiction #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #sister!reader #hogwarts #love you #~°~ miranda ~°~

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part Nine

Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader

Summary: You spend the weekend looking after Miguel after his encounter with the Green Goblin.

Word Count: 22,193 (I saw the word count at 16K on Friday and my face was literally the second photo on this post after I remembered saying in the last update that the remaining chapters wouldn't exceed that part's word count. I'm sorry if this hard to read because of the length, by the way. I thought of splitting it and doing two parts (9A & 9B) but... I'm just going with this.)

Warnings: Mention of dry blood; Mention of wounds; Mention of syringe; Bland hospital food; Miguel is a bit grumpy at times but who can blame him?; This chapter really shows how I'd look after Miguel if he was hurt, my simpness for Miguel jumped out a lot in this one

Music inspo while writing:

"First Date" - Bill Conti

"Near Town" - The Amazing Broken Man

"Feels Like We Only Go Backwards" - Imaginary Future (cover)

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

"Mia & Sebastian's Theme (Celeste)" - Justin Hurwitz

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten |

Part Nine

Miguel whispers your name, and it takes everything in you to hold back tears as relief washes over you. Your heart races but in a different way than it did hours ago when you were desperately trying to find him. It’s now racing from happiness that he’s awake.

“Miguel,” you whisper with a gentle smile, standing next to him.

Miguel’s eyes flutter close for a few seconds before he opens them again, his gaze meeting yours.

“Calling…” he mumbles. “Me.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but you nod regardless. “It’s okay, Miguel. You’re doing good. You’ll recover soon, I promise,” you tell him gently. “Are you cold?” you ask, as you look down at the blanket you placed on him earlier after he was declared in stable condition again.

You feel a shiver run down your back as you hear the medical professionals’ voices in your head, repeating that they were losing Miguel. You close your eyes tightly for a few seconds and will those thoughts away. You can’t take it. You open them again and look at Miguel.

“Are you cold?” you ask again, pulling the blanket higher up his body.

“Stay…” he mumbles, closing his eyes again.

You stare at him, heart aching. You swallow the knot in your throat.

“I’ll – I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” you whisper, gently fixing the blanket to cover him. “I’ll stay.”

Miguel nods slowly and in a few seconds he’s asleep again. Tears roll down your face for the third time in only a few hours. You softly wipe them away with the back of your suited hand. You take a step back and release another shaky breath, feeling the knot in your throat grow. You turn away from him, pressing your hand to your mouth as you stare at the wall.

Ever since you woke up, you’ve felt every imaginable emotion in the span of a few hours. You feel emotionally tired, but don’t dare rest, especially after what happened. After losing him.

You take a deep breath as tears flow freely down your face, but you find it difficult to do so for a few seconds. It’s as if you’ve been holding back this entire time and you just can’t hold back the tears anymore, causing you to feel like you’re unable to even breathe. And of course, it’s a familiar feeling. One you’ve only ever felt with Peter’s death. You furiously wipe away your tears, but they keep falling, blurring your vision.

You finally turn back to Miguel, still crying. His relaxed sleeping face brings you comfort, helping you breathe normally again. You sigh deeply as you take a closer step and watch over him again, tears still flowing. You feel the urge to touch him, almost as if to make sure he really is there and it’s not just your imagination playing tricks. You tentatively lay a hand over his arm, layers of fabric preventing skin to skin contact but it still brings you comfort and peace.

Miguel is here and alive. His chest rises and falls softly. His heart rate is displayed on the heart monitor. You can hear his soft breathing. And you can feel his body’s warmth, which comforts you, as you remember how cold his skin felt even through your suit when you found him on that rooftop.

Miguel is alive.

You keep repeating this in your head as you stand next to him, your hand still over his arm. It seems to help you calm down and your tears slow down until they eventually cease, leaving your face feeling puffy and damp but you could care less right now. All you care about is that Miguel is alive.

That your friend is alive.

You stand near the bed for a while. You don’t know how much time goes by. The nurses come in and check on Miguel occasionally, finding you near the bed each time like a guardian. All the while, Miguel sleeps peacefully. He shifts ever so gently but he’s not restless anymore. You eventually take a seat on your chair again, feeling exhausted but unable to take even a fifteen-minute nap. You feel as though you must guard every second. Just in case. You do cover your body with a blanket one of the nurses brought you earlier, warming yourself up as the room is cold. You also fix a pillow they gave you to support your back and then you sit there and watch over Miguel.

You don’t even find it in yourself to use the tablet Ben Reilly brought you earlier. It lies abandoned on the table in the family area of the room. You simply sit there, watching over Miguel and occasionally looking towards the windows. The sky is grey and gloomy, but brighter now. The rain is still there, making you wonder if it’ll stick around all day. The pit pat of rain against the windows is heard through the room along with the heart monitor’s quiet beeping but your ears focus on one thing only and that’s Miguel’s even and gentle breathing.

As you listen to it, while gazing at him, your mind reminds you of the fact that for a few minutes, his breathing ceased. You see his unmoving chest in your mind suddenly; his body was completely still. He was gone. And for the second time in your life, you felt so helpless as you stood there, repeating “No” inside your mind. You remember saying his name, calling out to him. You wanted to take hold of him and beg him not to give up. Not now. You thought of his family, and though you fleetingly thought you had no right to, you prayed that if they were out there somewhere, that they’d tell him to come back because… you couldn’t bear the thought of him dying. You couldn’t bear the thought that this man, with so much life still ahead of him, could really be gone just like that. And then it happened. The medical team resuscitated him. His chest began to move, and the heart monitor started to display his heartbeat again. He was alive. He didn’t give up.  

And it felt like you yourself could finally breath again as you thanked his late wife, Gabriel, and sweet Gabriella, for you don’t know what you would’ve done if… you can’t even think about it. What would life be like without Miguel? It’s about to be a year since you joined the Spider Society and so much has changed since then. You never guessed Miguel would be a constant in your life the first time you met him. He was so serious and distant. His mind was far away as he gave you a simple and cold welcome before he walked off, carrying the weight of the multiverse on top of an array of emotions on his shoulders that you could’ve never imagined he was dealing with.

You shake your head softly, almost in disbelief. It’s amazing how much can happen in one year. You went from knowing very little about Miguel to now knowing about his brother and mother, about his short time with Gabriella and his wife, to sharing cake on Peter’s birthday and eating conchas and candy on Dia de los Muertos to designing Christmas ornaments and welcoming the new year at his penthouse.

And it all started that day you felt so unwell due to your period. You find yourself wondering if any of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for that day. And the possibility that none of it would’ve happened makes you thankful for that day, even if you were in pain and discomfort because it led to something you never imagined.

Though you still have no idea how Miguel feels about your interactions, you consider him a close friend. You chat with him and Lyla when you organize the lab. You talk before the meetings start over coffee. You’ve gone on more missions with him than some of the members who joined before you have. You take him lunch sometimes when you head to the lab to organize it, and he happily accepts the empanadas, which you’ve learned are definitely a favorite of his. After the holidays, you’ve made him smile more and even earned yourself low chuckles, both a nonexistent sight and sound for everyone else.

And yet, neither of you have said it yet; that you’re friends. So, it’s up in the air between the two of you for now but you’re okay with it. You know it’ll be a while before Miguel admits it if he thinks of you as a friend, too. And you’ll hold back from saying it for as long as you can for his sake.

You sigh deeply and try to clear your thoughts before you check the time. It’s now past 8 A.M.. When you returned home from Peter and Mary Jane’s universe, you never expected the night to take such a turn. It seems unbelievable.

You went to sleep peacefully, under your warm bed sheets in the same bed you shared with Peter. You were tired and sleepy, and found sleep easily only to be awakened by your spider senses, alerting you something was wrong.

As you stare at Miguel’s face, this simple fact hangs over you. Your spider senses went off because of him despite being in completely different universes. You bring a hand to your temple, wondering how that’s even possible, but you don’t have much time to think about it as the room’s door opens. You turn around and find Jess and Peter. You get up quickly, pushing the blanket off you and turn to face them.

With everything that happened and your emotions a wreck, you never notified them about Miguel’s heart failing but when you look at them, you see it on their faces. There’s pain in their expressions as they scan your face, which shows signs of crying and exhaustion, and their expressions soften.

“Oh Y/N…”  Peter whispers softly, before he quickly approaches, pulling you in for a hug.

You let him hold you in his arms and hug him back. You close your eyes for a few seconds, feeling overwhelmed but reassured at the same time now that they’re here.

“The medical team told us what happened,” Jess begins as she watches Peter and you embrace each other.

Peter lets go gently, though he wraps an arm around your shoulders, making you feel comforted. You give him a sad smile. Peter was the second person you were introduced to when you were first recruited, Miguel being the first one. And once you were accepted, you were introduced to Peter, who immediately presented you to his group of friends and well, the rest is history now. There are times in which it feels like Peter looks over you as some kind of parent because of the age gap. And it’s exactly how he’s looking at you right now after learning what you went through on your own.

“Y/N… I’m so sorry you were here alone,” Jess says gently. “I never thought…”

For once, the second in command of the Spider Society seems at a loss for words. You nod slowly.

“I don’t think any of us expected that… He was in stable condition already,” you answer softly as your eyes return to Miguel. “It just happened out of nowhere…” you add trailing off, briefly taken back to those minutes.

Jess nods and brings a hand to her temple, feeling an ache after the long night. The news of Miguel briefly passing away only added to it, but she feels a sense of relief as she joins you and Peter in watching Miguel sleep peacefully. Miguel is alive. 

You feel Jess’s hand on your forearm, making you turn. She gives you a pained smile.

“I wish someone else would’ve been here with you. I know it must’ve been – hard,” she says solemnly, knowing about Peter’s death and what a toll it’s taken on you in so many ways from leaving you with no family or friends. She feels a pang in her chest for you, for she never imagined you’d see death again today.

You give her a reassuring smile. “I wish so, too, but all that matters now is that Miguel is in stable condition. He’s been sleeping peacefully,” you say as you take a step closer, motioning for them to join you, tugging Peter along with you as his arm is still around your shoulders. “He woke up a little while ago, it was just for a few seconds before he fell asleep again though,” you share but don’t mention that Miguel asked you to stay.

The three of you watch Miguel sleep quietly for a few minutes. It’s a strange sight to see Miguel O’Hara’s face so peaceful and though no one says it, none of you can help but feel heartbroken that it took this to see it.

Jess clears her throat, nodding and feeling relieved that Miguel is well now. All that is left is recovering from his injuries. She stares at him for a few seconds, feeling a little in disbelief now. She’s always warned him about heading out on missions alone at night, but she never thought something like this would happen. She’s just glad that… you found him. That fact comes back to her mind. The last hours have been spent figuring out how to get the system back in order and then directing members to find the anomalies that Miguel was dealing with, but it comes back to her at this moment when things seem to have settled a bit. She wanted to ask earlier when Miguel was first transported but she knew it wasn’t the time to ask.

She turns to you now, seeing that you’re still in your suit. Your hair is a bit of a mess after the search and the rain when you took your mask off to shield Miguel’s face from it, another gesture Jess noticed on top of you giving him your gizmo. Jess decides to put her curiosity aside. For now.

“You should go home. Change clothes or shower,” Jess says, making you turn.

“Thank you but – ” you start, and she raises a hand.

“Please,” your mentor says softly. “Peter and I’ll stay here while you go. Get a bag ready with clothes and toiletries for the next two days or so. Miguel has some recovery to do, and I trust you to do your duties as my third in command,” she continues. “Which includes sticking around with him while Peter and I lead the Spider Society in his place. If there’s one thing I know about Miguel, it’s that he’s stubborn and he’ll try to wave this whole thing over despite what happened. I think we all agree he’ll need to take it easy, and I trust you’ll help me with that.”

You stare at Jess and finally nod. “Yes, okay… I’ll be back shortly then.”

She nods. “We’ll let you know if something changes.”

You reluctantly leave the room but not before you take one last glance at Miguel.

“Stay…” he said earlier, and you promised you would.

You hurry and leave the infirmary sector, wanting to be back as soon as possible. In about twenty minutes, you shower and dress in normal clothes before you prepare a small travel bag with everything you think you might need. As you’re heading back to the infirmary sector, you notice there are a lot of members at HQ today despite it being Saturday and members having the weekends off, unless there’s some kind of emergency. However, the Spider Society’s HQ is buzzing like it’s Monday, and you connect it to what happened.

You’re surprised once again when you enter the infirmary sector. There are now a lot of balloons, flowers, cards, and baskets with snacks in the waiting area. When you approach the items, a nurse informs you that members have been dropping them off for Miguel. You smile softly as you look at everything, deciding that once you check on Miguel and talk to Jess, you’ll take everything to his room.

When you enter the room, you find Jess and Peter murmuring by the windows. Their conversation immediately ceases before they turn around to face you. You notice there’s now a table next to them with food and cups of coffee. You turn back to them. Peter gives you a nervous smile, making you feel like you were the topic of discussion. You ignore it and walk further into the room, gently placing your travel bag on one of the chairs in the family area of the room, your eyes already on Miguel. He's still asleep.

“How is he?” you ask, walking closer to the bed.

“No change. He’s been sleeping the entire time,” Peter says stepping closer to the bed now, leaving Jess by the windows.

“I had someone bring breakfast,” she says. “I think we all need some food.”

“And coffee,” Peter adds with a sigh, making you turn to see him.

You notice for the first time that your friends also look tired. It really has been a long night for everyone. You yourself feel exhausted now. It’s like your shower made every ache in your body known and as you look at the food, you feel hunger, too. 

The three of you take a seat at the table, everyone reaching for a cup of coffee first before anything else. You eat breakfast, stealing glances at Miguel often. It’s like you’re still trying to make sure he’s there and that nothing’s going wrong. Breakfast is silent as the three of you look out the windows, deep in thought.

It's about twenty minutes later that you finish eating. Peter excuses himself to check on Mary Jane and Mayday, stating he’ll be back shortly. He leaves but not before giving you a reassuring smile on his way out, leaving you and Jess alone. The two of you stand by the windows, looking out at the city. You take a glance at Miguel. He hasn’t shifted in his sleep at all, and he looks peaceful.  

Jess stands next to you, arms crossed over her chest, thinking. She doesn’t fail to notice your glances at Miguel, much like those during breakfast. And of course, there’s one pending question on her mind. After a few minutes of silence, she finally speaks up.

“How did you know?” she asks quietly, still staring out the windows.

Your gaze lands on a nearby skyscraper as you hear her question. You know exactly what she’s talking about and even though you wish you could pretend you have no idea what she’s referring to, you know neither of you have the time nor energy to play this game.

After a minute or so of silence, you sigh deeply. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly, causing Jess to look at you slowly.

She watches you as you stare out the windows, and she can tell from your expression and tone of voice that you genuinely have no idea. You sigh again.

“I don’t know how I knew… I was awakened by my spider senses,” you begin and tell her everything that happened up until she joined the search.

Her gaze is on distant cars as she hears you explain everything, occasionally nodding softly. It makes no sense.

“You also knew where to find him,” she says after you’re done. “I would’ve never thought Miguel would be there, considering we knew he was injured,” she adds, thinking about how you seemed certain about his location, not to mention the way you reached the building. It was as if your life itself depended on it.

Your gaze is still fixed on the skyscraper as she brings up this fact. “On the first mission I joined you guys, we went there – to get a layout of the city since it was my first time visiting that universe. It seemed that he liked the view. I guess, amid everything, I thought he would like to see it again,” you quietly murmur.

Jess nods, thinking. Your spider senses alarmed you that something was wrong, and it was Miguel, who was in another universe, in trouble. She knows it’s possible, she just doesn’t know how. She remembers the events from a year ago when Miles ended up stranded in that same universe, and Gwen realized it thanks to her spider senses, too. Now the two are a thing. Of course, Jess isn’t thinking that you and Miguel have a thing going on, but it does signify something to Jess.

You and Miguel have a connection, and it’s strong enough that you were able to sense his trouble even across the multiverse.

“It’s unexplainable but it might have just saved Miguel’s life,” she says eventually after a few seconds of silence, deciding to keep her thoughts about your connection to Miguel to herself. Instead, she changes the conversation to the anomalies Miguel was pursuing. They’ve been caught and sent back to their respective universes. She also notifies you that other members will be taking shifts patrolling your universe while you’re here with Miguel.

Jess sticks around for a little while longer before she heads out to attend to her duties. Once she heads out, you take the time to bring everything left in the waiting room for Miguel into the room, placing it in the family area so that he’ll see it once he wakes up. The hours go by slowly, and you eventually grab the tablet Ben Reilly brought you earlier. You reach out to your friends, who have been asking about you and Miguel’s status. You even reach out to Jess eventually, asking if you can help with anything else but she declines, and so you stay put. You watch over Miguel, fixing his blanket when he moves to make sure he doesn’t get cold.

It's until later in the afternoon that he begins to stir once again. You’re standing by the windows when you notice and quickly cross the short distance between the windows and the bed, standing by his side immediately. Miguel’s eyebrows furrow as he moves his head against the pillows gently. He hums softly as his eyes slowly flutter, and you’re unable to stop yourself from finding him endearing and tender in this moment.

His eyes open at last and he looks around the room slowly, trying to place his surroundings until his gaze lands on you. You offer him a small smile as he blinks a few times at you.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Y/N…” he says trailing off, closing his eyes for a second before opening them again.

“How do you feel?” you ask, studying his face for any signs of trouble but Miguel looks in good condition.

“I feel a little dizzy,” he responds, blinking again a few times.

“It’s probably the meds. They’ll wear off soon – let me get the doctor, alright?”

Miguel nods before you use the call button. The doctor and a nurse shortly arrive, checking Miguel’s vitals. Everything looks well and as the minutes roll by, Miguel seems more and more awake. The professionals head out after explaining to Miguel what happened, including his heart stopping, and the extent of his injuries.

Miguel lays on the bed silently, staring down at his lap as he thinks about what the doctor told him. You stand a few feet away from the bed, giving him some time to process what they said. You can’t tell what he’s thinking or how he feels as his face is neutral but, on the inside, Miguel feels a little overwhelmed at the news that he was dead for several minutes. The dream he had, which now makes him wonder if it really was a dream after all, is also on his mind. He looks down at his hands, remembering how it felt to hold Gabi. How she forgave him and told him she would always view him as her dad.

Miguel sighs softly, closing his eyes. He can feel what it felt like to hold them again. He can see all their faces and remember their words about moving forward and having a second chance. And as he recalls their words, he also remembers how they kept telling him someone was calling him. He opens his eyes slowly and looks up at you, finding you in the same spot. Ever since the doctor arrived, you’ve been keeping your distance from the bed, as if you’re afraid that you’ll hurt him by being so close. He swallows softly.

“She’s calling you,” Gabi said.

“You know who,” Gabriel said with a small smile. “You know exactly who.”

You.

It’s you.

Miguel clears his throat softly, finding even that action slightly uncomfortable to do right now. He turns his gaze away from you, feeling heat on his face at the realization. Were you really calling him when he was dying – or rather when he died? Was his dream not a dream but – Miguel can’t even think about it now. He can’t wrap his head around it. Is it possible? Miguel has always been a man of science but as he thinks about it, he has no explanation for it.

You notice Miguel turn away, and for some reason it makes you wonder if he doesn’t want you around. You clear your own throat softly, ignoring the feeling of rejection growing in your chest, and put on a neutral face.

“Jess and Peter are taking care of things, which reminds me… They asked me to let them know as soon as you woke up. Do you feel well enough to see them?” you ask softly, fingers on your gizmo ready to send the message.

Miguel’s gaze turns back to you. He hasn’t even thought about the Spider Society until now that you’ve mentioned Jess and Peter. He thinks about it for a few seconds. He’s still thinking about his dream – he’s just going to call it that from now on – and he doesn’t feel ready to be asked questions or get lectured by Jess after her countless warnings about going solo on missions at night. He shakes his head at last.

“In an hour, please,” he says, and you nod, dropping your arms at your sides.

“Of course.” You feel a breeze from the AC turning on again. You nod at him, noticing the blanket on his lap. “Are you cold?”

Miguel continues to hold your gaze, realizing that yes, his arms are cold. He starts to move but you quickly walk to him.

“Remember what the doctor said,” you remind him as you now stand next to him. “She said to avoid too much movement for now until tomorrow, or even Monday. I’ll help you. Do you want me to cover you to your chest?” you ask, picking up the blanket gently.

“Right,” Miguel replies remembering the doctor’s instructions. “Yes, please.”

You nod and take a hold of the blanket, lifting it.

Miguel feels your warmth as you stand near him. It seeps into the side of his body, spreading a pleasant sensation that leaves the rest of his body yearning for it. On top of that, he’s unable to stop himself from inhaling your scent as you lean closer to lift the blanket further up. The moment is brief. You’re there at his side one second and gone the next, suddenly standing three feet away from the bed but your scent lingers, filling his nostrils. He feels the loss of your warmth almost immediately. The remaining warmness fades away and it makes Miguel wish there was another excuse to bring you closer, which fills him with great shame even if it's only human nature to seek such a comfort, especially in his vulnerable state.

Not to mention that everything about you is comforting. It always is. Your voice. Your warmth. Your scent. Your laugh. Your movements. Your mere presence and existence.

“Is that good?” you ask, ready to adjust it to his liking, oblivious to Miguel’s thoughts.

Miguel nods. “Yes, thank you.”

Mierda, he thinks as he shifts his head slightly. A few months ago, on Dia de los Muertos, he wanted you to push his boundaries. He hoped you’d ask him questions about his life, about Gabriella and the rest of his family and now he’s wishing you push his boundaries regarding physical touch. Miguel dismisses it as part of the medications’ aftereffects. It has messed up with his thought process enough that he’s wanting physical touch, surely.

He tries to distract himself by looking out the windows. It’s still raining.

“Has it stopped raining at all?”

You shake your head. “No. It hasn’t stopped at all.”

Miguel nods, still staring and listening to it, trying to get himself distracted until whatever it is he’s on fades and he can be back to his normal senses. It takes him a few seconds to remember you’re still standing nearby, while he’s there, lying in bed. He turns his head, wondering if you’ll be leaving now that he’s awake. He silently hopes you don’t.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” he asks gently, his red eyes meeting yours.

And the way it sounds, well, it tugs at your heartstrings. There’s a softness to his tone that makes you realize your impression from earlier was wrong, and that you jumped to conclusions. Miguel doesn’t want you to leave but there’s also a part of him that isn’t used to this level of vulnerability.

For all the moments and time you’ve spent together over the last year, neither of you’ve been in such a vulnerable state regarding health. Sure, there was that day you were unwell due to your period, but it wasn’t to this level, and it wasn’t him. Additionally, Miguel is already apprehensive about being vulnerable with emotional wounds, so you can only imagine how hard it must be for him to be seen with physical ones. And yet, the way he asks if you have somewhere to be makes it sound like he hopes you’ll stay. You remember how he asked you earlier to do so, while the medications were probably at their peak before he fell asleep. He may not even remember it now, or ever, but you won’t forget it, much like every moment you’ve shared with him. You smile softly.

“I’m where I’m supposed to be,” you answer and then realize how it may sound. You clear your throat, thinking you really should take a nap at some point today. You tell yourself to be more careful with your words right now. You don’t want to upset Miguel or make him uncomfortable when this situation is probably already too much for him. “Jess assigned me to be here. I’m to be – kind of like your bodyguard – until you fully recover,” you tell him, and the bodyguard part makes him smile a little.

“My own bodyguard, eh?” he says, still smiling faintly, feeling relieved that you’ll be around even if he doesn’t voice it. And though he showed no reaction to your comment about being where you’re supposed to be, a warmness spreads in his chest.  

You smile when you notice his small smile, delighted to see it as always, no matter how faint it is. You nod to the family area of the room.

“You have a lot of gifts from members wishing you a speedy recovery. Would you like to see it?”

Miguel turns slightly. He noticed the balloons earlier, but he was feeling too overwhelmed to even wonder about them. Feeling much calmer now, he nods with that faint smile still on his face. You feel happiness rush through you at his response and nod before you walk over to the items. There are about fifteen balloons and even more flowers and cards along with baskets full of snacks. You collect some of the flowers and cards in them before you take them to him.

Miguel can’t help but feel surprised at the number of items left. If he’s being honest, he didn’t expect to receive so much due to his attitude and behavior in the past, especially the events related to Miles.

“I’ll hold the flowers and cards for you to read, that way you don’t move too much, and you can keep your arms under the blanket,” you say now standing next to him.

You place some of the individual cards next to him on the bed before you show him some of the flowers, gently pulling out a card and holding it for him to read. You do this multiple times with the cards from the flowers. Miguel reads them silently, nodding once he’s done. You go through all the flowers and finally start on the individual cards. You notice there are a few handmade ones from members who opted to apply their artistic skills, like Miles, whose card you show Miguel next.

The only thing you see is the front in which Miles took the liberty of drawing Miguel in his suit. You smile fondly at it, admiring Miles’s art as always. You’ve always loved the pieces Miles has shown you and you’re also very happy that he’s decided to pursue art school again. You watch as Miguel reads the card’s message, his eyebrows furrow softly as his eyes move across the card. Up to this point Miguel has nodded and smiled faintly with each card but you notice Miles’s incites this different reaction. He swallows softly and finally nods, turning away to look out the windows in thought.

You can’t help and wonder what Miles wrote, for whatever the message is seems to have struck something in Miguel as he continues to look out the windows. You close it carefully and put it in the stack of read cards, still thinking as you grab another one to show him but he’s still staring out the windows.

“Do you want to take a break? I can show you the rest later.”

Miguel blinks and turns around to face you. He shakes his head gently.

“No, it’s okay. I’d like to see the rest.”

You nod and show him the next one. Miguel’s mood is slightly different now. He smiles faintly here and there, and there’s no doubt in your mind that Miles’s card is still in his mind. You finally reach the last one and you know immediately who it belongs to. You smile as you show it to him. It has Peter and Mary Jane’s handwriting but Mayday’s artistic skills all over the cover. Miguel stares at it and smiles again.

“Mayday,” he says softly before you open it and let him read the message.

He nods once he’s done, that faint smile still on his face as you put it away with the rest. You carefully pick them up to avoid any damage, fixing them into a neat stack again.

“You also have some baskets with snacks,” you say as you now collect the smaller cards from the flowers. “Would you like me to show them to you?”

Miguel shakes his head. “No, it’s alright. There’s no need for you to carry them here. Thank you though – and thank you for showing me the cards and flowers.”

You nod. “Of course, no problem,” you say as you look him over. “Are you warmer now? I have this blanket as well, if you’re still cold,” you say remembering the blanket the nurses gave you earlier.

“I’m much warmer now, thank you. No need for the other blanket.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“If you need something, please tell me, okay? I’m here to help you,” you say after a few seconds.

Miguel takes a few seconds to nod, feeling a mix of emotions. He feels guilty that you’re stuck here having to look after him because Jess asked you but he also feels relieved that you’re here. Still holding the cards in your hand, you decide to move them to the table in the family area.

“You must be tired,” he comments, wondering if you’ve even slept as his eyes follow you.

“I’m not,” you respond gently as you place the cards down on the table.

“If you want to go home and rest, you should,” he says as he looks down.

You sigh softly, knowing where this is going. You turn around to face him, finding him looking down at his body, covered in the blanket you placed over him. He looks up, as if sensing your gaze on him.

“I’m not only here because Jess asked me to,” you start, standing still. You briefly think about how only a few hours ago you were just thinking about how neither of you’ve said what you’re about to admit to him. You didn’t realize you’d be saying it today. “I’m here because I want to – because you’re my friend and this is what friends do,” you continue, keeping your tone as casual as possible as you hold each other’s gazes, though your tone is full of sincerity. “And you don’t have to feel the same way or say anything right now. Just – just know I’m here for you,” you continue softly, repeating the same words you told him for the first time on Dia de los Muertos night, when he apologized for keeping you up and taking you away from chores. You wanted to say more that night, like how you didn’t mind stopping what you were doing to join him because you wanted to spend more time with him. Except you couldn’t say more that night. It was still too soon, and maybe it still is for Miguel but a part of you wants him to know. That you’d be here regardless of Jess asking you because you wish to be here if he allows it. “It’s not an inconvenience to me, if that’s what you’re thinking. So, please – please let me stick around,” you add much quietly as you hold his gaze. Heat rises to your face, and you feel like wincing at your own words because you understand the gravity of them. You’ve never asked anything of him but here you are now, asking him to let you stay with him. To let you look over him, cover his cold body, keep him company as he recovers, and do much more if he lets you help him because all you want is for Miguel to be well again but you also know that this isn’t easy for him and that you’re asking for something that he might not be comfortable with. Your heart races as you wait for his response.

Miguel holds your gaze, noticing the wincing at your own words but he knows you well enough to know it’s not from regret. No, Miguel knows that you’re always so understanding, so respectful of his boundaries, never pushing or asking and that’s what made you wince; that you’re asking for something from him. Your words and reaction sink in. And Miguel wishes he could reciprocate your words about considering him a friend out loud, but he cannot, not yet even though you are his friend. He can’t risk it, so he nods softly.

“I’d appreciate it – if you did. Thank you,” he replies with sincerity at last, with a small smile.

You smile back, once again happy to see him smile. You don’t mind that he doesn’t say more because with the smile and tone he used, you feel certain he feels the same way even if he can’t voice it right now. You know Miguel has a long way to go in fully letting go. Maybe one day in the future, you think, but for now, him letting you stay while he recovers, is more than enough.

“After you meet with Jess and Peter, would you like to eat?” you ask as you walk to the chair. “You must be hungry. I believe you’re clear to eat now.”

As if on cue, Miguel’s stomach growls and he looks at you with an embarrassed look. For once, it’s his stomach and not yours. You try not to smile and clear your throat quietly.

“I’ll ask the nurse if you can eat while you talk with Jess and Peter, alright?”

He nods, meeting your eyes. “That sounds good, thank you.”

You reach out to Jess and Peter once Miguel tells you he’s ready. You wait for them to arrive before you head out quickly to confirm with the nurse that he can eat now and thankfully he’s cleared. You head back to the room once they tell you they’ll take him food, walking in just as you hear Peter ask how everything happened and so, the three of you listen intently to Miguel as he explains. You can’t help but feel fury as he mentions the Green Goblin twisting his trident into Miguel just before the explosion went off, on top of the fact that he targeted the gizmo once he figured out it was important. You sigh quietly, wishing he hadn’t gone on his own. The conversation shifts to Jess, who briefs Miguel about several things like the system failure and how it’s working again thanks to the work of Margo and other members. He sits on the bed and nods.

“I’ll be thanking them personally but for now – please give them my gratitude,” he says softly. “Everyone – has really stepped up, including the three of you. Thank you,” Miguel adds looking at all of you. “I appreciate it.”

Jess nods and offers Miguel a smile. Peter grins at him.

“Any time, pal. That’s what we’re here for, right? We stick up for each other,” Peter says and Jess nods.

“Peter’s right. We stick up for each other and we’ll make sure everything runs smoothly until you’re fully recovered,” Jess says. “All you need to worry about right now is recovering.”

Peter steps closer to you and quietly mutters, “You heard that, right? Jess agreed with me for once.”

You stifle a chuckle and gently elbow him to be quiet.

“What are you going on about, Peter?” Jess asks with a frown.

“Nothing at all. Just telling my friend that the rest of our friend group has been wondering about her, that’s all,” Peter replies raising his hands in defense and discreetly elbowing you to back him up now.

You nod but say nothing, making Jess shake her head. “Alright you two, if you say so. Well – there’s much we need to do. The system failure messed up some files. Lyla and I are organizing it, so I’ll return to that now. Please listen to the doctor’s instructions, Miguel,” Jess says sternly, and Miguel raises an eyebrow briefly but nods.

“And Y/N’s instructions, too,” Peter adds with a grin. “She’s like your – personal bodyguard.”

You subtly elbow Peter again and he gives you a puzzled look.

“Anyway, we’ll keep you updated. Rest and take the time to recover properly. If you need anything let Y/N know. We all want you to recover and be back on your feet,” Jess says.

Peter and you nod at that, thinking about what you would give to avoid this situation completely.

“Thank you. I’ll do that… Do keep me updated on what’s going on. There are meetings scheduled for this week and the weekly reports are not done yet - ” Miguel starts but Jess stops him, raising a hand.

“We’re taking care of everything. You worry about recovering.”

Miguel frowns but Jess doesn’t back down. “Fine but I want to be updated on what’s happening though.”

Jess nods, satisfied with his answer. “Will do, boss.”

With that Jess and Peter say their goodbyes, promising to return at some point again today to check in. Miguel and you watch them leave even though you want to ask Jess something, but you decide to send her a message later instead. You want to ask her if you can help with the reports as it’s something you can probably work on while Miguel rests, but you figure you should keep quiet about it, or Miguel might try and help you and the last thing any of you want is for him to work while he’s recovering. The two of you say goodbye to them before you turn around to face him.

Miguel still has a slight frown on his face. The commander of the Spider Society is not used to being told what to do. You try not to smile at this.

“One of the nurses said you’re clear to eat. They’ll be bringing in food any time now,” you inform him as you step closer to your chair, picking up your blanket to fold it just as

Miguel groans softly. “What’s wrong?” you ask, putting the blanket down immediately.

“Hospital food.”

You chuckle. “I bet it’s not bad like the typical hospital food.”

“Hospital food is still hospital food.”

“I bet it’s better than my universe’s hospital food.”

Miguel raises an eyebrow at this, looking amused. “Perhaps but it’s still hospital food.”

You grin just as there’s a knock. A nurse comes in with a tray of food, immediately setting it up for him. The nurse asks Miguel if he needs assistance with eating and surprisingly, or perhaps not too surprisingly, he looks at you, not wanting to be fed by a stranger.

“Thank you but I’ll be helping him,” you inform them, and they nod.

Miguel thanks them before they leave the room, leaving the two of you alone again. He frowns as he looks down at the closed containers and you can’t help but find this amusing. You head to the bathroom to wash your hands before you return to his side. You grab a napkin and open it.

“I’m going to put this on your chest just in case something falls,” you tell him, and he nods but he doesn’t look enthusiastic about eating as you place the napkin on him. “Come on, you don’t even know what they brought yet.”

“I can smell it, and it doesn’t smell too good.”

You shake your head softly as you open the containers, putting the lids to the side as you reveal each food item. You stare at the main food. There’s steamed vegetables, chicken, and rice but it all looks a little… bland.

“Hmm.”

“I told you,” Miguel says grumpily.

You don’t say anything and instead pick up a small tub of gelatin that appears to be strawberry flavored. It looks like the most appetizing thing in the whole tray along with the two drinks they provided, apple juice and water.

“You don’t want to give this a try at all?” you ask softly, motioning to the food.

Miguel sighs, frowning. “I guess I have to.”

You grab the cutlery and offer him a steamed carrot slice. Miguel hesitantly opens his mouth, keeping his gaze on the tray, embarrassed. He can’t believe he’s being fed like a child as he softly bites down on the carrot. He chews, trying not to make a face.

“Not that bad, right?” you ask, and he looks up at you.

“Why don’t you try it, and you tell me?” he says grumpily, almost pouting.

You meet his eyes and hold back from laughing. You clear your throat, ready to ask him if he wants to try the rice or chicken now.

“No, I’m being serious. Try it.”

You sigh. “Why don’t you try the rice or the chicken now? We can drop the veggies then.”

Miguel sighs now. “If even the vegetables aren’t good, I have little hope for the rice and chicken… I’m not joking. That carrot wasn’t good.”

“It can’t be that bad. It’s just a steamed carrot.”

“Try it then.”

You continue to meet his gaze and he motions with his head for you to go on. You scoff softly and pick up a carrot with the fork before you slide it off to avoid eating from the same fork. You bring it to your mouth and frown as the scent hits your nose.

“Even the scent is off putting, right?” Miguel asks.

You nod before you chew and wow, Miguel is right. You grab a napkin and spit it out quietly.

“I don’t know how you ate that,” you say quietly. “You want some water to wash down the taste?” you offer, and Miguel nods trying not to chuckle at your response.

You grab the water bottle and notice straws were provided so you open one and slide it into the water bottle once you open it, too. You bring it to Miguel’s mouth, lining up the straw to his mouth so he can easily access it. He drinks for a few seconds before he releases the straw.

“I didn’t realize I was so thirsty” he says before he drinks more. You hold the bottle steady and watch as he nearly finishes it.

“I can get you another one. It’s been many hours since you drank something,” you mutter quietly. You look at the food. He hasn’t eaten anything in hours either and this food is unappetizing. You look at the gelatin. That’s the only appealing food item on the tray but his appetite won’t be satisfied with that alone.

Miguel leans back, releasing the straw again. The water bottle is empty now and he sighs in relief.

“Thank you.”

You nod and put the bottle away, thinking. “Would you be okay if I step out for – five or ten minutes?” you ask.

Miguel raises his eyebrow softly. “Is something wrong?” he asks just as his eyes flicker to your gizmo.

“Nothing wrong, don’t worry. I was just thinking – I can go to the cafeteria and grab you something from there instead. I can bring you empanadas if I can find some?” you suggest and you’re immediately happy you suggested this.

Miguel’s face changes. His eyes lit up and he nods immediately but then he frowns.

“The cafeteria staff showed up today? They have weekends off. They should’ve enjoyed their day off… And it’s not allowed to bring cafeteria food into the infirmary,” he says, and you scoff in amusement.

“They came in because a lot of members showed up to help. And I won’t get caught. Besides, what’s the worst thing the infirmary team can do? Tell the boss on me?” you ask as you start closing the containers.

Miguel watches you as you do this, with a small grin.

“If anything, I think he’d agree that this food is – a crime,” you say and Miguel chuckles before he groans.

“Mierda, that hurt,” he says closing his eyes in pain and you see his hands move under the blanket to his stomach.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you chuckle,” you say as you move the food tray away from him.

“It’s alright,” Miguel mutters with a sigh, opening his eyes again. “It’s fading away now. That son of a – he really got me with the trident.”

“I’m so sorry, is the pain subsiding now?” you ask worried, and he nods.

“It’s fading now, don’t worry,” he says softly, and you nod.

“I’ll go get you food once your pain subsides completely,” you reply, wanting to make sure you’re in the room until he’s completely okay.

After five minutes, Miguel nods. “I’m alright. The pain is gone,” he reassures you.

You sigh softly and nod. “Okay, I’ll be right back. I won’t take long, okay?”

Miguel nods and with one last look, you head out. You walk to the cafeteria quickly, noticing more gifts left for Miguel but you don’t pause to look. Once at the cafeteria, you put together some food boxes, making sure to secure Miguel’s empanadas first before anything else. You fix yourself a box so you can eat since you haven’t had anything after breakfast. Jess offered to take you something for lunch, but you weren’t hungry, so you declined but you realize you’re hungry now. You end up using your webs to secure the boxes together as you remember Miguel saying that it isn’t allowed to bring outside food into the infirmary. You also grab a few water bottles and cutlery, tying everything with more web and swinging the items over your shoulder. You’re about to head back, thinking how you’ll have to sneak into the infirmary sector with the food when you see the coffee station. You decide to grab some as well and when you reach the station you’re met with a lovely surprise.

There’s always only one coffee cup size but today there’s two. It’s double the size, or maybe even larger, than the regular cup. You can’t help yourself and end up ordering two of those. You haven’t slept in a while and you probably shouldn’t have this much caffeine, but you want to stay awake until nighttime as you suspect Miguel might not sleep until then. You pick up the cups and head back, having to sneak past the nurses’ office by sticking to the walls. Thankfully the coffee cups weren’t a problem.

You enter the room at last and find Miguel, still in bed of course, but the TV is now on. As you walk closer, you notice the containers are gone. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion just as Miguel turns around. 

“Peter and Jess came by. Peter took the food with him,” Miguel explains, noticing your confusion.

“I hope he hid them as he walked by,” you say as you set the boxes with food and coffee cups on the tray. “Anyway, I got you empanadas and some sides, along with fruit. I also got coffee. There are new cups,” you announce and motion to the cups, larger than the usual ones.

“You managed to get two?” Miguel asks, his tone full of surprise.

“Yes, why?”

Miguel scoffs softly. “I can never get my hands on these even though they’re meant for me.”

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen them.”

“Everyone opts to get these instead of the other ones. I have these bought because…” Miguel trails off, meeting your eyes. “Not only do I like coffee, but I also need more caffeine to actually feel the effect. The regular size cups aren’t enough sometimes, but I can never find these when I show up,” he says with a slight frown.

You frown. “Oh - I never realized you might need more caffeine, but it makes sense now that you say it,” you reply as you look at him, realizing that Miguel is a tall man and very built, so of course he’d need more than someone within the average height and weight.

 “All this time I should’ve been taking you two cups instead of one then,” you say, and Miguel shakes his head softly.

“Don’t worry about it. It does help me,” he reassures you.

“I’ll see if I can find these for you from now on,” you answer as you fix the napkin on his chest before you tell him you’re going to wash your hands again. When you return to his side, you open the boxes of food you brought specifically for him, showing him the empanadas and everything else before you get the cutlery ready. However, when you look at the empanadas, you realize this is a food that’s usually eaten by hand not with cutlery. You look up at Miguel, feeling silly to ask but you do regardless.

“Do you want me to cut these up for you or…?” you ask.

Miguel looks down at the empanadas.

“I can wrap the end in a napkin and hold it for you?” you offer and Miguel nods slowly. “Okay, I’ll do that then.”

You feel a little nervous. It’s not like you’ve never fed someone in the mouth before with your hand. It’s just that you’ve only ever done this with Peter… or used to. As you carefully pick up the empanada with a napkin and wrap it, you recall those days with Peter. He always liked to share his food with you, wanting you to try what he was having, and this always resulted in getting fed bits and pieces from him. You always reciprocated and found this to be an intimate act as you never did it with anyone else but here you are, lifting an empanada to Miguel’s mouth, who still looks embarrassed by this. You clear your throat softly, trying to dissipate the nervousness between the two of you over this simple and yet intimate act.

“They don’t feel burning hot so I think they should be at a good temperature to eat without burning your mouth,” you say, and he nods.

You watch as he reluctantly opens his mouth and takes a bite. His face quickly displays a pleased look and you’re unable to stop yourself from grinning at the different reaction from earlier.

“Not too hot?” you ask.

Miguel finishes eating, smiling faintly. “No, it’s perfect temperature. Thank you.”

You nod and bring the empanada closer to his mouth again. “If you want a drink, let me know. Or if you want to try the other food. It smells and looks good.”

As Miguel chews you notice a bit of a smirk on his face at your comment. You smile a bit before you look away and pick up one of the coffee cups, bringing it to your lips with your free hand. It seems that the nervousness between the two of you is subsiding now. You look up at the TV, an action movie is on. You turn back to Miguel and offer the empanada again. Each time, you’re careful no mess is left behind as you don’t want him to get food on himself but eventually you notice a bit of food in the corner of his mouth, so you put the second empanada down and pick a clean napkin. You motion to his mouth.

“You have a bit – in the corner of your mouth, here,” you say before you gently wipe his mouth.

Miguel’s eyes are on the food tray, and you don’t fail to notice a slight tint to his cheeks. You keep a neutral face as you clean him, despite wanting to smile as you find the action endearing but for his sake, you say nothing once you’re done.

“So, what exactly is this movie about?” you ask instead, deciding that maybe this’ll help calm him. You can only imagine how this is making Miguel feel, someone who isn’t used to such vulnerability even with you.

“To be honest, I don’t know. Peter turned the TV on, and it was already playing. I’ve never heard of it but then again… I haven’t kept up with movies in a long time,” Miguel admits before he takes another bite of the empanada as you offered it again.

You nod. “I understand, I haven’t either.”

Miguel nods as he eats, for some reason remembering that on Peter’s birthday you claimed you’d be going to the movies with friends from your universe. Except that was just a lie to hide your true plans and there weren’t friends involved either way. He remembers waking up the next day and thinking about how no one showed up. You planned to spend the evening alone and he couldn’t help but wonder. Sure, Jess briefed him on you before she brought you to HQ. She mentioned that you were completely on your own, with no family or friends but he thought there had to be someone, even if they weren’t too close to you but Jess had been right. No one called or arrived on Peter’s birthday. You were really alone in your universe, and he couldn’t understand why. He had wondered, did they abandon you when you needed someone the most or did you cut ties on your own? He just couldn’t and still can’t wrap his head around the fact that you spent three years completely on your own. He can’t help but feel that you deserved better. He can’t help but wish that he had found your universe sooner, so you could’ve had the Spider Society as a support system earlier.

And maybe, just maybe you could’ve been a part of his life sooner, too. Miguel clears his throat as this thought comes to his mind.

“May I please have some water?”

You nod and place the remainder of the second empanada down before you open the water bottle, slipping a straw into it before you bring it to his lips. You can’t help but notice the difference on his face as he drinks. His face is still missing its full natural color, but he has thankfully gained some of it.  

Miguel eats all the empanadas and sides, along with the fruit. He also drinks two water bottles and asks for some coffee. When you notice that he seems to be rushing so you can start eating soon, you tell him not to worry, and to take his time. He slightly frowns but nods after you talk to him, his mind still whirling with thoughts. When he’s done, you eat as the two of you continue to watch the movie, not really understanding what’s going on but it has caught both of your attention regardless. At some point you remember you have the tablet Ben Reilly brought you many hours ago, so you grab it and look up the movie.

“This is actually the third installment.”

Miguel turns to you. “That explains a lot.”

You chuckle after you take a sip of your coffee, done eating. “It does.”

You resume watching the movie. It’s about five o’clock in the afternoon. The slow and peaceful rain is still going. The room has a somewhat comforting energy about it with the few lights on as Miguel and you watch the movie. His eyes flicker to you though his glances go unnoticed by you, as your eyes are on the TV. He has an idea suddenly and when he’s about to speak, he remembers he doesn’t have a gizmo. That prompts him to remember that you gave him yours when you… found him. He clears his throat as the memories come to him quickly.

He was out of it, his body felt weak and cold when he heard your voice. It sounded so far away until it became clear. He felt your touch when you cupped his face in your small hand. He remembers saying that you were there, and you thought he referred to everyone. In reality, he referred to you alone, for you were the last person he thought about before he felt his consciousness slip for the first time. Even in his state, he felt like he had somehow called for you across the multiverse because you were there suddenly, kneeled by his side, telling him that he would go home. Then, you slipped your gizmo into his wrist, not caring if you glitched and he wanted to tell you so badly to take it back because he now knew what it was like, and he didn’t want you to experience it, too. He didn’t get the chance to warn you though and you didn’t care. You didn’t care that you would glitch just to protect him from glitching again.

And Miguel’s chest fills with a heavy feeling now. His eyes soften as he looks at you, still watching TV, engrossed in this movie that neither of you understand. He smiles softly at you, his friend, even if he can’t say it out loud. Yet.

“I think we should watch the other movies,” Miguel says breaking the silence, and making you turn to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“The other movies?”

“We have nothing else to do… Why not?” he asks quietly.

You nod, smiling. You haven’t messaged Jess about potentially helping with the reports but you decide to leave it like that for now. You decide to take the opportunity to distract Miguel with the movies, seeing as he’s showing interest in them instead of trying to jump right back into work. Your reaction makes Miguel nod and so he executes the idea he had a few minutes ago. He calls for Lyla.

“Miguel! It’s so good to see you – you look – better,” Lyla says enthusiastically.

“Thanks, Lyla. I need you to do something for me,” Miguel says.

“You’re not allowed to work right now. Y/N, tell him he’s not allowed to work right now. He’ll listen to you.”

Miguel frowns and you watch in amusement. “I know. It’s something else.”

“Oh, then what is it?” Lyla asks with a raised eyebrow, intrigued.

Miguel asks her to buy all the movies available before he asks her to stream the first one on the TV.

“Hmm, this was the last thing I thought you’d ask me to do,” Lyla says with her arms crossed over her chest as Miguel and you start watching the first movie, looking puzzled. “Alright, you two, enjoy the movies! And Miguel, don’t push yourself. Take proper time to heal. It’s the order – from everyone,” Lyla says softly, looking at him with worried eyes.

Miguel faces her, knowing that this is the first time something like this has happened to him and despite being an AI and her attitude, he can tell she was worried. He nods at her. “I’ll be back soon. Make sure you do your job without driving the members crazy.”

She gives Miguel a grin. “It’s part of my personality, can’t help it but I’ll do my job, boss. I might pop by later when the other members are gone. Enjoy the movies!”

She gives him a peace sign and says her goodbye to the two of you before she disappears. The two of you watch the movies for the rest of the afternoon, pausing when the medical team comes in to check on Miguel, and yes, you hid the food boxes amongst Miguel’s flowers and balloons, masking the scent by bringing some flowers to the nightstand next to the bed so they wouldn’t find out until you got rid of the evidence.

A little after ten o’clock, Miguel yawns softly just as the second movie ends. You stand up and stretch, before walking over to him.

“How are you doing? Do you want a drink or maybe use the restroom before bed?” you ask, wanting to make sure he’s comfortable.

Miguel sighs softly, moving a bit. “I really wish I could get up and stretch,” he says. “I’d also like to brush my teeth.”

You nod, thinking. “I can solve the teeth situation but – I’m not sure I can help you get up without hurting you. Let me call the nurses, okay?”

“Let’s try it. Just – you and me. Please,” he says gently, and you can’t refuse with that soft tone of his, so you nod.

“Alright… but slowly. I don’t want to hurt you. Let me get the toothbrush and toothpaste first though,” you say as you go to your small traveling bag. In your hurry to return fast, you opted to throw a new pack of toothbrushes you had and your toothpaste when you were packing. Now you’re glad because you can give one to Miguel. You quickly take both items to the bathroom before you return to him.

The two of you work together to get him to stand up, and you succeed after what feels like fifteen minutes because you wanted to avoid hurting him. At last, however, he holds on to you with his arm wrapped around your waist at your request when you noticed his balance is a little off. Your own arm is around his waist, careful to avoid touching any of his stomach area. You remain like that for a few minutes, letting Miguel get used to being on his feet again. You ask him if he’s okay or if he needs to sit down again but he declines, telling you to give him a few more seconds. Eventually he nods.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

You silently hope this all goes well as you help him take a few steps. Thankfully the action doesn’t hurt Miguel nearly as much as you thought it would since neither of you are rushing. The two of you walk a bit in the area between the bed and the family area, with Miguel taking short steps. You wish you thought of bringing him slippers as you look down at his feet, noticing that he’s wearing standard hospital socks, but you decide you’ll ask for another pair so you can change them out once he’s back in bed. You also decide tomorrow you or someone else will need to go to his apartment to collect some items as he’ll still be here tomorrow.

At last, Miguel stands in front of the sink. He sees himself in the mirror and his reflection makes him pause. He’s never looked this bad and then he remembers, once again, that he died. The possibility that he wouldn’t even be staring at himself right now hits Miguel suddenly. He clears his thoughts and turns his head to you.

“You ready?” you ask softly, looking up at him.

“Yes. I think I can do it on my own,” he replies, and you nod hesitantly before giving him the toothbrush with some toothpaste on it.

He starts lifting his arm, but the movement makes him wince.

“I can help you,” you say quietly and after a few seconds Miguel sighs.

“You already fed me and now you’re going to brush my teeth,” he says but he doesn’t sound angry, he’s just embarrassed.

“And I’ll do more than that if necessary. If you allow me. I just – don’t want you to get hurt,” you say softly. “I know… This can feel embarrassing,” you continue as you take the toothbrush from his hand, guiding his arm down gently to avoid any more discomfort.

At your height, you can’t reach his mouth, so you climb up the counter, resting on your heels, facing him. You grab a towel from a stack and put it over his chest, tucking it gently into the hospital gown’s neckline to avoid getting it dirty. You lean closer and motion for him to open his mouth. He sighs and then follows your order. You start brushing his teeth gently, focusing on the task as you continue to talk.

“I know it can feel embarrassing. I used to feel like that when I got hurt and went home to Peter,” you start. “He took care of my wounds. Helped me shower and dress. Got me in bed and still had the energy to hold me,” you say quietly, your tone full of fondness as you remember Peter once again. “I felt embarrassed even with my partner so I can imagine what this must feel like when I’m just, you know,” you say as you continue to brush his teeth, carefully. All the while, Miguel’s eyes take in the sight of you this close, listening to your quiet voice as you lean closer, even ducking your head to get a good view of his mouth. He blinks when he hears your last words, knowing what you’re saying. That it’s normal for him to feel embarrassed when it’s you, his friend, doing this for him. “But I hope – you allow me to continue to help you so you can recover faster. I don’t like seeing you like this,” you say with a frown, which he notices, as you finish brushing one side of his mouth. You wipe the corner of his mouth softly with the towel. “So, please… if you need help with something, don’t hesitate to ask because of embarrassment. I’m here to help you,” you say as you start brushing the other side of his mouth.

He nods softly after a few seconds while you finish brushing his teeth. At last, you’re done, and you smile at him, drying his mouth from the water.

“Done,” you say as you rinse the toothbrush before you place it on a toothbrush holder for tomorrow. “Anything else you’d like to do before you get back in bed?”

Miguel meets your eyes, thinking about what he’s about to ask.

“Do you mind – passing a towel over my face?” Miguel asks. “My face feels weird.”

You nod, remembering. “I have these reusable cotton face pads. They’re much softer on the skin than a towel. Let me get them real quick,” you say and with that you slide off the counter and exit the bathroom. Miguel stands there, surprised at your offer but he doesn’t have much time to think anything else because you enter the bathroom again holding some round cotton pads. He watches as you climb up the counter again before you open the hot water and pass the pads under it. You squeeze the excess and turn to him at last. “Alright, you ready?”

Miguel nods again. “Yes, thank you.”

You nod, realizing some of his hair is over his forehead. You feel a bit nervous as you think about what you’re about to ask him. “Do you mind if I hold your hair up?”

“Go ahead,” Miguel answers softly, answering almost immediately, which surprises you a bit.

He doesn’t seem to mind, so you nod and carefully reach for his hair. You lift it lightly before you glide the lukewarm cotton pad over his forehead with a tenderness that makes Miguel hold his breath for a few seconds. You wipe his forehead, then his eyebrows. Your movements remain tender, making Miguel feel like he’s some delicate glass object that’s worthy of your gentleness as you glide the pad down the bridge to the tip and sides of his nose. You change pads and ask him to close his eyes before you glide it over his eyelids, moving to the rest of the eye area.

Your face remains neutral as you clean his face though your eyes take in every detail. From the flecks in his red eyes to his eyebrows to the lines on his forehead and under eyes. And when you reach the bottom half of his face your eyes trace his cheeks, jawline, chin, and finally his lips, wiping them softly to make sure you remove any toothpaste excess.

The entire process makes Miguel’s face feel warm, not because of the warmness of the pads but because of the closeness of this moment. No one has ever done this to him. And yet, you seem so unbothered by it. Like this is normal. You grab another pad, damping it with warm water again and repeating the process much faster this time. You let go of his hair and move back.

“Done,” you say softly as you put down the pads on the counter, telling yourself you’ll pick them up later to take home and wash. Miguel watches your movement and for the first time, he notices it. There are light scratches on your hand, and he instantly knows they came from his talons. “Are you ready to head back? Or do you need to use the bathroom?” you ask Miguel, not noticing.

“Your hand,” Miguel says still looking at it. “I scratched you?” he asks, meeting your eyes, sounding extremely bothered by this.

You look down in surprise, remembering that he scratched you a bit when you were trying to calm him down as he grew restless. It was hard not to forget about them, as shortly after that his heart gave out.

“Oh, yes but don’t worry about it. It didn’t hurt that much. I honestly forgot about them,” you admit, making Miguel frown.

“I’m really sorry. I don’t remember – when I did that. Not only must I’ve hurt you but probably ripped your suit in the process as well,” Miguel says, sounding regretful.

You shake your head. “It hardly hurt, really. I even forgot I had these,” you say nodding to the scratches. “And about the suit, I didn’t notice any rips on it this morning and even if there are, I’m sure I can fix it. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“I can have it fixed for you here. Or you can have a new one,” Miguel offers. “Same design, maybe with some updates if you’d like… But you should get the scratches checked just in case. I’m really sorry that I did this to you,” Miguel says quietly, and he truly does feel bad. He doesn’t even remember doing it.

You smile gently at him and nod. “If it comes to that, sure but we can worry about that later. And don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt. They were very light scratches, nothing to worry about. I promise,” you reassure him. “So, ready to head back?”

Miguel is upset with himself over scratching you, but he sees that you want to drop it, so he lets it go, too. For now. He’ll make sure you have a new suit because he’s certain he ripped yours. There’s no way he didn’t and even though he doesn’t know the exact reason, he knows you’re very attached to your suit. He sighs silently and answers your question at last.

“I need to use the bathroom, but I got it, thank you,” he says gently, thinking the last thing either of you need is for you to help him use the bathroom, too.

“Of course, I’ll be outside if you need me. Please take your time so you don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

He nods, grateful to you for everything but still feeling bad about scratching you, before you head out of the bathroom, closing the door after you.

You check your gizmo to distract yourself, noticing several messages from your friends asking about Miguel and his status, and if either of you need anything so they can drop it off. You smile fondly as you read the thread of messages before responding quickly to them, letting them know that Miguel has been doing well and that you’ll let them know if either of you need anything. You finish sending the last message just as you hear the toilet flush and then the water running. Miguel comes out about a minute later. He seems to be able to walk a lot better on his own now but he’s still moving slow to prevent any pain.

You offer to help him and this time he puts his arm around your shoulders, leaning just a bit on you. You successfully get him back in bed, finding the process much easier than getting him out of it. You tell him about changing his socks since he walked on the infirmary floor, but he says he’s fine without them, so you just remove them for him before you cover him again for the night. You bring the blanket close to his chest and fix his pillow to his preference. At last, he lays on the bed feeling much better.

“Thank you for everything,” Miguel says as he watches you fix your chair to sleep, wishing you’d go home so you can properly rest or for there to be something far more comfortable than the fold out chair, but he can already hear you turning down his suggestions.

You fix your pillow before you turn around to face him, giving him a small smile. “Always,” you say softly. “I’m going to use the bathroom. Just call me if you need anything, okay?”

He nods and watches as you pick up your travel bag before you head into the bathroom, closing the door quietly after yourself. Miguel turns away and looks up at the ceiling, remembering. Last night around this time he was in the lab, feeling restless but still working, not even imagining what was going to happen in a matter of hours. He sighs softly now, repositioning his head to get comfortable. He feels tired and he knows he'll fall asleep soon, but he wants to make sure you’re comfortable, too, or at least as much as possible.

You come out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing different clothes but not pajamas, though they look far more comfortable than what you were wearing earlier.

“The AC turns on a lot during the night. Do you want me to lift the blanket higher up, so you don’t get cold?”

Miguel meets your eyes and answers yes, his mind now shifting to how caring you’ve been all day, even sneaking food for him. He has a lot to thank you for, and he feels as though nothing he says or offers to you will ever be able to fully express his gratitude. You fix the blanket and even tuck it in a bit for him before you step back, giving him space.

“Is that comfortable?” you ask, and Miguel nods.

“It is. Thank you.”

You nod, smiling at him softly before you turn around and take a seat on the chair, covering your lower body with a blanket.

“You’re not sleeping yet?” he asks, noticing that you haven’t folded out the chair.

“I’m not sleepy yet.”

And you really don’t, probably due to the large cup of coffee you drank but you know at some point during the night you will as it’s close to twenty-four hours since you slept. Miguel nods though he frowns.

“Try to rest,” he says quietly.

“I will. Don’t worry about me. Rest,” you answer as you pull the blanket higher up your body, thinking.

Miguel nods again, closing his eyes, unable to fight sleep anymore. He ends up falling asleep about fifteen minutes later, his soft and even breathing filling your ears as you sit on the fold out chair. You watch his sleeping figure, the sight providing you calmness as you think about the day. Miguel woke up, talked, ate, and even chuckled at your comment about the infirmary food being a crime. You smile softly, staring at him. He’s okay. He just has to recover and soon he’ll be back in his lab, working like normal, a sight you never thought you’d wish for until now.

You stay awake for an hour more, watching over Miguel, before sleep consumes you.

Miguel wakes up about two hours later. He opens his eyes and looks around, his gaze stopping on you as he takes your sleeping figure. He blinks a few times, still staring at you. Somehow you manage to make sleeping on the fold out chair look comfortable. The blanket is up to your chest, and you hold the pillow vertically to your body, with your head resting on it and your arms wrapped around it. It looks as if you were laying on someone’s chest while hugging them. And Miguel can’t keep his eyes off you as your soft breathing fills his ears, feeling glad that you’re sleeping at last because he doesn’t know how long you’ve been awake for.

He tries to sleep again but it seems that sleep has deserted him and instead he finds himself thinking about everything as he watches over you now. He was able to avoid thinking about a lot of things throughout the day but now, there’s no escape from his thoughts. You’re not awake, there’s no Jess or Peter, or TV to provide relief from the thoughts that have been on his mind since he woke up. And there are so, so many.

First, there’s the fact that Miguel briefly passed away. It isn’t that he thinks he’s invisible. He has experienced too many losses in his life to know that no one is invisible, no matter how strong, how kind, or how innocent someone may be. Death doesn’t care about those things. He’s also not fearful of dying. It’s never been about the actual act itself. It’s always been other factors. Like how a few months ago he was afraid of the aftermath. About whether anyone would care or even show up to his funeral because of the way he carried himself; distant and detached.

Then, on Peter’s birthday, you led him to lose that fear. Now he feels overwhelmed for another reason. It’s the realization that he feels regret. If he was to look back at his life up until the moment his heart stopped, Miguel realizes he wouldn’t look back with satisfaction when it came to his decisions and way of living. No, he would’ve looked back and seen himself experience loss after loss, heartache after heartache. He’d see himself giving up and turning away anyone who tried to get close, leading to his lonely life with a few lapses of time in which he was happy before he’d lose everything again. His short death has made him realize that he doesn’t want to look back at his life, when he’s older or when he’s gone for good, with disappointment and regret.

There’s also the thoughts about his dream or vision, or whatever the hell that was. Miguel moves his fingers under the blanket, extending his arms out the sides of the blanket so he can look at them. He successfully does this without hurting himself and when he finally sees his fingers, he closes his hands, remembering how it felt to hold Gabriella again. How it felt to hug his brother and wife. The dream comes to him quickly, playing through his mind. A part of him wants it to be real, while another part of him feels that it was real. How could it be otherwise when it felt so real? When it made sense? His family’s words echo through his mind again. Everything they said. They want him to move forward. To take this second chance. To stop his current way of living. Miguel also thinks of the guilt he has carried for so long and because a part of him believes his dream was a real but short reunion with them, he feels relieved. Like a weight has been taken off his shoulders, especially after his variant, his wife, and Gabriella forgave him for his actions.

Another thought plaguing Miguel’s mind is Miles’s card. He tried to act normal afterward but he’s sure you noticed the change of mood in him. He began to read it, expecting well wishes for a speedy recovery or something of the sort, and yes, that was part of it but not all of it. For some reason, Miles felt that it was necessary to talk about Miguel’s actions when it came to their “disagreement,” as Miles lightly put it, even though Miguel wouldn’t dare dream of wording it like that after how he behaved. No, Miguel accepts that his actions and words were disgusting and even though everyone has moved on, he continues to feel shame and regret for everything.

For hunting down Miles across the multiverse, for trying to stop him from saving Mr. Morales, the same man who sent him food for the holidays because for some reason he and Mrs. Morales still have it in their hearts to be forgiving and feel concerned for him, despite knowing that Miguel literally asked their son to accept Mr. Morales’s death as a canon event, not to mention the way he treated Miles. Yet, Miles and his family, and everyone else it seems, have moved on – something Miles made clear in his card. With the way Miles acts around him these days, Miguel kind of knew this already though, for Miles continues to call him “tío” sometimes, a title Miguel hasn’t felt worthy of. On top of that, Miles went on and apologized to him, something else Miguel doesn’t feel worthy of and yet, the young superhero apologized, claiming that he had disregarded Miguel’s fear back then, and that even though his theory wasn’t perfect, Miguel was basing it from what he knew back then, from his own experience. All in all, Miguel hadn’t expected such contents in the card but then again, what could he expect from someone who continuously surprised him. So, there’s Miles’s words, lingering in Miguel’s mind.

Then there’s you. You were the one to say it first, to claim him as your friend. And hell, Miguel wishes he could’ve said it back; that you’re his friend. The one that never asks for anything and has remained the same throughout all these months. Always kind, caring, and understanding. Miguel sighs, wishing. Wishing he could say it, and yet he can’t because he’s afraid. Everyone Miguel has ever cared about is gone, and the losses in his life have led to a fear. A fear that the moment he admits out loud that you’re his friend, too, that you’ll disappear; that something will happen to you and Miguel cannot take another loss. He cannot risk it even when a part of his brain tells him he's being irrational.

Miguel’s thoughts are starting to feel more like reasons. Like excuses. Like signs.

Miguel feels like he’s going backwards. For the longest time, Miguel has believed that the best way to “move forward” was accepting loneliness, the lack of friends and family, and that his life’s purpose is his job – his duty. He also believed he put behind certain hardships in his life like his childhood and how his stepfather treated him, not realizing the truth behind it until he discovered that the man he grew up fearful of, was never his father to begin with but rather the man he worked for as an adult. Or how his mother always placed Gabriel on a pedestal, her words cutting through him each time she told Miguel he would never be anything like him. He never resented Gabriel, but he couldn’t say the same for his mother even after they resolved their issues years later. There are so many wounds in Miguel’s heart and while he believes that he has moved on, or put them behind him, the reality is that all his wounds are still there; open and raw.

But Miguel kept going, thinking the next loss or heartache couldn’t possibly be worse than the last one. It was. Each time. It just reinforced his belief that he was meant for this lonely life.

Now, there’s so many signs, so many reasons… Everything around him, all his thoughts, every part of him telling him to go ahead and get his hopes up again. To let himself go back to a younger version of himself that longed for so much.

For a family. For friendships.

His family told him to try and move forward. His variant told him to seize the opportunity, to find another purpose other than work. Basically, to not let the hardships of his life dictate the rest of it. Then there’s Miles’s card, forgiving him for the way he acted towards him. And finally, you’re here. Sleeping on a fold out chair that he can never imagine sleeping comfortably on, hours later after telling him that he’s your friend. Looking after him in ways he’s never been looked after, treating him like he’s worthy of your friendship. Like he’s deserving of this second chance and being able to call you his friend. So many signs.

Miguel sighs quietly. It feels like he’s going backwards, and there’s nothing he can do about it. And maybe, he doesn’t want to do anything about it, Miguel realizes as he continues to watch you sleep.

He lays in bed, watching you and thinking when his thoughts are interrupted.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Miguel turns to Lyla. “Can’t sleep.”

“So, you’re just watching Y/N instead…?”

“I’m not – what are you doing here?” Miguel asks frowning, talking quietly to avoid disturbing your sleep.

“Oh, don’t even try to deny it. You’ve been watching her for like – the last half hour. It’s weird, please stop,” Lyla says crossing her arms over her chest, frowning back at Miguel.

“I wasn’t… I was thinking.”

“Sureee, if that’s going to help you sleep, then go ahead.”

Miguel’s frown deepens but he says nothing else, his eyes returning to you, and once again, he wonders how you look so comfortable in that damn chair. Lyla joins him in staring at you and Miguel notices.

“Now who’s staring?” he asks.

“Oh, I’m just ‘thinking,’ boss,” Lyla says with a smirk, causing Miguel to roll his eyes. “But in all seriousness, I’m glad she’s finally sleeping. She’s been awake since three in the morning when she realized something was wrong.”

That peels Miguel’s attention from you to Lyla.

“What?”

Lyla shrugs, arms still crossed over her chest. “Yeah, she was awake since three in the morning and hasn’t slept until now.”

“No, the other thing. The thing about her figuring out something was wrong.”

Lyla’s eyes widen and she uncrosses her arms quickly. “Oh, you know, I just remembered that I need to do something for Jess. She wants it done by the time she arrives, so I ought to go because I don’t need a lecture from Jess.”

“Lyla,” Miguel whispers in a warning tone.

“Rest well and don’t be a creep, goodnight!” Lyla says before she disappears, leaving him with questions.

Miguel sighs, feeling annoyed that she avoided the question but now he knows. You were the one that figured it out but how? What were you doing at HQ so late? Miguel decides that he’ll ask you tomorrow, or rather later, as it’s already early Sunday. Miguel continues to watch you sleep until your soft and even breathing lure him back to sleep.

★★★

A few hours later, Miguel wakes up. He finds you sitting on the fold out chair, already dressed in different clothes and looking like you’ve showered. You’re on the tablet Ben Reilly brought you yesterday, eyebrows furrowed as you type into the screen.

“Good morning,” Miguel says, his voice sounding raspy and deeper than usual.

You look up and stand up immediately, leaving the tablet on the chair as you approach him.

“Good morning, Miguel. Did you sleep well?”

Miguel nods, closing his eyes for a second, getting used to the brighter light in the room. The sun is out today, and the sky is sprinkled with white clouds. The rain is gone.

“I did, thank you. What time is it?”

“It’s nine.”

“I slept too much,” he responds, opening his eyes.

“You need as much rest as possible,” you reply, observing Miguel’s face. He looks much better today.

“I guess so,” Miguel replies, looking at you again. “You look ready to start the day.”

You nod and smile. “I woke up about two hours ago and decided to go ahead and get ready for the day.”

Miguel gives you a small grin. “What are you working on?”

Meeting his eyes, you continue to smile. “Well, I asked Jess this morning if there was anything else I could help with around here. She assigned me to work on the report for this week.”

Miguel nods, thinking that’s something he always works on, but it doesn’t bother him that you’re doing it. If anything, it makes him think about something. And the thought grows as you grab the tablet and show him your progress so far. The layout is like the current one, just slightly different and he likes it. With the thoughts from last night still present in his mind, Miguel has the sudden thought that maybe he ought to let members do more around HQ. Maybe he should let someone else work on the report with him. Someone like you. He smiles softly as you show him, nodding. He’ll bring it up later, once he’s fully recovered.

“It looks great,” he says, and he means it.

“Thank you,” you say, saving your progress and putting the tablet away. “So, updates. Jess and Peter said they’d be here in a while. They’re bringing breakfast. The doctor came in and said she’ll look at your wounds sometime today to see the progress. Based on how they’re doing, she’ll decide when to discharge you. She also said you can shower today after she checks your wounds. So, would you like me or someone else to bring your personal items for a shower? You can wear normal clothes now, by the way. You just need to wear a jacket or something of the sort that can be slipped on and off if needed without you having to raise your arms too much.”

Miguel nods. “Yes, please. I really would like to shower and wear something else other than this,” he says looking down at the hospital gown. Thankfully he’s wearing his boxers underneath, but he doesn’t like how thin the fabric is and the AC has been constantly on.

“Alright, then we can ask the doctor to check your wounds after breakfast if you want. And then you can shower, which reminds me, the doctor said there’s a male nurse available. He’ll be ready to assist you.”

Miguel shakes his head. “I can do it by myself.”

You frown. “Miguel…”

“At least the lower half of my body, I can,” he says softly and looks away. “I may need help with my hair and torso but that’s it.”

“You’ll let the nurse help you with the rest though, right? You’ll hurt yourself if you try to do it alone.”

Miguel continues to look away. The thought of a stranger, despite being his employee, makes him feel weird, and not because it’s a man. He doesn’t want a stranger to touch him. He sighs and you know why.

“Would you be – more comfortable with one of us helping you?” you ask lowly.

Miguel’s eyes shift to you. There’s Jess, Peter, and you as his options.

You shrug a bit. “I don’t mind. And I’m sure neither would Peter and Jess if you ask them.”

Miguel nods slowly. “I hate to ask…”

You stare at him, swallowing slowly because you have a feeling that he’d prefer for you to help him, but he can’t ask. You decide to put it out there for him.

“I can help you if you’d like.”

And Miguel nods a few seconds later. “Thank you. I’m sorry – I know it’s too much. You’ve done so much already and I…”

“It’s not too much,” you answer softly. “It’s alright. Let’s just focus on you recovering, okay? Everything else – it doesn’t matter.”

Miguel nods but he still feels odd about this. He’s so used to doing everything on his own, which is how he got here, he realizes. He tries to put his feelings away just as there’s a knock on the door. Jess and Peter walk in, both carrying takeout bags. Peter is talking loudly and saying something about a nurse. Miguel and you frown, thinking that they must have been seen carrying in outside food.

“You didn’t get in trouble for bringing outside food?” you ask.

Jess frowns before she realizes what you’re talking about. “Oh, right. There’s that rule. Nobody follows it,” she says with a shrug.

You turn to Miguel as Jess and Peter start putting out the food on the same table from yesterday. The two of you share a look of disbelief at Jess’s comment before you grin, shaking your head softly. Miguel offers you a small smile in return.

The four of you have breakfast. It turns out that Jess brought breakfast from a diner in her universe, apparently a favorite spot of her husband’s, who kindly sent the food and wished Miguel a speedy recovery. After breakfast, Jess and Peter ask Miguel if they can talk about certain tasks that need his approval. You decide to take this time and collect his personal items. He gives you a quick rundown of everything he’d need and where you can find it before you head out.

It doesn’t take you very long. You retrieve his personal hygiene items like his shampoo, body wash, and deodorant along with his hairbrush. You move to the clothes next. It turns out that Miguel has a large walk-in closet, located in his room that you completely missed when you came to look for him two nights ago as the doors blend with the rest of the wall so much. You pick up two pairs of dark grey sweatpants, at his request, and two jackets, along with two pairs of boxers. You remember to grab some slippers and socks as well, and pack everything into a travel bag before you head out of his bedroom, briefly taking in his space.

Miguel’s room is large, clean, and well organized but you can tell he doesn’t spend a lot of time here. Everything is in neutral colors like his grey bed set. You head to Miguel’s home office next to pick up the last thing he requested. A vial that’s supposed to contain a green liquid and a syringe. You wondered but of course you didn’t ask.

You enter the office, finding it like the rest of Miguel’s penthouse; clean and organized, all neutral colors. You head to the desk, remembering he said you’d find what he needs in the first drawer and sure enough, you find the items there. The squared vials, which contain a neon green liquid, are in a small box meant to keep them from breaking. You pick one up, careful not to drop it, and place it in one of the small storage bags within the traveling bag. The large syringe is also in the drawer, and it’s apparently Spider-Man themed as you notice the injecting needles are designed to look like a spider’s fangs. You slide it into the bag, too. You walk out of the office, ready to head back as the strange vial is on your mind.

When you return to HQ, you find Jess and Peter standing off to the side. Miguel is on the bed surrounded by the medical team just as they’re preparing to remove his gauzes. You stick back with Jess and Peter, still holding the travel bag in your hand as Jess tells Miguel about the different things done to fix the system failure from yesterday. Miguel nods, listening intently as a nurse unties the hospital gown from the back of his neck, gently moving it down his arms to not hurt him and for the first time, you see the extent of his injuries. Most of his torso is covered in gauzes with only a few areas showing his skin and it makes you realize just how much he was injured. Thankfully Jess continues talking, showing no hesitation. Meanwhile, you sense Peter going still much like you. He looks out the window with a soft and thoughtful look on his face while you look down at the traveling bag, both of you feeling stunned by the sight of Miguel’s torso covered in gauzes.

You eventually look up again, noticing that the team is now removing gauzes, revealing Miguel’s injuries. Even from this distance you can see light pink lines across his skin from the smaller wounds. You also notice other things, like Miguel’s physique. You obviously know he’s well-built due to being a superhero but as your eyes respectfully inspect his upper body you still feel… admiration? Surprise? In a matter of seconds your eyes take in his broad and defined shoulders, his collarbone, and the lines of definition that mark his chest and abdomen. And when you look at his arms, you notice his large biceps and the veins leading down to his hands. As silly as it sounds all you can think about is that phrase everyone uses when they talk about a well-built and handsome man. It’s like Miguel was sculpted by -

“Did you get everything Miguel needed?”

“What?” you reply quietly, blinking and turning your head to Peter, startled.

“I asked if you got everything Miguel needed. You okay? You look a little distracted,” Peter says with a little grin.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you nod. “Yeah, I got everything. And yes, I’m fine. Just – it’s been a stressful weekend, that’s all,” you answer neutrally, looking down at your gizmo as an excuse to avoid Peter’s gaze because you sense that he caught you staring.

You briefly look at Miguel, his eyes are on Jess as she continues to talk, thankfully unaware that you were staring at him. The medical team continues to work and at last, all the gauzes are removed. You can see the worst of his injuries now which include the two large cuts on his side and then the one in his stomach from the trident, which needed stitches. The doctor tells you how to go about cleaning his wounds, as Miguel makes it known you’ll be helping him, so you take note of everything for when the time comes.

“Well, that’s everything. The other thing I was thinking about is that we should consider training or at least educating more members on how to work with the system. Y/N had to get Margo in order to get Lyla working again when she arrived at HQ,” Jess says, not realizing Miguel still hasn’t heard the whole story.

Miguel sits on the bed; the hospital gown is draped over his chest now. At the mention of you arriving to HQ and discovering something was wrong, he meets your eyes. Two people have now mentioned you arriving at HQ and being the one to discover something was wrong. Miguel’s curiosity only grows but he doesn’t ask right now with Jess and Peter here. He’ll be asking you soon, even though he notices you avert his gaze. He returns his gaze to Jess and nods.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he says after a few seconds, which surprises Jess. She was expecting opposition. “Let’s put together a list of members that would be interested and suitable for it.”

Jess nods. “I already have a list. These two are included,” Jess says nodding at you and Peter.

Miguel’s eyes turn to you and Peter. “If you’re interested, you’re approved.”

“Oh, thanks, pal! I’m in.”

You nod. “I’m interested, too. Thank you.”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll be the first to be trained,” Miguel says softly. “I’ll personally teach you once I’m back in the lab.”

Peter and you nod, giving him smiles.

“Well, that’s really everything now. We’ll go ahead and head out so you can shower. Don’t worry about lunch or dinner. My husband and I are cooking something for you,” Jess says smiling fondly. “He agreed you two deserve a homemade meal now that things are calmer. You know how he is,” she adds with a smile that you only see on her when she talks about her partner.

“Thank you, Jess. Please give my thanks to your husband as well,” Miguel says pausing, taking the moment to look at all of you. “Thank you for everything,” Miguel expresses, with his tone full of sincerity.

You smile at him as Jess and Peter say something, not finding it necessary to tell him anything else. You’ve told him already. Being here and helping him is not an inconvenience to you. He’s your friend, and you want to be here for him.

Jess and Peter head out shortly after, and you prepare to help Miguel shower.

You set his personal hygiene items out in the bathroom, along with his clothes before you help Miguel out of the bed once again. You walk with him to the bathroom and start the shower for him, angling the shower head so that he can wash the lower half of his body without getting his torso wet, as too much exposure to water can lead to infection. You leave towels out, easily accessible for him and head out but not before telling him to let you know if he needs help or when he’s ready.

You also ask him to take his time so he doesn’t hurt himself as the deeper wounds will take maybe two or three more days to fully heal. And Miguel promises he will.

You head out, closing the door behind you and prepare the items you’ll be needing to dress his wounds once he’s out. You also prepare the soap, washcloths, and two water basins the medical team provided to wash his upper body.

You wait patiently for Miguel to finish and as you do, you clean around the room to give yourself something to do. You fix his bed, fold the blankets, and rearrange the flowers and snack baskets gifted to Miguel since you picked up more items this morning while Miguel was still sleeping from the waiting area. Once done, you look around as you take a sip of leftover coffee from breakfast and that’s when you hear Miguel’s voice. You walk over and knock, asking if you can come in and do so once he replies yes.

When you walk into the bathroom, Miguel is standing in the shower. A towel is wrapped around his waist. The end of the towel is tucked in but he still his hand over it, as if he’s afraid it’ll slip off.

“Everything okay?” you ask. “No issues?”

“No issues, I just took a long time,” he says quietly.

“That’s alright. As long as you don’t get hurt, that’s all that matters,” you say. “Let me grab the other items, okay?”

He nods before you walk out and retrieve the items you prepared earlier. You come in again, feeling glad the shower is large enough to fit about three people despite a shower chair and bench being inside. Miguel watches silently, unable to stop himself from feeling embarrassed about the whole thing. He observes you place the water basins on the shower chair before you check the water temperature to make sure it’s not too hot, as you don’t want to cause Miguel any irritation or discomfort to his sensitive wounds. You finally angle the shower head towards the water basins to fill them as this is how you’re washing his chest. You check the soap that was given to you by the medical team when you remember.

“Shoot, I forgot to ask for something else,” you say, placing the soap on the bathroom counter. “It shouldn’t take me long, hold on.”

“What’s needed?” Miguel asks curiously, as nothing seems to be missing.

You pause, thinking how to word your statement. “I’m going to ask for gloves. It might be better for me to wear gloves to avoid – touching your injuries directly.”

You feel satisfied with your response. You didn’t say that you’ll be asking for gloves specifically to respect his boundaries regarding physical touch. All throughout the weekend you’ve done your best to avoid it, only touching him when there are fabrics in between and when it’s absolutely necessary. Miguel looks down at you with a look you can only describe as soft and tender, but it’s so brief you almost feel like you made it up.

Miguel gazes at you, knowing your true reason for wanting to request gloves, which leaves him unable to stop this warm feeling from taking root in his chest. Tenderness. It spreads across his chest rapidly and he tries his best to hide it even when he’s sure it’s too late to prevent it from showing on his face, but he can’t help it.

Despite everything, how tired you may be and how much he’s already asking of you, you’re still trying to respect his boundaries, something he’s always been silently grateful for. He gives you a small smile.

“I don’t mind,” Miguel says at last.

You nod slowly. “Okay – you’re sure, though? I can quickly go get some. The medical team has been wonderful, and they’d get me a pair in no time.”

“It’s alright. You don’t need to get gloves,” Miguel replies quietly but with a reassuring tone.

You nod again and look at the water basins, they’re halfway filled now.

“Okay… Alright, then let’s get you cleaned up. You might start getting cold with the AC continuously running,” you say, trying to distract yourself from the fact he’s okay with potentially feeling your hands on his skin.

You push away your thoughts regarding that and prepare yourself mentally, as you don’t want to hurt Miguel in the process. You wash your hands thoroughly and go through the steps the medical team gave you in your head as Miguel waits patiently. The two of you decide to start with washing his chest first before anything else as you both figure that it’ll take the most time and then leave his hair for last.

And so, after grabbing the smaller shower bench to stand on because you can’t reach his shoulders all the way, you begin. You start from Miguel’s shoulders and make your way down slowly. You do this in parts. Cleaning the areas gently, rinsing the soap away, and then softly patting dry Miguel’s skin to avoid any infections. Your movements are gentle and cautious, and you continuously ask Miguel if he’s alright; urging him to tell you if you need to be more careful. Miguel assures you he’s in no pain or discomfort. He almost tells you he believes it’s impossible for you to be any gentler with him. Your gentleness makes him feel like some fragile object that may break with just the wrong look. Thankfully, his embarrassment fades slowly as you don’t seem to mind this. You look so focused on the task, like it’s your sole mission to avoid hurting him.

You dip the washcloth into the water basin once more before you slightly push the shower bench away, no longer needing it for height right now until you wash his back. You carry on while Miguel stands there, still holding the towel around his waist with one hand softly, staring at the shower wall and occasionally looking down at you briefly. He distracts himself for a bit by wondering if he’ll have some scars from this. He’s certain the trident wound will most definitely leave one behind since it was the deepest wound, but it doesn’t bother him. Miguel doesn’t view scars or anything of the sort like stretchmarks on a body as a flaw or imperfection. He’s just curious if there’ll be a physical reminder of this event on his body.

Miguel’s thoughts are interrupted when he feels the washcloth lower on his body. You’re about to reach the trident wound at last and that means you’re reaching his lower abdomen. He feels a bit embarrassed as the towel is just inches above his pelvic area. He’s afraid that you’ll find this to be too much but when he looks at you, you have the same look on your face. You’re not eyeing him or helping him with hesitation. You’re only focused on his comfort and making sure that the wounds are clean. He does think about the way you were looking at him earlier though when the team was removing the gauzes. He noticed a look of surprise on your face, but he doesn’t know if it was due to the injuries or his body overall. Either way, he didn’t mind.

You finish at last and rinse the last part before you dry the area softly but effectively, as this is the area with the worst of his injuries.

“We’re done. Do you feel any discomfort? Please tell me if you do,” you state with concern.

“No discomfort. I hardly felt anything,” Miguel reassures you. “Really, you can relax.”

You sigh softly and nod, relieved because you can tell he’s not lying. “I’m glad to hear that. I was worried I was putting too much pressure at times because some of the wounds had – you know – dry blood, so I wanted to clean the wounds properly,” you softly reply. You give him a small smile now, glad the most nerve wrecking part is over. “Alright, let’s wash the rest of your body now.”

You wash the rest of Miguel’s body, washing his arms all the way to his fingers. You keep a neutral face even when you hold his wrists so you can wash his hands, noticing the slits on Miguel’s finger pads from where his talons come out. And of course, you’re sort of in awe at how large his hands are. It’s not like you haven’t noticed before but they somehow look larger without the suit. You push your thoughts away, making sure that Miguel is in no discomfort and that you don’t waste time but even then, you can’t help but notice how his skin feels or how warm he is. You silently think about how you’ve never encountered anyone with such body warmth.  

The two of you are silent the whole time but it’s a comfortable silence. Neither of you feel the need to fill the quiet and besides, Miguel’s mind is occupied with last night’s thoughts, about the new proposition to educate members on how to operate the system, and on top of that, he’s still wondering how you knew something was wrong. He wants to ask but the fact that you averted his gaze when Jess mentioned it makes him think you’re not ready to talk about it. So, he’ll wait for a few days.

You gently wash Miguel’s sides, his underarms, and finally his back having to use the shower bench again to reach his shoulders. You rinse his body, holding a towel above the one wrapped around his waist to avoid getting it damp. Finally, you pat him dry everywhere again.  

You move to his hair at last. For this, the shower chair is used. You arrange it so that you can stand behind Miguel while he sits on it. With everything you need at your disposal, you start by wetting his hair. You pour warm water, making sure that his hair is completely wet before you lather the shampoo in your hands. You proceed to glide your fingers into Miguel’s hair, gently pressing your fingertips into his scalp.

At your request, Miguel’s eyes are closed since you’re worried water or shampoo will get in his eyes. And the moment he feels your fingertips on his scalp, Miguel’s relieved you requested that of him. His lips part slightly in both surprise and delight at the sensation of your fingers in his hair. Fortunately for him, you don’t notice. He quickly closes his lips and bites the inside of his cheek as he continues to feel your fingertips through his hair. His grip on the towel around his waist tightens and for a few seconds he's afraid his talons will come out.

And you, you’re oblivious to all of this as Miguel tries very hard not to let it show. You just continue to wash his hair, noticing more than ever the curls on Miguel’s hair. His hair is silky, and you briefly wonder what it’d be like to glide your fingers through it when it’s dry. It reminds you of the countless times you played with Peter’s hair, something he absolutely loved, claiming it always eased his stress.

Thinking about Peter in this moment leads you to remember the one time you washed his hair. It was shortly after the two of you moved in together. You painted the living room, and he got paint on it, which refused to come out after the first two showers. He ended up sitting on the tub while you sat on the edge, washing his hair a few times until it finally came off. It was the only time you got to reciprocate such intimate act even though he helped you shower on more than five occasions, when you returned home with nasty bruises and cuts, and completely spent from fighting.

Miguel continues to sit still, your hands still washing his hair gently, and he decides to talk about anything to keep his mind occupied and distracted from your hands on his scalp.

“Have you ever received injuries like these?” he asks, keeping his eyes closed.

The question interrupts your thoughts, and it takes you a few seconds to answer.

“To this degree… One time only. I got cut with a sword,” you say, recalling that incidence. “The guy caught me by surprise while I was helping civilians out of the way. I needed a few stitches.”

Miguel hums softly in acknowledgement. “A sword…”

You chuckle. “Yep. Got home afterwards and well, Peter had to help.”

Miguel turns his head slightly at that. “Peter? You didn’t go to the hospital?”

You slow down your movements as you’re now washing the hair near Miguel’s nape. “I was too – precautious, I guess you could say. Paranoid might be the best term here. I feared that the hospital staff would start asking questions or put two and two together about being Spider-Woman. I was afraid that my identity would be revealed. That Peter’s life would be a mess because of me.”

Miguel listens intently, briefly feeling thankful that the conversation is distracting him from your touch.

“So, I refused to go to the hospital. It was a condition I had. Unless it was very, very serious then I’d go but otherwise no. Peter ended up taking a class on wound care and CPR because of my decision, even though he was very against it, but he was always very supportive… Thankfully by the time that happened he already knew how to take care of it. That was the first and last time he had to give me stitches.”

You pause for a few seconds, thinking. To this day you have a slight scar on the side of your stomach, and you carry it with love, for it’s one of the reminders of Peter’s love. You sigh softly and wash Miguel’s hair near his ears now, careful not to get shampoo on them. Miguel sits there thinking about Peter. He never met the man but just from what he’s acquire, he knows Peter loved you. So much, that he took classes on wound care to treat your injuries. Miguel feels grief for you. You had such a beautiful relationship with Peter. He wonders silently if at this point, you’d be married to him. If you’d have a child by now.  

You’re almost done washing his hair when his thoughts lead to a different line of thinking. He hates it because he knows it’s wrong and yet he cannot stop his thoughts. Would you still be here if Peter was alive? Or would you be just another member who reached the conclusion that perhaps he was a lost cause after weeks of him ignoring your coffee cups? Would you go home to Peter and tell him about your distant boss, who spends too many hours on his own in his lab? Would you be here? Would you be a constant in his life the way you are now?

Would any of this have happened at all, he wonders. If Peter was here, there would’ve been no need for him to show up to your apartment that day you were unwell. There would be no talking on Peter’s birthday over cake and ice cream. No sharing of pan dulce and Mexican candy on Dia de los Muertos night, no one to watch the Christmas lights or New Year’s Eve show with. There would be no you.

You wouldn’t be a part of his life the way you are but if Miguel had the power to choose between you being a part of his life or you living your best life with Peter unscathed, he’d choose the latter, even if it meant there would be no you in his life.

Even then though, the simple thought that there’s a chance you could’ve never been a part of his life like this, leaves Miguel with a heavy feeling in his chest that rises to his throat. A feeling that he hasn’t felt in a while and it’s one that tells him he has something to lose again. And that’s how he truly knows. He’s been going backwards all this time. Each moment spent with you behind closed doors talking over coffee, or on rooftops gazing at cities across the multiverse, each moment that either of you’ve shared something with the other about your past and loved ones, or each time he thought of you late at night when his exhausted mind wandered off; he’s been slipping backwards all this time and he hasn’t even realized it until now. And despite knowing he’d give this up for you to be happy with Peter, he still can’t help but grief over the thought alone, causing that feeling to grow in Miguel’s throat.

You continue to wash Miguel’s hair and then rinse, laying your hand gently over his forehead to prevent any water from rolling down his face as you do so. You have no idea what’s on Miguel’s mind or what causes him to sigh deeply before he speaks.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I haven’t said it but I’m sorry for your loss. Peter – he sounds like he was an incredible human being.”

You smile sadly as you rinse his hair out. “Thank you… He was. I wish he would’ve had more time. I think – he would’ve done a lot of amazing things. He had so many goals,” you share quietly, remembering all the ideas and plans he had, which had remained exactly that. Just ideas and plans. You finish rinsing Miguel’s hair and give him a happier smile now. “We’re almost done here.”

Miguel nods gently, still thinking about everything. For once, his mind isn’t occupied with tasks regarding the Spider Society but with other affairs. As you rinse the bottom of his hair, squeezing out the water gently, Miguel opens his eyes.

“Y/N?” he says, making you pause.

“Yes?”

Miguel stays silent for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling.

“Thank you,” Miguel says softly, heavy with sincerity.

And the way he says those simple words, it makes your lips part in surprise and endearment, for you sense that his thanks extend beyond this moment. Miguel turns his head towards you, his red eyes meeting your gaze. You give him a smile.

“Always,” you reply quietly, and he nods with a small smile of his own before you finish rinsing his hair.

You finish helping Miguel with the rest. You dry his hair with a towel and brush it. You help him get dressed once the two of you figure out a way to do so without him feeling improper. At last, Miguel stands in his sweatpants, still topless as you must dress his wounds. You do this in the room instead of the bathroom, with Miguel sitting on the fold-out chair you’ve claimed as yours this weekend. You sit on the shower bench and tend to his wounds the way you were told to, applying your own knowledge from experience over the years.

The TV is on as you work carefully. Miguel seems unbothered until you reach the trident wound and the two lacerations on his side, wincing silently which makes you stop to give him a moment. At last, his wounds are taken care of for the day. You help him apply deodorant before you slip a beige jacket on, zipping it up so he won’t get cold.

It isn’t until you’re done fixing the bathroom from the shower that Miguel asks about the vial, reminding you about it. You get it out along with the syringe before you show them to him. You know he can’t do it himself and despite your curiosity, you don’t ask questions about it, deciding that he’ll share details about it if he wants. So, you only offer to help, and he accepts. He tells you how to do it and the process is over in a few seconds with a fleeting red glow in his eyes. You don’t say anything and neither does Miguel, who looks down at his hands as you put away the syringe.

As promised, Jess arrives during lunch and dinnertime to bring the two of you food. You help Miguel eat both times and you notice he seems in much better spirits than the day before. It’s about 7pm when your gizmo goes off, alarming you of a new notification, and then another, and then another. Miguel, who now sits on the bed, turns to look at you with a puzzled look much like yours as you check it. You smile in amusement as you see it’s your friends, wondering if you and Miguel need something, and just overall asking about his health. Another one arrives, making Miguel raise his eyebrow as you look up at him.

“It’s my friends,” you say with a soft smile. “They’re wondering how you’re doing and if we need anything.”

Miguel nods, noticing the smile on your face as you talk about your group of friends. He realizes you probably haven’t seen them since Friday after the weekly dinner that Peter and Mary Jane host. Dinners that Miguel has been invited to but has never shown up to.

“If you want to see them,” Miguel starts. “They can come.”

You hold his gaze with a bit of surprise, which Miguel finds amusing.

“There are no rules against visitors this late in the evening, and even if there were – they’d probably be disregarded as well, just like the outside food rule,” Miguel says with a shrug, making you smile even more.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

You beam at Miguel, and nod before you invite them over. Your visible excitement makes Miguel feel pleased with his decision. And, in the span of ten minutes, you and Miguel are joined by all your friends, including Lego Spider-Man, who was apparently hanging out with Noir. Miguel sits on the bed, surrounded by some of your friends as you hang out by the windows with Hobie and Pav specifically.

You watch Miguel as he talks to Lego Spider-Man, who’s held in Noir’s palm. You notice he gives Miguel a balloon and a flower, from his Lego universe, of course. Miguel nods at something the small superhero tells him, and you smile faintly before turning your attention back to your friends.

Miguel thanks everyone as they approach him, not only for the cards and well wishes but for helping around HQ. When Miles approaches him, he takes the time to thank him for his words – for his forgiveness.

“Wait, you guys know what I just realized?” Pav asks suddenly in a surprised tone.

You and Hobie both raise an eyebrow.

“This is the first time I’ve seen Miguel in normal clothes. This is so weird,” he shares frowning at Miguel, who doesn’t notice Pav’s shock. “It’s like – It feels wrong to see him like this.”

Hobie chuckles and you try not to laugh, catching Miguel’s eyes. He raises an eyebrow at you, as if asking what’s so funny. You shrug and mouth “later.” He nods as Pav continues about how strange Miguel looks until he changes the discussion to Gayatri, his girlfriend.

Miguel looks around the room, now filled with chaotic energy. His eyes land on you as you smile and nod at something Pav says.

He sighs quietly. He thinks about the dream with his family, about their words. He remembers Gabriel asking him to try to move forward and live life, and Miguel telling his brother he’d try. He doesn’t know exactly how he’s going to approach this entirely, but he is going to try. And as he continues to look at you, he thinks of his thoughts from earlier; about the possibility of you not being here or being his friend.

He'd give this up if it meant you’d be happy at home with Peter right now. If he had the power, he would but he doesn’t. He can’t change the past. None of it. No matter how much he has wished he could, it’s out of his hands. And so, he has no other excuse to give this up. No other excuse to push this away or catch himself from falling backwards even though he knows it’s too late anyway. He can’t walk away even if he wanted to.

“It’s gonna be alright, tío,” Miles says out of nowhere, noticing Miguel staring at you.

Miguel looks at Miles and nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you… mijo.”

Miles nods with a grin, his eyes light up at Miguel’s response, which the commander of the Spider Society notices.

“Uh – I just remembered I need to tell Gwen something. I’ll be right back,” Miles says, looking like he can’t believe what he heard, amusing Miguel before he walks to Gwen.

Miguel’s eyes return to you. He has a lot to share with you about his life; like his childhood, the situation with his parents, Gabriel’s death, or why he needs to use suppressants among other events in his life. He’ll share those things with you one day, little by little. The same way one day he’ll say those words that his mouth begs him to say.

You’re my friend.

One day, he’ll claim you as his friend out loud, too. In the meantime, he’ll try to show it through his actions instead.

___________ *Translation for italicized Spanish words:* conchas - Mexican bread shaped like a seashell Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead Mierda - Shit Tío - Uncle Pan Dulce - Sweet bread; Mexican pastry breads Mijo - My son ___________ Hi, guys! So sorry for taking a while to update. I honestly didn't expect to take this long writing this part. I had a clear idea for this part but got caught up with family events and just life in general. To the anon that asked when this part was going up and I said last Monday - I'm sorry it took me basically another whole week. 😭 I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter though. My simpness jumped out for this one so bad lol. The speakable things I'd do for this man are unreal!! I just want to hug Miguel and hold him and tell him he's worth it and deserving of love and friendships!!! 🥺

Anyway, I hope to return to my regular Sunday schedule this upcoming weekend. I'm also planning on doing some short drabbles for this month because I can't stop thinking about autumn and Miguel and just how freaking cozy he would be. Also, just very quickly! Some readers have drawn fan art for Nonviolent Communication, which I still cannot wrap my head around. I'm so, so thankful that these lovely artists drew art for it. I never imagined that someone, let alone two people, would take time out of their days to do so. Thank you again so much! 🥹 If you're interested to see some of the scenes from the story, including someone's take on reader's Peter (which @sunsetdoodler somehow managed to draw exactly like my personal vision of him??! I still feel emotional. One of their drawings was also the inspiration for the larger coffee cups for Miguel after we talked about Miguel probably needing more caffeine because of his physique lol) then please go check it out, and show the artists some love, please!! It's all linked on my masterlist. Thank you so much for the support throughout this story. I genuinely love reading the comments and asks I receive, and I hope you guys continue to enjoy the story to the end. I'm just really in awe with how wonderful this community is and I'm thankful to my 6'9" half-Irish, half-Mexican boyfriend for it.

I'm off to sleep now as it's 1am and I've been writing and editing all weekend lol. Take care guys and enjoy the spooky vibes this month!! ❤️🎃🍁

-Alondra🍁

Tag list: @loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @rootin-tootin-morgan @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @mandodinstuff @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel spiderman #across the spiderver fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n

[justarandombrit]

Okay, so in case anyone couldn't make it to the livestream (and just because I wanted to), I wrote down some notes while watching it, so if anyone wants to read them, they're below the cut. (Also sorry ANI fans, my dad came in to borrow a pencil while the ANI segment was happening, so I missed a lot of it)

. There was a 4 minute long intro voice over before AVPM

. James watched AVPM

. 600,000 and Lauren plays the green screen piano

. 700,000 and Lauren does an architectural digest on the green screen house

. Jon really loves Ready To Go

. Darren keeps letting Joey know he sounds like shit on old recordings

. Pinball Pete’s burnt down 🙏🙏

. MAMD was the first student produced album to make the charts

. A Very Potter Sequel’s name came before A Very Potter Musical

. They accidentally wrote Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

. James gave Julia Albain leg splints

. During Starship the entire cast was breathing fibreglass

. Starship was called “knowingly amateurish”

. Darren was supposed to write 15 songs for Starship, but he got cast on GLEE

. Darren flew in to join a rehearsal as a surprise, ran in singing Beauty and everyone was so pissed

. Everyone still loves Kick It Up A Notch

. Nick: “Which was Holy Musical B@man-

Lauren: “Fuck yeah”

. They made up Sweet Tooth, and then found out he was an actual Batman villain

. Matt came up with “Calendar Man, your days are numbered” in his dream, and it was so good it forced him awake to instantly call Nick

. Everyone thought the flying machine joke was the best AVPM joke

. Goin' Back To Hogwarts Reprise made everyone cry

. AVPSY was five hours long

. Curt saw AVPSY

. Darren arrived 2 hours before the show and didn't get a chance to read through a lot of the script

. Darren came up with “I hope you find that swimming pool”

. Joey ate one banana on the day of AVPSY and during Sidekick went “I'm losing my vision”

. They had to pay the hotel union $11,000 to use THEIR OWN microphones, and Darren's STILL BROKE

. Jeff accidentally washed out his Aladdin hair dye

. A.J. Holmes had the same agent as Jafar's original VA, and they got him to do the intro and say “pee” and “poop” in Jafar's voice

. ANI was, as we know, expected to be a hit, and, as we know, it was not

. TTO was, as we know, expected to fail, and, as we know, did not

. TTO had a batshit cast party

. Pierce used to ask Matt insanely complicated questions before bed, e.g, “How did WWII happen?”

. Firebringer was a really old concept

. Literally no one questioned why the “I don't really wanna do the work today” clip had loads of people dressed as cavewomen + cavemen

. Firebringer was the first show Jon saw live

. They made up all the Hatchetfield shows at the same time

. Nick kept making sure Paul was having fun

. The song from the Pirate Show, “Born To Be Wretched goes so fucking hard. Like if a sea shanty was a musical theatre song essentially

. Mariah: “Rich gays, please give”

. Lauren choreographed Show Stoppin' Number

. People actually gave Lauren their phones when she asked in Inevitable, and they would take them backstage and take selfies before giving them back. One time it was locked and she shouted “WHAT'S THE PASSCODE?!?!?”

. Joey: “I'm in the middle of Wiggle”

. Everyone was ill during Black Friday

. Bryce saw Black Friday

. BRYCE GOT THE APPLE

. Nick told her “Interesting things happen here” when showing her to the seat

. Ahhh when Jeff played Tom…

. Angela was in Jaime’s improv class

. Angela is no longer on vocal rest

. Angela had to kill Sherman with a finger gun one night

. Will was 100% ready for NPMD

. Will was at a party they went to during A Very Starkid Reunion

. HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR STARKID

. Rip Kim

. The Docks of Troutspear is sung by Matt’s favourite character (it also slaps)

. The Pit Stop in Hatchetfield livestream is going to be a tag team deathmatch

. I love Starkid so much

#starkid #team starkid #cinderella's castle #cinderellas castle #starkid productions

[starsval]

6 favours with James Potter

James Potter x f!reader

Summary: James enters your life by asking you weird favours.

Word count: 2,1k

Warnings: kissing, mentions of punching and broken noses, anxiety attacks, crying.

A/N: based on Do Me a Favour by Arctic Monkeys, even though these aren't the vibes of the song.

Pd: I had to make that Taylor reference, I couldn't help it.

Favour 1

"And do me a favor and break my nose" That's one of the first things James said to you while showing interest. You have talked a few times in class, but not enough for him to ask you that. 

"What?" You ask him, unbothered, sitting under a tree, facing the lake. 

"The other day at the party, you broke his nose"

Oh, yes, you did. Some guy in one of your friend's classes was bothering her a lot, and he'd been doing it for a while. So you took advantage of the situation, and punched him, just to blame it on the alcohol after. 

After that beautiful flashback, you look back at your homework. 

"I don't know what you're talking about" You tell him. 

"Punch me so I can get over you" He suddenly says. 

"Over me? What-" You are even more confused with this than with your homework. 

"I can't stop thinking about you since I saw you at the party, and it's not like we're strangers, so just do it" 

"James- I'm not gonna punch you" You start to pack your things as you see your friend walking to you. "I have to go, bye" Then you start to walk away, but not enough to not hear him shout:

"You know my name!"

You look back at him for a moment, doubting that this is all a prank.

“What was that?” Your friend asks you as you start to walk to the castle.

“It doesn’t matter” You sigh. 

Favour 2

This time you were in divination class, waiting for your friend to sit next to you.

"Lately I've been feeling like" You start talking as soon as someone sits next to you, thinking it's your friend. But as you look up you see James. 

"What? Where's-" He cuts you off by pointing at your friend, who's now sitting next to Sirius, clearly flirting. 

"Do me a favor and tell me to go away" He finally says. 

"What?" You ask, focused on your homework again. 

"Yes, I was thinking, and I'm not sure that I would lose my feelings for you if you punched me” He smiles, like he’s imagining it. “Because, well, you get it. So this is the safest way”

"I don't-" You get interrupted again, this time by the teacher, who just approached you two.. 

"James, could you tell us what you see in the crystal ball?" He focuses for a moment, like he's really trying to see something. 

"I see me in a really happy relationship with Y/n" He whispers the last part, so only the teacher could hear it. 

"You know what? I know I sensed something between you two" She mutters before walking away, to bother another pair of students. James immediately looks at you with a big smile, to which you roll your eyes, but smile anyway. 

"It's in the stars" He points to the ceiling "We're going to be together" 

"Sure" You are still looking at your homework, but you can see how he smiles even more. 

"How have you been feeling lately?" 

"What?"

"You were going to say that to your friend"

"Didn't you want me to tell you to go away"

"Yes but you didn't, so I'm assuming I have possibilities. So, I want to get to know you"

You sigh, knowing that you can't escape from him, so you just tell him about your favorite food, song, color, flavor and season. You learn that he loves red, eucalyptus and spring, because it's better to play quidditch. 

Before you can answer another of his weird questions, it's time to go to your next class, without him. So you pack your things and get up. You walk away after saying.

"I never said you didn't have possibilities"

Since then James started walking you to class, and you even went to see him practice once. Only to deny it after. But you've been talking to him more and more.

Favour 3

It was all too much, the tests, your family, your friend who you doubted was your friend anymore. It was all too much, all bottled up, until you get a letter from your family. Asking of course about your grades, not about you, or your life, about your grades, no before talking about their lives. 

So you walk out the Great Hall, before everyone sees you cry. You don't even bother in telling your friend, she was too focused on some boy to notice you practically running out the room. 

As soon as you're in the hallway, you feel the tears running down your face, while you walk to some random balcony, to get some air. 

"What happened?" You hear James ask. He noticed you as soon as you got up the chair, and he noticed something was wrong. 

"Nothing" You answer, even though tears keep falling from your eyes. Then he sits next to you, contemplating the quidditch pitch in front of you. 

"It was your friend, wasn't it? You guys are almost all the time together" 

"No, I'm fine" No, you weren't. 

"You know it's okay to cry, right? And to tell people if they're bothering you"

This time you're the one who asks the favor. 

"James, do me a favor and stop asking questions" You tell him, finally drying your face with your hands. 

"Oh, okay" He tries to get up, but you stop him, by holding his hand. 

"You can stay, just, talk about something else"

And he does, you stay there talking about the next prank he's doing, still holding his hand. 

Favour 4

Breathe

You repeat yourself as you walk around an abandoned classroom. You were having an anxiety attack in the middle of the class, and you didn't want anyone to see you right now. So you just asked to go to the bathroom and here you were. Getting dizzy from walking around a table.

You keep trying to dry your face, even though tears keep coming out your eyes, when someone knocks on the door. 

"Are you okay?" It's James, he's on the other side of the door, worrying about you. 

"Yes" You tell him after getting close to it, so he could hear you. 

"Do me a favor, and ask if you need some help" He says. 

"I don't need help, I just need five minutes" You talk, still reminding yourself to breathe. 

"Can I be with you during those five minutes?" You think about it, and when he's about to leave, you open the door with your wand, sitting on a table, looking at the window. 

"Yes" You quietly say, drying your face as he sits next to you. 

“I’ve seen the way she acts” He talks after a while, when you already stopped crying “Your friend, I mean. And I know I don’t have anything to do with your friendships, but as your future boyfriend, I can tell you that you deserve better” You look at him.

“My future boyfriend?” You smile, and look back at the window. “And I know, but she’s my only friend, she was the only stability I had in my life” You sigh “But not anymore I guess”

“I’ll help you make new friends, I think you would really like Remus” Then he thinks about it “Maybe not him, let's start with Sirius”

You raise an eyebrow at him “Why?” 

“No reason”

“Are you afraid I might like Remus more than I like you?"

“What? No, it’s not that, how could you not like me? Have you seen me?-” Then he realizes what you said “You like me?” He smiles. But before you can answer, the bell rings, informing you that the class is over, therefore, lunch just started.

“Bye” You walk to the door, not looking back to an amazed James, who looks at you until the door closes.

Favour 5

“She likes me! She told me she likes me!” James was telling his friends when he saw you walking in the Great Hall and sitting alone. He was going to sit next to you but he saw your friend walking towards you.

He couldn’t hear what you guys were talking about, but he saw you being confident and your friend frowning, so he assumed you followed his advice. After a meal where James was only focused on you and fully ignoring his friends, he could finally walk to you as you reached the door.

“You like me” He says as he follows you to the garden, it was Saturday so you were going to do homework under the usual tree.

“Hi to you too” You answer, sitting and taking the things out of your backpack.

“Hi, you like me, right?” This time you ignore him, knowing that he wouldn’t shut up about that if you said anything wrong. “Okay, so I can’t ask that…” He thinks out loud. “Are you going to go to the Gryffindor party tonight?” He asks, smiling 

“I don’t think so” You answer, focused on your homework.

“What? Why not?” He frowns.

“If you want me to go, then ask me” You look up at him, causing him to smile.

“Will you go to the Gryffindor party tonight with me?”

“Yes” You focus again on the homework on your lap, and then you notice that he’s too quiet, so you look at him, just to see him smile like he just won a contest. “What?”

“I like you, and I know that you like me, because you said it, and because, who wouldn’t like me? Have you seen me? Everything is just so perfect…” Then he lays down next to you, watching the tree leafs move.

“Do me a favor, and stop flattering yourself” You tell him, avoiding his gaze when he looks up so he doesn’t think that you were staring at him(you were).

“Then I’ll flatter you”

“I need to finish this”

“I’ll flatter you in my head” You roll your eyes and he smiles, looking at you, until he realizes something “You won’t break anyone's nose tonight will you?”

“Shut up” You tell him, smiling.

Favour 6

“I told you you’d have a good time” James asks as he follows through the hall.

“You didn’t tell me that, but I had a good time”

“You know what wasn’t good? That I got in detention and couldn’t talk to you in a week”

“You talked to me through letters” You tell him, sitting in a random window, waiting for him to sit in front of you.

“You know what they say, the best way to get to someone’s heart is by letters”

“No one has ever said that” You tell him, smiling.

“I do” You roll your eyes, looking through the window. “Can I ask you one last favour?” That makes you look back at him.

“Sure”

“Do me a favour and be my girlfriend” He smiles, pretty confident in himself.

“Okay” You smile too, getting closer to him. “Then do me a favour and kiss me”

And he does, he kisses you until you can’t breathe, until all you feel are his hands on your waist, his lips on yours. He kisses you until you forget everything, until all you can wish is to stay here forever. He kisses you like he’s been waiting all his life for this moment, like his lips can’t stop, and you don’t want them to. You put your hands in his neck as he moves you closer to him, so you have no choice but to stay here and kiss him even more. 

He kisses you until you both hear someone clearing their throat.

You both look back at that person, hardly breathing, and you see Remus looking back at you.

“Hi Rem, this is my girlfriend” He smiles and looks back at you “I think it’s already safe for you to met him”

ᰔᩚෆ❧ღდლ❦ও❥ଓ

“You said no more favours!” You tell James.

“I know, but that would make me the happiest person alive”

“I thought that being my boyfriend made you the happiest person alive” You raise an eyebrow at him, who smiles at you.

“And it does! But I’d really love that”

“James, I’m not gonna punch Snape just because he looked at me”

“He was mean to you!”

“He didn't’ even talk!"

“But you could see him thinking mean things” You look at him, genuinely concerned, and sigh, laying in your bed.

“Let’s just sleep” You open your arms so he could cuddle you, and he does, smiling all the time.

“We’ll continue talking tomorrow?”

“James…”

“Okay, and you actually make me the happiest person alive” You smile, hugging him tightly.

#james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #young james potter #young remus lupin #kissing #fluff fluff fluff #arctic monkeys song #the marauders #the marauders era #james potter

[crazyinlovewithbucky]

“don’t fill your void with me”

PART TWO.

“Свою пустоту мною не заполняй”

Pairings: Villain!The Winter Solider!Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: this takes place in an alternative universe where Hydra took over the world and the winter soldier killed all Avengers and he became the leader of Hydra and he’s controlling the whole world. He saw you one day and he determined you were his and he made sure of that. and now after you both reunited, he shows you how much he cares for you and admits his feelings at the end.

Part One.

Warnings: smut, lots of fluff, villain bucky turns sweet, some angst, jealousy, dark themes, dark!bucky to soft!bucky, dom bucky, lots of praise + lots of praise in russian, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, speaking in russian.

This was inspired by Яд by Erika Lundmoen

please read my author note it’s very important!

AU/N: hey guys, part two is here. I need to remind you that English is not my first language so excuse any misspelling or mispronunciation of any words or any grammatical mistakes lol. Hope you enjoy this dark fantasy I had of Bucky as I was wondering how he would be still as a villain. Also, this was heavily inspired by ‘yad’ (Яд) by Erika Lundmoen, I love this song so much and it always reminds me of Bucky in his Winter soldier era. Enjoy loves xx

PART ONE

He buried his face in your neck, attacking the sensitive skin again with kisses, especially that sweet spot that gets you all turned on and horny. As if you’re not going to lose your mind already from how horny you are. You could feel his tip pushing slightly on your clit and you were just a moaning mess at this point. “Ready for me, love?” he lifted his head and rested his head on your forehead, locking eyes with you.

“Always, Bucky” you whispered, his whole expression changed. his eyes widened a bit at the sound of his name slipping out of your mouth like honey. He hadn’t heard this name in so long, and you are saying it like this had his heart beating faster, if he wasn’t in love with you before, he believes now he is.

"What did you say?" he sounded out of breath while looking at you with slightly wide eyes, he lifted himself slowly with his hands on each side of your head, pushing himself up.

You panicked a little and your heart started to beat a little faster, "I-I'm sorry. I- Bucky. No, James. I- I meant to say J-James. I'm sorry-y" your voice cracked as you were stumbling on words. you used your elbows to lift yourself up a little as your heart kept racing, not knowing what you should say or do next. Your body just wanted to feel his breath and touch again, and without thinking, you found yourself moving your lips closer to his and looking him deeply in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Jamie" you whispered against his lips.

In the beginning, He felt so strange, not good strange and not bad strange, just strange. These feelings now, you, your words, the names 'Bucky' and 'Jamie' slipping so sweetly from your mouth, and oh, your mouth, this mouth that looks so delicious and sweet to him. These names you called him just now, reminded him of his old life, before Hydra, before being the winter soldier, even before the war. Where everything was just colorful, he was happy, genuinely happy. He felt so happy at this moment, with you underneath him, so close to him, calling him the name he once cherished and loved. If he felt anything for you before like admiration or if these feelings were mainly sexual, now he's certain that he loves you, hell, he'd do anything for you as if he hasn't been doing that already, but now is different, now he wants you to be happy, he wants you with him, always. But suddenly, he was reminded of his awful present, him being the head of Hydra, and being a cold-blooded murderer. He cannot afford to bring you into this life, because he's sure everyone will use you to get him, to hurt him, to destroy him and he promised himself he won't let this happen again.

"It's okay, but don't say it again." his tone was cold, you actually shivered at these harsh words. "Jamie is nicer, I'm okay with it" he kept leaning towards you, which made you lean back and lay again on the bed, underneath him, while he kept nipping and kissing your neck. You can't stop thinking about his reaction when you called him Bucky, he looked shocked but you found something in his expression that indicates happiness, you swear his lips twitched as he was fighting not to smile. Then suddenly, his gaze darkened and his expression went somehow cold, you hated that. You want him to smile, you want him to remember who he was, and you want to save him from this darkness that surrounds him.

He went back to kissing you all over, making you shiver and whimper under his kisses and touches, his mouth and tongue moved to your boobs, he caressed them with his hands then sucked a hickey on your right nipple while pinching and twisting your left one, you kept whimpering and moaning, feeling more wetter.

He lined his cock to your pussy and started to move it and rub it on your clit and between your folds as he was smearing your juices all over his cock. He pushed in slowly, his head now filling you slowly as you whimpered and whined, "Don't tease, please" You whined and wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck.

"Told you, I'm taking my time with you, кукла" he whispered in your ear before biting your neck while he pushed the rest of his cock inside you. He was very big, and you always take time to adjust to him. you remembered the first time you both did it and you were murmuring to yourself how it wouldn't fit and he laughed and told you, it will and how you are his "good girl" and will take it like "the good girl you are". You clenched around him as you remembered his praises to you.

"Ahh, Fuck, you're squeezing the life out of me, милый, as if you aren't already so tight for me" he was out of breath as he bottomed out and stilled inside you for a while, making you adjust oh him.

"J-James, please move. I need you. please, Jamie, please." you whined as you needed more friction. He groaned as he started moving out of you, dragging his length in and out of you in slow strokes, grinding his hips slowly into yours. You swear you can feel his tip hitting that deep soft spot inside you that's so close to your cervix. You remembered he hit your cervix more than once during your rough hard sessions when he was so worked up and just wanted to fuck his stress away. You wished quietly, he would give up on this "love-making" attitude and start fucking your brains out. You wanted that and not that love-making bullshit, you don't want to get attached to him more than you already are.

He started to go a little faster, he groaned and moaned your name as he was sucking more hickeys on your neck. He gripped your hips and moved his hips to change the angle, and oh god, this new angle had you crying out loud, even though he was moving slowly and deeply inside you but it felt so good, this was way better than any hard or rough sex you both had.

He sat up while still rutting and fucking you deeply, then he moved his right hand down your body until it reached your left calf, he pulled it up on his waist and you were quick to wrap it around it, his right hand kept caressing and rubbing on your left thigh while his metal left hand moved and opened your right leg more. That gave him more space to move deeper and now his tip was hitting and rubbing your cervix. You screamed at the sensation and arched your back, feeling your orgasm so close.

"тебе так хорошо рядом со мной, куколка. Я никогда не хочу покидать тебя." he groaned loudly. you felt his cock twitching inside you and you knew that his orgasm is approaching too. His metal hand moved to your clit and he started to rub that sensitive bud in slow circular moves. "Cum for me, персик. I want to feel you soaking my cock with your sweet peach juices" he leaned down on you and kissed you sloppily, using his tongue and teeth while trying to catch his breath.

Everything he did and everything you feel is just so hot and too much for you to hold your orgasm any longer. Your orgasm bursted from you like a waterfall, you were crying out loud, back arching, legs shaking, eyes shut closed, nails scratching his back. He didn't stop his movements, fucking you through your intense orgasm while his hands kept rubbing your clit slowly, you were so sensitive, and unconsciously you kept trying to move away and back away from him and his deadly touches. "Come here, милая девушка. where are you going?" he groaned and held your hips so tight and pinning you underneath him on the bed, never stopping his deep overstimulating thrusts.

"T-Too much. Ahh B-Bucky, b-baby too much" You were so far gone to focus on your words, you were just babbling now and words are getting out of your mouth without thinking. He groaned loudly at your words and his cock twitched hard. He kept holding your hips down and his grip tightened.

With one last deep thrust, he came inside you with loud groans. He threw his head back as his hips kept grinding slowly against yours, unable to control his movements anymore, while his cock kept spilling all of his cum inside you, filling you up to the max. And with that feeling alone, him spilling his load in you, his tip rubbing your soft spot, his cum shooting straight and hitting your cervix, your second orgasm hit you like lightning and you couldn't help but scream as you came all over his cock again.

He collapsed on top of you and slowly moved his torso away to not crush you underneath him and give you space to breathe. you both panted loudly, trying to catch your breath after that very intense sex. You blinked slowly, thinking that this is absolutely the best sex you ever had in your life. After you calmed down a bit, you looked at him and found him already staring at you with a smile on his face. You smiled in return and kept locking eyes with him, the words "I love you" are literally on the tip of your tongue, fighting so hard to be let out.

"Come here" he wrapped his arms around your body and sat on his knees, moving you both up until he rested you and your head on the fluffy white pillows. All of that, while his cock is still inside you. Though, you felt very sensitive and overstimulated and each move he made, made you whimper slowly but you didn't mind it. Actually, you loved feeling him inside you, filling you like this. Feeling so connected to him and so close to him than ever. You loved this feeling so much, hoping in the future, he'd let you cockwarm him more.

"You're so beautiful, Мой король" you said while hugging him tightly. You couldn't see it but he blushed and his smile widened. He really is in love with you, he said to himself. The connection you felt with him, he felt it too, he cherished it and wanted to keep it forever. Keep you forever. He just can't ask something like this from you, can't ask you to give up everything and your life to be with him, as if you haven't already done that. His life is dangerous. He is dangerous, he thought. And he would literally kill himself if anything bad happened to you, but not before burning the whole world to the ground, literally.

He moved his head and kissed you passionately, you felt like he was starved for this kiss from how deep and passionate it is as this was his sweet response to you calling him 'beautiful' and 'my king'. You kissed him back, hungrily and needy. You want to live in this moment forever, like this, with him, surrounded by him, on his bed, and him between your arms. But life is just so unfair.

He moved slowly, pulling himself out of you and being careful not to hurt you as you felt so sensitive. When he got out, he threw himself on the bed next to you but not before taking you into his arms and cuddling silently with you. Your head was on his chest while his arms were wrapped around you, hugging you tightly. You both stayed like this for a while. Him taking in your sweet scent and burying his face in your hair, and you were hugging him while running your finger on his arms and chest and making invisible circles on his chest.

"Can I ask you a question?" you broke the silence with a soft question that's almost a whisper, while still running your fingers on his chest.

"Hmmm?" He hummed in your hair and now he's running his right hand on your arm and rubbing it softly.

"Am I the only one?" you sounded sad, which made him furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

"What do you mean?" he lifted his head up and stopped rubbing your arm.

You lifted your head and looked at him too. He could see that upset look on your face. Not knowing what he did wrong. "Am I the only girl you sleep with? The only one you treat like this? Or there are other girls, you treat the same and make them stay in fancy condos and call them whenever you want to fuck your stress away like you do with me?" Your tone was harsh at these last words, you didn't intend to but you just can't help the anger and the sadness you feel, thinking you are not the only one.

"Do you think I just "fuck my stress away" when I am with you?" his face and expression turned serious, he felt heartbroken you'd actually think that.

"I mean... that's what it feels like every time you call out for me. I'm just wondering if you do this with other girls." you looked away, hoping he wouldn't see the tears gathering up in your eyes and you were trying your hardest not to let them fall down.

"What would that matter to you if I do this with other girls or not?" he said harshly, moving his hands away from your body. "If you think that I just "fuck my stress away" with you and use you like a fucking stress ball then I believe it shouldn't matter to you if there are any other girls or not." your heart broke at his words and you feel your tears falling down slowly. You hate how you fucked up this beautiful moment with him. You just had to run your mouth like a loser, you said to yourself.

"B-Buc-"

"I told you don't call me that" his voice got louder a bit and you felt scared at his tone. You were so upset as more tears started to stream down your face.

"I-I'm sorry. I mean James." you sat up on the bed, going for the silk white covers to cover your body, you felt so ashamed and broken by his words and just wanted to leave him now. You pulled the covers over your body, covering yourself, then you faced him again. He's still staring at you with his arms crossed on his chest. You hate how good he looks right now.

"You know, doll, they say curiosity killed the cat." he looked very deep into your eyes, studying your facial expressions and body language. He knows you are longing for him and understands that what you said is out of jealousy. After figuring this out and connecting the dots, he felt absolutely ashamed of his reaction and regretted raising his voice to you like this. You don't deserve that. After that very beautiful moment you both shared, you deserve all happiness and all your concerns to be pushed away. He hated himself at this current moment. Seeing you, looking at him with sad eyes like he just betrayed you, and he felt like he did. He almost showed you the actual monster inside of him. He hated himself.

He sighed, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude or harsh on you like that. I just couldn't understand why would you say such an awful thing like that about yourself." he exclaimed, you breathed a little, and moved closer to him. "come here, please. Can I touch you?" his hands twitched as he moved this closer to you, you nodded while sniffing. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you on his lap, hugged you tightly, and kissed your forehead. You couldn't help but cry more. "Shhh, It's okay. I'm so sorry, принцесса. I didn't mean to upset you like that. I'm really sorry." he rubbed your arms and back softly while pulling his right hand up to wipe your tears. "Please, please, stop crying, baby. Fine, you can call me Bucky. You can call me whatever you like but please don't cry." he kept wiping the tears that keeps falling from your eyes and kissing your cheeks and lips.

"Really? Can I?" you sniffed and smiled shyly. He mirrored your smile immediately.

"Yes, you crybaby, you can." he kissed your lips and you kissed back while smiling. This was enough for you to know he shares the same feelings as you.

"And to answer your question, yes. You are the only one, принцесса. It was always you and will always be you. Only you." He pecked your lips softly, and you held his face in your hands and deepened the kiss. This is everything you need now as he just proved to you, you're the only one for him as he's the only one for you too.

You've always felt bad for him, as he didn't have any friend or anyone to make him happy or enjoy the good things in life and you've always promised yourself, if he just opened that door for you, you'll compensate him for all the sadness and darkness that took over his life. If he just gave you the green light, you'll speed into his life and bring him nothing but love and joy. You do love him that much and want him to always be happy.

"I love you" you murmured as soon as you broke the kiss, you pushed away all of your doubts and concerns and said to yourself that even if he didn't say it back or feel it back, that's okay. You just want him to hear it from you and to feel it. You just want him to see he's loved.

"You d-do?" his voice shaky and he looked at you with slightly wide eyes as he stopped rubbing your back. He stopped breathing for a moment as you said these magical three words that made him feel shocked and confused. How could someone actually love him? He was a cold-blooded monster, he thought.

"Yes, Bucky, I do. I love you so much," you said softly, you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly while kissing his neck, you don't care that his body is stiffened now and his breath is shaky, you are trying to comfort him as you're sure he hadn't heard these 3 words in a very very long time. He needed to hear them. "I love your lips, your arms, your hair, your neck, your eyes, your beautiful beautiful smile," you pulled your head back up and looked at him as your gaze softened at the way he was looking at you with those puppy cute eyes. "I love you, Bucky." you whispered against his lips as you kissed him deeply. You panicked slightly as he didn't kiss back but as you were considering pulling away, his grip tightened around you and he kissed you back harshly and so passionately, you are almost running out of breath.

It took him another moment to pull away and you both panted from how deep the kiss was. "God, Y/N. I love you. I love you so much. I'd literally die for you, моя любовь. I love love love love you." he sounded out of breath as his eyes drifted from your eyes to your lips in a very passionate way. you chuckled sweetly at his words and kept kissing him again. At this moment, all of your concerns and doubts from earlier have been buried deep into the ground and he finally gave you everything you've been wishing and hoping for. You felt like you were in heaven, you swore, you'd never been happier in your life.

For the rest of the night, you both did nothing but make love and sleep in each other's arms. The next morning, you had your best ever morning sex, with him buried deep inside of you and dragging his cock in and out of you like you were just a part of him. You felt so close to him than ever. He canceled all his plans and meetings for the next two days and kept ordering his men to bring you food and anything you want to the bedroom. He also ordered his men to bring you some of your clothes from your apartment in Brooklyn and promised to take you shopping for new clothes and lingerie sets since you're going to stay with him in his mansion. He gave you extra keys to every single house, apartment, and mansion he had that are scattered all over the world and told you they're now your houses too.

He showed you the world and made you his queen. Of course, he still wanted to keep you hidden and your relationship a secret as he explained to you how people could use you or hurt you to get to him and he'd literally murder every single living person if anything bad happened to you. You understood and respected that decision and didn't mind keeping your relationship a secret, actually, that turned you on more, to say the least.

You both, in front of his super soldiers' army and his Hydra superiors and affiliates, were the King and Queen of Hydra. He gave you the power and that title too, even though what you just wanted was him. Only him. You didn't mind nor care about his work or whatever he did, as long as he comes back to you in one piece and sleeps in your arms every night, then the hell with the world. He's your whole world now.

———————————————————————

tag list:

@boofy1998 @pattiemac1 @princezzjasmine @winters1917 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @monicaluski @runi1 @mooievis @stuffyownswrld

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky angst #bucky barnes mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky x you #buckynat #bucky barns fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #angst #bucky fluff #bucky and alpine #the winter solider smut

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

So, like a week or two after Eddie got chewed up, Metallica was playing in Indie, right? Eddie was full on complaining about it in the hospital while Steve listened to him. I mean, Eddie was in full on tears because he had saved up money to go, and now, because he's still healing, he can't go. Plus, the town still hates him even though the charges have been dropped. Steve hated to see the tears in his eyes, so he decided to do something about it. He made a call to his mother, whom he knew felt guilty about leaving him alone so often, so she owed him.

It took a couple of days after the concert for it to happen. Eddie was pouting even harder, and he had actually even cried because he had missed the concert. He was still pouting when Steve came in and excitedly told him to prepare himself. Eddie was about to ask him what he meant by that when in strolls. . .James Hetfield? Eddie thought he was having a stroke, but Steve assured him that he was not. The other members of Metallica followed him into the hospital room. James had laughed when Eddie asked politely if he could freak out for a bit which he did.

They told Eddie about how they heard about what happened, how he had been set up for murder, and had been hunted like a dog. They told him how they weren't surprised about that.

"People always assume the worst with people like us," James had said and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

They heard about his band and how Eddie was a really great guitar player. Eddie was still in disbelief that he was talking about his band with fucking Metallica, of all people. When they told him how awesome his band name was, he nearly died on the spot. They presented him with a t shirt, signed photos, and then the last but greatest present of them all. . . A replica of his guitar, the guitar he had tragically lost.

"Hey, do you mind if we fuck this up a bit with our autographs?" James had asked.

"Fuck! No! Go right ahead," Eddie had told him with excitement.

When they had left, much to Eddie's disappointment ("You can't keep them, Eddie,"), Eddie cradled the guitar in his arms like a baby. He even cooed over it. Steve could only watch and thought that, yeah, this was so much better than seeing him cry. Once the guitar had been put away safely and Eddie was resting comfortably, he frowned in confusion.

"I don't understand," Eddie said.

"Uh, understand what?" Steve asked.

"How did they know that I lost my guitar?" Eddie asked.

"Uh, okay," Steve said, blushing. He never thought he would tell Eddie he was the one who pulled the strings, did not think that through. "I may have called my mom because he owed me a huge favor, and she got in contact with Metallica's manager. I also told her about losing the guitar, and I guess she told them. Man, you were just so disappointed that I -,"

Steve had been cut off by Eddie pulling him in for a kiss. He had been so stunned, he didn't have time to react, and by that time, Eddie had pulled away. Eddie opened his mouth, probably to apologize, but Steve swooped in and kissed him. It was a hard, desperate kiss full of so many emotions that neither one of them could comprehend. They eventually broke apart to breathe. Eddie swung his legs over the side of the bed and fully sat up. He wasn't fully healed, but he was close enough to at least do that. Eddie grabbed Steve by his hips and pulled him closer.

"Eddie, what -," Steve started.

"Take off your pants," Eddie told him. "I'm going to fucking thank you, big boy."

#stranger things #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things s4 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #ficlet #stranger things fanfiction

[whorediaries-09]

so you pack your life away

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort. a/n- for the story's worth, reader was in gryffindor.

little train. series masterlist.

you crossed your leg over the other, stretching out your limbs. sirius handed you an ice cream before he sat down beside you on the park bench. the night had fallen, but somewhere within the quiet revering silence amongst the chilly breeze and sirius' presence made you lose your presence of mind, which further resulted in losing the track of time.

yet, it was nice to actually have company apart from your colleagues. also somebody who you remembered being a part of your youth.

'if you don't mind sirius, why are you wandering about here? i mean don't you want to rewind in the wizarding world?' sirius took a bite of his ice cream sandwich before answering you.

'i mean, the press is after me. i don't exactly want rita skeeter rushing about in the daily prophets. we all know how she is. i also read the recent articles she wrote about you, and save you, you've been absolutely crushed by her.'

'we all know how rita skeeter is,' you chuckled. sirius shook his head, agreeing with you, letting out a bark like laughter into the wind. it ruffled with his hair, tousling them. suddenly, he felt a pang tug at his throat.

'i wouldn't be here without you, i'm so grateful for you.' he said, taking your hand into his. your hand melted into his warm, rough and calloused touch. you nodded, staring into his deep gray eyes. the sparkle of life had been enlightened into the true sirius black gaze. and from within, you felt it slowly burning your heart. slow, calm and tepid. but you let it.

you let him escape his quiet treason.

'i told you, sirius, i stand for true justice. i believed in you. dumbledore betrayed you, i know.'

sirius felt his eyes pool with unshed tears as you talked to him softly, treating him like a person, not a deranged criminal. the voices in his head screamed horribly shrill and loud, as he escaped his quiet treason, and into your arms.

'how did you know it was not me? there have been countless prisoners with no trial. why me and not them?' the moment sirius spilled those words from his lips, you knew you'd been doomed. while you had been expecting the question at some point of time, you didn't know the time would come so soon.

'sirius, i was with you at hogwarts.'

'what! i don't remember you being there! and for what it's worth...you look younger than me...'

'you don't remember me because i am three years younger than you. so naturally, we never shared any classes. but what we did have in common was the quidditch team. i was on the quidditch team. i'm not sure if you remember, however i still owe my beater's skills to your teaching. you taught me a few significant steps and tricks.' sirius awkwardly glanced at your face, bubbling with curiousty.

'i remember your group- the marauders. the pranks, the mischief each and every one of you caught up. significantly, i remember remus. he used to tutor me, since i'd gotten too distracted with quidditch. he was quiet and seemingly timid, but i sensed their was some sort of mischief behind his facade. james who was the better one between the two them, at transfiguration sometimes joined. i think mcgonagall never asked james to tutor me because she knew he had a very low attention span. he was always fidgeting with the snitch. although i do think for the most part, james went to the library to solely woo lily.' sirius silently laughed, letting the words consume him. he noticed you'd carefully dodged their other friend, peter.

'and what about me? do you only remember me being your mentor at being a beater?'

'of course not, sirius. i remember a lot of things about you. especially about you, actually because i could never go a day without hearing your name. my friend had a huge crush on you and she wouldn't go a day without talking about you.' sirius grinned, sparing his sparkly white teeth.

'is that so? did that annoy you?'

'it did annoy me sometimes yes, but who didn't have a huge crush on sirius black at hogwarts? everybody had the hots for you back then. my friend initially became jealous when she learnt that you had been teaching me, so i decided to keep myself away from you and not be more than a sort of teacher and student. and a few days later, she asked you out and you declined because she was too young. and the feelings disappeared like poof.'

he laughed heartily at your articulate description. 'i also remember in my second year, something became very grave within your group. after a few years, the news broke that you had escaped and walburga black had disowned you. we never knew where you went, but by grace, i had guessed that you were staying at james'. the point is, you two were like two peas in a pod, almost like brothers. which told me everything i needed to know. you didn't kill him, no you couldn't. so, while studying the trial less cases for my examinations, yours was the most recent and the most deranged- and the most unjustified. i had my mind made up the moment went through it, that you deserved the freedom.'

he bit his lower lip, carefully sliding his front row of teeth upon his lower lip.

'you don't know me yet you did so much for me, i can never thank you enough.'

'you packed your life to move into a shit hole even when you didn't deserve it. if you think you owe me something, no you don't. the ministry owes you, sirius. the years of youth and mourning they snatched away from you, keeping you bound to a prison. you'd escaped one when as a child, but they tied you down again. the prejudiced fuckers will never understand the things you went through.' sirius felt the tears escape as you strengthened your grasp around his hand. you were spewing anger, hot and boiling which brimmed at the edge of your patience. you clenched your jaw as the silent breeze struck into his hair.

sirius wanted to calm you down. while he wasn't sure how to, he awkwardly moved closer to you, so his knee was brushing with yours. he freed his hand and cradled your face into his clasp.

'thank you,' he whispered, 'can i hug you?' he said, desperate to comfort you. more than you, perhaps he wanted to feel your touch - the same touch that had calmed him down during the trial. the same touch that had made him feel safe after being touch starved for so long. you nodded. his arms wrapped around your body, engulfing you into his warm, comforting embrace. your crumbled body within his arms felt like the serene touches of maa on his scalp as she rubbed coconut oil.

he had packed up his life, and for a fortnight, he thought he'd acquired the freedom he had ruined his life for. he had allowed the joys to relish him in warmth.

but when your arms wrapped around his body, pulling him closer, he felt a sliver of hope to unpack his life.

****************************************

original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

taglist (for series) - @urbansaint

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

****************************************

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius

[leclercarchive]

Charles Leclerc, the Ferrari driver tells his story: «I feel good only with the helmet on my head»

At 26, the young Monegasque has already entered the legend of Formula 1. Thanks to his cold blood and the audacity of a driving style that does not contemplate fear, Charles Leclerc has become "The predestined" for his fans. Since he was a child he loved red cars and with Ferrari he fulfilled his dream…

Almost 130 Grands Prix in Formula 1, 28 podiums, 22 pole positions and five victories: at 26, Charles Leclerc is already making history. His favorite driver is Ayrton Senna but «there are many I admire: Prost, Lauda, James Hunt, Michael Schumacher and Lewis Hamilton. However, Ayrton Senna (the Brazilian champion who died in a tragic accident at Imola in 1994, ed.), is my all-time idol. From what I was able to see in the documentaries that tell his story and by speaking with those who knew him in life, I discovered that he was a special person to say the least, not only behind the wheel - he was perhaps the best driver in history - but also as a human being." Leclerc's childhood is marked by a deep bond with his father Hervé (he bears his name on his helmet) who was also a pilot - «dad was my number 1 fan» – and by his untimely death in 2017. «I was four years old, I told my father that I wasn't feeling very well and didn't want to go to school. Of course I was pretending like all kids do. However, I don't know why, he indulged me and took me to the go-kart track of his best friend, Philippe Bianchi. Seeing other children running on the track, I wanted to try it too. For my first car I chose the color red. And I think I fell in love with this sport after just three laps." On that go-kart track Leclerc lives his dream of one day becoming a Formula 1 driver and there he meets his lifelong friend, Jules Bianchi, Philippe's son. In karting, Charles Leclerc collected one victory after another, also because "I didn't know the concept of braking". At 17 years old in 2014, he entered the “Formula Renault 2.0” with the Fortec Motorsports team. He took seven podiums and collected two victories, earning second place in the championship. In 2015 he moved to Formula 3 and, despite an accident on the Zandvoort circuit (Holland), which compromised the final position in the standings, and the death of his friend Jules Bianchi in July, after the accident at Suzuka on 5 October 2014, Leclerc he doesn't lose the desire to compete. «Formula 1 killed people I loved, but I can't help it», he declared some time later.

What was your first ever Grand Prix? «Macau in 2015. But I like to remember the first time I saw one. I was still a child, I had a friend whose apartment had a balcony overlooking the Monte Carlo circuit. Obviously I was already rooting for the red cars, even though I didn't yet know that they were Ferrari. It was simply my favorite color." In the 2016 GP3 season he won the title with the "ART Grand Prix" team, even if, during the last championship race in Abu Dhabi, he chose to retire. Does a pilot ever feel afraid? «I am a human being, even if I run at 300 kilometers per hour. Beautiful moments alternate with very difficult ones, I'm not a superhero. It was in 2017, when I thought I wouldn't be able to become a Formula 1 driver, that I felt a real feeling of fear." But it is precisely in 2017 that the turning point arrives. A year earlier Leclerc had taken part in the Ferrari Driver Academy. With the first free practice session of the British Grand Prix in 2016, he began his experience as a test driver for Haas and then for Ferrari. Over the course of the following year he became increasingly noticed, thanks to a series of victories - among them that of the FIA Formula 2 championship - and multiple tests of skill at the wheel of his car. In the 2017 championship he participated in four free practice sessions with Sauber, the first of which in the pouring rain on the Sepang circuit (Malaysia), and it was with the Swiss team that he became a Formula 1 driver. On board the Sauber C37, despite some difficulties, Leclerc demonstrates consistency and ends the 2018 season in 13th place in the drivers' standings with 39 points, voted "rookie" of the year. But what happens before a Formula 1 race? «Before running, a lot of tension builds up. I have been doing breathing exercises since I was a boy. They help me stay calm, so I can achieve a level of concentration that maximizes my potential. Preparation is 90% of the total work in a race." Before getting into the car there is also space for a ritual moment. «I only feel good when I wear the helmet and everyone comes out of the pit lane», he says, «the cockpit is like a nest, I don't feel any sensations, zero tension. There I relax while waiting for the race."

In September 2018, Scuderia Ferrari announced that the Monegasque driver would replace Kimi Räikkönen, alongside Sebastian Vettel. «I was on a boat in Monaco. I had put the phone on silent mode, I find the call from Maurizio Arrivabene (head of the Ferrari team ed.). I told the friend I was with to turn off the engines, that the head of Ferrari had called me and I wasn't hearing well. I understand that he wouldn't have taken me to Ferrari. It seemed a little strange that he called me to tell me, I was disappointed. Fifteen seconds later he called me back and told me he was joking. I attacked and dived into the sea, it all seemed so surreal. Me in Ferrari…". Even though his first time in Maranello dates back to a few years earlier as he reveals in the book “Le prodige” written by Rémi Boudoul: «I was 11 years old, but I didn't enter. I sat in the parking lot and imagined a structure similar to the one seen in “The Chocolate Factory”. With the Oompa Loompas running around." In 2018 his first race of the season in Australia ended with a fifth place, but the real affirmation came with the Bahrain Grand Prix, where he won his first pole position and finished the race in third place. The season continues with ups and downs. After a first victory in Belgium came the triumph on the Monza Circuit, in front of the delirious Scuderia Ferrari home crowd. Leclerc also arrived in pole position in Singapore and Russia, and ended the season in fourth place with 264 points, consolidating his reputation among the most promising talents in Formula 1. 2020 began with a second place in Austria. However, the Ferrari SF1000 demonstrates some limitations in subsequent races. Leclerc retires in Styria and ends up outside the points in Hungary. A bad accident in Monza, from which he emerged unscathed, represents a critical moment in that unspectacular year, which ended in eighth place in the drivers' standings.

The following year, the new Ferrari SF21 proved to be more competitive, allowing Leclerc - now at the Prancing Horse with Carlos Sainz Jr. - to achieve good results, including fourth places in Imola and Spain. In Monaco, he takes pole position but retires due to damage to the car before the race. His only podium came in Great Britain, finishing the season in seventh place in the drivers' standings. 2022 is more than positive. He wins the Bahrain Grand Prix, followed by a second place in Saudi Arabia and victories in Australia and Austria. He finishes in second place among the drivers, behind Max Verstappen. In 2023, with his SF23 single-seater, he achieved the second podium of the season in Austria, while in Great Britain he finished ninth. In Belgium, after some changes to the car, he gets pole and finishes third. In the Italian Grand Prix, in Monza, he started on pole and finished fourth. Beyond the races, twenty-six-year-old Charles Leclerc, just appointed ambassador of the Monegasque jewelery brand APM Monaco, tries to spend as much time as possible with his friends. «Ricardo, Alex, Thomas, Guillaume, Nico, Hugo, Joris. I'm happy with them, we go to the beach, to the restaurant, we play five-a-side football, we're all sporty and we train together. However, we have different lives, while they study, I live my passion. But I love racing, I love Ferrari." Ferrari which is not only synonymous with engines but also with fashion and Leclerc is a proud ambassador of the brand led by Rocco Iannone. «I often wear items from the Ferrari line, they are aerodynamic and the materials range from the more technical ones - which I am used to wearing every day in my work - to the more refined ones. I like that couture feel and above all the color that dominates in the Ferrari collections, a color that I don't think I need to specify...>>

#charles leclerc #article #l'officiel italy 2023

[sofoulandfairaday]

Thoughts on Wolfstar?

tldr: i used to enjoy it but the fandom ruined it for me.

the only wolfstar i really enjoy reading is angsty wolfstar, you see.

the thing is- i'm a bit of a prongsfoot truther. i think the two of them - sirius and james - were platonic soulmates. and i think that sirius' story, the themes of his character are not centred around romantic love/attraction. i'm fairly convinced that giving him a partner in the canon wouldn't have added anything to him, and perhaps even taken something away. i can see unrequited!prongsfoot (where sirius doesn't even realise that he's in love with james) as potentially canon.

and, to me, there are two main characteristics that a good wolfstar story has:

james was the most important person in both sirius and remus' lives

the two of them were deeply suspicious of one another after leaving hogwarts

i love the idea of the two of them getting together over their shared grief over losing james to lily in 7th year, each seeing so plainly the other's jealousy and not being able to name their own. i love the idea of a torrid love affair with tons of hate!sex during the first wizarding war because they firmly believe the other's the spy but they love each other. i love the idea of them reuniting in grimmauld and feeling as if they have to cling on to each other because they're the only thing the other has left of the best time of their lives - but they can't, they can't understand each other. sirius sees something blooming between remus and nymphadora and can't help but feeling cheated out of a friend yet. again. and why is he the only person that values friendship more than love?

i love the idea of them referring to their romance as a friendship still, even though no one else would call it that. sirius can't help but feel resentful that remus gets sent on order missions, remus can't help but resent sirius for the privileges he still - still, even as a convicted murderer, however falsely - has. remus is dirt poor, you guys. not many authors underline this properly. so he cannot help but resent someone who throws out ancient family heirlooms like it's nothing.

but. the main problem i have with wolfstar is the fandom. a whole fandom was born around it and i don't particularly care for it. i hate the tropes it upholds - extremely femme/submissive sirius & alpha moony is... it makes me mad on a visceral level, you guys have no idea, and i find it incredibly homophobic - and the way people in it act, the complete perversion of both their characters by people who've never even read the original source material. i don't care for the slander of dora's character either. i much preferred the sweater-wearing, tea-loving, shy remus and leather-jacket wearing sirius that was the fandom stereotype some years ago. it wasn't perfectly canonical, but it also wasn't ridiculous.

#sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #remadora #i'm not tagging this as anti because i don't see a reason to - but i will if i start getting Some Of You in my askbox. you know who you are

[myriadparacosm]

Opposite Hanahaki AU

I remember reading from a cute manga (need to find the name) where you have hearts appearing on your skin whenever you are in love, it's like an allergy and your body might shut down (not death but like you feel faint and all). I consider it as the opposite of Hanahaki because it's caused by your love (even if it's requited) because it makes your feelings obvious and a bit uncontrollable. It can leave you once you grow up but there is no real condition - you can be in love with someone, date them and more but the hearts might still be here. It's pretty common but still embarrassing.

There is probably more to use there but I'm not sure I remember everything.

ANYWAY JAMES POTTER WITH THIS HEARTS SHOWING OFF ALL THE TIME.

James first gets them when he meets Lily at Hogwarts and almost faints at the shock. It's really violent, which makes him think that Lily is his soulmate and all, so he needs medications and it stops the heart from showing. BUT IT COMES BACK WHEN HE FALLS IN LOVE WITH REGULUS BUT TRIES TO HIDE IT. He isn't embarrassed about the hearst and to be in love (this simp loves love) but Regulus is Sirius' brother, who knows how this will go, and he probably has /no chance/ and if he messes up then who knows how that will go.

Regulus got them because of James at the start of his first year and took a treatment right away but it never went away. He also doesn't want to test it so he takes them every day without a question; it's worse when your skin is paller than a bone. Because of that he got a bit of a heartless reputation (it's more rare to not have the condition once than never). He assumes James is still in love with Lily even without the hearts around anymore.

Remus of course has the hearts for Sirius, but he grows used to the feeling and loses the condition by itself because of years of pining and all- EXCEPT WHEN HE TURNS INTO MOONY WHO GETS HEARTS ALL OVER HIMSELF WHEN PADFOOT IS AROUND. Just a scruffy grumpy werewolf covered in hearts that you can see even with the fur because it's disparate and some spots stopped having fur because of the scar tissues.

Now Sirius is more than often the cause of someone getting these hearts and yes he takes it as a big compliment. He never got them and rants about how unique that is before he gets a violent attack when he spots Remus back for their fifth year and is almost taller than some seventh years. Sirius did have a small crush on him before but it never hit him until he teases Remus that everyone will try to climb him like a tree and oh Sirius is definitely up to climb and- He cracks his head on the Hogwarts' Express floor because of how violent the hearts appeared.

#hp marauders #marauders #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #remus loves sirius #pining disease #marauders headcanon #myriadparacosm

[sashaisready]

Chapter Fourteen - A new development

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again

Warning: Near car/pedestrian collision, angst! Bucky still being terrible, but don't worry - a taste of his own medicine is teased in this chapter..

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 15

Series Masterlist

It had been nearly a week and you hadn't heard anything from Bucky since That Morning. You had replayed the events over and over in your head but you still didn't know what you'd done wrong, how you'd gone from falling asleep in Bucky's arms with his tender whispers in your ear...to being unceremoniously barged out of his house with the offer of fifty dollars for your trouble. Your best bet was that he wanted to sleep with you after all your back and forth over the last few months, and now he'd achieved that, the mask had slipped and he had no reason to play nice. Another notch in his bedpost. Another item off his to do list.

You knew at the time you should've asked him outright what exactly had changed, but you were hurt and embarrassed, and you lashed out in anger like you always did. And you didn't want him to think you were weak and pining over him.

Wanda had been shocked by the evening's sharp left turn after she'd gone home. You had caught her up in the bakery and she was disgusted by Bucky's actions. She had stood there angrily frosting a birthday cake while you recounted what happened, uttering a series of curses under her breath in response. Some were in Sokovian – you didn't know what she said but could tell they were bad.

You were hurt. You knew sleeping with someone didn't mean you were exclusive or they owed you anything, but you expected a bit more kindness and respect – especially from someone you had got to know quite well over the last few months.

But maybe that was your own naivete, you knew what Bucky did for a living – it wasn't a stretch to imagine that he would be just as cold in his personal life too.

It was a relatively quiet morning in the bakery when the bell went. You looked up smiling ready to greet the customer when you felt a wave of nausea hit you as you saw who it was.

Bucky walked in...with a beautiful blonde woman on his arm. She was stunning. Of course she was. She smiled at you sweetly and you managed a small one back at her before your eyes flicked over to Bucky.

He was stoic, unreadable. You glared at him, doing your best to convey your anger to him without completely losing it. He gave you a smirk in return.

Asshole.

Bucky knew this was a risky game. He hadn't spoken to you since you stormed out of his home and he missed you. He didn't know what to say, how to make it right. He knew he should stay away, he'd tried, he knew that you were too good for him – but he couldn't resist. You were like a magnet he couldn't avoid. He knew you were angry and he wanted to apologise but his pride was getting in the way.

He had drafted countless texts but sent none of them, he frequently brought your name up in his contacts and tried to summon the courage to press the call button. He wanted to go back to how it was before, teasing each other, bantering and besting one another. He thought if he could bait you into an argument then he could draw you out again, rile you up and see that electricity in your eyes he loved so much.

And what better bait was there than another woman?

You cleared your throat and greeted them sweetly. "Hi, welcome to Pepper's Bakery. How can I help you today?"

Thankfully your voice betrayed none of your true feelings. That was years of customer service experience paying off.

"Oohh..." said the blonde. "I mean it all looks so good but I'm on a diet right now and shouldn't be eating sweets...I'm sorry, I'm probably the last person you want in your store!" she giggled.

You had no interest in being cold to the woman, no interest in punishing her because of Bucky's childish little games. She hadn't done anything wrong, and she seemed nice enough. No, there was only one person to be angry at here.

"Well if you're ever in the neighbourhood and having a cheat day you're always welcome here" you told her warmly.

She smiled back at you and nodded encouragingly as she looked over at the display cases. Over her shoulder you looked at Bucky. You kept your face frozen, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting worked up, but your eyes made it clear you were unimpressed.

"I'll take a couple of danishes, and a cannoli" he told you gruffly.

Prick. And what ever happened to 'please'?

Your hands began to build the pink box on autopilot and you wordlessly packed his order.

Bucky frowned. He was hoping for fireworks, to push you that little bit further and ignite that anger within you, resulting in his favourite back and forth. He wanted to see the fire from you which always sent a quiet thrill through his belly.

But no. Nothing.

Your face was neutral, there was no fight in you. No appetite to go toe to toe with him.

He realised suddenly that he had gone too far. You weren't angry. You were hurt.

His eyes searched yours as you pushed the box over the counter at him and he pulled out his wallet. He was almost trying to communicate with you telepathically, telling you his true feelings and that you were all he thought about. You only stared back at him defiantly, eyes narrowing as you handed him the card reader. Your mouth was a thin line of disappointment.

He tried to smirk to see if that would light the fuse for the reaction he so desperately sought but you merely dropped his gaze.

He pulled a hundred dollar bill out and slid it across to you but you grabbed it from him, crumpled it into a ball with your fist and flung it back at him. He flinched as it struck his chest, then swept it back into his wallet.

"That won't be necessary" you said coldly, eyes burning into him again.

He tried to say something but you cut him off.

"Thanks for your custom Mr Barnes" you deadpanned, making it clear that this interaction was over.

"And lovely to meet you" you said to his companion in a kinder tone.

She earnestly grinned back at you. "I'm Allegra by the way".

Allegra then gushed about how lovely the shop was, peacefully oblivious to the tension in the room.

Wanda watched nervously from her side of the store as the scene unfolded, examining your face. She knew you were hanging on by a thread.

Bucky opened his mouth to speak but closed it again quickly. He wanted to apologise, to take it all back. He thought about how you felt in his arms. How your moans had sounded in his ear. How thrilled he'd been to finally get to that point with you...and now he'd ruined it. Ruined everything. Destroyed the foundations of everything he'd built with you. Guilt and shame overwhelmed him but he still wore his stoic mask.

You just continued to glare at him as Allegra spoke, your brow furrowed. You felt nausea rising up inside you once more. His eyes looked different now to the smugness they'd reflected when he walked in. Was there...regret in there? Surely not. He was probably relishing your humiliation.

Allegra hooked her arm with Bucky's and guided him to the exit as she shot you a cheerful goodbye. Bucky followed meekly, watching you intently over his shoulder as he left the store. His eyes were on you for as long as possible until he disappeared out of view.

You waited a moment before your knees finally buckled and you crashed onto the counter as the tears finally broke the dam and began to fall. Wanda was on you in an instant, her arms wrapped around your torso as she nuzzled her head into your back, quietly soothing you.

*

You were feeling a little more together when you closed up, locking the doors and stepping out onto the street. You had cried a bit in front of Wanda, embarrassed for her to witness your vulnerability but grateful for her comfort. She had asked if she could do a spell to punish Bucky which cheered you up, but you declined, insisting she shouldn't waste her precious energy on such unimportant subjects. You had managed to power through the rest of the day, throwing yourself into work and distracting yourself with customers as the clock finally rolled around to closing time.

Your tears had dried but you still felt awful. Embarrassed. Hurt. You didn't expect to marry Bucky after your night together and you knew that neither of you had made any commitments to one another. Still, cancelling your date and rubbing another woman in your face at your workplace was uniquely cruel. You felt stupid for allowing yourself to get caught up, to have feelings for him, for entertaining the idea that he might like you too. It was clear now that you were nothing but a plaything to him. A toy to wind up and watch it go. Something to amuse him, a way to blow off steam between whatever hideous mob business he was getting up to in his 9-5.

You understood now.

And that Allegra woman he was with - she was the type of girl he wanted on his arm. Tall, willowy, beautiful. The type of woman who looked like she'd stepped off a fashion magazine. A walking Instagram filter. Not you, who was pleasant enough to look at and fun for a quick fuck, but not someone you want to show off - not beautiful. How stupid you were.

You were lost in your thoughts as you wandered towards home. But not so oblivious as to miss the black SUV parked across the street, as subtle as a pink sock in a drawer of white ones. You waved mockingly at it and it slowly rolled around the corner out of view, but you could still glimpse the back of it if you squinted. You knew he wasn't in it as he would've made an appearance by now. Just his goons inside, most likely. Was it not enough that he'd humiliated you, he had his little lemmings following you again??

Your hurt began to mutate into anger as all of your emotions twisted and fizzed within you. All of the fury and outrage you felt towards Bucky was now channelled like a laser beam onto this stupid car. You let your rage lead the way as you stormed towards it, determined to give the occupants a piece of your mind regardless of how big or terrifying they might be.

Any common sense evaporated as you marched into the street in pursuit of the SUV. In fact, you were so single minded that you didn't even notice the yellow taxi speeding towards you until you heard the screech of brakes and tyres squealing on asphalt. You turned at the last second and caught a glimpse of the driver's panicked eyes before you realised it was about to hit you, and it was too late for you to move...

You squeezed your eyes shut and braced for impact as a forceful pressure wrapped itself around your torso and yanked you onto the sidewalk. Suddenly you were on the ground, trembling as you realised you were looking at the sky - wondering where the car had hit you. You thought it would hurt more than this, was it a bad sign that it didn't hurt? Oh god, were you paralysed and that's why it didn't hurt?! Wait...something else had hit you...

A handsome man with sandy brown hair popped into your view, his forest green eyes filled with concern as he watched you carefully. You glanced at him, realising you were laying on your back in the street.

"You all good? That was a close one huh??" he said. His voice was friendly, warm.

He turned to the cab driver who had parked up and was watching you just as nervously.

"She just came outta nowhere...I tried to stop but...I mean if you hadn't been there..."

"It's alright" said the green eyed man calmly, cutting him off. "She's fine, she just had a shock. Don't worry, I'll make sure she's okay".

The cab driver muttered angrily as he stepped back into his car and pulled away.

"Do you think you can sit up?" asked the green eyed man.

A few passers-by were watching with morbid curiosity. The man extended his hand to you and you took it gingerly, pushing yourself up as he pulled you upright so you were sitting up on your knees. You blinked, looking down at yourself to check you were still in one piece. You certainly seemed to be. Just slightly winded by how you hit the sidewalk.

"I'm okay" you said nervously as you wiggled your fingers and toes to check for any pain.

"Oh good, phew".

He sounded genuinely relieved. And kind.

"Did you...save me?" you asked with trepidation.

He smiled. "Saving is a bit of a strong word but right place right time I guess" he grinned. "I'm just sorry you had to eat sidewalk in the process".

You felt yourself soften at his caring smile, all of your anger and upset about Bucky suddenly gone. He seemed...nice. Really nice.

"Thank you. Really, thank you" you smiled bashfully as you stood up, brushing yourself down. "If you hadn't been there..."

You trailed off as you looked him up and down. He was dressed casually in a red leather jacket and dark jeans. A far cry from Bucky's expensive tailored suits. You could tell he was in good shape though, sturdy and strong. Handsome...

"I'm Peter" he said happily as he extended a hand to shake. "Peter Quill".

You took his hand and shook it shyly, giving him your own name in return.

"Of course you have a beautiful name too, why I am not surprised?" he said.

You blushed at the compliment, visibly taken aback by his forwardness. You weren't used to men picking you up so openly. It was a refreshing contrast to Bucky's little games – not having to wade through words and implications and figure out what exactly was meant.

He screwed his face up in embarrassment. "Oh God. I'm sorry. That was cheesy..." he said, his voice pained.

You chuckled, feeling yourself smile widely for the first time all day. "Actually it was very sweet" you countered.

He grinned at you, his eyes drifting over your dungarees. You felt a bit underdressed in your work attire, covered in flour and icing stains, suddenly wishing you were a bit more presentable.

"I like your overalls" he said.

"Thanks" you replied, fingers pawing nervously at the buckles. 

"I work at Pepper's Bakery down the street. Although I did realise earlier I'm wearing a yellow t-shirt with them today so I look a bit like a Minion..." you joked.

Peter's eyes widened with amusement. "Oh my god...you kinda do..." he spluttered.

You laugh uproariously. "You're not supposed to agree??" you snap incredulously.

"I'm sorry but it's true. But the minions are super cute right? So you fit right in..."

He shot you a wink and you felt a surge of warmth in your stomach. This was exactly the balm you needed after a horrible day.

"Pepper's huh? Love that place" he grinned.

You light up at that. "You do?? Oh that's great to hear. Yeah it's a nice place to work".

He nodded earnestly. "Best danishes in the city, in my humble view".

"I'll have to save you a few when you next come by. Y'know, least I can do for saving my life and all". The words seductively roll off your tongue before you even realise it.

You stop dead, wondering if you've been too forward with him. Bucky had really thrown you for a loop when it came to interacting with men. But Peter's grin just grew wider and he leaned in closer, his face near yours.

"And tell me...do you get much downtime? Time away from the bakery? Or is it all work and no play?"

His voice had dropped an octave as he moved in and his eyes locked onto yours. You find yourself instinctively leaning towards him too as your heart beats heavily in your chest. You're so close you could almost...kiss him.

"I do work shifts so my days off can be different. But I always have at least two off a week" you smile.

"Oh that's good, so a lotta free time to spend with your boyfriend then?" he asks coyly.

You giggle and your face flushes at yet another direct question. "No boyfriend, currently..."

Absolutely no-one, actually.

He nods again. "So, hypothetically...if I were to ask you out...you'd be able to meet me for dinner one evening?"

"Absolutely, hypothetically. But maybe we should stay away from cabs" you quip.

He laughed. "Sure. But I may need some pointers on where to go as I have no idea what minions eat..."

You exchange smiles as he passes his phone to you to add your number, which you give him gladly. You chat for a bit longer and suddenly Bucky feels like a distant memory. You've even completely forgotten the reason for your impulsive stroll into traffic.

As you say goodbye to Peter and practically skip home with glee, the SUV emerges from its poor hiding spot and follows you from a safe distance. In the passenger seat Clint pulls out his cell, hitting the first number on his speed dial.

"Boss...uh, a new development for you..."

*

#mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #sweet and sour fic

[bulkyphrase]

Stucky for Steve Stans

I feel like I don't rec enough Stucky, so please have this list of some of my favorite Steve-forward Stucky fics!

Not a Perfect Soldier by TooManyBattles (Skarabrae_stone) (@captaintoomanybattles) (Mature | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | 93,354 words)

Summary: In a world where HYDRA was wiped out in the '40s, Steve is found by the Army rather than SHIELD. General Thaddeus Ross wants a perfectly obedient super-soldier at his command, and to that end, he sets out to break Steve to his will. As Steve struggles to come to terms with all he has lost, his life in captivity is only made bearable by the presence of another prisoner-- another super-soldier known only as "Soldat". Then the Avengers strike a deal with Ross to "borrow" him for missions, and Steve is faced with a team who dislikes him, an organization he doesn't trust, and the question of what he's willing to do to escape Ross's clutches.

Lessons in Normality by relenafanel (@relenafanel) (Explicit | No Archive Warnings Apply | 38,002 words)

Summary: Things Steve knows about his boyfriend Bucky: How he looks with his face relaxed in sleep. That he can perfectly flip pancakes. The way he’s open about things Steve is still adapting to, like therapy and depression and sex toys and being a millennial. The way he laughs with his mouth wide open and his eyes squinted, and the cheerful way he cheats at cards and loses at laser tag. The way he seduces Steve with a knowing glint in his eye. The way Steve responds to it, stronger each time, taken by his beauty and competence and snark and compassion (or the compassionate way he boots Steve in the ass when he needs a push). Things Steve doesn’t know about his boyfriend Bucky: That he’s an undercover operative gathering intel on Hydra, SHIELD, and which Steve is affiliated with. Otherwise known as The Honey Pot AU

I Remembered You Were Mine by hobbitdragon (Explicit | Rape/Non-Con | 4,455 words)

Summary: Steve awakes in a strange place with a familiar face standing over him. He has no idea where he is or how he got there, but at least Bucky is with him. Also available as a podfic read by Tipsy_Kitty (@tipsyxkitty)

More below the cut!

Demon Seed by SucculentHyena (@succulent-hyena) (Mature | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | 92,478 words)

Summary: [Transcript 00:11:48] MS: You were with him the most throughout the course of events, both before and after. Your account could shed light on something we may have missed. JB: What difference will that make? MS: It could make all the difference. Captain Rogers’ case is unprecedented, he’s the most intact victim we’ve ever recovered- JB: [laughing] You call that intact? -Excerpt of Interview with Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes regarding the Incident.

How Can You Go On With Such Conviction? by Jaune_Chat (@jaune-chat) (Explicit | No Archive Warnings Apply | 23,085 words)

Summary: Steve Rogers is a professional alpha with an unfortunately famous name. A veteran who specializes in people with top-secret clearance, he’s been having some particularly interesting clients lately. This brings him to the attention of SHIELD, who think an alpha like him could be just the person to help a very ill Asset they have. But Steve has more up his sleeve than just one set of skills when it comes to helping the people he cares for.

Ring the Bell Backward by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (@dsudis) (Teen And Up Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | 13,234 words)

Summary: "I know how it is," Wanda said. "Being half of something. I would go anywhere if I knew he was there waiting for me." Also available as a podfic read by sallysparrow017

only living boy in new york by beardsley (Mature | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | 2,683 words)

Summary: Steve wakes up in a VA hospital in Manhattan, and nothing is the same.

darling heart, i loved you from the start (but that's no excuse for the state i'm in) by voxofthevoid (@voxofthevoid) (Teen And Up Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | 19,727 words)

Summary: “I thought you’d make a terrible Nazi but turns out you’d make a terrifying one instead.” The year is 2012. Loki has vanished with the Tesseract, and Manhattan is a blazing wreck. A very tired Steve Rogers goes home and meets another very tired Steve Rogers. Or, the one where Steve saves the mind stone for last and decides to fuck the timeline beyond all recognition, which regrettably involves crawling delicately up Hydra's asshole and less regrettably involves showering a very confused Bucky Barnes with affection.

On a Pale Horse by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) (@leveragehunters) (Teen And Up Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | 25,765 words)

Summary: Fast and fierce, the Horse Guard protect the Kingdom and its people, and they welcome anyone into their ranks-noble, commoner, or peasant-so long as they can ride a horse like they were born to it. Guard Barnes—Bucky—has come to the Kingdom's largest horse fair to find a new horse. He's supposed to choose from one of the approved horses; instead he finds himself buying a tall, skinny, angry stallion with the ridiculous name of Steve. Bucky can't leave him behind, but he's nothing like what Bucky's looking for and everything Bucky doesn't want. But Bucky's more right than even he knows because Steve's not a horse at all. He's a man under a curse, victim of a powerful sorcerer's temper and magic, and he's bound to never, by action or deed, reveal what he truly is. It's gonna be one hell of a ride. Also available as a podfic read by Tipsy_Kitty (@tipsyxkitty)

Steve Rogers Is (Not) A Good Influence by attackofthezee (noxlunate) (@attackofthezee) (Teen And Up Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | 4,181 words)

Summary: Steve’s left staring at the kid- Peter, his brain helpfully reminds him. The kid is staring back. “So, you’re, like, Captain America, huh?” Peter asks, and he looks a little starstruck but less so than he did when he’d stared at Tony Stark’s jet taking off. “Uh, yeah.” Steve says, staring hard at a spot just past the kid’s shoulder as he shoves his hands as deep as they can go into the pockets of his jeans. “Call me Steve.” “Cool.” Parker breathes, and Steve tries not to think about just how badly this is going to go. Aka Steve Rogers' American Tour Of Waiting For His Brainwashed Boyfriend To Come Back And Blowing Up Hydra is interrupted when Tony Stark dumps Peter Parker into his lap.

cascades. by orange_crushed (Mature | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | 152,138 words)

Summary: “Holy shit,” Howard says, crackling through the speakers. “You alive in there?” Lying is a sin, of course, but Steve’s not sure what else he can do. He’s already lied to the government and Bucky and God Almighty; and himself, himself most of all. He ought to tell the truth. That he’s not quite what they hoped for. That perhaps they should put him back into the ocean. “Probably,” he says, instead, listening to Howard’s tinny laughter; and waits for the blast doors to unlock. Also available as a podfic read by quietnight (@quietnighty)

Into That Good Night by Nonymos (Explicit | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence | 73,540 words)

Summary: Steve Rogers has lived for entirely too long—long enough to see the world's end. The heroes are gone, and the Earth is pushing what's left of mankind towards the exit. But when a makeshift team rises from the ashes, when a mysterious presence all but drags Steve there, he begins to think there may be hope yet. As they shoot for the stars one last time, Steve will get proof yet again that the future is nothing if not an echo of the past.

How to Woo the Winter Soldier by writeonclara (@writeonclara) (General Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | 21,570 words)

Summary: “I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said. “What,” Natasha said. “What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier. “Steve, no,” Clint groaned. Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier. Also available as a podfic read by Akaihyou (@akaihyou)

Bait and Switch by galwednesday (@galwednesday) (Teen And Up Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | 2,650 words)

Summary: "Post-action tacos?” Tony suggested. “I’m thinking that place by Fordham. BattleBot, you in?” “Can’t,” the Soldier said, typing something into his phone. “I have a date.” Tony stopped talking for an entire three seconds. “You. Have a date.” The Soldier looked up and blinked, clearly nonplussed to find Sam and Tony both staring at him. “Yes.” “With who?” “My boyfriend.” “You have a boyfriend. You have a boyfriend?” Tony looked like he’d just walked into a lamppost, and then the lamppost had handed him a birthday present. Also available as a podfic read by Nendian

#stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel fic rec #whether or not a story is steve-centric is based purely on vibes so ymmv #please imagine me going through my bookmarks one by one konmari-style and trying to see if they sparked steve feels #also my city used to have a 'biscuit-forward' restaurant and i miss it so much #but it added '[thing]-forward' to my vocabulary and i'm not even sure that's a common and understood construction?

[briyourmotherdown]

cool water ★ part I

James Hetfield x fem!reader

★ everyone is running from something ★

Words: 6.7k

Warnings: i know nothing about arizona and it shows. VERY incorrect timeline. mentions of rehab and alcoholism. james is a moody prick. 18+ in the future but part I is PG minus some swearing.

A/N: so i'm asking you all, please, PLEASE be kind to me because this is the first fic i've written in well over a year and the first metallica one I've ever posted. this is so unbelievably self indulgent it's insane. title named after a marty robbins song because that's where this whole idea stemmed from. i tried not to use y/n because i know some people hate that jhskjfhkjhfthftdhftkj. also i really really hope the fact that rehab is in here isn't a trigger or upsetting to anyone!!! it just makes sense for the plot. it's also very inspired by the some kind of monster documentary. this will probably be a shorter fit made up of a few parts but it may take a while since i'm literally about to graduate uni and i'm drawing in assignments. anyways i hope you enjoy <3

parts: (1), (2)

★

  A few states over, a little over a thousand miles and a few days long trek away, lies a life– packed crudely into a beat up Subaru with too many miles on the metre to go about adding another thousand. The air conditioning unit cracked out one state back, leaving only the rolled down windows to offer any sort of reprieve against the Western American summer heat. The unknown lies in the interstate ahead, yellow lines and road signs guiding you closer to your next destination. Only the front windows are open, the rear windows obstructed by precariously stacked belongings in unsealed cardboard boxes and garbage bags balanced against the glass. To roll them down would mean losing a good chunk of your clothing. 

   A map is sprawled out open on the passenger seat, red lines and circles marking the last stretch of your journey into Yuma County, Arizona. Golden light pours over countless acres of sprawling farmland ahead of you, the setting sun glaring into your eyes beneath your sin visor as you drive with one hand on the wheel and the other propping your head up against the open window. Your yellow Subaru is the only vehicle for miles, alone on the barren road as the sky fades into an inky blue. It’s eerie, being this alone. Eerie as you turn down yet another country lane, rolling the windows up. Eerie as you make sure the doors are locked and the gas tank full. Eerie for a girl who’d only left the city twenty-four hours prior, where such silence and solitude was such a rarity that you never stopped to consider what it felt like to actually be completely alone. 

   The night is still when you reach a stop sign, the hiss of crickets and cicadas audible even from inside the car. There’s no breeze that rustles the trees, nor a cloud to taint the clarity of the starry night sky. You feel as though you should be quiet and hold your breath, goosebumps raising on your skin. They only begin to subside when your headlights illuminate a sign reading Palo Verde Ranch. 

   Tires kick up dust as you roll down the tree-lined passage, inching closer and closer to where you will spend the next summer, checking the map one more time and breathing a sigh of relief when the trees part way to an opening. The ranch and lodgings look the same as the pictures in the brochure you were given, apart from being shrouded in a heavy darkness from the night. The porch lights are on, along with a few lamp posts circled by moths and mosquitoes. Pulling into an empty space next to a pick-up, you kill the engine and rest your head back against the headrest. The roar of the crickets seem even louder as you sit silently in the driver’s seat. 

   With a few final taps on your steering wheel with your fingers, you heave yourself from sitting position and stretch your aching legs, lifting your arms above your head before grabbing your suitcase from the backseat and forgoing the rest until tomorrow. It’s far too dark to go about it now. Boots crunch on gravelly dirt as you make your way to the lodging house, reading the brochure once more to check where the key is kept. It lays underneath a small terracotta pot, placed upside down and completely indiscrete. It makes you smile to yourself when you lift it up to examine it against the porch light– a small, metal cactus keychain hanging from it. You smack a mosquito from your arm as you unlock the door. 

   With a creak, the door opens up into the lodging house, though to you it seems more like a bungalow that had been converted into some sort of bed and breakfast. There’s a small kitchen to your left, under-cabinet lights casting an amber glow over the linoleum countertop and laminate floors. You take note of the humming refrigerator before turning to your right to examine a quaint sitting area, equipped with a floral printed sofa straight from the 1970s and a chestnut bookshelf housing a sparse assortment of books and magazines. It reminds you slightly of a waiting room– pretending to be lived in as to put you at ease. 

   Straight ahead lies the hallway, two doors on the left-hand side and three on the right, one of which has been left ajar. Upon further inspection, with slow, easy steps, you come to realise that it’s the bathroom, nose scrunching up slightly at the prospect of having to share one bathroom with multiple other people. On every door is a hand painted number, accented by flowers painted on in pastel colours. Very Bohemian, you note, eyeing the beaded curtain that hangs in the windowsill of the window at the end of the hall. Dim light spills from underneath doors three and four, but the other two remain dark. 

   Your room number is two. 

   Opening the door, you flick the light switch on before closing it behind you, a small puff of air escaping from between your lips as you take in the room. It’s cozy– genuinely, unlike the sitting room from before. It nearly reminds you of the room you’d grown up in, or, at least spent the earliest years of your childhood in. A golden oak bed sits against the wall in one corner of the room next to the window, fitted in cream and pale green floral patterned sheets. There’s a dresser-vanity and a wardrobe of the same golden oak, and a small nightstand next to the bed. On it beneath the small tiffany lamp lies an unopened note and a small plush teddy bear. 

   Tears fog your eyes as you sit on the edge of the bed and drop your suitcase at your feet. It feels so familiar– like a distant memory of a time in your life where things weren’t so turned upside down. A time when you weren’t running from something. Clutching the teddy bear against your chest, you open the note– a sweet, handwritten one from the owner of the land, welcoming you to your home for the summer. It tells you of breakfast in the main house at 10am, that there are fresh towels in the wardrobe, and that the vanity drawers tend to be a bit fiddly. 

   With a watery sigh, you blink up at the ceiling to clear your cloudy vision, flopping backwards onto the bed.

★

   James knew that he needed a distraction. 

   He knew better than to be around all the same people and places from how he was before. Breathing the same California air he knew and once loved now feels too thick in his lungs, like some sort of poisonous gas. 

   He knew better than to be around reminders. 

   Due to his therapist’s orders, James was to go somewhere different for a little while. In his words, to “relax, be at one with nature”. He had spread a pile of pamphlets across his desk, closing his eyes and laying his pointer finger down on the first one it came in contact with. Arizona didn’t seem to appeal to James’ bandmates as much as it did to his therapist. They had a hard enough time communicating as is, too many alcohol-fueled yelling matches only worsened by the unmade upcoming album that loomed over their shoulders. James wasn’t sure how he could make the album to begin with, not while he was walking this tightrope. If he was constantly teetering on the edge, how could he be a productive member of the band? 

   Part of him didn’t want to go. Running away from it all felt cowardly, as though he’s weak for not being able to handle what once was so normal. A few drinks at the bar with friends turned into something else, something monumental. Gigs, rehearsals, afterparties, bar to bar to bar to bar. People who once gave him comfort now only serve as reminders of how he has ended up. 

  His PA booked his flight and had his truck sent to meet him at the airport. His intentions were clear– he would spend a few months working on the ranch away from anything that might tempt him, and then he would return home in autumn and attempt to clean up the mess he had left behind. The mess in question haunted him on his flight, tension aching behind his eyes as he rubbed at them. Divorce papers. A band that might hate him, left hanging and waiting for him to get his shit together so that they can release another album. Loose ends, after loose ends. Mouth set in a straight line, he realises he’s clenching his fists, blunt nails pressing into his palms. 

   Settling in was fairly easy. There was only one suitcase to unpack, clothes folded neatly into the dresser and notebook placed haphazardly on the nightstand– blank paged and unopened. For a few days it was only him in the lodging house, resting and rising in silence, eating a bowl of cereal by the kitchen window before heading out to work on the ranch with Wayne, the owner’s husband. Wayne is a shorter man, or at least much shorter than James, with salt and pepper hair he keeps hidden beneath a straw hat, and a laugh that often turns into a smoker’s cough if your joke is good enough. Wayne is friendly and a hard-worker, unafraid to put James to work too. 

   A few days later, a couple more lodgers began filtering in, two men who based on their accents, come from the south. They didn't spare James a second glance, and James gratefully did the same in return. There was no need for making friends.

   When you arrived it shook up his routine. He now had to wait for his morning showers, entering only after you had spent far longer than he would’ve liked, only to be met with fogged up mirrors and the scent of vanilla and jasmine. He could hear music playing gently through the thin walls, some shit from the 70s that he wasn’t into, and he’d have to put up with the way you’d softly hum along. Truthfully, he avoided bumping into you at all costs. There was no concern of seeing you at breakfast or dinner– he skipped them in favour of some cheap crappy microwave meal– and he worked more on the ranch with Wayne while you settled into tending the vegetable garden. 

   Avoiding you seemed like a waste of time, however, because you didn’t notice him anyway. You always seemed too lost in your own head, focussed entirely on pulling weeds to notice him walking back and forth by you, carrying bags of feed. He didn’t offer a greeting, or even his name, but then again neither did you, and he was more than happy to keep his distance. 

   Your name only came up one day as James was sitting with Wayne. They’d both spent hours of the morning tending to the stables in the intense heat, James doing most of the heavy-lifting, and took refuge under the shade of a large tree. After collecting a few random chopped logs and sticks, James took out his pocketknife and began carving. Wayne spoke of plans to make his wife a wooden sculpture of a cactus for their front porch, with James silently shucking away at the wood to bring it to a sharp point. 

   In the distance you’re harvesting crops from the vegetable garden, wearing denim cutoffs and a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. From here James thinks he can spot the image of Garfield printed on the front. He stares for longer than he should, eyes trailing down the expanse of your bare legs, and admittedly, over your behind when you turn and lean down to grab a shovel. 

   Wayne breaks through the intensity of his gaze by saying a name, the glass shattering when James averts his eyes and returns to sharpening the wooden shiv with care. His finger slips against the grain and he winces, plucking the splinter from his thumb, “That girl. She’s here from Seattle.” 

   He remains silent, lip twitching with a hint of annoyance at the older man’s intrusion. Yet he lets your name settle in his mouth, silently testing the way it feels on his tongue. Aware that he was caught, he keeps his eyes trained intensely on his craft to avoid Wayne’s gaze. 

   “Pretty, ain’t she?” Wayne muses, stripping bark from an ash log and looking at you in the distance as you pick weeds from the cauliflower beds, “We don’t usually get people like her out here,” he turns to James, simpering, “Don’t usually get rockstars ‘neither.” 

  He turns away to continue stripping the log and James uses the moment to steal another look at you. The sun beats down on your back and you wipe sweat from your brow with your bare forearm, pushing a few loose hairs back that had fallen from your ponytail. There’s a half empty sack of compost on the ground by your feet that stains the tips of your gloved hands. You look tired, standing back from the garden bed to study your handiwork before tilting your head all the way back to soak up the sun, hands on your hips. When you turn and glance in James’ direction, squinting your eyes through the heat mirage, he averts his gaze, once again all too aware of Wayne and the way the man lifts his hand to wave dramatically at you. 

   He doesn’t look up to see if you wave back. 

   He sees you again that late afternoon, in the same way he always sees you— in small vignettes, in short scenes that make him think momentarily that you might just be a figment of his imagination. He sees you walking past him with a crate full of lettuce, too focused on not dropping any from the heaped pile to pay him any notice. He sees you when he walks by the wire fence, where you’re being walked through the steps of feeding the chickens in the coop. He sees you now, entering the same house he’s staying in, the same one he’s walking to, only a few paces behind. 

   But still, you seem to pay him no mind, as if he’s a ghost. He thinks he might be one if it weren’t for the acknowledgment of Wayne and his wife, Marie. The other workers don’t much like him, interpreting his silence as him being a stuck up rockstar. He wonders if it’s for any reason that you don’t notice him. Does he skulk around too quietly? Sure, he’s not been the most conversational since he’s been here, but he’s sure you would’ve at least noticed him.

   It really bugs him. 

   For a man whose profession is to be seen and to be heard, he typically really likes fading into the shadows in his everyday life. There had been too many days of butting heads with Lars, too many arguments with his ex, too many paparazzi, too many expectations of him. He was only one man, and he knew he was too fucked up to be a role model for anyones kids. Before he entered rehab, he enjoyed the anonymity of a small town bar and the way no one knew who he was there. If they did, they didn’t care, clinking pints with him over the bar as if he was just another one of them. And even though Wayne and Marie do talk to him and put him to work, they still treat him like all the others staying on the farm for the season. And he does enjoy the fact that Wayne and Marie seem to pay him no mind, as well as the other workers. 

   But when he really thinks about it, he doesn’t like slipping into the shadows as much as he thought he did. Perhaps it’s his ego talking, but he at least likes being acknowledged. 

  It was as if you didn’t even know he was there. 

  It bugs him as he opens the door behind you after you’d let it close, watching you saunter down the hall and into the room only a door away from his own, not offering a glance as you shut it behind you. It bugs him as he makes his way into his own room, sitting at the edge of the bed and rubbing his hands over his tired face. It bugs him even more when he hears your door open and close again, squeaking on its hinges, followed by the click of the bathroom door and the rush of the shower turning on. 

   You claimed the shower before he could, as you always seem to do. Only today he had worked hard, back sore and legs aching with strain. Annoyance twitches at his lip but he tries to brush it off, taking deep breaths, groaning lowly as he lays back onto the bed. The day's work sits heavily in his bones and he shifts uncomfortably. He feels grimy, a layer of sweat having dried on his skin, sticking the Arizona desert sand to the hairs on his arms. He grimaces and tries to brush some off.

   Minutes pass while he waits for you to finish in the bathroom, then more, and after thirty minutes he’s grown more and more impatient with you, rising from the bed and storming into the hallway. He doesn’t take any time to notice that the shower has stopped running, the blood rushing too loudly through his ears, and as he’s about to aggressively rap his knuckles against the door, it swings open. You jump back with a start when you see him, his fist raised and face twisted in irritation. 

   Momentarily, he’s stunned, face contorting into an expression that matches your own as his eyes trail over your form– wet hair against your shoulders and fresh skin dewey with what he assumes is lotion. You’re gripping your towel tightly in one hand, the other clutching a toiletry bag. 

   As he lowers his hand, he realises that this is the first time you’re noticing his existence. Wide eyes glimmer up at him shyly, lips parted from the shock of opening the door to a man standing angrily directly on the other side. 

   With that realisation comes another—actually, two realisations that took him possibly too long to register– the fact that you’re almost naked, and he’s blocking your way out of the bathroom. Embarrassment nips viciously at the back of his neck, tinting the tips of his ears pink as he takes a step back. 

  James has never been good with embarrassment. His ego always gets in the way or gets him into trouble. Sure, it has won him many arguments, much to the chagrin of his opponents, but it has also gained him the title of an egotistical asshole to many people. Whenever James becomes embarrassed, the outcome is always the same– confrontational, cruel, unnecessary words he doesn’t really intend to say bubble up in his throat before he has any chance to stop them. 

   “Knowing that there’s only one bathroom, you should be more aware of how fucking long you take.” 

   He snaps his mouth shut the second the words are out, lips pressing together in a firm line. You raise your eyebrows at him, taken aback at the gruff rudeness of his tone. 

   You want to say something. Some witty comeback or even something to match his hostility, but your tongue struggles to find any words. Words have never come easily to you in the first place, always choosing to be quiet unless you’re around people you know, but they especially don’t come when you’re half naked and an angry, 6’1” man is towering over you. 

   All you can muster is a small, “I’m sorry.” as you push past him and retreat to your room. 

  James is paralysed in his spot, the increasingly familiar scent of vanilla and jasmine wafting over him from the bathroom as you walk away, listening to the door slam behind you. He’s not sure how long he stays standing in place, fists clenched at his sides with frustration directed at both you and himself. With a defeated sigh, he locks himself into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Once he’s stepped in he wastes no time in pressing his forehead against the cool tile, cursing himself for not being able to hold his tongue. 

   James really wants to spend the evening the same way he’d been doing, skipping dinner and smoking a cigar out on the front steps, but Marie had taken notice and when she bumped into him earlier in the day, had all but forced him into promising to come to dinner tonight. It didn’t sound appealing at all. It felt like fucking summer camp, having to sit around a big table with everyone staying at the ranch and talk about your day and the work everyones’ been doing. He’d quite honestly rather starve. 

   It didn’t help that he assumed you would be there. 

   He had made up his mind that he disliked you. The annoyance of  the way you’d practically ignored him for a week seems to only have increased with the duration of your shower. It was like you had no consideration for anyone else and didn’t look past the tip of your nose. He didn’t want to eat at the same table as you for that reason, is what he told himself. Not because he saw you in your towel and was so unnecessarily rude to you, no– James doesn’t do embarrassed. 

   He’s taken a nap directly after his shower, waking up even groggier and in an even worse mood, throwing on clean clothes and making his way down to the main house where Marie would be making dinner. The front door is already open when he gets there, and he takes an already exasperated breath before entering, 

   The smell that meets him is already mouthwatering, as much as he hates to admit it, and for a moment it makes him question why he’d skipped out on dinner for the past week. Wayne greets him as he walks in, already sitting around a large wooden table with a few men he recognises from around the ranch. Wayne has a cigar attached to his mouth, bobbing as he talks. 

   “James!” He exclaims, raising his hands in the air to greet him warmly, “Come on in, you should meet my guys.” 

   James nods curtly, having already met them in passing and discovered they didn’t much like him. But he puts up with it for Wayne’s sake, standing over the table but not sitting down, nodding in acknowledgment as he introduces everybody. They seem nice enough, greeting him with smiles, apart from two men at the end of the table who don’t so much as return James’ nod. They’re Dylan and Wes, the other two lodgers in the house. They offer him forced smiles, but James can see that the second Wayne turns his head to speak to someone else, they narrow their eyes in his direction. For a moment he wonders if you’d met them– if they treated you in the same way or if you hadn’t even noticed them in the same way you did him. 

   With that thought, Marie comes bounding in, wielding a wooden spoon in one hand, “James!” she grins, “I’m so pleased you came,” 

   She diverts her attention to Wayne, smacking him on the shoulder with the wooden spoon and scolding him in Spanish. The cigar between the man’s lips threatens to fall, but miraculously remains sturdy as he says something back, a sheepish expression on his face. 

   Marie rolls her eyes and turns back to James, “You, help me in the kitchen because my bum of a husband apparently has better things to do.” 

   Any other time James may have cringed at the idea– he’s not the best chef– but now, as he turns to glance at Dylan and Wes who stare at him with a look of contempt, he takes the out and follows Marie into the kitchen. 

   The moment he enters, his eyes land on you where you stand chopping vegetables at the butcher’s block island. You’re not looking at him yet, too focussed on dicing a tomato, and he takes a second to look at you. Your hair has dried, thrown back into a ponytail while you’re cooking, and you wear a white cotton sundress with thin straps that contrast against your skin. It’s different to how he’s seen you dressed, in denim cut-offs and cowboy boots, and for a moment he’s halted in the doorway to watch you. 

   “Could you shuck this corn?” Marie asks James, and your eyes finally snap up to look at him, trailing over his attire before you quickly go back to chopping. 

   He clears his throat with a small sure, taking his place across from you at the butcher’s block. You don’t dare to look up at him again, hoping that he doesn’t see the blush that tints the tops of your cheeks. 

   “You’re both very quiet, you know that?” Marie laughs, stirring a pot both metaphorically and literally, “Come on! Talk to each other.” 

   A short silence follows, painful and uncomfortable and it makes your skin crawl, clearing your throat and daring to glance at James. You break the silence by offering your name, extending some sort of peace offering.

   He doesn’t seem to extend the olive branch in return. uttering a gruff, “James,” as he shucks another ear of corn. 

   You nod, You’d hoped that he’d say more to make you feel less nervous, hands shaking slightly as you hold the knife. You knew his name already– Marie had told you a few days ago when she caught you staring at him while he repaired the broken gate near the stables– shirtless.  He had been sweating, lugging planks of wood from the shed on the other side of the lot, tattoos and bare skin glowing. Marie had snorted at your pink cheeks and made a smart comment about how he could fix your gate– whatever that meant. You’d been stealing glances at him since, averting your gaze quickly whenever he would begin to turn his head.

  You soon became aware of his dislike for you, and other than the earlier shower incident, you can’t think of why. You tried to stay out of his way as much as possible, which wasn't hard considering he hadn’t showed up to dinners so far, and always kept to himself except for when he was working with Wayne.

   It really bugs you. 

   You sigh when he doesn’t say anything else, glancing at Marie who’s back is to you as she leans over a large pot of stew, hoping that the heat of your gaze might burn just enough for her to turn around and save you. No dice. 

   “I–” You begin, “The gate looks really good.” 

   Instant regret rushes over you as a look of confusion paints his features, brows furrowed. You rush to explain, “The- the one by the stables, I saw you fixing it. It looks really good. I haven’t had to scale the fence to get through since.” 

   You embellish your compliment with a breathy laugh, audibly nervous, cursing yourself at your ability to make things so much worse. He didn’t return the laugh, and in fact, it seems that somehow your compliment had soured his expression even further. 

   “Thanks.” He deadpans, averting his gaze from yours and back to the corn. 

   You sigh, chopping another tomato. 

   Meanwhile James is internally kicking his own ass, unsure of why he can’t be fucking normal, intending to say one thing and actually saying another. He watches you from his place across the counter, the concerned furrow of your brow, pinched in the middle, to your nimble fingers diligently doing what Marie had instructed you to do. He feels a flash of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he misunderstood you. After all, you had noticed him– the gate was proof of that. Maybe he wasn’t as invisible to you as he thought he was. But that still leaves one question unanswered– if you noticed him, why did you intentionally ignore him? It’s silly and it’s childish, but it’s enough for him to continue on with his negative opinion of you.

   Time goes by wordlessly between you both, Marie instead taking the time to explain everything she was doing in detail, sure to send both of you home at the end of the night with the recipe for Birria engraved in your brains. Time passes this way until the table has been set and the food is ready, Marie ushering you both out of the kitchen and to the dining table. 

  The only three empty seats are lumped together, one of which is at Wayne’s side. It would be rude to sit where you know his wife would be sitting, so you take the next one with a small frown, waiting for James to take the one next to you. You’re aware that he’s not happy with the arrangement, and for a moment you wonder if he would take Marie’s chair, but he doesn’t and instead fills the vacant spot on your other side.  The table is tightly packed, and due to James’ frame, he has to keep his shoulders pinched together slightly to avoid rubbing them against yours. It’s nearly insulting, watching the amount of effort the man puts into not touching you, rolling your eyes to yourself as you eat the food Marie (and you and James, but mostly Marie) had prepared. 

   “So…,” 

   The mention of your name has your head snapping up, paused with your fork halfway raised to your mouth to look around at who had said your name. Your eyes fall on Dylan, who’s sat at the table directly across from you. You’d only met him once before and hadn’t really been able to form much of an opinion on him. He’s around your age, maybe a bit younger around twenty-three, with shaggy brown hair he let fall over his blue eyes and a smile that had a tinge of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He had helped you reach a pair of garden shears from the top shelf of the shed, and all you’d talked about within that span of two minutes was your names and where you were from. 

   “Hm?” You hum in acknowledgment.

   “You mentioned you’d stayed in Europe for a while, what was that like?” 

   You recognise the invitation of small talk, and you’d be thankful for it if it were just the two of you, but as everyone’s eyes settle on you for your response, you feel a little put on the spot. 

   “Uh, yeah, it was really cool,” you swallow, “Beautiful architecture.” 

   It’s a lame comment, and you're aware of it, but you're not sure of what else to say at the moment. Dylan nods slowly, eying you up and down in a way that makes you squirm nervously. 

   Wayne comes to your rescue, “James, have you been to Europe? I imagine y’have.” 

   The man beside you freezes, and he’s close enough that you can feel the tension, shifting in his chair. His bicep rubs against yours for the first time and you inhale quietly.

  “Yeah,” he sniffs, “Been a few times.” 

  “You been there on tour, I imagine?” 

  This piques your interest, eyes flitting to look at James profile. His jaw is clenched as he nods, “That’s correct.” 

   “On tour?” You ask. 

  He turns to you, and the intensity of his eyes this close up almost makes you regret asking. He nods, “My band tours here and there.” 

   “Ha! Understatement,” Wes snorts from across the table, southern accent strong through his laugh, “Mr. Big Shot over here has toured a whole lot more than just ‘here n’ there.”  

   He holds his fingers up in air quotes to emphasise his words, and you’re left confused. Mr. Big Shot? You thought James looked slightly familiar, but couldn’t place from where, so you’d just brushed it off as nothing. You turn to look at him again, studying his face and racking your brain to think of where you might have seen him before. It would make sense for him to be in a famous band, but which one? And why would someone in said famous band be out here in the middle of nowhere? 

   “What band?” You ask, ignoring Wes. 

   James looks uncomfortable, “Uh, Metallica.” 

   It’s as if bells go off in your head, piecing it all together and finally realising where you've seen him before. It wasn’t just one place you’d seen his face, but many. He’d been everywhere, on MTV, on the front covers of magazines on the newsstands back home, on billboards– dare you say Wes wasn’t too far off by calling him a Big Shot. 

   “Oh,” is all that comes out despite the revelation– despite the fact that you’re now painfully  aware of how famous he is. Your pre-existing nerves have only worsened with this newfound information, struggling to get a bite of your food down, wincing. 

   James, however, takes your lack of response and pained expression the wrong way and gets on the defensive, scoffing into his glass of water before slamming it down. The entire table goes quiet, and he doesn’t miss the way you flinch at his action, momentarily pausing to meet your gaze. Your eyes are wide as they lock with his, confusion written all over your face.

   He pushes his chair back from the table and stands up, “If you’ll excuse me.” 

   You watch his back as he retreats through the front door, letting it slam behind him. You flinch again and turn to look at Marie, who’s sitting next to her husband with a distraught look on her face. Sighing, you stand up and place your napkin on the table.

   “Dinner was absolutely wonderful, Marie, please excuse me.” 

   Marie flashes you a sympathetic glance as you walk to the door, and despite their chittering you don’t care to look at the expressions worn by Dylan and Wes. Instead, you make your way out of the house and down the front steps. The evening has finally matured into darkness, the pathway to the lodge lit only by lamp posts and strings of fairy lights that Marie had just put up earlier today. You’re not sure where to look for James, or even if you should be looking in the first place. If you truly are the cause of his bad mood, surely you’d be the last person able to talk some sense into him; but curiosity eats away at you, the need to fix whatever you’ve done gnawing at your stomach.

   It doesn't take too long to find him, sitting on the front steps of the lodge, mostly shrouded in shadows except for the orange cast of the fairy lights. 

   “Hey,” you offer carefully, slowing your pace as you near him. 

   You debate whether or not to sit next to him on the stairs, thinking it might piss him off if you do, but awkwardly rocking on your heels feels even worse. You take a seat next to him with a light huff, making sure to keep your arms from brushing against his like at the dinner table. He’s smoking a cigar, the burning tobacco lighting up his face ever so slightly on each inhale. Though he doesn’t verbally acknowledge your greeting, he doesn't leave either. As if he’s waiting for you to say something worth his while. 

   “I’m sorry, you know,” you offer softly, “I’m not quite sure what I did to upset you, but whatever it was, I’m sorry.” 

   He remains quiet, the sounds of the crickets and cicadas deafening. You exhale a sigh of defeat, tilting your head up to glance at the vast array of stars in the clear sky, counting the brightest stars until you lose your place. 

   James isn’t quite sure what to say. The longer he’s left to sit with his thoughts, the more he doesn’t understand what you’ve done to bug him so much. There’s been an explanation for every misunderstanding so far, leaving no reasons for his disdain, yet for some reason he just feels immensely frustrated by you. It’s something he feels under his skin, fizzing in his blood uncomfortably. He’s starting to wonder if it’s even got anything to do with you to begin with, or if this entire trip out to the desert has backfired and he’s got too much time and space to think about his life. Stress eats away at him, bubbling up slowly. 

   “I’m sorry about hogging the shower,” you ramble, “I didn’t realise you were waiting for it and I just got kinda…kinda lost in thought, I’ll hurry up next time.” 

   Nothing. It’s radio silence on his end, the air so thick that you feel it clouding your lungs along with the smoke from his cigar. You can’t stop your mouth from running, ”And it’s really cool that you’re in Metallica, I um, I don’t really know much about you guys but-”

   “You can stop,” he interrupts, the stress bubbling over, your face flaring with heat you’re glad he can’t see in the lighting. ”I don’t really care, honestly.” 

   He looks at you for the first time in the last five minutes, emotions flat and guarded, and for the first time since you’d met him, you feel your own anger rise up in your stomach instead of nerves– frustration, annoyance, fatigued with his attitude. 

   “Look,” you stand up, “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’d appreciate it if you'd stop being a total dick.” 

   He puts out his cigar, standing up to tower over you, not letting you have the upperhand of being taller than him. He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him. 

   “All day, you’ve been awful to me, and we just met. I don’t get it, what’s your problem?” 

   He scoffs, “I have a whole fuckin’ list of problems, sweetheart, don’t feel special.” 

   You stare, dumbfounded, arms crossed over your chest, “Yeah? And what about it?” you challenge, eyes narrowed, “Why do you think I’m here, huh? We’ve all got our shit, we’ve all got things we’re running away from, what makes you think you can treat me like shit for no reason? Because if this is how it’s going to be all summer then I’m already real fucking tired of it.” 

   Cicadas are the only thing you receieve in return, the chirping filling the empty space between you and James. There’s nothing. There’s no apology to speak of, not even any retaliation. His face is void of emotion, hands dug into his pockets as he stands and stares. 

   His stare is intense and unmoving, but there’s something hidden behind it. It’s almost a sort of hollowness, as if this is something he’s been through a billion times before. It almost makes you falter, trying your hardest to search his eyes for any clues as to what he may be thinking. But his eyes are still those of a stranger’s, and you can’t place exactly what it is that he’s thinking. Shaking your head, you finally back down, taking a step back. 

   “I came here to apologise, and I did. I have nothing else to say,” you turn to the lodge and step towards the stairs, “But Marie didn’t deserve that shit you pulled tonight. I think she at least deserves an apology.” 

   The words hang between you in the night, heavy and oppressive. There’s a moment where your fingertips hesitate over the doorknob, casting one last look in James’ direction in hopes that he would say something. But he’s remained stoic, gaze set hard towards where you’re standing, hands shoved into his pockets. Shaking your head again, you step inside, leaving him in the dark. 

   Only when you’re gone does he rub his hands over his face and swear under his breath. With a sigh that holds the weight of the world, he takes begrudging steps back towards Marie and Wayne’s house. 

★

A/N: god pls bear with how slow and badly written this felt. anyways i hope you enjoyed jsdhgkjshdkjhgsdjg

#james hetfield x reader #james hetfield #metallica #metallica x reader #reader #x reader #fic #metallica fanfiction #i was supposed to be writing an essay #i did this instead #anyways stream marty robbins gunfighter ballads and trail songs

[squeakygeeky]

I Feel You Linger in the Air Novel vs Series

I guess this is a thing I do now. Anyway, I feel like most people who posted about the novel were understandably focused on the ending, but this will be all over the place, full spoilers, this is for if you're interested in how it was adapted but don't actually want to read the novel. I would say I preferred the series since it took full advantage of being a visual medium and also because of the way it expanded on the story.

So the series only covered the first part of the novel, with Jom being transported back to 1928. The novel is first person from Jom's point of view and we really only get Jom adjusting to life in the past and his relationship to Yai.

Jom figures out he's in the past pretty quickly. There's also a mistaken identity thing so he never has to pretend to have amnesia.

Ueangphueng is still his sister's past life, but she's not Yai's sister, just a random neighbor married to Robert and not in a relationship to Mei. Ming is still in love with Mei but she's going to marry someone else, this is just a random thing not important to the plot. Fongkaew's story is kind of similar to the series and so is Khamsaen's, but there's no plot with Robert having done crimes etc. so she and Ueangphueng are just stuck being married to him and having his kids. James is there and flirty with Jom but there's no gay bar. Jom's piglet belongs to Robert and loses the race due to banana shenanigans, I'm sure you were dying to know.

Yai Palathip is 18 and going to be sent off for school and never gets engaged, instead his non-Ueangphueng sister does (happily it seems). No one finds out about Jom and Yai when Jom starts working for him, so there's not really homophobia they deal with, but also no support. They also barely get time together as lovers before Yai gets ripped into the past.

Jom gets transported to the 18th century (I think?) and meets Moustache Commander Yai. I won't go into much of what happens since it's not relevant to the series, but this Yai has no existing connection to Jom, so basically this part is Jom realizing he needs Yai to fall in love with him, which of course is successful because that explains why 1920s Yai was in love with him from the first moment. This is the Yai that gives Jom the tiger ring. Also there is stuff about personal pronouns used in the past: catnip to me.

Jom gets sent back to the present, but weirdly right before the accident. He doesn't check his phone this time but still goes into the River, he just manages to be in slightly better circumstances and gets rescued (by a foreign doctor, my theory is James reincarnated, although there is nothing to support this). He still has the tiger ring on so he knows it wasn't all a dream. When he returns to work on the renovation, he's given a key to a box in the trunk, which has his phone, the letter he wrote (not a letter from Yai), and the theater tickets Jom and Yai never got to use. Then he's told he needs to meet the son of the lady renovating the house, who is Yai Kanthorn of the present day.

1st special is a cute scene of Yai Palathip interacting with his nieces and nephews many years after Jom's disappearance. He became a judge and the family is prosperous because of Jom's advice about the future.

The 2nd special explains that present day Yai is a decendent of Lek, 1920s Yai's brother, so that's how he ended up also being called Yai. His adoptive mom/aunt is Yai's heir, tasked with giving Jom (as far as she knows just a random person of his full name) a key to the box in the chest. She sees his name in an article about a renovation which is why she insisted on hiring him. Yai sees Jom's picture in the article and remembers his past lives, so he goes to Thailand to find Jom.

The 3rd special is Yai and Jom in the present being boyfriends and getting engaged.

There is absolutely no explanation of why Jom time traveled.

#i feel you linger in the air #thai bl #thai ql