#please correct me if I said anything wrong or if you think something should be added

[f4iry-bell]

Before I tell you about my request, I have to acknowledge that you are so FREAKING amazing at writing!!

Don't know if you've already done these before, but Jameson's POV of when he first met Avery, during the will reading, when he first snuck into Avery's room, and when Avery was leaving Will Blake's ranch in tfg. It's probably a lot, but I've been wanting to read about these for a while and I also know a good writer who is capable of doing that. Also, just know that I'm probably going to request you many more things to write about.

first of all I'm HONOURED. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TRUSTING ME. second of all, i really hope this satisfy you and is enough 😭😭I'm no jlb, this is completely of what I think jameson would have thought from my understanding. if you think otherwise please do let me know. again, it's completely from my understanding of jamie's character. also sorry it took so long.

NOTE: all four parts are here. pretty long. some copy pasted dialogues!!!!!! hope you enjoy.

Jameson meeting Avery for the first time.

It was not easy for the Hawthornes, everyone grieved in their own way. But for some reason the grievance was put aside today by everyone, Jameson would like to say he has put it aside as well but the bottle in his hand and the obvious intoxication would say otherwise. It is not a good idea to get drunk during an important time like the reading of the will of the great Tobias Hawthorne, and it's definitely not a good idea to leave your family hanging while one sits at the edge of the balcony, only supported by the railing. But that's exactly what Jameson Hawthorne did.

His mind was all over the place looking for something, something that would give him the thrill more than sitting at the edge of the balcony, drunk. He might have been wrong, but there was a two out of ten chance that he may be right. He refused to look away from the brown haired girl who was standing in the backyard, completely mesmerised by the Hawthorne backyard. As she took in the view he took in her features and movements. He finally decided to interact in the only way he knew to find out what she is.

“If yes is no and once is never , then how many sides does a triangle have?” His words slurred but it got her attention. She looked up to him, bending her neck backwards.

“You’re going to fall.” She told him.

He smirked. “An interesting proposition.”

“That wasn’t a proposition,” She said.

He offered her a lazy grin. “There’s no shame in propositioning a Hawthorne.” Jameson’s smirk grew a bit wider when she noticed that he was shirtless.

“You must be Mystery Girl,” he said.

“I’m Avery,” She corrected.

She looked at him like anyone who knew what recently happened in the Hawthorne family would look at him, wondering why his face was anything but filled with grief. He wouldn't blame her for being a little judgemental. He is very good at grieving in his own way and an expert at hiding it.

“Whatever you say, M.G.,” he retorted. “Can I call you M.G., Mystery Girl?” He was trying to taunt her at this point.

She crossed her arms. “No.”

He brought his feet up to the railing and stood. He wobbled, he could see her thinking about something with worry and panic when he put one foot in front.

“Don't!” But he didn't listen to her. He twisted and grabbed the railing with his hands, holding himself vertical, feet in the air and dropped. He landed right next to her.

“You shouldn’t be out here, M.G.” He told her.

“Neither should you.” He can tell that her heart is beating fast. It was so obvious. Janeson’s heart was racing too, he told himself that it was because of the stunt he just pulled.

“If I do what I should no more often than I say what I shouldn’t”—his lips twisted—“then what does that make me?”

She sighed like she just realised who he is. She was taking in his features to make sure, especially his eyes, and his abs.

“What,” he repeated intently, “does that make me?”

“Drunk,” She said. Jameson was about to say something else, he was ready with a comeback but she added two more words. “And two.”

“What?” Jameson Hawthorne said.

“The answer to your first riddle,” She told him. “If yes is no and once is never , then the number of sides a triangle has… is… two .” She didn't explain her answer, she didn't have to.

“Touché, M.G.” Jameson ambled past her, brushing his bare arm lightly over mine as he did. “Touché.” He was impressed and intrigued.

Two out of ten, this time the odds were in his favour. And now that Jameson Hawthorne got the answer he wanted from this Mystery Girl, he has no plan to leave her alone. That moment he knew she was special. And his grandfather brought her here for a reason. He will find out why.

The Will Read

Jameson made his way to his wing and managed to find himself a shirt and suit jacket. He checked himself in the mirror once before heading to The Great Room. Once he was inside his eyes looked for a specific pair of brown eyes but he realised Avery hadn't arrived yet. He went further inside and stood with the rest of his family. Soon he watched Avery make her way inside and made eye contact with him. He immediately gave her a cheeky smile and a salute, he can also noticed Grayson stiffened at his action through the corner of his eyes.

Once the lawyers made sure everyone who is mentioned in the will was in the room they started. First, they handed an envelope to everyone in the family and to Avery as well. They were asked to open the letters after the will reading. Jameson is already curious about his letter and what the old man has to say to him and to Avery Grambs. His eyes were fixated on her envelope for a whole minute before focusing on the reading prudently.

“Mr. Hawthorne stipulated that all of the following individuals must be physically present for the reading of this will: Skye Hawthorne, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris, Nash Hawthorne, Grayson Hawthorne, Jameson Hawthorne, Alexander Hawthorne, and Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs of New Castle, Connecticut.”

Everyone's eyes including a pair of green ones were on her. Avery Kylie Grambs.

“...To my daughters, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris and Skye Hawthorne, I leave the funds necessary to pay off all debts accrued as of the date and time of my death.” Mr. Ortega paused before speaking, he looked directly at Zara and Skye then back to the will.

“Additionally, I leave to Skye my compass, may she always know true north, and to Zara, I leave my wedding ring, may she love as wholly and steadfastly as I loved her mother.” Another pause, more painful than the last.

“Go on.” That came from Zara’s husband.

“To each of my daughters,” Mr. Ortega read slowly, “beyond that already stated, I leave a one-time inheritance of fifty thousand dollars.”

Jameson wanted to smile but he knew better, just like how he knew that his mother and aunt won't be the one holding the old man's entire fortune. It's not a surprise, none of them should be surprised that the person who would be taking the fortune would be the heir apparent, his brother, Grayson Devenport Hawthorne.

There was a mini quarrel between Zara and Skye on how Jameson and his brothers became the old man's favourite, how Skye gave them to him so that her sons would have the inheritance.

“Now, if I may continue…” Mr. Ortega looked back down at the will in his hands. “To my grandsons, Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, and Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, I leave…”

“Everything,” Zara muttered bitterly.

Mr. Ortega spoke over her. “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece, payable on their twenty-fifth birthdays, until such time to be managed by Alisa Ortega, trustee.”

Everyone heard Alisa’s audible shock. Unlike his brother Grayson who was utterly shocked and threw knives for the word ‘what’ Jameson Hawthorne thought that this is getting interesting.

The old man didn't leave everything to Grayson like everyone thought the old man would because of the way he was groomed. Or to Nash, or to Xander, or to me. There is only one person left in the will. There could be two things happening right here, and if his guess is right…

“The remainder of my estate,” Mr. Ortega read, “including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to Avery Kylie Grambs.”

And it was indeed right, if you're smart you would have seen this coming right after they read that Tobias Hawthorne didn't leave his fortune to his daughters or his grandsons. The only blood related heirs. But now? A new heiress. Not blood related as far as he knows. She is not a random girl. He knew his grandfather too well to know that he wouldn't randomly write his entire fortune to a stranger. This is something. He doesn't know what she is yet. But he will find out.

Everyone's demeanour changed, especially Skye and Gray's. Not surprised. Even Avery’s, she is in utter shock, he can only say that much.

“...I assure you, there is no mistake.” Mr. Ortega met my gaze, then turned his attention to the others. “And I assure the rest of you, Tobias Hawthorne’s last will and testament is utterly unbreakable. Since the majority of the remaining details concern only Avery, we’ll cease with the dramatics. But let me make one thing very clear: Per the terms of the will, any heir who challenges Avery’s inheritance will forfeit their share of the estate entirely.”

“No will is that ironclad,” Constantine said, his voice acidic.

“Not when there’s this kind of money at stake.” “Spoken,” Nash Hawthorne interjected, “like someone who didn’t really know the old man.”

“Traps upon traps,” Jameson murmured. Trying to look into the old man's mind about this context. Trying to look into her mind. “And riddles upon riddles.” He looked right into Avery's eyes looking for something.

“I think you should leave,” Grayson told me curtly. An order. Typical Grayson.

“Technically…” Alisa Ortega sounded like she’d just swallowed arsenic. “It’s her house.”

“I don’t understand,” She said.

“My daughter is correct.” Mr. Ortega kept his tone neutral. “You own it all, Ms. Grambs. Not just the fortune, but all of Mr. Hawthorne’s properties, including Hawthorne House. Per the terms of your inheritance, which I will gladly go over with you, the current occupants have been granted tenancy unless—and until—they give you cause for removal.” He let those words hang in the air. “Under no circumstances,” he continued gravely, his words rife with warning, “can those tenants attempt to remove you.”

Oren stood between us and her.

“Oren!” Zara sounded shocked. “You work for this family.”

“I worked for Mr. Hawthorne.” John Oren paused and held up a piece of paper. It took me a moment to realise that it was his letter.

“It was his last request that I continue in the employment of Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs.” He glanced at her “Security. You’ll need it.”

“And not just to protect you from us!” Xander added to her left.

“Take a step back, please,” Oren ordered.

Xander held his hands up. “Peace,” he declared. “I make dire predictions in peace!”

“Xan’s right.” Jameson smiled, he knew it and he knew that he is not wrong about this. A random girl picked out from a random place far from home to be The Hawthorne Heiress, this isn't something regular, this a game. One of the old man's games. “The entire world’s going to want a piece of you, Mystery Girl. This has story of the century written all over it.” He reminded her about the media and how the world is going to talk about her.

Avery didn't say anything, she walked outside. He wanted to follow her but instead he opened the envelope that was held by him.

Jameson going to Avery’s room through the secret passageway

Avery didn't stay at Hawthorne House that night, he assumed her bodyguard and lawyer took her to one of the hotel's that was owned by Tobias Hawthorne and now hers. He saw her later the next day solving the keys, yet another game that proved that she is special, she solved it faster than any Hawthorne to start with. That night Jameson read his letter again and again, it took him one read to realise it was a clue, he can't help but read it again to see what it says, where it leads. But he also knew this would be nothing without the major clue, a walking brown eyed clue.

If he was a normal person he would have knocked on her door. Jameson Hawthorne is anything but normal. He walked into her wing and moved a picture frame to solve a simple puzzle to release a handle that popped two inches away from the drawer nearby the picture frame, he pulled it and twisted it four times to make the drawer and the wall it was attached to open.

Secret passageway. It was everywhere in Hawthorne House.

He made his way inside and made his way to his grandfather’s room, now owned by Avery. Once he was close to the fireplace he heard nothing, almost thought she wasn't there. But he gave it a shot anyway.

“Pull the candlestick.”

He wasn't sure if she heard because it was dead silent. So he spoke again “Pull the candlestick on the fireplace, Heiress. Unless you want me stuck back here?” His tone was frisky.

“Pretty sure this qualifies as stalking.” His lips curved into a smile once she said that.

He can tell that she was just pulling it. “Don’t just pull forward. Angle it down.”

She did as he asked. Once he heard the click and saw the gap below, Jameson lifted the fireplace up to the mantle to go through the opening. Once he was in the room he positioned the candlestick back to it's original form.

“Secret passage,” he explained to know if it intrigues her. “The house is full of them.”

“Am I supposed to find that comforting?” She asked him. “Or terrifying?”

“You tell me, Mystery Girl. Are you comforted or terrified?” He let me sit with that for a moment. “Or is it possible that you’re intrigued?

She didn't say anything but he knew the answer. She didn't ask him what he expected her to ask.

“You’re not asking about the keys.” Jameson offered her a crooked little smile. “I expected you to ask about the keys.”

She held the keys up. “This was your doing.” Not a question, he noted.

“It’s a little bit of a family tradition.” He said with a motive. He has done nothing but think about the will reading and raise questions to himself, whys and hows.

“I’m not family.” She tried to make a statement but wasn't sure herself.

He tilted his head to one side. “Do you believe that?”

“I don’t know.” She thought before she spoke. Does she know something? That was Janesons first thought.

“It would be a shame,” Jameson commented, “if we were related.” He spared another smile for me, slow and sharp-edged. “Don’t you think?” Jameson is good at a lot of things, flirting is definitely one of them.

“I think that you already have more family than you can deal with.” She crossed my arms. “I also think you’re a lot less smooth than you think are. You want something.”

Points to Heiress. She's quick.

“Everyone is going to want something from you soon, Heiress.” Jameson smiled. “The question is: How many of us want something you’re willing to give?” He spoke in a way that would make her want to give into him. But her resistance was stronger than he thought.

“Stop calling me Heiress,” She shot back. “And if you turn answering my question into some kind of riddle, I’m calling security.”

“That’s the thing, Mystery Girl. I don’t think I’m turning anything into a riddle. I don’t think I have to. You are a riddle, a puzzle, a game—my grandfather’s last.” He spoke and looked at her very intently. He didn't care how it sounded to her, he was sure of what he believed to be true.

“Why do you think this house has so many secret passages? Why are there so many keys that don’t work in any of the locks? Every desk my grandfather ever bought has secret compartments. There’s an organ in the theater, and if you play a specific sequence of notes, it unlocks a hidden drawer. Every Saturday morning, from the time I was a kid until the night my grandfather died, he sat my brothers and me down and gave us a riddle, a puzzle, an impossible challenge—something to solve. And then he died. And then…” Jameson took a step toward her. “There was you.” He tried explaining to her how Hawthorne House is, how his grandmother was. Why his grandfather chose her wasn't random.

“Grayson thinks you’re some master manipulator. My aunt is convinced you must have Hawthorne blood. But I think you’re the old man’s final riddle—one last puzzle to be solved.” He took another step, bringing the two of them much closer. “He chose you for a reason, Avery. You’re special, and I think he wanted us—wanted me —to figure out why.”

This point he was convinced that she was a puzzle to be solved or a clue that would lead him to something. Something his grandfather wanted him to find, to know. Because the old man knew damn well that Jameson Hawthorne could never resist a game.

“I’m not a puzzle.” Her heart was beating faster because of their closeness or because of what he's saying.

“Sure you are,” Jameson said. “We all are. Don’t tell me that some part of you hasn’t been trying to figure us out. Grayson. Me. Maybe even Xander.”

“Is this all just a game to you?” She put her hand out to stop him from advancing farther. He took one last step, forcing her palm to his chest. That touch shouldn't have excited him, even if it did, he didn't concentrate on it.

“Everything’s a game, Avery Grambs. The only thing we get to decide in this life is if we play to win.” He reached up to brush the hair from her face, and she jerked back.

“Get out,” She said lowly. “Use the normal door this time.”

“You’re angry,” Jameson said. Making her angry isn't helpful, if she's angry with him she may not help. Or see that this is a game, and she is a piece of it.

“I told you—if you want something, ask. Don’t come in here talking about how I’m special. Don’t touch my face.”

“You are special.” Jameson kept his hands to himself, but the heady expression in his eyes never shifted.

“And what I want is to figure out why. Why you, Avery?” He took a step back, giving her space. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to know, too.”

She does, she wants to know. She must.

“I’m going to leave this here.” Jameson held up an envelope. He laid it carefully on the mantel. “Read it, and then tell me this isn’t a game to be won. Tell me this isn’t a riddle.” Jameson reached for the candelabra, and as the fireplace passage opened once more, he offered a targeted, parting shot. “He left you the fortune, Avery, and all he left us is you.”

Avery coming out of Vincent Blake’s mansion (tfg)

Jameson wouldn't forgive himself if something happened inside, if someone happened to either of them. Avery and Grayson. Especially Avery because he let her go inside, knowing the kind of man Vincent Blake is. His heart could pop out any second, it was beating that fast. He tried to keep it cool with all the paparazzi outside. He kept looking at the gate, waiting for her. For her to come out alive and bring his brother, maybe Toby even. Whatever is happening inside, he prays that she is winning. Somehow she must.

His heart skipped a beat once he saw Avery come out with Grayson and Toby. He wanted to run and hug her, he didn't care that they'd cause a scene. but he stopped himself because he saw Toby talking to her, he slowly made his way to them and the car. To let her know he was there. He also let her have her moment with Toby.

He didn't know what happened inside, but from the look of it he can tell that Avery won. Whatever game they played, however she played, she won. And she was safe along with Grayson. That's all that mattered to him at that moment.

When she made her way to him, he didn't ask her what happened. “The knight returns with the damsel in distress,” Jameson declared. He glanced toward Grayson. “You’re the damsel.”

“I figured,” Grayson deadpanned.

“What are you doing here?” She asked Jameson. He can see the victory in her eyes, she was more open with him now that the first time they met. It was getting easier to tell what she was thinking.

“I thought you could use a ride home,” Jameson told her. She looked past him, expecting to see a helicopter.

“Pretty sure you aren’t allowed to land a helicopter there,” Grayson told his brother.

“You know what they say about permission and forgiveness,” Jameson replied, then he focused back on her with a familiar look—equal parts I dare you and I’ll never let you go. “Want to learn to fly?”

Avery smiled and took his hand. He still didn't ask her what happened, he just enjoyed her victory in the air. Just Avery and Jameson.

#jameson hawthorne #the inheritance games #the final gambit #jameson hawthorne pov #the brothers hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #nash hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #avery grambs #the grandest game

[beebeewoop]

AN IMPORTANT PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT FOR ANY NEWCOMERS TO THE EDDSWORLD FANDOM

It has come to the attention of I and many others that there has been some disrespect going on between Tumblr users who like to draw ship art of the Eddsworld characters and those who do not like to see certain ships. I will not name names or point fingers, but this needs to be addressed. Making art of these ships is absolutely okay to do as long as it is not problematic! We want Tumblr to be a safe place for those who use it as their outlet for art.

To any newcomers entering the Eddsworld fandom: most of us Eddhead veterans are in our late teens or early twenties so most of us are adults. WE'VE BEEN THROUGH THE WRINGER AND WE KNOW THE DRILL:

The fictional characters are not the real people, so yes, it is okay to ship the fictional characters. We know the difference between the fictional characters and the real people.

DO NOT bash those who ship certain characters together. DO NOT comment on a post of ship art you don't like just to tell the artist you don't like it. They spent a lot of time making that and it is very disrespectful to the artist. They have every right to take offense to your comment. Even if you were to say "Nice art but I don't ship it" is still considered disrespectful.

If you see something you don't like either scroll past it, filter out the tags, or block the person. It's really that simple! You do not have to interact with the art or the artist.

Also, T.H.I.N.K. before you speak, please! What has been said many times before needs to be said again.

T.H.I.N.K. is an acronym that stands for:

Is it True?

Is it Helpful?

Is it Inspiring?

Is it Necessary?

Is it Kind?

If what you want to say is none of these, then please reconsider saying it.

Thank you.

And thank you @crystalwhisp for helping me write this.

#me rambling #/srs #eddsworld #discourse #please correct me if I said anything wrong or if you think something should be added #trying to go about this as nicely as possible because we can tell you newbies are young and might not know better #reblog to spread the word

[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 2.7k words

fic masterlist previous part pt two next part

learning spanish (I don’t speak spanish, so please correct me if I’m wrong with anything here); non detailed mentions of injuries; male masterbation — after a mission, a group of spider-people come back bruised and for the most part injured, all including a seemingly unbothered miguel. miguel offers a first spanish lesson, one that ends with the reminder of something in return—I wonder where your new home is…

You hear the crash and commotion of a group arriving. You watched as medical spiders’ rushed towards the injured. They were all practically injured in some way. You quickly stood, making sure everything was out of the way, like rolled away chairs and random cords.

Your brows creased in concern as you spotted different spider-people holding their wounds, their suits ripped. You shift your gaze to the only one standing, appearing fine, besides his cut up suit and bloody face, bruises forming by his cheek. Before you know it, you're walking up to him. "O'hara."

He turns his head, his chest still breathing heavy. "You should sit." You suggest, watching as the rest of the group heads towards the large door, most likely heading to the medical room.

Miguel just walks past you, heading to the space you barely see him away from—by the big spider that teleports. You watch him walk, noticing the continuing tear of his suit, that gives you a good look at fractions of his bare muscled back.

You turn, quickly heading towards the exit, remembering something that might be helpful.

"Where are you going?" Miguel's sudden voice makes you slow as you briefly glance back. You catch his gaze. "You should be working." His general solemn expression is present, and oddly that makes you feel settled. Familiarity is always nice, especially after a clearly hard mission.

"I'll be back." You say quickly, before you rush out the door.

When you arrive back, Miguel is looking at his cuts, some clearly deeper than others. You tighten your hold on the large spider suit as you near him.

He instantly notices your presence, most likely a 'spider-sense' thing. His gaze shifts to the material in your grasp. "I know you'd rather someone else's help, but I know for a fact that we don't have spare spider suits, which is kind of stupid considering how dangerous your guys' job's are."

You near him, now noticing the way he's sitting, legs slightly spread, his body leant back in a swivel chair. And as you look closer, you realise that it's your swivel chair. You extend your hand with the suit, which he takes, eyeing the matching material and design of the worn-out one he has on now.

"I made a replica when I first arrived—when I was learning about how things worked here. Your suit is rather unique and I wanted a closer look. Not to mention that the design correlated to data I have saved on all of you."

Miguel raises a brow. "Data?"

"Lyla's data, to be exact. Since I'm working with her, she had to show me."

You watch as he runs the material between the pads of his fingers, his tongue coming out to lick his cut lip. A shiver runs down your spine as you notice his fangs. You'd noticed them before, but was never confident enough to ask him about them. No other spider-person had teeth like that.

You begin to step back. "Wear it if you want. I'm just heading to lunch."

And that was the nicest conversation you think you’ve had with Miguel. Mainly because you did all the talking.

Miguel watched you go, a nervousness very obvious to him practically flowing off you. Nerves he noticed heightened when you gave him the new suit.

He brings said suit into view, tilting his head in observation. He's thankful nobody was there to witness the small smile that had begun to edge his lips.

;;

"I'm sorry, when did you ever think that the patriarchy wasn't something terrible?" You ask Hobie, who had decided to join you for lunch. He had just showed you a new song on his guitar, the lyrics completely different from what you knew Hobie to be.

"Oh, society’s fucked. But I want to keep up an element of surprise." He says, continuously eating most of the food on your plate. "Can't stay predictable, now can I?"

You chuckle, slightly shaking your head, snatching some of the food out of his greedy hands. "Did you know what that mission was about, with all those injured spider-men?" You suddenly ask.

Hobie pauses, before shaking his head. "Though I did hear it got cleared from the database. Miguel asked Lyla to scrap it."

Your brows furrowed. "Why? I wasn't stationed for that mission, so, I was a little surprised to see the bloody fists and faces. Usually when Miguel leads a group things go so..."

"Smoothly?" Hobie fills in, to which you nod. "I don't know, mate. Maybe they lost, and poor Miguel's embarrassed."

Your lips curve up in a smile, as Hobie snickers at the thought.

"And weren't you just saying that you'd kiss my non-existent boots the other day?" Miguel's voice abruptly makes both you and Hobie swivel in your seats.

You instantly catch on to Miguel's clean suit. You hold back a smile threatening to surface at his semi acceptance of your help. Miguel notices your expression. "Don't take it personally, y/l/n."

You forming smile drops as you try to display indifference. "Did you need something, boss?" Hobie partially jokes.

"Not from you." Miguel looks back to you, before tilting his head to the side, silently asking you to follow him, as he turns and walks away.

Nerves crawl up your spine as you stand. You slide your plate closer to Hobie, as you speak. "Don't worry, you can finish it." Your sarcasm in your assurance is obvious, knowing he would have helped himself anyway.

Hobie places his hand over his heart, touched. "You're honestly an angel, y/n."

You scoff, quickly following the now disappeared Miguel.

When you near the tech and teleportation room—or in other words your office—you spot Miguel bringing up a second swivel chair to be placed beside yours.

When he catches your confused expression, he speaks, leaning back into the chair. "I have some spare time now for your first Spanish lesson. And Lyla is occupied, as of now."

You're quick to take a seat, a slight determined shine in your eyes that makes Miguel's throat tighten, which only sets a more prominent scowl on his face. "Te ves como una niña ansiosa mirando los regalos."

You blink, eyes narrowing as you try to decipher any of what he just said. "You look like an over eager child staring at presents." Miguel translates.

The shine in your eyes shifts to a glare of your gaze as you click your jaw. "As I said: I like this job."

"Mm." Miguel hums. "You've made that clear."

You lean back in your chair, trying to match his relaxed posture. "Can we start with something more simple?" You ask, wetting your slightly dry lips. Your nerves seem to do that to you.

"Don't worry, I don't think you're a genius or anything." His tone makes your nose twitch as you take a breath. You'd love to tell him how infuriating he can be.

"Repeat after me: Me llamo…" Miguel says.

"Me llamo."

Miguel is surprised by your rather accurate accent, his gaze shifting to your lips. "Me llamo y/n."

Your body becomes stiff as you hear your first name spill from his lips. You gulp, your throat now feeling dry. "Me llamo y/n."

"I'm sure you can guess what that means." Miguel says, his dry humour shining through.

"My name is y/n." You prove.

"Good." He says.

"Gracias." (Thank you.) You say the one word you do know, a hint of pride filling you as Miguel's eyes meet your own without the usual spite hidden behind.

"Since you know a basic word, let’s learn another." He rests his arm against the armrest, your eyes betraying you as they flicker to the tense of his muscles. "Por favor." (Please.)

"Por favor." You repeat.

Miguel's lips slightly curve up in a smirk. "You sound good being polite."

You narrow your eyes, before realising what 'por favor' means. "Please." You sigh.

Miguel's smirk hasn't dropped. To which you quickly speak. "Next word."

"Let's try a sentence using 'por favor'." He says. "¿Me puede ayudar, por favor?" (Can you help me, please?)

"¿Me puede ayu..." You drift off, unsure.

"Puede ayuder..." Miguel helps.

"¿Me puede ayudar, por favor?" You say, with a small smile.

"You're gonna be using that one a lot." Miguel says, licking his lips. What you don't know is that Miguel made you use the formal 'you', just adding more onto his layer of superiority. That's when you get reminded of his cut lip, which looks like it hasn't been tended to, most likely on his call.

"Are you sure you don't want to make sure that that doesn't get infected?" You ask, gesturing loosely to his bottom lip.

He raises his hand to it. "It's fine."

"Yeah, now it is." You say with a slight scoff. "It might not be—"

"It's fine, chaparrita."

"What does that mean?" You ask. "You've said it to me before."

Part—no, most—of Miguel doesn't want to tell you. Sure, he could play it off as an insult, but the way he can't help but let his tone drop to one of softness when he says it would give away the fact that he uses it as a form of endearment rather then one of hatred. He can't have you knowing that.

His silence makes you speak. "Fine, I'll just search it up then." You go to grab your phone—which sits rather far behind you—when he intercepts, using his web to snatch it up, pulling it back into his awaiting palm.

Miguel stands, taking the device with him. "Hey!" You call after him. "I need that."

"No you don't. Nothing of work importance is on here." Miguel calls back. You scoff, staring after him. Just as he's about to disappear through the exit he speaks. "Oh, and y/l/n?"

You wait in annoyance but also expectancy. "Don't forget you owe me something in return." Then he's gone, leaving you to lean into your chair, feeling heavy with all the different heights of nervousness you had just felt.

;;

It was dark, only a few spider-people wandering around headquarters. You’re preparing to teleport back to your universe, holding the wrist band you were given, when a certain voice stops you.

“Y/l/n.” You spin to see Miguel. You can’t help but let your gaze drop down his body. He wasn’t in his normal spider suit, wearing instead, grey sweatpants, and a loose (very large) shirt.

You had planned to say something, maybe ask what he wanted. But all you could muster was the open and close of your mouth.

You let your gaze shamefully drag back up to his face. His red eyes seemed to stand out more with the monotoned colours of his clothes. You gulp, refraining from shaking your head to clear your…interesting thoughts. You force a smile, maybe one too wide.

Miguel watches you, wishing he didn’t feel so amused by your confusing display of emotions.

You cough. “Did you need something, O’hara?”

He lets his gaze drift down your body, making you stiffen. And of course, he notices, holding down the curve of his lips. He wouldn’t smile in front of you. Though, he’s sure that self-made rule has already been broken by today’s Spanish lesson.

“Stay.” Miguel finally speaks, meeting your gaze.

“Stay?” You repeat.

“Mhm.” He hums, crossing his arms.

“What do you mean?”

Miguel raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “What do you think it means?” He asks dryly.

You narrow your eyes at his tone, running your tongue along your teeth. “I thought only spider-men and women can stay in headquarters?”

“I thought you wanted to do anything to prove your worth?”

Realisation hits you. “Oh, this is part of the deal? Your end?”

“In return for today’s lesson, yes.” He replies, walking closer to you.

He grabs your teleporting wristband, pocketing it in his sweatpants before he’s turning and heading towards a side door.

“Come on.” He orders.

You hurry your steps catching up to him.

Soon you’re beginning to walk up what looks to be the stairs to heaven. So. Many. Steps. You glance up at them, then shift your gaze to Miguel. “We’re walking all the way up there?”

“Feel free to web your way up instead.” The jabbing hasn’t left, which sets a small scowl on your face.

You wave your hands in the general direction of the higher steps. “You can do that, I’ll catch up.” You say as you begin to mount the stairs.

Miguel watches you for a second, pressing his lips together to hold back an unwanted laugh at the preparing deep breath you took.

He follows you up the stairs. You reach halfway when you realise he’s behind you. You spin, your chest slightly heaving. You’ve always felt jealous of all the spider variants’ fitness.

“Why aren’t you swinging?” You ask between breaths.

“Last I remember, you report to me, not the other way ‘round.” Miguel answers.

You scoff while trying to slow your breathing. “It was just a question.”

“Maybe we should switch lessons—do fitness instead of Spanish.” You watch as Miguel passes you, continuing up the stairs.

Your eyes are narrowed as your gaze follows him. “You’re funny.” You call after to his leaving form.

“No tan divertido como que estes sin aliento, chaparrita.” (Not as funny as you being breathless.) Miguel calls back.

“What?” You ask, breathlessly.

Miguel just chuckles. Your brain halts. Miguel just chuckled? Miguel seems to be thinking the same thing as his face returns, rather quickly, to its normal moody expression.

You’re both soon at the top, Miguel having reached it in a decent amount of time before you. Just as your bent of your knees, breathing heavy, Miguel turns, walking away again.

“O’hara.” You call, placing your hand over your rapidly beating heart. He doesn’t answer, continuing to walk.

“Miguel!”

At the mention of his first name he freezes. He doesn’t like the fact that his mouth goes dry, forcing him to gulp. He hasn’t liked the fact that you’ve made him ‘chuckle’, smile and actually forget about his morning’s mission.

“Your room is to the right. Be awake before six.” Miguel says monotonously, as he turns towards you, passing your now straightened body to assumably head to his own room.

You watch him go, your breathing slowing as a small frown forms. But it soon goes, grateful that this new room means O’hara is warming up to the fact of you staying.

;;

When Miguel reaches his room, he slams the door shut, some of the wall’s plaster crumbling off in sprinkles. He was mad. How dare you make him feel that many emotions in one day. One. Day. That’s all it took.

But what he hated more was the fact that underlying his anger towards you, was lust. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, your face and your voice was the thing that helped him late at night.

He hits back against the headboard of his bed, not caring about the creaks and groans of the wood. Because all he could think about was the way your chest looked heaving up and down. The way your mouth opened in pants.

He hated you. His hand slipped down to his pants, sinking into his sweatpants. He hated the way you smiled. His fingers wrapped around his hard on, beginning to stroke, his eyes shut as his head stayed pressed against the wall.

He hated the way you looked at him—big eyes staring with a mix of curiosity. His breathing began to hitch, as his pace quickened, a small groan falling from his lips. He hated the way you smelt—cherry following you everywhere you went. His hips began to thrust up into his palm.

He hated the way…

He hated…

“Coño...” (Fuck.) He whisper-hisses, his cock throbbing with the want to release.

His other hand gripped tight on his messy sheets, as he bites down on his lips, his eyes beginning to roll. His abs contract as his mouth hangs open in a pant. “Ay, dios.” (oh, god.)

Miguel O’hara hates the fact that only you can bring him to an orgasm that makes him desperate to feel another.

Fuck you—he thinks to himself. Fuck you, y/n.

I’ll admit— I didn’t expect this to get so much love, thank you so so much all of you angels, MWAH

I promise more parts are to come!

also some words/how things work in the ‘spider-multiverse hero crew’ might be different then how you picture it—certain details I just made up, hope you all don’t mind

taglist: @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbb @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees

#the miguel effect #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara one shot #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fic #miguel fucking o’hara #miguel o’hara #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #across the spider-verse #atsv #atsv x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #spider man #spider man 2099 #18+ #smut

[landososcar]

so american ; CL16

pairing(s) ; charles leclerc x american!reader

summary ; in which a trip to monaco turns permenant because of one ferrari racing driver

warnings ; fast paced relationship, smau, google translated french (pls correct anything that’s wrong) & FLUFFF

note ; lol sorry i lowkey disappeared. anyways. here’s charles and leo (aka everyone’s fav duo)

instagram !

liked by friend1, charlesleclerc, and others

youruser leo & i might never leave 🥰🇲🇨

view all comments

friend1 monaco is so so beautiful

yourbff you can’t leave me here alone in the us

youruser but…

charles_leclerc im stealing her

yourbff you’ve know her for 3 weeks

charles_leclerc whats your point ??

friend2 the states miss you come home

friend3 leo has a new lap to sit in????

yourbff i feel cheated on

charles_leclerc i’ll make sure you don’t leave ☺️❤️

youruser having the best time of my life with you🫶

yourbff saying you’re not gonna let her leave is kinda creepy not gonna lie…

charles_leclerc you’re just jealous coz she doesn’t wanna go back to the us and wants to stay with me

friend4 you look so happy😁

instagram !

liked by fan1, fan2, and others

cl16updating recent pictures of charles with a puppy, fans who asked him about the dog say his name is leo and he is not charles dog but he is staying with him for a while!! we are also unsure who the girl in his car in the last picture is, if anyone has any idea please share her instagram @ with us!!!!!!!!

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fan1 omg he’s not his dog??? i’m devastated now i wanted leo paddock appearances

fan2 idk maybe if you guys find her instagram @ don’t share it,, if charles wanted us to know about her he’d share with us

fan3 if she doesn’t want us to know about her maybe she shouldn’t hang out with the prince of monaco

fan4 she should be able to hang with whoever she wants. some of y’all are so weird

fan5 imma steal that dog

fan6 that means we probs won’t get leo in the paddock😭

fan7 maybe leo is the girls’ dog and she’s a friend of charles visiting him or something idk

imessages !

translation 1: ‘i’ll miss you so much’

translation 2: ‘we can be crazy together, my love’

twitter !

instsgram !

youruser added to the story!

charles_leclerc added to his close friends story!

charles_leclerc replied to your story

↳ you always do baby

↳ god you’re so cheesy

↳ i hate you

↳ can we go back home i miss leo

↳ charlie babe leo will be fine by himself for 3 hours

↳ i know i know

↳ i just love him so much

you replied to charles_leclerc’s story

↳ CHARLIE DELETE

↳ THE DOGS ARE OUT😭😭😭

↳ LEO GOT OUT??????????????? WHERE IS HE ??? IS HE SAFE??? DID SOMEONE FIND HIM??:??;??/??

↳ omg baby no leo’s fine i’m sorry for worrying you

↳ why would you joke about that

↳ i think i nearly had a heart attack

↳ you’re more obsessed with leo than me

instagram !

liked by user1, user2, and others

f1wagupdates charles and his girlfriend (leo’s mum — we don’t know her name) this saturday. the owner of the first pic said that they were out for dinner with pascale, arthur, lorenzo, and their girlfriends.

view all comments

user1 she so beautiful oh my god

user2 where’s leo

user3 girl she doesn’t have to take him everywhere

user4 i think her name is y/n… my cousin in america said that she looks like someone she used to go to school with

user5 i looked through charles’ following and he follows a private account with that name @youruser

user6 ooo that could be her fs

user7 did she really leave leo alone.. she’s a bad owner wtf

user8 leo is a dog he’ll be ok by himself for a few hours omg you just want a reason to hate her go touch grass

twitter !

twitter !

instagram !

liked by carlossainz55, lorenzotl, and others

charles_leclerc happy gorgeous amazing month ☺️❤️

view all comments

user1 CHARLES who is THAT

user2 Y/N CONTENT ON THE MAIN ‼️‼️‼️

carlossainz55 whipped

user3 omg is she playing his piano

user4 yes with her feet

youruser love love love you

charles_leclerc chérie💓💓

user4 anyone else think they’re moving REALLY quickly…. like i heard they’re living together already

user5 who CAREEESSSSS

user6 it’s none of our business

yourbff you’re all she talks about oh my GOD

charles_leclerc are you jealous

instagram !

liked by leclerc_pascale, yourbff, and others

youruser “too much, too soon” i’m living with him lol

view all comments

yourbff remember when we had conversations that weren’t about him

youruser wdym

yourbff i hate him

yourbff you’re OBSESSED with him

yourbff you guys are DISGUSTING

youruser you sound jealous

yourbff i AM. that little french driving man STOLE my best friend

charles_leclerc FRENCH????????

friend1 miss you 🫶🫶

joris__trouche ❤️

friend2 come visit soon we miss youuuu

friend3 you’re so so so gorgeous

charles_leclerc MON AMOURRR

charles_leclerc YOURE SO BEAUTIFUL I WANNA KISS YOUR FACE

yourbff can you get me a ticket to the miami gp so i can see my wife pls

charles_leclerc no you’re gonna try steal her back

yourbff @youruser ur boyfriend is being mean to me

youruser charlie i lost my miami paddock pass can you get me another one pls but like could you put it under the name y/bff/n y/bff/ln please, for no reason☺️

charles_leclerc okay baby💓💓

youruser stop it i love you so so much you’re so adorable😭

leclerc_pascale Leo ❤️

youruser he misses you 🥰

imessages !

#charles leclerc #charles #leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charlesleclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 imagine #formula one #f1 #formula 1 #ferrari #x reader #olivia rodrigo #charles leclerc fluff #charles fluff #cl16 fluff #f1 imagine #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one fluff #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #smau #charles leclerc smau #formula one smau #f1 smau #formula 1 smau #Spotify

[allysunny]

Hello 👋 can I pls request dating and jealousy headcanons for Bale! Batman? The reader works in his company and is very sweet and generous? Thank you ❤️

Dating and Jealousy Headcanons | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 6k words

Warnings: None, I would say? Workplace relationship, if that's a tag, hahaha. Jealous and overprotective Bruce, one (1) makeout session and I don't think anything else? Do correct me if I'm wrong.

A/N: Hello everyone! Here's another one of my Bruce asks! I had a really fun time writing it - I love this man so much omg. I hope you guys have as much fun reading it as I had writing it!

Also I apologize if I got any of HR functions and tasks wrong, please do not kill me if they're not correct, I had to do some research, hahaha! Also, I've just realised how vague the information on Wayne Enterprises is. Like, what the hell do they do? I've been rewatching the movies because my family never has, and they're never clear about it lol. Except for the first movie and the whole "Thomas Wayne wouldn't want us to build war weapons" plot, what the hell do they do there???

At first, he had no idea who you were.

And honestly, could you blame him? He’s the owner of this enormous company that employs at least a hundred people.

You were working in the Human Resources department and were praised by every single one of your coworkers. You were the one keeping everything in check, from analysing performance and helping everyone set goals on what they wanted to achieve at work, to organising databases and generating reports. Those jobs should technically be made by at least 3 different people, but you were efficient and very professional, and most of the time took it upon yourself to oversee things and make sure all was running smoothly.

Bruce ran into you for the first time when you were checking on the Applied Sciences department. You had been sitting next to Lucius Fox, keeping a record of all the important work he’d done the last month, as well as going over the paperwork that outlined whatever his job entailed – while still in the AS department, Lucius was now a member of the board once again, and you wanted to make sure he had everything under control – as always, he did.

Bruce had walked in and raised an eyebrow. He’d never seen you before, were you one of his employees? Some relative of Lucius’s? His partner? Who the hell were you, and what were you doing in here?

“Ah, Mr. Wayne.” Lucius said with a nonchalant smile, standing up to shake his hand in a warm greeting. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you. I was going over my Monthly Workplace Wellness Check with Miss [L/N] over here, and it seems all is in order.

“Mr. Wayne,” you greeted him, standing up and offering him your hand. This was your boss – the Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, arguably the richest and wealthiest man in the city, the boss, the man you’d never actually seen, but everyone spent no expense in talking about. And they did not lie – the man in front of you was handsome, with dark brown hair carefully slicked back and warm brown eyes that scanned you over carefully. He looked far too good in his navy suit, and you tried your best not to let your gaze linger on him – it would be unprofessional, and you wouldn’t want to be fired for sexual harassment.

Bruce, on the other hand, thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes upon. Your body was being snuggly hugged by a pretty, dark pencil skirt, and you wore a white dress shirt with flowy sleeves. The first two buttons were open, exposing a small patch of delicate skin and a leaf pendant. Cute.

Slipping his aloof mask back on, he shook your hand, relishing the feel of your hand on his. Your grip was firm – you were clearly trying not to be intimidated by him, but there was also something very tender about it.

“Miss [L/N], is it?” he asked, leaning back and placing his hands inside his pants pockets.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve never seen you around here – are you new or something?”

You tried not to flush in embarrassment. It’s only normal he wouldn’t even know who you were. After all, he’s got a whole company to take care of. And it’s not like you hung around the top floors a lot – your work was among everyone else, not the board. They had their own assistants for that.

“No sir – I’ve been working here for a few years. I’m HR Director.” You replied, trying to sound confident. This was your job and you’d been doing it very well – extremely well – and you were proud of it. It was a great opportunity to let your boss know of how great of a worker you were.

“HR Director, huh?” Bruce hummed, turning to Lucius once again. “You familiar with Miss [L/N]?”

“Yes sir,” the older man replied, smiling confidently at you. “She’s been overseeing most departments for about five years now. She’s the reason everything’s going so smoothly.”

“Really?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Yes sir, it is,” you nod. “I’m very proud of my job.”

Bruce took one good look at you once again and nodded.

“Fox, I wanted to check on you about some of the, well, some of the orders we placed last week. But seeing that you’re busy, I’ll return later.”

Lucius nodded and sat back down. Unlike you, he felt comfortable around Bruce, even if he was his boss. After all, who else had helped Bruce Wayne spelunking?

“How about I fax you when I’m done?”

“Oh, I can – I could come back later if you wished to talk to Mr. Fox right now?” You asked, quickly turning to your desk to retrieve your clipboard and pens.

“No need, Miss [L/N],” Bruce responded, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt an employee doing a good job. I’ll wait for Fox’s fax.”

You placed your clipboard down and nodded, offering him a small smile.

“Thank you, sir.”

Bruce found himself returning it, before turning to Lucius and nodding in acknowledgement and then walking away.

“I’m quite sure he’s gone, Miss [L/N].” Lucius announced, an amusing smile playing in his lips. You nodded, trying to get that flustered look off your face.

The man next to you supressed a chuckle – he was sure the first thing his boss would do when he got to his office was do a thorough research on his HR Director. And it’s not like he hadn’t noticed the heat that seemed to have crept up on your cheeks. He shook his head and turned to you, focusing on the Wellness Check.

Lucius was right. The first thing Bruce did when he got to his office, was do some research on you. Who you were, what job you held exactly you held, how long you’d been in the company. Not in a creepy way (or so he tried to convince himself), more in a “How come I’ve gone so long without knowing my HR Director? Who knows what kind of people are working in my company, and how come I don’t know them all? Who knows what their true intentions are” kind of way. Not that he doubted you – Lucius wasn’t the type to lie – but he was… Curious. Very curious.

He also decided to ask around about you. No one would know you and your work better than the people that interacted with you daily.

The word around was that you were an exemplary employee. Professional, hardworking, and kind to a fault. Everyone told Bruce about how incredible your work ethic was, and how helpful you were. How you always offered an arm when asked for a hand, how you’d go the lengths to help your coworkers even if it meant you would work overtime.

“She’s quite incredible, Mr. Wayne. Very efficient, very focused,” his board members would tell him, going over the fantastic things you’d done for the company. “She’s actually personally trained each of our interns herself – that’s why they’ve picked up on their work so quickly.”

“I don’t know about your department, but we work better when she’s overseeing us. [Y/N] is really kind, she’s very firm in her job, but never rude. You know what I mean?”

[Y/N], huh? Pretty name.

“She’s an excellent communicator, fights barely happen when she’s around because she makes everyone feel heard and understood.”

“Her initiatives have significantly enhanced our company culture, that’s for sure.”

“Her consistency to always go above and beyond in her efforts would make Thomas Wayne proud. This is what he would’ve wanted Wayne Enterprises to be about.”

There were many the people that mentioned his father’s name along with yours. How he’d be proud of you, how he’d give you a promotion right away, how workers like you were exactly what he needed in his company. And Bruce was intrigued. Because, how come such a gem was working under him, and he had no idea?

He had to change that, clearly.

“Miss [L/N]?” he asked you once as you were about to leave for the day. You turned around and couldn’t hide the way your eyes widened in surprise. What did your boss want? And how come he’d remembered your name?

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” you looked up at him and tried to focus. A million thoughts were running through your head. What did he want? Why had he chased you? Oh goodness, had he chased you? Had he run a background check on you of some sorts and was unsatisfied with the work you were doing? Were you going to be fired? You couldn’t – you’d been working here for about five years and never once slacked off. This couldn’t be happening, could it?

“I was wondering if you would like to join me to dinner later this week.” The words rolled smoothly out of his mouth, practiced, precise. He knew what he wanted and was not going to play around.

“Dinner?” you repeated, furrowing your brows. “This week? With you?”

“Dinner, this week, yes. That’s what I said.” Bruce nodded, and patiently awaited a response. He knew it might be weird. Your boss, whom you did not know, suddenly asked you for dinner?

You stared at him, running his words over in your head. Your boss wanted to have dinner with you. Your boss. Bruce Wayne wanted to have dinner with you. Part of your brain told you this was a terrible idea. Everyone knew what the papers said about Bruce Wayne, that he was a womanizer, a playboy. You didn’t want to be just another name in a long line of women he slept with.

But there was something inside of you that kept screaming “GO TO DINNER WITH BRUCE WAYNE PLEASE. YOU LITERALLY HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE”.

Except perhaps, your job. What if he asked something of you, something you couldn’t give him? What if he punished you for it? What if, all along, this was a big ploy to check his sources and get you fired?

“Miss [L/N]? Is everything alright?” Bruce asked, looking at you in concern.

Screw it. You were a damn good employee. There was no way your boss was going to fire you, murder you, or whatever other silly ideas were going around in your head. You shook them away and looked at him once again, smiling.

“Yes, sorry. Everything is fine. And yes, dinner sounds really nice. Thank you for inviting me.”

Bruce gave you a polite nod, before looking behind you, where his limo went.

“I will send you the details later then. Is Thursday okay?”

“Yes! Thursday is fine.”

Bruce nodded again, and looked at his limo, this time with a tad more urgency.

“Miss [L/N], I would offer you a ride home, but I have quite the long list of errands to attend to. I will see you later this Thursday then.” He smiled – he smiled – and made his way towards a black limo, where an older man dressed nicely opened the door for him.

You couldn’t help staring as the car drove away.

You were going to dinner with your boss. With Bruce Wayne.

Surely, there was no need to panic, right?

Turns out, there hadn’t been no need to panic at all.

In fact, things went great.

Dinner with Bruce had been surprisingly pleasant.

It started out a bit awkward, with you not really knowing what your position there was, but after Bruce reassured you there was nothing wrong with your performance at work, you relaxed.

And surprisingly, so did he.

He found himself conversing with you the way he hadn’t done in a long time – casually, truthfully, openly. Sure, he didn’t tell you all of the secrets he kept, but he was genuine in his answers about his favourite memories from his childhood, or his hobbies, what season he liked the most, or whatever other question you had for him.

It felt nice to have a companion who wasn’t merely interested in his name or title or wealth. You didn’t seem to care about those, preferring to get to know Bruce Wayne the man, as opposed to Bruce Wayne the name.

He asked you about your life and you replied truthfully as well, telling him stories from when you were growing up, sharing some of your hopes and dreams, and opening up about yourself.

Bruce thought you were fascinating – at first he thought the things people said about your kindness were just polite office talk, but after spending 20 minutes with you, he realised how true they were. You’d smiled at everyone on the way to the restaurant, letting an old couple go inside before you (even though you two had arrived much earlier), refused to ask for anything without a gentle “Please” at the end.

And he could tell you weren’t fake – he was often met with fake smiles and faux politeness everywhere he went, but he could tell you were genuine, and it just made him even more interested in you. After all, not only you were beautiful, with your hair carefully tucked behind your ears, and a fitting dress that, while modest, still managed to make you stand out, but you seemed to be beautiful inside as well.

By the time you got to dessert, you were laughing heartily, head thrown back as joy overtook you. Bruce had been telling you about the worst excuses he’d made to get out of social events, and the last few truly were something. You then realised he was not the man media portrayed him to be. No, he seemed much more down to earth, more focused, more sensible. Not at all the reckless playboy gossip magazines painted him as. It was a pleasant surprise, and you were enjoying every minute of your evening.

At the end of the night, he drove you to your apartment (more like gave you a lift, since his driver – whom you learned to be his butler Alfred – was the one who had taken you to the restaurant in the first place) and walked you to your door, like a true gentleman. You giggled and swayed a bit, having drank a tad too much of wine. You weren’t drunk, no, but you could feel that pleasant buzz flowing through your veins, the one that made you gigglier and happier and made everything a bit funnier.

Bruce steadied you by letting you hold onto his arm and caught you when you tripped on the stairs to your building. You laughed loudly and he pulled you up, allowing you to face him clearly. Your breath caught in your throat, and you giggled once more when you realised how close you were, and how you could feel the alcohol on his breath.

“I really liked tonight,” you said, nodding along to your words. You had been drinking, but you weren’t dumb, and weren’t going to ruin the lovely night you’d had. As far as you were concerned, this could simply be a dinner for him to try and get to know you better, and not anything remotely romantic.

His next words changed your mind.

“Me too,” he said. “I’m sorry if my invitation was abrupt. You’ll have to forgive me, but when I saw you working with Fox that day, I was curious.”

“Curious?”

“Yeah. Everyone said wonders about you, and you seemed like a great worker, and not to mention you’re quite beautiful – “

“You asked about me?” you giggled, covering your mouth with your hand. Somehow, that was the line your brain picked up in this whole conversation. “You’re a stalker!”

“And I apologize for that.” Bruce steadied you once again when you leaned back to laugh and let out a dry chuckle. “But I really enjoyed our evening. I was hoping that you’d accompany me to dinner some other time?”

You looked at him, eyes now getting heavier. The wine was working its magic, and instead of moving around, you stood very still, enjoying the feel of Bruce’s arms around you.

“Dinner? Some other time?”

“Yes.”

“Like a date?” You don’t know what prompted you to say that out loud. That’s what you were wondering, yes, but you weren’t actually going to say it out loud, too scared to face rejection, too scared that this whole thing was a misunderstanding, and he wasn’t interested in you at all.

Bruce looked at you, surprised by your forwardness. Not that he wasn’t thinking the exact same thing – he was – but he thought he’d have to be the one doing the pursuing. After all, he was the “stalker”, as you put it.

“Yes, [Y/N], as a date,” he nodded. “Like a date. As I said, I’m interested in you. I know it might not be appropriate, seeing as I’m your boss, but I won’t lie and say you haven’t caught my eye, and I would really like to go on another date with you.”

You smiled, hands resting on the collar of his coat.

“This was a date?”

He shrugged, “If you want it to be.”

You pretended to think, placing a delicate finger on your chin, and looking away.

“Hmmmm…. I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” Playing the part, you stepped away from him and tried to climb the stairs to your building door. Unfortunately, your foot caught onto one, and the floor went flying on your direction.

Luckily, steady arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from falling face first. Bruce pulled you to him once again, and this time he swore he could see all the specks in your pretty eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you couldn’t look away. Bruce’s eyes fell to your lips for a brief second, and you followed his gaze, wishing he would close the distance between you too.

But Bruce Wayne might be a lot of things and do a lot of things – but he wouldn’t take advantage of you. Not right now, when the wine was clearly getting to your head. He was going to do this properly.

He pushed away from you and gave you a friendly pat on the arm. Upon seeing the way your face fell, he mentally kicked himself. Shit. It was the wrong thing to do, wasn’t it? He should’ve just kissed you. But you weren’t thinking straight. And he didn’t want to take advantage of that.

“Goodnight, [Y/N].” He said, offering you a smile.

“Why are you such a goddamned coward?” A tiny voice in your head asked repeatedly. Why didn’t you just kiss him? You had a great time, didn’t you? He said so himself. He called it a date. He wanted to go on another. Why were you always so scared of going for what you wanted? Why dint you just take the plunge and do what you wanted to for once in your life?

Shaking away your nerves, you stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Bruce.” You said, nodding in contempt and walking towards your building. By the grace of some god up above, you found your keys rather quickly and didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness that would’ve surely followed, so you just walked inside and closed the door behind you.

It was Alfred who had to break Bruce out of his trance.

“Perhaps you could take a picture of the building and take it with you, seeing as it is far too cold for you to stare at the real thing the entire night.” He said in a sarcastic manner, causing Bruce to stare at him and get in the car, but not without shooting one last look at the building.

He’d see you again for sure.

Things went smoothly after that.

You went out a few more times, and within about two months, he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You accepted of course – after all, you were just as head over heels for him as he was for you.

You had to settle some boundaries for your office life to work out. You didn’t want anyone thinking you were shagging your boss for a promotion, or financial extras – not at all. So, you set some ground rules.

No PDA at work – this was rule number one, and it was the most important one. After you two started dating, Bruce found himself seeking you out more during the day, just to catch up or look at you (he was whipped). You’d noticed, and it was hard keeping yourself away from him. PDA was a big no-no. You two had to be professional and keep your personal relationship out of the office.

No pet names, no endearment terms, and minimal contact as it was. He’d once nearly gotten himself in trouble, having to switch from “My dear” to “Miss [L/N}”. It was tough and some employees looked at him funny, but he just walked away with his Wayne confidence, and no one said a word.

If you two did want to meet, it’d have to be after work hours, or during breaks, and in private. You would often bring him lunch, sit by his side in his office and just talk about your day and go over work stuff. He liked the privacy his office offered. He could have you in his lap, laugh about whatever silly reality show the Gotham gossip channels had on, and just enjoy some time off work.

No special treatment of any sort. This was very important. He couldn’t turn a blind eye to any problems you’d caused or any work you hadn’t done properly. Thankfully for him, you’d always been an excellent worker and he never had to reprimand you nor scold you. But he also couldn’t just praise you for every little thing you did – at least not at work.

It was hard, to say the least.

At home, you enjoyed being close to him, away from prying eyes, doubtful employers or clingy assistants who wanted his everlasting attention. And you could manage just fine at work as well – sure, you didn’t like seeing other workers drool all over him and beg for him to look their way, but you were also always far too busy to pay them any attention. After all, you had so much work to do.

But Bruce couldn’t say the same thing.

He’d go down a few floors to check on one particular project, or to supervise a series of workers, and find you busying yourself around with tasks, giving orders, keeping files in check, and turning in reports, and you’d look so great doing all of that. Efficient, hard-working. That’s what everyone had called you.

But then he’d see every other person had noticed the same. He could see the way other men looked at you, calling you over to ask questions and chit chat with you. They’d try to make you laugh, offering you charming smiles when they achieved so, and Bruce had to control every fibre in his being not to walk over to where you were and punch those smug grins off their faces.

Their games didn’t work on you though. You’d politely decline their advances, and declare you were taken, but some of them were too damn persistent. To those, you simply wished a good day and returned to your tasks. Something inside Bruce beamed with pride, and he would be lying if he said their upset faces did not bring him joy.

“C’mon [Y/N], it’s just one dinner. What wrong can that do, huh? I’ll take you to some place real nice,” a man in the same department as yours once pleaded, holding your hands in his. Bruce’s jaw twitched and you firmly moved away from him.

“Sorry Joe, I told you, I’m very busy. And even if I wasn’t, I have a very loving partner, and would never cheat on them.” Your voice was calm, but he could tell you weren’t comfortable with the way he touched you.

Joe scoffed.

“Some partner you have – you leave by yourself every single day. How come they never come pick up their missus, huh? If I had a girl like you, I’d come pick her up every day. What kind of douchebag leaves his girlfriend all alone? C’mon – one dinner with me and you’ll forgetting all about that idiot.” Joe moved towards you once again to grab your arm, but you moved away, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I told you; I wasn’t interested. And please do not touch me. Now, you should get back to work. Your monthly reports tell me you’ve been slacking, and I would hate to have to give you a warning.” You said firmly, raising your chin and gripping your clipboard tighter.

Joe scrambled for words, and you walked away. While brushing past Bruce, you could feel the smirk in his voice as he whispered “That’s my girl” for only you to hear.

But sometimes, he had to jump in and save you.

Well, perhaps save wasn’t the right word.

Because you didn’t need saving – he was just jealous.

You were taking a break from your weekly roundups, sitting at your desk, and chatting happily with your closest work friends. You leaned forward to whisper in a woman’s ear, and the both of you leaned back in laughter.

“Good morning, ladies,” a man in a nice-looking dark blue suit said, approaching the two of you. His blonde hair fell loosely over his eyes, and he did little to nothing to tame it.

“Raph! Hey – you’ll not believe what [Y/N] just told me,” your friend smiled, and “Raph” bent over to listen closely to what she whispered to him. He widened his eyes in surprise, before snorting in response.

“You’re kidding.” He turned to you.

You shook your head, biting the pencil you’d taken to your lips. Bruce had half a mind to walk over to you and claim your lips then and there.

“Nope. Saw it with my own eyes.”

The three of you laughed again, and Raph quickly looked around. He clearly did not notice his boss staring at them from across the room, so he pulled up a chair nearby and sat down.

You three engaged in lively conversation, and Bruce fumed at the sight of you leaning towards him every so often and giggling, bending over to whisper in his ear and touch his arm. Why were you so god damn close to him? Was there something going on between the two of you? Why the hell did he not keep his hands to himself?

Bruce’s patience snapped when he saw Raph take your hand in his and place a dramatic kiss on your knuckles. You looked at him and rolled your eyes, doing your best to pry your hand from his.

“Let go of me Raph, you’re absolutely disgusting.” Bruce noticed the way you smiled as you spoke each one of your next words, and something twisted in his stomach. A very ugly feeling that told him he did not like the way you seemed so close to Raph, nor the way he seemed to touch you so effortlessly. Why the hell was he touching you in the first place? Did he not know you were taken? He decided then and there this had to stop. This man needed to get his hands off you, right this moment.

“I’m serious – ugh – get off me, you’re sick! Get away!”

“I believe the lady has told you to let go of her hand.” Bruce’s voice echoed in the room, and nearly everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him. Your breath caught in your throat and Raph, who was sitting next to you, quickly stood up, brushing his suit.

“Sir – Mr. Wayne, I wasn’t – “

“Working? Clearly. Shouldn’t you be occupying yourself with your tasks at hand, other than harassing your coworkers?” The words left his mouth with venom, and he looked very angry – part of you had to stifle a laugh.

“Mr. Wayne, I promise I wasn’t harassing, I was – “

“Get back to your job before I do something about it.”

Raph shot you an apologetic look before scurrying away.

“Miss [L/N]?”

“Yes?”

“A word.”

You shrugged bashfully at your friend and followed Bruce. He led you away from your department, looking inside each passing room to find one that was empty. Once he found what he was looking for, he pushed you inside, locked the door behind you, and pressed himself against you, kissing you passionately.

A gasp left your lips before you returned his kiss, hands instinctively wrapping around his neck and in his hair. He licked your lower lip as if asking for permission, and you granted it with a soft whimper which he swallowed, hands deftly pulling your hips closer and closer to him.

When you broke away for air, you noticed how flustered he was, and how his lips and chin were covered in lipstick.

“What was – what was that for?” you asked, panting.

“Couldn’t stand to see that bastard all over you,” Bruce muttered, before moving on to press kisses against the column of your neck. You sighed in pleasure and ran your fingers through his hair.

“Raph is just a friend.”

Bruce snorted.

“Yeah, and he’s clearly interested in you. Idiot. Doesn’t he know you’re mine?”

At these words, you pushed away from him and burst out laughing.

“Mind explaining what’s so funny?” Bruce asked you, raising an eyebrow.

“Bruce,” you managed to say in between laughs, “Honey, Raphael is gay!” You kept laughing, staring at his dumbfounded expression.

“What?”

“Honey, he’s gay! We were talking about how I found his work crush sending dick pics to some random guy on Grindr!”

Bruce stopped in his tracks; brows furrowed in confusion.

“Gay?”

“Yes! He’s not interested in me silly – we’re just friends.”

“Oh.”

You resumed laughing, before adjusting your clothes and trying to wipe some of the lipstick off his face.

“Bruce, were you jealous?” you asked, cocky grin playing in your lips.

“No – I wasn’t – “

“Oh gosh, you were!” You smiled warmly at him. It was flattering, and you felt slightly bad for him. He had been worrying over nothing. “You don’t have to, you know?”

“They’re all after you. I know it.”

“They’re really not,” you replied, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. “And even if they were, I only have eyes for you. You know that right?”

He nodded, kissing you again.

“Besides,” you pulled away for air, fiddling with his tie. “If anything, I should be the jealous one. Every woman in this building is in love with you. And your personal assistant has tried not once, not twice, but three times bending over your desk, so you’ll look at her chest.”

Bruce shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“I couldn’t care less. I only have eyes for you.”

“Well then, you have to learn to behave. This is still my workplace, and I still have to interact with all of these people. And unless you want everyone finding out about us, you’re gonna have to learn how to deal with your jealousy better.”

He sighed, dropping his head to rest it on your chest. You smiled and ran fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

“I only have eyes for you, you know.”

“And I only have eyes for you.” He replied, before straightening up and fixing his hair and clothes. He looked at you for confirmation and you nodded, wiping whatever lipstick he had on his face, and fixing his tie and shirt. “Perfect”, you mumbled.

Bruce gave you a quick kiss and you walked outside. He’d wait a few minutes before following.

He really needed to work on those jealousy issues.

And he did!

Sort of.

He tried not to think too much about it when coworkers of yours praised and complimented you. “Hey [L/N], heard the turnover rates stabilised thanks to you! Good job!”. “Nice outfit, [Y/N]. Makes your eyes stand out. Very nice.”. “Hey, you saw this week’s morale reports? They skyrocketed – you’re too good at your job, we should all just quit.” It made his blood boil.

He tried not to think too much when your colleagues brought you any sorts of gifts. Coffee, when you were feeling tired, cookies or some other snacks when you were hungry, some even offered to go get you full fledged meals like salads or other dishes from the cafeteria just so you could keep working. You were so kind to everyone – it was only natural the ones around you reciprocated. And Bruce loved it – he loved that people recognised how generous you were, how downright good you were, and wanted to repay in kind. But it still made him somewhat envious.

So, he decided to take action.

One particular morning, he found you in your floor, working tirelessly. It had been a very stressful week, and you’d been far too busy to even visit him at the Manor or have dinner with him. He missed you. Missed your smiles, your laughter, your voice, your touch. Alfred was positive he was behaving like a child whose favourite blanket had been taken from him. It was endearing, yet also somewhat pathetic.

He approached you from behind, ignoring the surprised and stunned gazes everyone around you gave him. He embraced you from behind, dropping his head to your neck, and kissing you there.

You gasped in surprise, face covered in an expression of astonishment. What was going on? Was that Bruce? What was he doing here? And why was he kissing your neck? You were in the middle of organising a few very important reports and did not have time for distractions of any sort.

“Bruce – what are you doing?” you whispered, voice laced in shock.

“You’ve been working so hard, my love,” he said, intentionally loud for everyone to hear. “You should take a break.”

“Bruce, we’re working – we can’t – why are you – “ you had no words. No PDA, no nicknames, no special treatment. Why was Bruce breaking these rules all of a sudden?

“I missed you, of course. You’ve been exhausting yourself. Look at what I brought you,” he placed a cup of coffee on top of your desk, and you gasped. It wasn’t just any coffee; it was a very special brand that you only got one or two times due to how expensive it was. “You need sustenance.”

“Wow, Bruce, I mean, thank you so much, but you didn’t have to – “

“Of course I had to. Can’t have my beautiful girlfriend burning out, now, can I?” He lifted himself up and faced you clearly. He then proceeded to dip down and capture your lips with his, hand cupping your cheek and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. He parted from you slightly, and whispered against your lips, “I couldn’t pretend anymore. Couldn’t stand being away from you. Screw everyone else. If they have a problem, they can come and talk to me. I’m the boss, after all, aren’t I?”

You looked at him through your lashes and offered him a soft smile. You couldn’t lie; you too missed Bruce, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend you didn’t know him at all. You gave him a soft tug on his tie and pressed another kiss to his lips. He could feel your smile against him, and it only made him smile in return.

Bruce then stood up, straightened his suit, and caressed your cheek.

“I bought lunch. Meet me in my office in two hours?”

“Yeah. I’d like that very much.”

He stole another kiss from you, causing you to chuckle, and walked away, as if he hadn’t just shocked the entire HR department to hell and back with his actions.

It didn’t matter.

They all knew you were his now.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys enjoyed it! I love this man so much okay. And wish me luck, going to rewatch TDKR with the family. Yesterday we watched TDK and I don't think my family understood the sheer magnitude of that movie... 😔

Oh well! It'll be fun!

Once again, thank you very much! And please keep your eyes wide open, I have a surprise coming up for everyone!

Have an amazing day ahead!

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfic #the dark knight fanfiction #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x reader #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Could you do a Miguel O’Hara x wife!spider reader, when he lost his daughter he lost her too until they meet during the start of spider society, and he’s smitten with her and they have a baby who’s friends with mayday and she calms down Miguel when he starts to get anger at miles and guides miles. Also to see he’s smitten with her and their baby who is Gabriella.

I don’t know if this is what you meant but hopefully it is (:

My Spanish is prolly shitty because I don’t remember junk from Spanish class but I tried 😭 correct me if anything’s wrong cause I only speak fluent English and Hindi

His two sweet girls

He tried to find an answer for years on how you survived but Gabriella didn’t, coming up with nothing. He was happy you were alive, of course he was. But he wished Gabriella was with you both.

“Miggie, I think we should have another child.”

“What..? What if I can’t protect them? What if they die just like Gabriella?” He said, voice shaking slightly.

You flinched at his voice, trying to calm him down.

“It’ll be good for us. I love and miss her too. Every single day. And don’t you remember how she said she always wanted a baby sister or brother? You can protect them, because it’s not your fault she died.”

He stayed silent for a while. After a lot more talking and thinking, he agreed.

And that was last year, your baby now a year old, and your marriage stronger than ever.

Your daughter was also friends with Peter B Parker’s baby, Mayday. She played with her a lot, and had spider like powers. She liked to climb walls and ceilings with mayday, making it a chore to watch them both.

One day, Miguel started yelling and getting pissed off while you were trying to put the baby to sleep.

“Miggie.” You said, everyone turning to you. Miles looked in confusion.

“Ay, Vuelve al apartamento, mi amor.”

(Go back in the apartment, my love.)

“Es ese el niño de 1610?”

(Is that the kid from 1610?)

“Sí, por favor solo entra. Estaré callado.” He grew aggravated.

(Yes, please just go inside. I’ll be quiet.)

You sighed, walking towards him. He cocked an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“Quit being so hard on him. He’s a kid.” You handed him your guy’s daughter and he sighed as your baby climbed up on his shoulder, then climbed down and went over to Hobie. Hobie picked her up and started playing with her, which made you laugh quietly.

“Look, Miles, you don’t get it. You can destroy your world if you do this.” He continued.

“You just expect me to let my dad die?”

“I lost my dad. And my daughter. We’ve all lost something, but it makes us who we are. Time heals all wounds.” You said.

He stayed silent for a moment.

“You might feel guilt, but you have to understand that that’s just the sacrifice of being who we are. We all lose somebody, and that’s okay. And you may never get over it, but if you save him, your whole world collapses. Your dad dies, your mom, your friends, the people you care about. They all die because you decided to save him.” You continued, and Miguel silently listened to the whole thing.

“Just.. stay here for two days, kid. Then we’ll let you go.” Miguel said.

He stared at the baby hobie was currently throwing in the air and talking to with admiration and love. He loved his two girls, his two sweet girls, and he wasn’t going to lose them again.

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man across the spider verse x reader #spider man across the spider verse

[teaboot]

Hi! (just a personal ask. Sorry if it's not okay to ask for advice out of nowhere but I wanted to see an outer perspective and didn't wanna ask my friends. No pressure to answer of course but I would love to hear your thoughts!)

Is it normal for me to feel overwhelmed about something I want? I am just starting med school and it's a lot but I am fighting. And in my culture, parents buy their daughters their like things?? (like towels and bed sheets and a fridge. Anything they can buy except the apartment basically) for marriage from a young age. But my mom just started recently. And when she first bought me something. The idea of getting married & being a doctor (both things I want) felt like too much I teared up. My mom said I was being spoilers I guess?? Like I was ruining a good moment? Of course it is not that serious since I wasn't outright crying, and I just laughed afterwards as I felt silly lol ,but It got me thinking if I was being that dramatic.

This honestly felt like the moment in the movie where the mom hugs her daughter and says something like "oh how much you've grown" . Her retort felt like it was out of the script.

If you find time to answer, please be extremely blunt. Because I know for a fact I have a tendency to exaggerate things.

You are not overreacting. You are not exagerrating things. And I'm going to tell you this, because I experience this, the tendency to downplay your own feelings and recollections of events very often comes from having other people do it to you first. People tell you your feelings are wrong, or stupid, or irrational, and you learn to listen to them instead of yourself.

It makes complete sense that coming up on a major cultural milestone would make you feel excited, or scared, or overwhelmed. It sounds like you came upon the first step of a very big change and the reality of it all hit you at once, which sounds completely normal and expected!

Fuck, *I* used to get that about moving houses, and YOU'RE expecting shit like marriage? Holy fuck! I'd be a complete mess! The fact that you're level-headed enough to ask questions and process your feelings and talk things through is impressive, because I think I'd be losing my mind.

Personal story, but when I turned 17, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to a restaurant to celebrate. When I told her that it sounded nice, but I'd rather have dinner at home with the family, she told me I was a selfish narcissist, and that I was so busy thinking of myself that I didn't consider that other people might have been excited to go out.

At the time, I thought she'd been harsh but ultimately correct.

Now, I see that she had decided what kind of perfect evening she had wanted, and had expected me to play the part in the movie she had written herself. It had never been about what I wanted at all- it had been about her personal desires and expectations.

And it's normal to feel frustrated about things that don't go the way we want or expect, but lashing out at others is not an appropriate way to handle those emotions.

The way we feel cannot be controlled like a machine. The way we feel is usually not a problem. The problem is what we do, and the choices we make based on those feelings.

Children throw tantrums and sat mean things because they haven't learned better yet. They don't have the practice or experience. Adults like your mother and mine should have that on lock, but often don't, especially if culture or tradition or social expectations tell them their actions are justified.

If I had to take take guess, I'd say it sounds like your mom gave you this gift with an idea in mind of how she wanted you to react. She probably wanted you to be grateful and praising and sweet, so she could fulfill the role she envisioned for herself, and when you deviated from that picture, she was disappointed. From that perspective, it would seem that she felt slighted, and that she was owed your gratitude, and you were at fault for withholding it.

This perspective makes sense, in an emotionally immature sort of way, but would completely overlook your feelings, which are just as important.

Your exact situation is not one I've been in before, but if I'm correct in my assumptions (which I may not be) then I'd suggest keeping an eye out for other instances of your perspective and feelings being minimized.

Are you often told you are behaving irrationally? That you're over-emotional? That you're self-centered or greedy or entitled? Are you told that you don't remember things or do things as you're told? That you see problems where there aren't any? That you male trouble where there is none? That certain conversations aren't worth having, or that "you're always like this"?

It sounds like you know that something is off. I'd encourage you to keep asking questions and follow your instincts. At the end of the day, your life is your own, no matter where it came from.

#Teaboot advice #Good luck

[endthedream]

[7:03 pm]

jaemin x reader (1.1k words)

masterlist

There is something so vulnerable about admitting you were wrong, something so absurdly hurtful about digging into your faults.

Jaemin knew he messed up. The moment he raised his voice and said words he didn’t mean, he knew he messed up. But the stress from the past weeks and the the exhaustion drilling itself into his bones, was enough to make him snap. He snapped at the one person that always comforted him, the one person that never means any harm to him.

And he knows you aren’t mad at him, god, you’re too good to him to be mad. He is mad at himself for being such an idiot. The only thing he always wanted whenever he was stressed at work, whenever he had to stay behind late, was you. And now he messed up.

He can still hear the whole conversation ringing in his mind, spinning over and over and over again. It’s like his own brain is torturing him for the mistake he made.

“God, just leave me alone.”, he said, head is his hands. “Stop being so annoying. Stop bothering me.” He could almost hear your heart breaking in your chest as the words left his mouth. But he didn’t yet have a clear mind to tell you that nothing he said was true.

“Okay, Jaemin.” Despite the hurt you were feeling, your voice was still gentle and so incredibly soft. “I’m going to give you some time alone. I really think you need it. And if you feel ready to talk, or you just need someone, call me, okay?”

That was two hours ago. Two hours of Jaemin not being able to stop the tears that are streaming down his face. Two hours since he couldn’t stop wallowing in self pity. Two hours since he wanted nothing more than to be in your arms.

He watched you as you put on your coat and shoes. He watched as you grabbed your purse. He watched as you showed him one last smile. And he watched as you walked out the door.

Jaemin has to make it up to you again. He has to correct his own mistake. And he will do anything that it takes for you to forgive him. Even if it means he has to beg for your forgiveness on his knees, he will do it. So without thinking any further, Jaemin grabs his jacket and sprints out of his apartment into the pouring rain.

You sit in front of the TV, watching a random show you found on Netflix, when you hear the knock on your door. Thinking it was just the delivery guy, bringing you your pizza, you stand up to open the door. But what you don’t expect is seeing Jaemin in front of you, soaked from head to toe from the rain outside and soggy flowers in his hand. You can’t tell if there are tears streaming down his face or if it’s the rest of the rain water dripping from his hair, but the blood shot eyes answer your question.

“Jaemin?” His name comes out in a question as you take his arm and pull him inside. “What are you doing here? You’re going to get sick.”

“I needed to see you.”, he says, voice strained from all the crying and his shoulders shivering from either the coldness or the sadness in his heart. “I had to make it up to you. I wasn’t being fair. You always treat me so nice. You take care of me, listen to me, hold me whenever I need it and I go and tell you to leave me alone when I actually needed you the most.”

“Baby.”, you coo, gently talking the flowers from his hands and pulling him with you into the bathroom. “There is nothing you have to make up to me. I know how stressed you’ve been and I should have given you some time before overwhelming you with all my questions. It’s okay, really.”

“No it’s not.” More tears stream down his face as he lets you take off his soaked clothes. “It’s not okay at all. I should have never raised my voice at you. I should have just told you that I needed a moment to myself, not driven you away by my bad mood. I am so sorry, baby. Please forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Jaemin.”, you tell him as you walk to your bathtub, filling it with warm water. “Baby, stuff like this happens. People get overwhelmed and say things they don’t mean. I know you didn’t mean what you said. I know, because you are the kindest person on this planet. You wouldn’t even hurt a fly. But the stress got to you, and it’s okay. I love you, my sweet boy. Nothing will change that.”

As you see the tub filled with warm water and bubbles that you added in, you lead him into it, making sure he is nice and comfortable. Almost immediately Jaemin stops shivering, his muscles relax and his mind stops spiralling. You put some shampoo in your hands, softly massaging it into his hair, earring a small grunt of satisfaction from the boy in the bathtub.

The tears soon stop as well and a comfortable silence fills the room. Jaemin opens his eyes a few minutes later, looking up at you with so much adoration. “I love you. So much.”

“I know.”, you tell him, leaning down to give him a gentle kiss on his lips. “I know because you show me your love every single day.” And for the first time since today Jaemin smiles, a bright and genuine smile.

“There it is.” You clap your hands excitedly over the beautiful scenario right in front of you. “There is my sweet boy. I missed your smile.”

“It’s because of you.”, he tells you, one hand reaching out to link his fingers with yours. “All my smiles are only for you, and will always only be for you. You make me happy, Y/N. You give me life. I don’t know how I will ever be able to repay you for everything you do for me.”

“You won’t ever have to repay me, Jaemin. I do those things because I love you.” There’s a short silence, a few seconds where neither of you say a word. “But maybe you can just cuddle me through the whole evening and give me as many kisses as I want, and we can call it even.”

A bright grin appears on the boys lips, his slight chuckle filling the room and all he can do is shake his head at your words. “You don’t have to tell me twice, baby.”

-

authors note: I hope you liked this one :) I hastily wrote it at work when I had some time, and I hope it makes up for the lack of posts in the past few weeks

#na jaemin #nct na jaemin #na jaemin imagines #na jaemin x reader #na jaemin x yn #na jaemin fluff #jaemin fluff #na jaemin imagine #jaemin x reader #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct dream x y/n

[goldenhourwriter]

•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•

part one • part two (you are here) •

⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader

⋆warning(s): i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.

⋆a/n: oh i love writing sassy spider-people

"And then the hot sandwhiches in the cafeteria suck ass, like, at least melt the cheese. I don't want some luke warm sandwhich that can't decide whether to be hot or cold!"

I hum absentmindely, playing with my bracelets as Ben Parker keeps mumbling and moping on and on about how his life is so terrible compared to all the other Spider-Men. Honestly, when I said he was allowed to get some things off his chest, I thought he meant telling me about the mission that went bad with him, not his whole life story from birth to this moment. He sighs dramtically, plopping his head down at the table we're sitting at, and I flinch at the sudden jolt of motion, my eyes lifting to look at him. He lets out a low, dramtic wail. "See? You don't care either!" He drawls. I roll my eyes.

"Nobody is looking at you, Ben, quit it." He rolls his head to the side with the most awful puppy-eyes I have ever seen. I give him a sarcastic, annoyed smile.

"Sorry, correction. Nobody is looking at you as if they hold any sympathy for you," I tell him as I stand up, having to take a moment to regain my balance from the whale that I am now. He sneers at me, his hair all dishelved from the way he's been tugging at it for the past hour. "I'll have you know that many people give their sympathy to me! There-there should be a book written about me! Or-or even better, a movie!" He calls out with frustration as I walk away from him. I scoff, not even bothering to justify his shouting at me with a glance over my shoulder. The doors to the cafeteria open and then close, and I heave out a sigh.

I think I'd hurl myself out the window if I hear his life story for the 30th time. It's a topic he loves discussing.

"Hey! Y/N!" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. I whip my head around. It could be any spider-person calling my name. From any floor, wall, ceiling, corner, web, anything. You never really know where to look when you work at a place like this.

The voice calls my name again, and this time it's more clearer, calling out behind me. I turn around and see Gwen walking towards me, a smile on her face. I let out a small breath of relief, grateful it's at least someone I enjoy being around, and not like one of the mind-numblingly boring Spder-Men who can't quit talking about how rough they have it. I hope you get who I'm referring to.

I walk a few steps, beginning to speak and raise my hand to wave in greeting, but she stops me with her hands. "No! No! Please, we'll meet you there."

Considerate. I love it. But I also hate it.

I put one hand on my belly, and one hand on my hip, jutting it out with. I give her a soft smile. "You're awre I can still walk, correct? I'm not toally useless," I sigh. She shrugs, not really responding. She holds her hand up to gesture to....something. But I don't really see what it's supposed to be.

"This is Miles," she smiles, with a hint of annoyance in her eye. I look to the side of her which she's gesturing to, but I raise my eyebrows.

"Gwen? Have we really drove you that crazy that you're making people up?" I ask, looking back at her. Her face drops in confusion, and she looks to her side. She groans, throwing her hands down into fists and spins around. I look past her, and I see another teen, presumably Miles, awe-struck and looking around everywhere. He seems a bit lost, but that doesn't hold a candle to the child-like wonder that is clear on his face.

"Miles! I told you not to fall behind!" She shouts at him. Immediatley, he snaps out of his daze, and he looks at her like a lost puppy. I've seen that before. I um, the pieces clicking in my mind, and I watch on with amusement.

This is the kid Gwen usually doesn't shut up about.

I snicker.

Cute, I think to myself as he smiles at her and mumbles an apology. They both clearly have feelings for one another. But, there is that air of nothing is established. A sort of tension. He looks at me finally, and his eyes immediatley drop to my stomach.

"You're pregnant?" He blurts out, and, despite his dark skin, I can still clearly see him blushing at his outburst. I furrow my brows at him, a bit worried that he might faint. Gwen closes her eyes, annoyed, and elbows him in the gut. I bite back a smile while straightening.

"Yes, I am pregnant. And don't even think about apologizing, all the new recruits have the same reaction." I smile as I think back to all of the young adults and teens I've met, each wondering in shock how I'm able to fight crime with two babies in me.

He goes to talk, and stick out his hand for me to shake, but Gwen hits him again.

"He's actually not a recruit, Miguel needed to see him. He's caused a bit of....well..." she trails off. I let out a small sound of understanding as I look at her while she's explaining. I look back at Miles.

"Well, I've already heard so much about you. I really do hope to see you joining our ranks someday," I say politely. I stick out my hand this time, and he takes it, a bit awe-struck. "Well, you know what they say," he says. He holds my hand as I look at him, expecting something. I quirk my eyebrow up. "What? What do they say?" A beat of silence.

"I have no idea."

I stare at him for a moment. Gwen didn't tell me this kid was so dorky. The again, all the Spider-People come from dorky backgrounds. I nod slowly, my hand retracting from his as I put it to my chest. "Great..." I trail off. I shake my head, and I look at Gwen again.

"I was actually just about to go see him, he hasn't had lunch, and I grabbed him an empanada, he usually goes nuts for them," I giggle, holding up the small container in my hand, which was long-forgotten while Ben shared his deepest, darkest corners of his soul. Again.

Miles lights up at the sight of the empanada.

"My grandma used to make those! Fueron los mejores (They were the best)," he beams, putting his hand on is hips, his chest expanding with pride. He bumps his shoulder intp Gwen's, who looks like she wants to crawl into a hole at this moment. I watch with endearment. It is endearing, how he gets all excited. I was the same way learning Spanish, wanting to expand my knowledge for Miguel. I wait for a moment for him to explain himself, my lips quirked up in a small smile.

"See? I know Spanglish," he chuckles, clearly getting prouder of himself. I smile widely.

"Que maravilla (wonderful)," I respond. His face drops, and he looks down, rocking on his feet, his voice growing quiet. I chuckle. "Oh...I see you...know..." "If you don't mind, Miles," Gwen says through gritted teeth. She looks back at me, her smile still strained. "We're going to keep moving along."

I shrug.

"I'll come with, give Miguel his empanada." I walk over to Miles, putting my arm around his shoulder. This throws him off, his eyes growing wide. He glances to the side, then back at me, not knowing what to do. I point to his chest with the empanada-hand. "También me encantaría escuchar más de su español (I'd also love to hear more of his Spanish)," I grin.

✮•

"Oi, there's the little child-bearer," Hobie announces as he gets up from his spot, walking over. He goes to put an arm around me, but I dodge, smacking it away. "Call me that again and I will give you something much, much more painful than giving birth," I growl. He doesn't even looked shocked, he loves riling people up. He pats my head, and walks a bit ahead of us. I scoff at his back, his guitar hanging so loosley off of it it makes me wonder how it's even managed to stay on for that long. I glance over my shoulder at Miles, who still walks a bit behind the rest of us. I slow down my pace, and when we're at the same speed, I whisper to him.

"You okay, kid?" His shoulders tense at that name, so I put my hands up in retreat. "Sorry, I wasn't the biggest fan of it either at your age," I chuckle. He glance at me, trying to find the amusement, but his laugh just comes out....dead. I sigh.

"Listen, Miles, I don't know what happened before you got here. I frankly, maybe I don't want to know. But just know it's nothing we can't fix, alright?" I mumble, bumping my shoulder with his for some light encouragement. He smiles just a tiny bit, his hand coming up to rub the shoulder I bumped bashfully. "Yeah...thanks."

I watch as he walks a bit ahead of me, and I watch as he looks at Gwen with...almost a longing gaze. A bit sad, too. I frown. I know how rough this kid has had it, Gwen's told me, and sometimes I would see him come up in the feed occasionally when I would cover for Miguel, giving him some much-needed rest time. I watched just as I did now, a frown etched on my face, wanting to reach out and tell him that this job does get better, but he wouldn't know I was watching. He still doesn't know I'm watching as we walk through the doors and into my husband's office. I fall into line with the teens, and look up at my husband and his beloved platform. Going down. Slowly. Inch by inch.

I groan inwardly.

This thing again.

I remember my first day here, I thought it was the most terrifying thing, seeing his broad back, all hunched over menacingly over the screens. Then, his mask came down, and I couldn't focus the entire time he was explaining everything to me, I was too focused on his face.

He claims he didn't know what I was doing, but I know that he was just as distracted as I was.

Miles glances at Gwen, and she shakes her head, indicating him not to talk. "I know, it's slow," she says. Miles still looks confused, and he looks over her shoulders and at me. I wave my hand in the air dismissevly. "It's his thing," I mumble under my breath, so Miguel can't hear us. God forbid we ruin his whole macho-'I'm so menacing,' act.

"Miguel O'Hara, meet, Miles Morales!" Gwen announces. No response.

"Ay, ¿Qué tal, tío? (Hey, what's up, dude?)" Miles smiles. "Yeah, I speak Spanish," he announces in front of me for the second time today.

I heave out a sigh, letting my head roll to the front. I look up again, and when I speak, my voice comes out in a shout. I have no idea what he can or can't hear from his mountain hideout.

"Amor, lo entendemos, puedes dominarnos. ¿Apuremos esto, por favor? (Love, we get it, you can overpower us. Let's hurry this up, please?)"

He grumbles something in Spanish, but I can't catch it. He spins around, shooting me a glare. "Glad to see you've met my wife," he says to Miles after giving me a hard look. Miles looks between me and my husband, his eyes scrunched together. He doesn't dare speak yet, however. Miguel smiles angrily, baring his fangs. "Something I had, like most things here now, no control over. Funny, considering I run this place!" His voice gets louder and a bit more sharp as he continues talking, and his hands come to his hips. I roll my eyes, making a sound of annoyance. I heave out a sigh. Miles steps forward, his hands moving while he speaks.

"Listen, man, I'm really excited to get going, I got some fresh new ideas on how to catch the Spot. You know, he just wants to be taken seriously-"

"Oh! Great. Uh-huh, uh-huh," my husband mumbles with a small, pestered smirk as Miles speaks. He lets out a very loud, very agressive roar as he hurls a piece of technology at Miles. Gwen and I both shout with shock, jumping out of the way, and Miles covers his head. Miguel doesn't even stop to consider what he did.

"You were worried about Spot, I'll worry about Spot!" he continues to yell at Miles. Miles is shaking, his eyes bulging with fear at him.

Gwen looks violated, and a bit worried for her friend. "Miguel! It's not his fault!" Miles agrees with her, nodding repeatedly.

"It was his fault, he blew another hole in the multiverse!"

"He didn't know any better!" Gwen shoots back. Miles doesn't quite know what to say, standing there awkardly, as if he and his friends' mom are fighting.

I step forward now, my head lowering as the platforms still moves slowly down.

"Miguel, think about throwing wires at someone! He was just tryng to do what Spider-Man does!" I try to rationalize. His head looks sharply to me, his eyes glowing red. It doesn't faze me, however. I've been on the receiving end of that look a few times, so I'm used to it. "Y/N, you're supposed to be on maternity leave!" He shouts. He holds up a hand, holding in a breath.

"Just...nevermind. You all knew what the risk here was! Gwen! You did! And you-!" Miguel looks to Hobie, pointing at him. Hobie is sliding down a metal arch, head first, on his back, just...enjoying life. As if this is really just his entertainment he threw together. Miguel sighs. "I was gonna try to ignore you," he pauses, before looking away again. "I can't, I just can't-"

"I ain't even here," Hobie mumbles in his thick accent. Miguel shakes his head, his thumb and index finger squeezing the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head as he walks a bit down the platform. I glance towards Gwen, who is already looking at me, silently begging me to say something, anything to try and calm my husband down. I sigh.

"Miguel, darling," I begin. Hobie groans.

"You know, just as a heads up, how married are you two gonna be today? Because I'm debating whether or not to sit here through all the pet names," he says, very annoyed, as he gets up from his seat, walking over to me and putting his arm on my head. He looks down at me, expecting an answer. I let a glare linger on him, and I look back at Miguel.

Miguel turns around again, his gaze boring into my eyes. "You fixed the whole catastrophe on Earth 199999, we can fix this. Don't go so hard on the kid!" I exclaim, gesturing towards Miles. He puts one hand on his hip, and another up to drag across his face, stretching it out.

"No, no, Y/N. He blew another hole in the multiverse! And that little...nerd and Doctor Strange fixed it. Not me! I'm just there to clean up stuff they don't know about so their lives can continue on, all happy and perfect!"

We all stay silent. Hobie lets out a low whistle, and Lyla appears on my shoulder. "I think he's projecting again," she whispers in my ear.

Miguel gestures for me to come over, once his platform has hit the ground, and I sigh, walking over.

"Can you just-just take my side on this? You've seen what these things can do," he murmurs lowly.

"Frankly, I think you should go lighter on him. He hasn't been here for more than 10 minutes, this is all very new. Quit yelling!"

"Uh-oh, mommy and daddy are fighting!" We hear a different, slightly older voice calling.

Hobie calls out. "Oh boy! Humbling reality Spider-Man has arrived!"

Miguel's whole body tenses, and his eyes shut with annoyance and anger. I turn to the door, and in walks Peter B. Parker. The man who practically trained Miles, and the man who thinks he's Miguel's best friend.

He walks in wearing a pink robe over his spider suit, and a baby carrier, but, no baby. He chuckles, a warm smile on his face. "Besides, Y/N's right, don't be so hard on the kid. He had a terrible teacher! He had no chance!"

"Peter!" Miles bounds over to him, giving him a big hug. Peter chuckles, patting his head. "Hey, kid! Don't mind my friend Miguel here, he looks scary but he's got no bite!"

Miguel growls, turning his back towards everyone, mumbling some curses, followed by Peter's name. Peter then makes eye contact with me. "Y/N! You're getting so big!" Miguel turns his head around sharply, his eyes glowing and his fangs baring with rage at his comment.

He winces immediatley. "Forget I said that."

Miles begins to ask him a string of questions, but his eyes travel down to the baby carrier. "Wait-what's is that? You have a baby!" He asks, pointing to it. Peter pats the carrier proudly.

"I have a baby!" He exclaims, mimicking Miles' excitement. At that perfect moment, Mayday crawls down from the ceiling, cooing. I get happy instantly, and she sees me, and squeals. She begins crawling on the walls, cooing and talking to herself in a string of babbles as I wave towards her, beckoning her over.

"Kid's an anarchist," Hobie mutters to himself. I frown at him, but I can't help but feel a bit of amusement at this.

"Don't forget to keep your daypass on, honey!" He calls out. He chuckles, and he begins to climb up the wall too, calling out to his child. Miguel shakes his head, letting his head rest in his hand, muttering "no puedo más," in a low, stressed voice. I put a hand on his back.

"Sólo aligerar (just lighten up), it's a baby, amor."

"¡No voy a entrar en esto ahora mismo! (I am not getting into this right now!)" He hisses, I hold my hands next to my head, signalling fake surrender, and turn back to father and daughter.

Peter laughs, reaching out for Mayday, but she swings away with her own webshooters. She swings next to me, landing on one of the consoles, and I pick her up, nuzzling my nose against hers.

"I knew I was gonna regret making her that webshooter, I shouldn't have done it, that's an actual mistake." Peter hops down, watching me as I play with Mayday. She reaches out to Miguel, and I put her on his shoulder. Besides, I'm not supposed to be carrying anything heavier than 20 pounds. Miguel just stares ahead. Peter perks up again, taking out his phone. "You guys wanna see pictures?"

He runs over to Miles and Gwen, putting his arms around their shoulders.

"Are-are you sure? She's right there..." Gwen trails off when Peter turns on his phone. "This one is the studious one, and-and, oh! The next one you're gonna crack up! Oh-oh, Miguel's gonna die" He laughs. I beam at him. He seems so proud and such a loving father. I put a hand over my pregnant belly.

Peter runs over to Miguel, showing him pictures. "You know I'm trying to hold a serious, adult conversation here," Miguel says quietly as he tries to keep staring ahead. Mayday crawls all over him, sometimes hitting him gently. Peter groans.

"You know, you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny, we're supposed to be funny!"

"The fate of the multi-verse-"

"You always lose me with that!. You say "the fate of the multiverse," and my brain dies!" He exclaims. Mayday rolls on Miguel's shoulder, sqeualing when she falls. Miguel catches her, holding her like a....football. I roll my eyes. "Será mejor que no seas así cuando tenga a tus hijos (you better not be like this when I have your children)," I say to him. He shakes his head, his eyes wide with shock and offense. "Wha-I-no! I'm just not the biggest fan of the Parkers! Sabes que puedo ser muy amoroso cuando él no está aquí para molestarme, ¿verdad, mi amor? (you do know I can be very loving when he isn't here to annoy me, right my love?)" He says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice to a level so that only I could hear it. I put my hands on my hips, giving him a 'then show it,' look. Peter puts his hand over his heart in mock offense.

"Wow, you truly hurt me. And Mayday. You want a baby's feelings being hurt on your conscience?" He stops, and sniffs the air, then looks at Mayday. "You smell that guys? Mayday took a crap. She's a Parker!" He calls out, taking her from Miguel and walking towards where he came in. "That's what hapens when a Parker eats an avocado..."

Miguel sighs, walking over to me and putting his forehead on the top of my head defeatedly, shutting his eyes. He's exhausted, I know that, and our height difference allows us some very interesting advantages. I reach around his neck and pat his head like a little kid as I watch Hobie pick Mayday up, saluting her.

Miguel straightens again, stepping away from me. He addresses Miles again, this timecalmer, but he's still annoyed. With everyone around him. Well, not me. I smirk. He could never be too annoyed with me.

"Miles," he begins, putting his hands on his hips. "You disrupted a canon event.

"Canon event?" Miles asks, but before Miguel can explain, Peter B. pops up again, a full spider web now formed as Mayday crawls and bounces on it.

"The kid wasn't thinking. That's not how he works!"

"That's insulting."

Miles takes a few steps to the right, looking at the ground thinking. "Wait," he looks bakc up at Miguel. Miguel raises his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "What are you upset about, I saved those people!"

Miguel fully steps off his platform. I give him a look, silently shushing him.

I take a step towards Miles, putting a hand on his shoulder, looking at him. "That, unfortunatley, is the problem here," I sigh, looking at him, implying an apology with my tone. Confusion is etched onto his face, and I can't blame him.

"Lyla," Miguel calls out. The hologram appears. "Do the thing."

"The thing?" I ask. Lyla smirks. "What thing?" She continues for me.

"What do you mean, what thing? The information explain-y thing!"

I scoff, taking my hand off of Miles' shoulder. "You're sounding like a mob boss, sweetie. We're not that kind of powerful," I tease, poking him in the side. Lyla laughs, but pulls up the vast, complicated web of canon events, similarities, and differences of all the Spider-People.

"Woah."

Miles steps forward, turning in a circle around himself, oogling at the intricate design.

"What's this?" He breathes out.

"This, is everything."

#miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider man into the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #miles morales #gwen stacy

[show-your-fangs]

My trauma from certain chapters of Moments might’ve come up with something for a blurb. I’d die to see Jack expressing himself over not liking Beth and some sort of moment between reader Aaron and Jack where Jack makes it clear that he sees reader as a mother figure which makes Aaron pull his head out of his ass and makes the right chooce IMMEDIATELY for once👀 Or idk maybe not even Beth related but it would be cool to see Jack not wanting to lose another mother figure

I just love my little trio of hotchner boys and reader they’re such a little family I could cry

gosh as much as i am a beth hater, i could not find a way to fit this into moments. however, chapter 24 is literally just domestic fluff so you'll be fed GOOD when it comes out.

here's just a cute little moments au blurb where jack calls reader mom and aaron almost loses it.

This is part one of two Moment AU asks that I thought would go perfectly together.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 788

CW: nothing, just fluff.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

"Can we invite mom to dinner?" Jack's question filled the quiet apartment with a heaviness that Aaron couldn’t quite understand. Haley had just dropped the boy off at his apartment after spending the better part of the week at her place.

"Buddy, I don't think mom wants to come all the way here—” 

“Did I do something wrong?” Jack practically whimpered and Aaron was rendered speechless once more, his brows scrunching further. That just made the poor boy look even more disheartened. His round eyes practically bursting as he tried to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to offend. 

Aaron crossed the room to him in an instant, crouching down to his level as he sat at the dinner table finishing up on some school work. 

“You did nothing wrong, buddy,” he said, gently, making sure that the words settled. “I just don’t think we should ask your mom to come over for dinner when she just spent the week with you.”

“I don’t wanna invite mommy to dinner,” Jack corrected him, as if he’d been correct this entire time and it was his dad who was not getting it. “I wanna invite mom.”

It took Aaron a few seconds to blink away the misunderstanding, confusion twisting into shock. Jack had called you mom, Jack had just…called you mom. A smile crept up on Aaron’s lips, one that Jack matched instantly as he realized his dad had just understood him. 

“Do you want to call mom and invite her to dinner?” he asked the boy and he lit up like never before. Aaron pulled out his phone and immediately called you, putting it on speaker phone and handing the device over to Jack as he returned to the kitchen. 

“Hi, honey,” your voice was warm and inviting and he wanted nothing more than to respond to you, but he wanted to experience your shock, the shock that Jack had just given him, more than anything. 

“Mom!” Jack practically screamed into microphone.

“Hi, angel,” Aaron could hear you stifle a sob and he couldn’t help but tear up with you. 

“Hi!” Jack was too hyper, getting any words in difficult. “Dad’s making dinner!”

“What’s he making?”

“Dad!” Aaron couldn’t help the laugh that erupted, so much screaming, so much energy. He walked out of the kitchen and took the phone from the boy, turning off speakerphone before he addressed you.

“He’s making boxed Mac n Cheese with hot dogs,” Aaron replied, a smile in his voice. 

“Aaron—” you sobbed into his ear.

“I know, he got me too.”

“Did you know?”

“No,” he chuckled. “But I definitely do now.”

“Dad, give me back the phone!” Jack whined, pulling on Aaron’s arm until he could press his mouth to the microphone once more. “Can you come to dinner, please?” 

He stretched out that last word until he was gasping for breath, making both you and Aaron laugh. 

“Yes, angel, I’ll be there in a second, alright?” 

“Mmkay!” 

“I’ll see you soon, mom,” Aaron teased.

“I’m fully sobbing at a red light, just so you know,” you tried to make him feel bad but it honestly didn’t matter. Jack saw you as his mom, and nothing could take that away from you.

“I love you,” Aaron said. 

“I love you too.”

Jack was engrossed in his worksheet once he finally hung up the phone. Aaron watched him for a second, how his tongue stuck out of his mouth while he concentrated, how he gripped the pencil in his hand like it would somehow slip away, how all of his things had spread out across the table as if he quite literally owned the place. 

Jack had that effect on people, that easy way of taking over someone's heart in a way that only you could do as well. Aaron had been sure from the first time he introduced the two of you that you were soulmates, that he was meant to bring the two of you together.

Jack loved you so much it was overwhelming at times, his own kid clearly trying to one up him at every turn. But it didn't matter, Aaron knew Jack was your favorite, even if you constantly reassured him that you loved both your boys equally.

“Would you like her to be your mom forever?” He asked. 

Jack nodded enthusiastically, pencil dropping and attention back to his dad. “And ever and ever.”

Aaron smiled brightly, fully, like the sun had taken control of him and he couldn’t stop. It was a silent promise, a definitive choice, a reminder of the small velvet box he’d hidden in the back of his closet a few days ago.

“Do you want to help me ask her?”

jack is my perfect child and i would kill for him

requests are still open for hotch and i am trying to get to the ones i've received. it's taking me a second because of just how many other open projects i've got, but trust me, they will get done.

tags: @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner, @criminalskies, @xladyxdreamer

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #show your fangs writes #show your fangs hotch blurbs #show your fangs moments au

[captain-mj]

Just thought of something. Immortal Deity Ghost x Regular human Soap? Like, Soap is literally just a guy and Ghost is smitten.

Smut please, my monster-fucker heart needs this please

Got it, don't even worry my guy

Ghost loved Soap. He thought of him nearly constantly. Something about him had enraptured him.

Soap was currently doing the dishes, scrubbing them carefully. His smile was perfect. It lit up the entire room.

Ghost purposely made the plants around him bloom and turn greener. He loved Soap dearly.

Soap started to cook. Ever since he found out about the... thing in his house, he always made a bit extra. He'd put it on a plate near by and leave it on the table or by the window. It was a funny sense of worship, one Ghost was familiar with in some ways. People usually buried or burned offerings for him. They didn't offer it on a plate.

Ghost took them regardless. He still wasn't sure how Soap noticed him. Maybe it was the plants or changing the weather around Soap's house when he mentioned he'd prefer something else. Or Soap could just sense him.

Regardless, Soap was great. He called him Ghost because he thought he was a ghost which was a little funny.

Ghost found himself liking the name. A lot actually. Currently, he was very happily tangled around the apartment. His form could change on a whim, but for right now, he was more of an idea. A thought.

And Soap thought about him a lot.

Right now, he was going over the events of his day and how he wished Ghost had been at his work as he could've used the help. Apparently, the coffee never tasted right, unlike when Ghost made it.

Ghost really just made the best rated coffee in the area appear in the coffee pot. He did it on purpose, liking that Soap found him useful for things.

Soap laid back and really relaxed in his bed. "Ghost, are you watching me?"

Always.

"No. I give you privacy in your bedroom. You know that." His voice came from all around him. It was partially true. He never watched Soap doing anything private. Like undressing or showering. But he did gaze upon Soap as if he were a shiny object in his possession.

Soap nodded and started to unzip his pants.

Ghost noted that Soap had been doing this more lately. When he did, Ghost always blocked out that room entirely so he had no clue what Soap was thinking about or feeling. Sometimes, it was tempting.

For the first time ever, Ghost did not turn away. He watched him.

Everything Soap did was so alluring. He'd do funky things. One of Ghost's favorite things was watching Soap load the washing machine.

Soap started to stroke himself, biting his lip. He groaned and his back arched a little. His thoughts were so easy to read.

Him.

Ghost's voice.

The mock Ghost in his head was a little off, wrong in the way all human memories are. It told him to keep stroking himself or pushing his finger deeper before telling him to stop right as he got close. Soap continued to edge himself, pretending it was Ghost's orders to do so.

"Johnny." Ghost spoke softly, adding a little power to it so the glass in the room would shake. "What are you doing? I can sense your mounting frustration."

Soap stared at the ceiling, frozen. "I... um..."

"I should've corrected you much sooner." Ghost said softly. "May I enter your room?"

Soap, cock still in hand, flushed and quickly covered himself up. "Yeah."

The door opened and smoke filled the doorway until Ghost was there. His hands were on the doorframe with his body leaning in. "You think about me?"

"You can hear my thoughts?"

"I can hear your thoughts about me. I'm not actually a ghost, ya know. A ghost couldn't make your plants bloom or brew coffee for you. They'd be too busy screaming about their woes."

Soap couldn't focus on Ghost. It was hard to when he looked like nothing but dozens of shifting overlapping shadows.

Ghost became more solid, though slightly less human. Long claws and a skull over where his face should be. One thing was alarmingly, horribly human, was his eyes.

Soap panted softly and started to scramble back. A little late for that. Ghost had been feeding off so many offerings and so many thoughts. He had more than enough power to squash Soap like an insect.

That would never happen though.

Especially when his most devoted follower currently had a leaking, hard problem between his legs.

"Why stay here if you're not a ghost?"

"And leave my devotee? How cruel of a god I would be." Ghost loved Soap. He loved him so dearly. And the idea of pleasing him... "I could help you. Won't even make you pray for it."

Soap stared at him, almost shaking. But his legs slowly relaxed and then spread. "Please."

Ghost shifted. He put his hand next to Soap's head. "You've prepped yourself so lovingly for me too. You're gorgeous."

Soap panted softly and his skin broke out in goosebumps when Ghost's body touched his. Shivers wracked through his body.

Ghost yanked him around and pulled Soap's hips higher up. Soap's clothing burned away where Ghost's flesh pressed against him. He finally got a good look at him.

Soap closed his eyes and just relaxed and felt everything. The hands against him. Cold and unrelenting and promising everything Soap wanted.

Then Ghost held him close and lined up. Soap dug his nails into the hard flesh of his... shoulders? and shifted so he was more open. He made an error and he realized that quickly when he realized how big Ghost was. A little whimper came out of his throat.

Ghost pressed against his chest, cheek to cheek. His lips were right next to Soap's ear. "I've seen your toys ya know. I know you can take me."

Soap whimpered more, feeling Ghost stretch him out with the slow way he pushed in. The burn was perfect. Somehow, he knew Ghost did that on purpose. He wasn't sure how Ghost could know. It hurt so much but it was exactly how Soap liked it. Pleasure racing through him.

As soon as it didn't feel like Soap would tear in half, Ghost started to speed up until he was pounding into him. Something extremely exact and in an exact rhythm. His tummy had a small dent in it from how big Ghost was and watching it disappear and reappear made Soap's head spin.

After so long being edged, he came all over himself. Sobbing as he desperately grabbed his headboard.

Ghost didn't even stall. Though he clearly enjoyed the way Soap spasmed with his orgasm, the way his back arched and that his muscles tightened, it didn't affect him at all.

Sharp claws dug into Soap's hips until blood flowed.

He opened his mouth and felt Ghost's tongue lick into his mouth. Blood filled Soap's mouth but he couldn't figure out where he had gotten cut.

Soap felt himself getting close again and Ghost stopped, leaving him stuttering.

"Do you enjoy denial?" Ghost asked curiously. "It's so strange. Usually humans are all about gratification. Wanting things then and now." He ignored Soap's desperate, sobbing face as he tried to fuck himself back on Ghost's cock. He twisted wrong and groaned as he missed his prostate and just went deep. HIs eyes fluttered.

"Control."

"Denial seems to be the opposite of control."

"Exactly. Want someone else to control everything."

Ghost grinned. "I can do that. I can definitely do that. I can control it all."

Soap couldn't look at him. His smile hurt his head.

It started again and Soap moaned and prayed.

"Yes, please keep going. Keep going. I need it. Need you."

Ghost lifted Soap's leg to deepen the angle and continued to fuck him hard. Soap felt what he was pretty sure was Ghost coming inside him. As he kept fucking him with no abandon, he could feel it coming out and running down his thighs. So much.

"Let me finish, let me come, come on, I'll be good. Let you do this whenever you want I promise, just please." Soap wouldn't dare touch himself. He looked at Ghost, managing to make eye contact.

Ghost hummed and this time didn't stop. He let Soap finally finish, enjoying the ecstasy that they shared.

Soap screamed when Ghost melted all over him. A blink of an eye later and Ghost was quickly solid again.

"Sorry, didn't think about how scary that would be for you." Ghost laughed and pulled out, watching the way Soap's ruined hole gushed with cum. "Any time I want huh?"

Soap nodded and Ghost felt a burst of love. "Any time."

"It's a good thing you have so much stamina then."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

[intoxicated-chan]

Hey hun saw your requests for the hobbit was open, can I request elrond? Now obviously reader is insecure cause elrond a fair bit older than her/him, and doesn't want elrond to see them as naive. Also the whole elves only love once drives a hard wedge. Do as you please let those creative juices flow like no tomorrow, have a great week hun❤️

𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤? 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐞?

Summary ➳ Ever since you learned how Elves truly ages, thoughts have been plaguing your mind, luckily Elrond is there to ease your thoughts.

(A/n) ➳ You have a wonderful week too! Thanks for requesting, if there is anything incorrect then please don’t be afraid to correct me. Thanks for reading!

Word Count ➳ 770

Content Warnings ➳ Gender Neutral Reader, OOC Elrond, miscommunication? Insecurities, angst-to-fluff, pet names (Meleth nîn), mentions of the afterlife…

Arewn sat across from you, your eyes glued to the book you’d been studying for the past three weeks. You had asked her for a favor and she happily agreed without listening, she was very patient with you and didn’t question why you wanted to learn Elvish but she knew. It just made her happy you and her father were getting closer and closer. She hadn’t seen him happy for quite some time.

“What is the Elvish word for trust?” She asked, watching you closely as you tapped your finger on the wooden table and flipped through the pages. “It starts with an E.” She gave you a hint after a couple of moments of silence.

“E… E… Estel!” You spoke proudly, only for her to shake her head and laugh lightly. “It’s not?”

“No, it’s Estellio.” You huffed and closed the book, running your fingers through your hair in frustration. “You’ve been studying non-stop. I can see the dark circles that form under your eyes, I hear you through the halls. What’s wrong?”

You fumbled over your words, your eyes wandering around the room, and forming noncoherent sentences. Her hands come to clasp your hands together. “You know you can tell me anything? If you are having any troubles then you know I can take care of it.” She said rather sternly which was unusual for Arwen.

“It’s not like that.” You quickly corrected which made her relax. “I… I’m just worried about what Elrond thinks of me.”

“Why? Did something happen-” She froze for a moment. “You know he loves you. I know it. It may not be my place to say it but I know it’s true. But if you are thinking of this, please, talk to him. I know he will put your mind at ease.” She smiled.

Before you could say anything else in paranoia, she snatched the book from your reach and shoo’ed you off. You walked out of the library and slowly walked to your shared bedroom. A walk that usually took you no less than a few minutes to nearly a half hour.

You were trying to put the conversation to the side but remembered how smart Elrond was, then the next ten minutes were trying to find ways to bring it up with him. And with a deep breath, you entered the bedroom and saw him standing on the balcony of the room.

“M-Meleth nîn?” You whispered, your voice wavering slightly.

He turned to face you with a wide smile. “Your Elvish is getting better.” He walked towards you, wrapping his arms around you, and placed a kiss on your forehead. “We should celebrate, what do you think?”

“...Can we talk?” The seriousness in your voice was enough to startle him, but he collected himself and nodded. “Look, I need you to just listen until I finish, please?”

“Of course.”

“I know that Elves are immortal, and you lived so many more lives than me, more than I can count. And I’ve seen how proud you are of yourself, how everyone speaks so highly of you. It just makes me think that I’ll only be a memory.”

His hands come to your shoulder, tightly. “Is this how you feel?”

“I know I should’ve come to you immediately but I was scared.” You sobbed when he pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry.” You cried into his chest.

“Do not apologize, as someone who is supposed to be fairest and wisest, I let this go right past me. I should’ve known how this would affect you. Please, tell me anything, everything. I don’t want you to ever be afraid to speak your mind.”

“I know you love me, Elrond. But I’m just so scared of the future. For you. I don’t want you to see me as not as smart as you because of our differences.”

“My love for you is not desire or infatuation, and it will never be one-sided. You have done so much for me, and I would never deem you to be a memory if you were gone. I admire you so much, I am proud of you. Not everyone can master Elvish and even attempting is difficult. Please, do not let your worries affect how you feel. Come to me and we’ll talk.”

You closed your eyes and nodded, letting out a cracked okay under your breath. You held him close, tight, but no longer afraid or scared. You felt relaxed in his arms.

“I love you Elrond.”

“I love you too, (Y/n). Even in the afterlife, I’ll find you and continue to love you.”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2023, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

#x reader #fluff #x gender neutral reader #elrond #elrond x reader #elrond x you #lotr x y/n #lotr x you #lotr x reader #lord of the rings #lord of the rings x reader #the hobbit x y/n #the hobbit x you #hobbit x reader #the hobbit x reader

[steddiealltheway]

Steve confesses to Robin that he has a crush on Eddie. She has a minor shut down moment and asks under her breath, “Why do all the gays flock together?” - having had both Max and Will come out to her recently.

She’s hesitant about Steve’s crush because… the bandana. And Steve isn’t dumb, he knows when Robin isn’t saying something she wants to. So, when he asks what’s wrong with Eddie, she asks Steve, “Have you heard of the hanky code?”

Steve shakes his head.

“It’s… it’s a gay code. Like people put a certain color handkerchief in a certain back pocket to flag others about what type of sex they want,” Robin explains, knowing her description isn’t as in-depth as the code, but hoping that will make Steve get the point.

“Okay?” Steve says as he doesn’t connect the dots.

“Steve… have you noticed the black bandana in Eddie’s back left pocket?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve says. Robin gives him a look. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’ is right.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow together. “So what does it mean?”

Robin links her fingers together and takes a deep breath. “I’m not one hundred percent sure. Just about ninety-nine point nine nine percent sure. Plus, I did some research with Nancy who also noticed. And we’ve come to a conclusion. Granted… it may not be the correct one but-”

Steve puts his hand on Robin’s wrist and pleads, “Robin.”

“It’s for sadism and masochism top,” Robin finally blurts out. Steve freezes. “Please tell me you know that means because I really really don’t want to explain it to you.”

Steve scoffs, “Of course I know what that means.” His eyes widen. “Not like… I know it like that,” he clarifies.

Robin nods as Steve processes the information. She hesitates before saying, “I just… thought you should know before you said anything to him. That doesn’t seem like… you. Especially after the whole Russians and getting a plate smashed over your head-”

“Yeah, Rob. I got it,” Steve says. He runs a hand through his hair. “And you’re right. Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course,” Robin replies sincerely before launching into a full monologue about her time spent researching with Nancy.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve finds himself staring at Eddie while hanging out with him - specifically at the black bandana. And truly, he can’t see how Eddie could have that side to him. He’s not kink shaming, but Eddie’s just so… sweet and caring.

Plus, when Eddie had been recovering from the bat bites, he had confessed that he felt kind of bad for killing and hurting the bats. Even though they had been eating him alive. “Some metal things we have to leave to the heroes,” Eddie had explained, ignoring when Steve insisted he was a hero too.

Steve snaps out of the memory when Eddie waves his hand in front of his face. “I was starting to worried that maybe Vecna was back,” Eddie jokes. Steve’s learned that’s one of his coping mechanisms as Nancy calls it.

“Just lost in thought,” Steve replies.

“About what?”

Steve stares at Eddie. What an unintentionally loaded question. “You,” he replies without thinking.

“Steve Harrington, what could you possibly be thinking about me? Pray tell,” Eddie says with the widest grin.

Well, he asked for it. So here goes nothing. “I like you,” Steve states, watching Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Like, I really like you. And I was going to tell you, but Robin implied something that I didn’t know how to bring up.”

Eddie nods his head, eyebrows furrowed, but his expression remains frozen, processing what Steve has said. He does this for a few seconds and suddenly snaps out of it. “Wait, what did Robin say?”

Steve swallows. “You know that black bandana you wear?”

Eddie nods in response.

“Well, Robin explained it to me. And while that’s cool and everything. It’s just… not me. You know, after the whole getting tortured by Russians thing-”

“The what?”

“I don’t think I’m ready for any of… that. But hey, it’s cool that you’re so open about that. Plus, it must be fun to talk in code. I mean, who knew a black bandana in your left pocket could mean being a S&M top.”

“It means what?!” Eddie yells, standing up, face in full shock.

“You know, sadism and masochism… but why am I explaining that to you?” Steve says with a huff of laughter.

Eddie stares down at Steve in horror.

“Wait…” Steve trails off. “You didn’t know it meant that?”

Eddie throws his hands up and begins pacing. “I just thought it made me look cool! Jesus H. Christ! I’ve been wearing that bandana for months and-” He abruptly stops and looks at Steve. “Did you say you liked me?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie sits down and puts his head in his hands. “Hold on. Let me process everything you’ve told me.”

Steve patiently waits, staring as Eddie seems to go through a mini crisis for a few minutes. Steve checks his watch a couple of times, wondering if he should ask Eddie if he’s okay or leave him to his inner turmoil.

As Steve checks his watch for the fifteenth time, Eddie sits up and sighs. “I think I’m okay now.” He looks at Steve and says, “Nope, I’m definitely not.”

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks.

Eddie leans forward poking Steve’s chest. “You like me?” Eddie finishes the thought, poking his own chest.

Steve nods.

Eddie continues staring.

Steve offers him an awkward smile.

Eddie stares harder and nods. “Cool. Cool. That’s cool…” he trails off. “And you’re sure about that?”

Steve laughs. “Yes, Eddie.”

A thought crosses Eddie’s mind. He asks, “Will you kiss me, if I promise I’m not a S&M top?”

Steve laughs again and replies, “Yes.”

Eddie dramatically whips the bandana out of his back pocket and drops it on the ground, immediately rushing forward to meet Steve who was already leaning in for a sickeningly sweet kiss.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #I love the hanky code #but I also love the idea of eddie having no idea what it means #hence the idea

[cryptidghostgirl]

The Line (Port Mafia!Dazai x Port Mafia!Reader)

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x Reader

Description: Something is there, but if they both pretend it isn't, then everything is okay.

Warnings: Angsty but also more fluff than angst I think, mafia stuff, bomb talk, its Dazai so double suicide mentioned once. Sex also mentioned in passing like once. I think that is it, please correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 1,262

Master Lists:

All Master Lists 

Bungou Stray Dogs Master List

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

A/N so i found a screenshot of this tumblr post of this quote on pinterest and besties,, I am running with it. I will add the quote in at the end.

Was it his hand on the small of her back? Was it the feeling of his whispered breaths against the shell of her ear? When had the line been crossed, if it had been crossed at all? Neither really seemed to know where it had even been drawn in the first place. Perhaps that was the trouble with it all.

Danger was a part of life for those unlucky enough to call themselves members of Yokohama's notorious Port Mafia. It was the only constant, in Y/n's eyes. Well, danger and Dazai, but they were kind of one in the same, weren't they?

"Belladonna."

The same low, constant hum. She looked up from her desk.

Dazai stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with an aloof air. He'd grown quite a bit in the two years since she had met him. She supposed she must have grown as well but, somehow, he still seemed to be exactly the same. It was the calculating quality of his gaze. It was the smirk, the way the light glinted off his hair.

"That's new."

Y/n gestured towards the man with the end of the pen she grasped in her hand. Almost without thought, he raised a hand of his own to the bandage on his left cheek.

"I suppose it is."

They were never supposed to have even met one another in the first place. Their jobs were ones that should have pulled them far apart from each other's graces. He was an executive, after all, and she was just a lowly clerk. She dealt with numbers, paying off people who needed paying off, covering up the footprints of great men like him. He was supposed to send his subordinates to deal with her. That was what everyone else always did. Dazai wasn't like everyone else though, was he.

"I've got something for you." he stated, straightening up and taking a few steps into the room, his hands firmly in the pockets of his coat.

Y/n raised her eyebrows.

"What is it, another job?"

"A present."

Dazai pulled a box from his pocket, snapping it down on top of the work Y/n had splayed out over the desk's surface before her. It was large and flat. She eyed it suspiciously.

"It wont bite."

"You do."

"I said it, didn't I?"

"What is it, a bomb? Think it would be funny to watch me struggle to deal with something like that?"

"Don't give me any ideas." Dazai playfully replied.

"Is it full of anthrax? I have already told you, I have no interest in committing a double suicide."

"Just open it."

The Mafia was a dangerous place, those who worked there lead dangerous lives. There was no denying the living, breathing thing between Y/n and Dazai but... there was no place for such a creature here. Besides, neither of them would know what to do about it if there was. They had both forgotten how to be gentle long ago, were unsure if it had ever been in their nature in the first place. All that was left was the sharpness.

Hesitantly, Y/n picked the dark red box up and opened the lid. Nestled in the black velvet of the interior was a necklace. It was old, an antique locket of sorts with a few flowers engraved on its oval front.

"Nightshade." she commented.

"Made me think of you, Belladonna."

That was one of the things that helped tow the line, the invisible and complex line. Y/n never called Dazai anything other than his last name and Dazai only referred to her as 'Belladonna.' At first, the name had irritated her. It had felt like a denial of her personhood, her individuality. That was before she had known there had been a line to cross at all. She was older now, wiser. She looked back up at him.

"How sweet." she bitterly replied.

Dazai smiled his lazy smile in response. A girl could give up everything for a smile like that, even her life. Y/n wouldn't though. If she was willing to, that was mean it was all lost. They would have crossed the line long ago, if that were true. They couldn't have that. The line was what kept them safe, kept hem sheltered, kept them. He closed the distance, stepping up beside her in the space behind her desk.

"Here."

Long, slender fingers snaked around the locket's delicate chain, pulling it from its bed. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as his fingers brushed against the back of her neck, securing the necklace. It felt heavy against her chest, a foriegn weight that seemed to cut right through her skin to her bones below. Gently, he slipped a hand under her chin, tilting her face up to him.

"Perfect." he hummed.

Had they already crossed it? Was it too late? If so, what had been the deciding factor? Was it the late nights up on the roof, talking till the sun rose? Was it the knocks at her door at odd hours? Had it been their legs tangled together beneath the covers night after night, no sex required?

"Thank you."

What needed to happen, what change had to occur for them to be able to say the words that echoed in the backs of their minds?

Dazai's hand lingered on her face for a moment longer. Y/n mourned the warmth of his touch as he dragged his fingers from her.

"I have to go."

Y/n sighed, turning back to her messy desk.

"The work of a Mafioso is never complete, is it."

A statement, not a question. Dazai let out a light laugh in agreement. Y/n picked her pen back up, listening intently to his footsteps as he crossed back over to the door. At the sound of a pause, a hesitation in the pattern, she looked back up.

"Same time same place?"

She smiled. Tonight, the kitchens. Stolen food, stolen time. Stolen kisses too most likley.

"Yeah."

Belladonna. Something poisonous, something detrimental. Something completely and entirely his, if he was brave enough to take her. Dazai wasn't so sure he was, not right now at any rate. Dazai was a man who didn't like uncertainties. In fact, he avoided them at all nearly costs. He didn't know if the day would ever come when the bravery or the assurance would arrive. With things as they were now, it felt inevitable. A ticking bomb, a precariously placed glass. One wrong move, and everything would shatter.

With a curt nod, he disappeared back out into the hallway. Y/n listened to his footsteps against the carpet of the hall as he retreated, picturing the way he must look in the moment, wondering where he was off to.

The line was there, the brick wall between them. They both knew it. How far was too far? Was it holding hands as they walked down the street, checking to make sure no one could see? They already did that. They already did a lot of things. Maybe... maybe the line would dissolve when the fear left or, maybe, when it felt more manageable, they would be able to cross it, if they hadn't already.

How far was too far?

Y/n reached her hand up to her chest, fingering the cool silver of the locket where it hung at her collar. Maybe, just maybe, they had gone to far already. Maybe the world was already falling down around them, they just hadn't noticed it yet.

----

Here is the quote that inspired this:

#dazai bsd #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader angst #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x y/n #mafia!dazai x mafia!reader #mafia dazai #mafia reader #port mafia #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #x reader #mild angst

[slutt4ellie]

Sacred Hearts Entwined

PT2 Faithful Whispers

Ellie Williams x Reader

Part 1 -> ✞

Part 3 -> ✞

What do you do when you’re falling hopelessly in love with your best friend.?

Summery: Ellie was supposed to be a friend, are the feelings that are corrupting you worth it? Why did you kiss her, why even risk it. Now you’re going to lose her.

Warnings -> A lot of Homophobia / arraigned marriage/ angst / Controlling parents / d slur is mentioned! / (lmk if I missed anything else!)

Tag list: @a-little-bit-of-everybody @bready101 @lenaloveslesbians

WC: 3.8k

(Not proofread)

(Ellie)

My mouth tastes like iron and everything is numb, it went from pure lust to rage and anger in a matter of seconds. I just keep thinking, “Could I have prevented it?”. Should I have pushed her back as soon as our lips met, tell her this is wrong, everything that my parents would have strongly preferred. Am I the one who fucked up in the end…? It’s not like it matters anyway, I can still hear the muffled yells coming from downstairs, he's arguing with my mom, she's against the boarding school idea, she believes I was corrupted or something, she fully believes they can fix me, no correction system needed. My dad on the other hand wants me gone, he can’t even bear to look me in my eyes. I’m like some foreign alien that just snuck inside our house and took its place as me, I know for a fact as of now he wishes he could just find the “Real me”.

(30 minutes previously) 

As I heard the door swing open I quickly pushed Ellie back, wiping my lips, my eyes now meeting with her father. Shit. I step back looking at him wondering if he even saw us. He quickly talks, his voice strained, filled with anger “What were you guys doing?” Ellie looks at me, her eyes already filled with tears, all I wanted to really do was just hug her, he quickly yells “I SAID WHAT WERE YOU GUYS DOING!” I just shake my head and spit out “Nothing!” My voice is filled with nervousness and it feels like I just embarrassed myself. “I should have known, you guys were always too close, having sleepovers and sleeping in the same bed!” Ellie just spits out wiping her own tears “There’s nothing going on dad! We’re friends!” Then his attention fully shifts to me, he steps closer to the point where I need to step back in order to not make any contact. It’s like something just shifts, like he figured the “truth”.

“All those sleepovers, were you guys-” I almost immediately shut down what he was about to say, my voice now more stable. “No!” And as I finish my sentence he grabs my collar which makes tears instantly form in my eyes. “You ruined her. Ellie wasn’t like this before you.” I hated that argument, we met at six, nothing was even there, none of those feelings were even formed until almost 9 years later. It was bullshit, and for some stupid reason I spit that out “Thats fucking bullshit!”. I covered my mouth right after finishing the sentence, I just dug my own grave and that realization was becoming apparent. His grip on my collar tighten and he gets uncomfortably close to my face “You’re a fucking dyke, and you had to drag Ellie into that.” I can see Ellie step forward, her head peeking over his shoulder, tears still streaming down her face as her eyes get puffy and red “Dad let her go! Please” I can’t help but feel like I ruined Ellies life, I was the one who leaned in and kissed her and now- now we're both going to be sent away.

Unlucky for me Ellie's dad doesn't even pay attention to anything she's saying all his attention is fully focused on me “You’ll never see her again.” The way he says it sticks to the back of mind, because I know it's true, the chances of me and Ellie ever even being friends again is most likely over. So now I start crying. It feels like I just lost everything in less than an hour. Ellie grabs him and attempts to pull him back, but as soon as she even lays a finger on her he turns around slapping her with no hesitation. 

Ellies nose starts bleeding and her cheek glows red, and once his attention isn't on me and his grip is loose I run over to Ellie as she cuffs her nose. I quickly rolled up my sleeve to wipe the blood from her nose. I talk stuttering over every word “fuck- are- Ellie are yo- are you okay?” I’m now starting to hyperventilate on the brink of a panic attack but Ellie just nods fast. Ellie’s dad immediately rushes over to us, and no not to help Ellie, he rushes over to grab me by the back of my shirt to pull me away from Ellie. “LEAVE” He yells at me, but this time I don’t budge, Ellie is still fucking bleeding and all his attention is still focused on me, he won’t even look at Ellie.

I push him back literally just trying to make sure Ellie is okay but before I even can, she spits out “Just leave..” her voice is quivering and cracking, I can tell she just doesn’t want me to get hurt. So I finally stepped back. I can tell just by the way she's looking at me this is goodbye, at least for a while..

(Present) 

I get home and just by the way my parents are watching me I can tell Ellie's parents called them, I assumed they would, at the end of the day as soon as we got caught kissing I knew everything was fucked. “You and Ellie, you’re fucking sneaking around dating” My dad says stepping closer to me, my energy just completely gone and I sigh tiredly not being able to take this outdated homophobic shit. “Me and Ellie are frie-” My mom talks fast, not even allowing me to finish my sentence “YOU WERE KISSING HER, YOU. SNUCK. OUT.” She yells at me standing beside my dad, I can’t even defend myself. What do I even say “We were hugging!” I can’t do anything in this situation. My dad talks again “Pack your bags, we’re leaving in the morning” as my dad finishes my sentence I start tearing up once again. “Where am I even going!?” I yell at them, my respect is now gone, there’s zero point if I'm being sent away. Instead of answering my dad holds out his hand, his palm laying flat. “Phone” I look at him “What?” he now yells “PHONE” I pull it out of my pocket throwing it in his hand before going up the stairs quickly before slamming the door shut. 

I open my closet finding the box with all the stuff I don't want my parents EVER finding, pods, weed, vapes, etc. The one thing that was genuinely the most important thing was my pink Ipod touch mini from when I was 8. I always had it in case I got grounded and wanted to talk to friends, the good thing was I knew Ellie had one too, a blue one she got to match me, so for that reason as soon as I unlock it, I disregard everything else and just start texting her.

You

4:17 - Ellie, are you good??

4:18 - Pls answer 

Ellie 

4:19 - Parents r arguing, i think i'm gonna go to a boarding school

You

4:19 - I’m being sent away

Ellie 

4:20 - What?! 

4:20 - Where??

You 

4:20 - idfk they won't even tell me

4:21 - im so fucking sorry

Ellie

4:21 - why are you even sorry??

You

4:22 - because i started the whole thing

4:22 - If i didn’t kiss u we would be fine rn

Ellie

4:23 - dont fucking talk like that

4:23 - if u didn’t kiss me then i would have been overthinking everything rn

You 

4:24 - well we’d still be able to hang out

Ellie

4:24 - well we can figure it out? 

You

4:26 - Ellie I don't even know where the boarding school is

4:26 - chances r no service, and i wont be able to bring my phone theyre definitely gonna search my suitcase 

Ellie

4:26 - then we’ll send fucking letters idfk

You

4:27 - send letters w no address? 

Ellie

4:27 - js stop??

4:27 - we’ll figure something out dude???

You

4:29 - Ellie..

Ellie

4:29 - stop

4:29 - dont fucking add “…”

4:29 were gna be fine?

You

4:30 - u know love you

Ellie 

4:30 - i know that 

4:30 - i dont wanna lose u

You

4:31 - It’ll be alright, we’ll meet each other again and it will be fine

4:32 - promise. 

Ellie

4:32 - I love you 

Once you see that final message the gravity of the situation becomes way more tense, the last time you saw Ellie she was bleeding from her nose crying . You start packing your bags wiping tears trying to silently cry, not wanting your parents to come in. You caused this whole situation, you knew you did. If you never called her that word, you would have never snuck out, you wouldn't have kissed her, her dad wouldn’t have caught you, and chances are everything would be “perfect” at least to a degree..all you could do is stare around your room now just realizing how half of your room was covered in her

And not pictures, just resonances are her, pictures she drew of you, stuffed animals she bought, clothes you stole that still have her scent on it, everything around you had Ellie in it, she made you who you are. And as you look around your room, your eyes land on that polaroid picture. The picture was of you two, the sunset in the back and you’re just both smiling shoulder to shoulder. 

(Summer, 15 years old) 

The wind was blowing on your skin as your hair flew all around the back of your neck, Ellie was in front of you riding on her bike “Come on we're gonna miss it'' She yells trying to usher you to bike faster “The sun won’t set that fast relax!” You groan trying to push faster. “I don’t care! We’re going to miss it so push fucking faster!” She pushes faster than you so you now have to try and match her pace. “Holy shit! Can you slow down” She shakes her head and just goes faster until you guys finally make it. It’s actually really beautiful, the sun setting reflecting off the water as the pink sky illuminates all their surroundings. “Shit..” You sigh fully out of breath and Ellie just smiles at you barely watching the sunset, then you finally turn to look at her “I did not bike all the way here for you to stare at me Ellie” Her whole face turns red and she looks away “I’m not even looking at you, I just think you look gross when you’re all sweaty” The words were

slightly harsh but you try to laugh it off “Ha ha, when did you become such a comedian!” Ellie looks back at you “Oh fuck off” You smile and walk closer to the water “Wait- what are you doing??” she says looking at you quickly running up beside you  “Well you said I look sweaty so i'm going to go into the water?” Ellie sorta nods at the response “Well we don’t have bathing suits” You smile at the response “Okay?” You say taking off your shirt leaving you in just a bra. Ellie quickly turns around not looking at you. “I-uh, people” Ellie says and you just shrug “No one comes here like ever, it’s backroads?” You take off your jeans throwing them on the sand and shortly after Ellie then does the same as you not turning around since it’s awkward. “Are you looking?” Ellie asks nervously unbuttoning her own jeans “Oh yeah, hardcore staring actually!” You joke not even batting an eye towards her.

Ellie walks into the water immediately saying “Holy shit! Dude its so fucking cold!!” You laugh and impulsively splash her, getting her whole face wet. “Fuck you!” Ellie laughs jumping forward in the water taking you down with her getting you and her both fully soaked “Stop!” You laugh trying to tackle her in the water when you grab her shoulders and you both just stop trying to fight, only focusing on each other. It’s filled with silence, not awkward silence though, just the sound of the waves splashing against the shore and the breathing coming from both of your mouths..neither of you even broken eye contact..

You move your hand on her face moving a loose strand of hair out of Ellie's eyes, her whole face turns red just by the touch of you plus the intense eye contact doesn’t help. Ellie slightly leans in, not enough for it to be deemed weird but enough so now your faces are closer. You basically naturally do the same, so now at this point you're just mere inches from each other's lips. The moment comes to a short end though when a loud honking comes from the street causing you to both flinch back. The honk leads you to talk to fill the now awkward silence “We should head back, suns basically down” You smile backing away from Ellie moving your hands off her shoulder, Ellie just nods not speaking. You didn’t know it but Ellie felt like a complete idiot that day, she just simply wished she leaned in closing the gap between your lips..

(Present) 

You just fully start crying all over the polaroid, the memories flood back and you start to wonder why you guys didn’t just kiss. Let alone act like it happened, even though you guys didn’t talk about that moment you both had a mutual understanding that it would be weird to talk about it again? There was no point. You were always so dumb with your feelings, that's why it took so unbelievably long to finally start to accept that maybe you don’t think of Ellie as just some friend. Your mind is rightfully scattered and you start to think things like “If we kissed then would everything be different right now?” “Would we be together?”. You quickly shut down those thoughts, it’s not what matters right now, you don’t have a time machine and you can’t go back, plus right now you’re way too focused on the fact you have to somehow keep in contact with Ellie you guys talked almost everyday and now there’s a chance that there might be a forever absence of her presence..what are you even supposed to do?

Pack up the 10 years of friendship. Find a guy to marry just to get your parents approval, it’s not fair that way. You can’t just lose her..So found your mind was wondering the whole night thinking

of ways you could be together until you ultimately fell asleep, praying to wake up in an alternate universe where Ellie is holding you, a world where it’s just you and her. 

You wake up feeling groggy and out of place, the sun shining on you through the sheer curtains hitting right on your left eyeball. You groan and sit up not even having a minute of peace before your mom comes into your room, not even knocking. “Get dressed, the taxi is going to be here in 20 minutes” You look at her, reality finally setting again. “Where am I going..?” You try again, looking at her when she finally answers “Boarding school in Europe.” Your heart immediately sinks..”Europe?” Your voice shakes, you make eye contact with her, you want your mom to see how this is hurting you, the tears settling in your eyes. “It’s furthest away from here, so yes.” She looks at you, not an ounce of pity in her voice, she doesn’t care what you think, and there's nothing you can say to change her mind. 

“All this because I kissed Ellie..?” It’s the first time you’re actually saying it out loud and you hate yourself because it feels so wrong, and it's not because you don’t like Ellie, or you completely regret kissing her, it’s because of the look your mom gave you after you finished the sentence. It’s a look that has disgust and utter disappointment lingering all throughout it. It made you feel like you're some monster, who just wished death upon her or something. She replied her voice is still filled with disappointment. “There’s something wrong with you, and these people will fix you sweetie, I promise.” She takes a step forward and rubs your cheek yet you don’t hesitate to push her hand off. “Nothing is wrong with me!” Your mom steps back and looks at you trying to talk to you softly but realistically it was just some condescending tone that tried to convince you that you were in the wrong “Hun, Ellie and you, you guys are both sick, and it’s okay, once you both get help you’re going to understand where all of us are coming from.” You feel like you’re going to explode “Sick” she’s acting like this is some cold that will blow over and a fucking week.

“Can you get out.” You say no longer making eye contact with her, you can't bear to at this point. “What?” She says almost confused, probably thinking “I didn’t even do anything wrong”. So you talk again this time standing up “Well I need to get changed, so can you get out” You say looking at her. She just nods while walking out. You quickly get dressed and grab your suitcase, it hurts to know you won’t see this room for at least a year. 

As you're walking downstairs your dad doesn't even look at you, he just holds open the door and grabs your suitcase, throwing it into the taxi. You look at both of your parents, your mom gives you a hug but you're pity so you obviously don’t hug back. Your dad will not even look at you, it’s like you’re a fucking disappointment in his eyes..

And as you get into your car and drive away, it can’t help but hurt leaving your childhood house, neighborhood, friends, but most importantly Ellie. All the memories would fade and be replaced with new ones. It all sucked, and what was worse was that you didn’t know it now but it would be 3 years till you went back. 

I was sixteen then and now I'm nineteen. As soon as I saw “Welcome to Westborough” it almost felt eerie, my smile just instantly faded . “You okay?” My fiancé chuckles holding my hand. I quickly nod “Yeah of course” I give a simple smile. James. It was all my parents' idea. When you were 17 your parents came up with the golden Idea to get married. It would get you not so focused on her. So that's when that's where he came in. It was my moms friend's son. You’ve met him a few times. He was always nice but marrying him?! Marrying him felt so out of place. You didn’t even know him..so you just kept on denying him and it came to the point where my parents ended up forcing you, they said if you didn’t they would cut all contact, they would start telling your family the real reason why you went to Europe and you would end up losing everyone. So you agreed and at 18 he proposed and you two have been living in Europe for the time being. You felt like you just couldn’t go back to Westborough, too much has happened. 

So when the ones who forced you out of Westborough wanted you to come back to have your wedding you were silently fuming. “Soo you’re going to show me your childhood home?” James asks, smiling lightly, kissing your neck. You just sorta smile “Guess so?” You say looking out the window as you guys pull up to your house with your parents already standing on the porch. You don't even want to get out, you know Ellie most definitely has her own life and it’s probably a low chance she still even lives here but everything about being back seems so scary. 

You get out of the taxi and James goes to get your guy’s luggage as you walk up hugging your mom. You look at your dad and sorta smile, your guy's relationship has never been the same since the situation. You still believe he thinks of you as a completely different person. James walks up and shakes his hand “Hey son!” Your dad smiles at James. You walk into the house and James follows you “Where’s your room?” He smiles looking at you “Just upstairs i'll show you” He follows you upstairs walking in as he puts down your suitcase.  

You look around yourself noticing they haven’t touched anything, it looks like your parents didn’t even go into your room once. James walks over to your desk noticing the polaroid flat on your desk, you turn over to look at him and he softly says “Who’s this?” You walk up to him looking at the polaroid of you and Ellie on the beach and you shrug. “Just an old friend” He looks at her “Were you two close?” You sorta hate yourself for what you're about to say “No not really, just friends for a few months.” You only say this simply because you don’t wanna say why you never told him about a friendship that lasted 10 years, it would be too much for him..and you.. 

It shortly faded into the night, James and your dad went out to bond or something? You don’t even really know they just said that they’re heading out for a little. You look at your watch rubbing your eyes while yawning  “10:47pm” you mumble under your breath standing up..As you walk outside of your room you hear the tv going off from the first floor so you quietly go downstairs to see your mom passed out on the couch.

It sucks because you feel like you should hate her. Your whole life has constantly been controlled by your parents, they sent you away at 16 because you were “sick”. You just try to remind yourself her parents probably made her like this, so you grab a blanket and put it on your mom. You sigh walking to the front door and start putting on your jacket, you just need to walk. So that's what you do for the next 10 minutes until you make it into town, stuff has stayed the exact same, which works out in your favor because you know where the closet bar is! You open the door and there's only like 5 people in now 6 including you..And as you look over at the front bar you notice the bartender isn’t even there, you sorta just groan but reluctantly walk over and sit down. You're just looking down at the bar table when you hear the kitchen door open and a girl says “Sorry to keep you wait-” You wonder why she stopped so you decide to look up.

The girl is no other than Ellie..

A/N -> ts took so long for actually no reason 😭

again there will probably be another part since it ends on a cliffhanger, just lmk if u wanna be in the tag list and i’ll add u!!

I will also probably be making another story, i have a rough draft for it right now but i don’t rlly no what to do with the plot, that story will again also most likely have more then one part!

#loser!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #cute #ellie williams #lgbtq #the last of us #the last of us two #wlw post #wlw love #homophobia #parents #ellie williams x reader #love #lovers #angst #sad #sad angst #friends #queer #lesbian

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

oh baby, oh

pairing: jake sully x human!reader

WC: 1.1K

warnings: talks of abortion, cursing. should be it.

summary: you got knocked up, but do you want to keep it?

A/N: a anon sent a request and something just came out of me cause i wrote this in one day. i have a pregnancy fic with jake and na’vi!reader in my drafts. i wanted to do one where they decided now isnt the right time for kids cause, its not always the right time. abortion is completely fine.

masterlist

“what the hell are you saying, max?”

“…you’re pregnant?” he said it as more of a question than the statement he made just a minute ago.

your hands gripped, besides your thighs, the bench you were sitting on. your body hunched and head hung. you let your knees bounce up and down in quick segments before stopping and then starting again.

a sigh came from your nose and you looked back to max, “are you one hundred percent sure? have you done a second check? is- is the- the equipment perfect?” your throat felt strained.

max eyed his dated pad, nodded his head, and even showed you the information. your eyes darted over all the charts and words, everything was correct.

“god damn it,” you mumbled as you closed your eyes and looked to the ceiling. you could feel the tears bubbling to the surface.

“why don’t you take some time to think about this and then-“ “is abortion an option?” you cut max off. his mouth opened and closed. “max, is abortion an option?” you double down on other options than just going through with the pregnancy.

“i- i believe with- with our equipment… it might be an option. but i’m not sure. why don’t you talk with jake-“

“jake doesn’t get a say in the matter, it’s my body.” your anger was getting the best of you.

max held his hands out like you were a scared ikran, “i know. it’s ultimately your choice… but jake is the father. do you mind if i ask? when was your last period?”

you groaned, “max, i can’t keep track. it’s irregular. sometimes i get it for a few days or sometimes it lasts a month. when i didn't get it, i didn’t think anything of it until i got extremely lightheaded and wanted to throw up at the smell of jessie’s cologne.”

he hummed. and you sighed.

“max… i’m not ready to be a mom, i’m only twenty-two.” “well because of cryogenics, technically you would be twenty-eight.” max, always the scientist.

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “doesn’t make it better. i- i don’t even know if i want to be a mom.” the first tear fell, followed by more.

you felt max pull you into a hug and you instantly reciprocated with a tight hold. he rubbed soothing circles along your spine and kept telling you everything was going to be alright.

there was a knocking at the door that stole both of your attention and pulled away from each other. you turned and your heart instantly started to beat quickly. jake waited by the entrance for a second before rolling further into the sterile room. his eyes looked between max, who smiled at jake, and then to you as you wiped the moisture from your face.

he rolled his chair to your legs and set a hand on your knee, “hey, hey. what’s wrong?” you didn’t answer right away so he looked to max for anything.

“i’ll leave the two of you for some privacy.” he walked out of the room, the door closing behind him.

you toyed with your hands and bit your bottom lip. the feeling of jake’s hand was the only thing to keep you grounded right now.

“hey,” his deep voice bounced off the walls, “are you okay? what’s wrong, baby?” his thumb ran back and forth over the material of your pants. the pet name cracks your heart.

a shuddering intake of air before you let your eyes travel to meet jake. his brows were furrowed with worry and his eyes looked scared to hear the answer. his grown-out hair spiked in different directions and it made you tick a smile as you ran a hand through the brown locks.

“baby…” he took your free hand and placed a wet kiss on your knuckles. “please, please. let me know what is wrong and if i can fix it?” you decided to go the humorous and quick route to break the news.

“well, for one, you fucked up. and two… i’m pregnant.” you just bit the bullet and got the words off your chest.

the look on jake’s face was the embodiment of glass shattering. and now with your mind in shambles, you weren’t able to see the shift in jake’s eyes. how they were a deer in the headlights and then slowly soften and shined like stars in the night sky.

“fuck, jake. we haven’t even talked about kids in the future. and i’m still not sure if i would want any. i’m not good with children. i have a short temper and i like to be alone. plus i would need therapy so i wouldn’t cause generational trauma-“ “hey.”

jake gave a slight tug to your hands and dipped his head so his eyes would line with yours. you sniffled and pouted as you stared at your boyfriend. he flashed his ever-charming smile and it made your heart feel lighter already.

“for one, i’m sorry i got you pregnant. not my intention when we have sex,” a wet chuckle, “and two… whatever decision you make, i’ll be there for you.” he touched a hand to your cheek and thumbed away the salty tears.

“what- what do you think… do- do you want kids?” fingers clasped his wrist.

“i think,” he kissed your right hand, “that right now we are both a couple of idiots, who are just enjoying their time away from earth.” he grinned at you, “and kids? yeah… i would like to have a family with you one day, but i think we could have better timing. maybe… if we were able to get conscious transfers-“

“ah! i don’t believe that’s an option for us, only eywa can decide who is worthy.” you let your thoughts run with jake’s words, “but… you are fine? with waiting… if i want kids in the future? i mean, i could still not want kids years from now.”

“and that is okay. as long as i have you, that’s all that matters.”

you started getting teary, once again, but you welcomed the droplets. they were formed out of the love and happiness you had for and with jake. how he understood that this was a thing the both of you needed to talk about, but was still your choice in the end.

“i love you, you know that?” “i do, but it wouldn't hurt to hear it more often.”

you rolled your eyes at his playfulness and leaned your head toward jake. both hands holding his face and you let yourself get swept away by the intoxicating taste and feel. how his stubble scratched against your nails and the way his fingers made your skin burn hit with every touch.

jake pulled away and it caused you to whine a little as you chased his lips. his laugh made you lightheaded.

“needy, are we?” “hormones.”

and you pulled him back. and jake didn’t complain or pull away.

...

#jake sully #jake sully imagine #jake sully x reader #jake sully x female reader #jake sully fluff #jake sully angst #jake sully x human!reader #jake sully x y/n #avatar imagine #avatar x reader #avatar 2009 #james cameron avatar #avatar the way of water #erin's blurb request