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murdrdocs · 2 months

Text

to forever always

description. LUKE CASTELLAN has never had any interest in relationships. but when he sees that look in your eyes, the same one he keeps buried deep down inside of himself, there's nothing more he wants than for you to be with him. except, maybe for you to be like him.

includes. SMUT MDNI 18+ , heavy petting, grinding, making out, dark!luke, loser!luke, dark!reader, implications to maiming, luke is a professional at longing, reader has hair long enough to be pinned back, they play simon says, typical young adult awkwardness, drinking.

wc: 5.5k+

a/n: title from forever always by the driver era. ao3 link. art creds to yazed aljohani

You’ve been at camp for nearly three months when Luke sees it in your eyes.

You’ve been unremarkable at best before then. A late arrival without a capturing story carried along with you, no captivating backstory to draw attention. You stuck to yourself mostly, only coming out of your shell when conversing during training sessions with Luke. He went out of his way to set them up, fueled by the fact that you were older than most, closest to his age, and he didn’t want you to feel left behind when some thirteen year old could easily disarm you in five minutes flat.

Truth be told, he pitied you.

As a result, he trained you four times a week, pushing your body to its limits and sharing anecdotes during your break periods to provide some sort of solace for you. Because at the end of the day, Camp Half Blood was your home. At least, that’s how it was supposed to be presented.

During his share of anecdotes, practically each story starting on that fateful day when he was fourteen, Luke left out his true feelings about the area surrounding you both. He preferred to keep you blinded with things happy enough to make you laugh, with only enough hints of the truth to make you start asking the right questions.

His attentive training has hardened you around the edges. He’s made you a little rougher, or perhaps he’s chiseled away at the stone encasing your true nature, and the person he stood next to was who you really were.

A warrior.

An animal.

Teeth bared, sword raised over the kid lying helplessly at your feet, your chest heaving with effort and a dark look in your eyes. Darker than Luke has ever seen before. It’s victorious, with a hint of a challenge in there. As if you’re daring this kid to stand up, gather his sword, and attempt to best you once more.

Surely, with the way Luke has trained you, if the kid did make an attempt he would end up in the same position in no time.

The sight is exhilarating. It makes the blood rush to Luke’s ears and his fingertips start to buzz with the fuel he’d never been able to use. But he’s in control here. And he has an image to uphold.

He calls your name, firm and demanding. The tone of a leader.

He rests a hand on the shoulder pad of your armor, pushing you back from the kid with enough force to distance you two. He fills the space created, his back to the others and his eyes cutting down at you. It takes you a second to lift your eyes to him, and when you do, when you look up at Luke—at your leader—you’re seething.

Luke really tries to hold his smile in and he’s glad that right now, you’re the only one who can see him.

“At ease. You got ‘em.”

You watch him pointedly, nostrils flared, and Luke lifts an eyebrow with a controlled movement, questioning you, daring you to challenge him.

You take a step back and rid the tension in your shoulders as you adjust your helmet.

You don’t say anything, instead sheathing your sword into its scabbard and watching Luke once more, waiting for orders.

He has trained you well.

‎

The energy around the campfire is palpable. It washes over the bodies of the campers surrounding the bonfire, settling over their skin and providing a glow. Even some of the Ares kids appear to be beaming, although they were clearly sour about another loss.

You, like everyone else, seem to be in good spirits too. A pleasant smile on your face as you watch the scene around you.

The fire burns a mesmerizing gold and Luke finds you watching it reach up toward the sky, your curious eyes taking in as much of it as you could. Your head is already tilted up, so you don’t adjust your position at all whenever Luke steps into perspective.

He stares down at you for a moment, searching for that look in your eyes. The same one he saw during capture the flag a few weeks ago.

Ever since then, Luke has developed a new fixation, one multiplied whenever he got a hit just a few days ago during training.

He’d had you on your knees then. Your chest heaving with exhaustion as you were staring up at Luke with a look so threatening that he wondered what exactly you were capable of. You were definitely at your wits end by that point, but that wasn’t when he saw it. Deep within your eyes was sincerity, maybe a bit of worry, and Luke knew that if he drew his sword down to give you a critical hit, a final blow even, you would defend yourself.

But that’s all.

He hadn’t felt the need to prepare for an opposing attack. He knew you would defend yourself, but not go for the attack. You wouldn’t hurt him. And that wouldn’t do.

So Luke laughed. He threw his head back and let out an exaggerated guffaw as he exclaimed that you looked perfect on your knees. As he insinuated that that was where you belonged. Beneath him. Beneath anyone.

His teasing did the trick. And he has a healing scar on the outside of his forearm to prove it.

Now, standing above you at the campfire, a setting so casual that it was almost sickening, Luke didn’t see any resemblance of anything challenging in your gaze.

Instead, you appear back to usual, sitting alongside a few of the Athena kids yet not actively engaging in conversation, holding a burnt marshmallow on a stick with two hands, your elbows resting on your knees as you look up at Luke with that same pleasant smile.

“This seat taken?”

He’s already sitting down as he asks it and if someone were to return, he knows they wouldn’t have attempted to reclaim their spot.

You stare over at him with amusement written all over your face.

“What if I said it was?”

Luke shrugs. He reaches over, sliding your stick out of your hand and sticking the marshmallow back into the fire. He lets it ignite, turning it over to do the same to the other side, and after a second he removes the sweet treat, extinguishes the flames, and takes a bite out of it.

You’re watching him, waiting for a response, and when you realize that he’d already given his response, you turn back to watch the fire instead.

He lets you sit in silence, slowly chewing through the sticky food as he watches the side of your face.

You look pretty like this. The amber glow of the fire illuminates your face, casting visually stunning shadows across your skin, highlighting places Luke has noticed but never appreciated until now.

He has always known you’re pretty. He’s known it since you walked into camp, confused and stunned as demigods clustered around you.

Luke remembers looking around at his fellow campers, noticing how judgmental they seemed. Because, in all honesty, you weren’t like the other people that came to Camp Half Blood. Not terrified, young, and lost in the world.

Not only were you older, but you had a certain stance to you that told Luke you weren’t confused, just curious. Your head was lifted, your shoulders pressed back as you held up the thick straps of your stuffed book bag. You were faking to be unbothered, but as you eventually confirmed Luke’s prior assumptions, you were worried.

Worried about the sea of young faces you saw. Worried that coming to Camp Half Blood at your age was a mistake.

Until your eyes met Luke’s. His dark eyes were watching you, analyzing your form for potential. Trying to find areas that could be molded into a fighter, and aspects that didn’t have to be changed one bit.

According to you, seeing Luke made you feel comfortable. Seeing Luke made you feel like coming to camp wasn’t a mistake at all.

He is glad that you arrived as well. Because before you, Luke felt alone.

He was looked up to, admired, respected, but rarely seen as just a peer.

And even further, before you got here, he hadn’t seen himself being romantic with anyone.

But now, sitting here with the gold of the fire affecting his mood in the same way he affects it, he has the sudden urge to intertwine your fingers with his or throw his arm over your shoulder. Maybe pull you into his side and plant his lips on yours, effectively claiming you as his and letting you claim him as yours.

Instead, he knocks his shoulder against yours.

“What’s got you looking so sad over there? We won today. You should be celebrating.”

You laugh a little, but it’s not one of the big and genuine ones you give him when he cracks an impressive joke.

“Give me something stronger than s'mores and maybe I’ll celebrate.”

Luke faces back towards the fire as he tells you, “that can be arranged”.

He notices you watching him from the corner of his eye. He can’t tell if you’re smiling, and if you are, if it’s one of genuine interest or one of amusement derived from misunderstanding his tone for a joke.

Either way, you hum. “Don’t tease me like that.”

He tilts his head a little. “Bold of you to assume that I’m teasing.”

He stares at you and a moment of understanding passes by.

Then, “but only if you tell me why you look so sad.”

Luke knows he’s a brave person. Hell, he took on a dragon at just seventeen and lived with nothing but a scar as a reminder. (And the plaguing nightmares but what the others didn’t know won’t hurt them)

But he feels a different form of bravery find him as he reaches a hand out, plants his thumb at the corner of your lips, and tugs upwards.

“You know what they say about turning that smile…” He lets the end of his sentence taper off, raising his eyebrows as if he expects you to finish the overdone phrase for him. It doesn’t surprise him when you swat his hand away instead.

He thinks he sees you hiding a smile when you turn away from him for a second but when you return with another marshmallow, sticking it on the end of the stick in between Luke’s hands, your face is neutral.

He thrusts the white into the burning gold as you begin to speak.

“Do you remember the first capture the flag win? When I was on defense with you?”

One side of the marshmallow ignites and Luke turns it around so the other can do the same.

“When you were taking down the others? Of course I do.”

(Luke resists the urge to add a mention of how attractive you looked then. He doesn’t know how you would take the comment in general, much less when you seem to be going through some sort of moral battle)

“Yeah.” You take a moment.

Luke takes the marshmallow out and blows on it. He lets it cool.

“I didn’t feel like myself then,” you eventually admit.

“What d’you mean?”

You shrug. “I dunno. I felt … meaner. Like–”

“Like you wanted to hurt someone?”

When you nod, you’re staring down at the ground, refusing to look up at Luke.

He doesn’t know why he does it, but he lies.

“That’s normal for demigods.”

That gets your attention. You look over at Luke with hope in your eyes, the pair shining in the light as they flicker back and forth between Luke’s own gaze.

“Really?”

Not allowed to back down now, Luke nods.

“Yeah. That rage you have within you. The need to beat someone, to be better than someone. I feel it all the time.” And that, that right there, is the stone cold truth.

He’s never admitted it to anyone else before, but with you, things feel different. He figures that this feeling he has around you is what some religious people feel in their faith. Maybe what some of the other believers at camp feel in regards to their parents.

Luke pops the marshmallow into his mouth whole.

You look relieved as you speak. He hadn’t noticed the tension in your body until it’s gone.

“So I’m not messed up?” Your voice is small, weak, insecure, almost.

Luke almost feels bad about lying to you.

Almost.

“Not any more than the rest of us.”

What he doesn’t say is: not any more than me.

As soon as his marshmallow is swallowed, he asks you to meet him later that night.

‎

Luke feels like he’s been waiting ages for you.

He’s paced a path in the dirt, twirled the small dagger he kept on him until his fingers could no longer grip the handle comfortably, and he’s started to gnaw on his bottom lip in anticipation that at this point he worries that they aren’t kissable anymore. Because no matter how much he tries to lie to himself, he invited you out to the clearing that you train in with one intention in mind.

He digs into the pocket of his cargos, searching for a second before his fingers wrap around the small tube of chapstick he got from one of his sisters. Cherry flavored, artificially so, but it still smells pleasant enough. Whenever he’d received it from her it was fresh, the seal unbroken, but since then he has used at least a quarter of its contents.

The balm glides over the broken pieces of skin, smoothing them out as best as possible, and then Luke recaps the tube and stuffs it back into his pocket.

It’s no sooner that the lip balm has found a home again that he hears the thud of a shoe against the soft ground behind him.

He doesn’t turn around, not yet. He doesn’t want to seem too eager. Instead, he twirls his knife again, a little slower this time to prevent it from slipping and falling onto the ground embarrassingly.

“Didn’t think I should’ve brought a weapon.”

Just the sound of your voice makes Luke’s insides flutter. He feels stupid, silly even, to have such a crush like this. He feels juvenile.

A smile briefly blooms across his face before he snips it off, turning around to look at you as neutrally as he can manage.

“You should always keep a weapon on you. Don’t you remember rule number one?”

Luke watches you reach behind your back for only a second before you brandish the dagger he’d given you for him to see, a triumphant smile on your lips.

“I’m a good listener. Don’t you remember?”

Proud, Luke tucks his dagger back into its holster and you do the same.

He takes a step closer to you as he proposes his next question, a hand reaching up to flick off an imaginary lash from your cheek. He doesn’t know why, but as of today he’s found himself touching you more. Searching for any reason to justify feeling your skin against his.

“How good of a listener are you?”

Your head tilts a bit, eyes squinting, and he realizes that it’s an action he does often. The implications of you picking up things from him makes his chest bloom with something. Pride, maybe?

“Try me.”

You step back, giving Luke a full view of your body.

He lets his eyes scan your frame once. Taking in your messy hair, pinned up for the night. Your sweatshirt with some school on it. Luke, not knowing much about the outside world, doesn’t know if it’s college or high school, much less its location. But it’s well worn in, clearly loved by you. You’ve paired it with a loose pair of pants, and Luke has suspicions that if he were looking at you from behind, the flowy material would perfectly outline your ass.

He clears his throat and meets your eyes again.

“Okay…” he thinks for a second. “Simon says: touch your nose.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, but then you lift your right hand, single out your pointer finger, and press it against the tip of your nose.

“Simon says: touch your toes.”

Luke watches, seeing if he’ll catch you, but you keep one hand situated on your nose and use the other to reach down to press your hand against the beat up end of your sneakers.

“Hm, okay,” Luke nods as if he’s impressed. Like you would struggle at a kids game.

“Simon says you can stop.”

You stand back up straight.

“Simon says: spin around twice.”

You spin around twice.

Instantly, without giving you a second to rest, “spin around a third time.”

You jerk for a second, but stay still in the end. Luke points, smiling a bit as if saying I almost had you.

You don’t respond but your lips curl up into a little embarrassed smile.

Luke continues giving you orders for a few moments, letting you get comfortable with the preface of “Simon says” just before he gives the final blow.

“Kiss me.”

There’s no order from Simon before it. Just Luke. He gauges your reaction. And when he sees you stay put, he tries to move on.

“Simon says–”

But then you’re walking towards him, and you’re reaching up to rest your hands on his shoulders, and you’re pulling him down to reach you better, and then you press your lips to his. It’s light, a barely there touch, and then you’re pulling away, walking back to your spot, and standing straight, waiting for your next order.

“I didn’t say Simon says.”

Proudly, you tell him, “I know.”

There’s a moment where the only noise is that of nature. Of the harmony of the world existing around this possibly unharmonious moment. The brief balance could easily be thrown off by your reaction to the next bit. If Luke were being dramatic, he would claim that your reaction determines the fate of the world, and maybe even of his mission.

He takes a breath, and then takes the plunge.

“Simon says: kiss me again.”

This time, your kiss is firmer. You’re standing on your toes a bit, overcompensating for Luke who still stands tall with his shoulders back and his head up.

Eventually, he dips his head down at the same time that he finally gets to touch you.

It’s small, nothing but a hand on your hip, but the context of it changes everything for him. He’s touched you before, brief presses of his fingers against a part of your body to emphasize a point, or correct your posture, and then earlier when he reached out for the delicate skin on your face.

Those things were friendly, that of a mentorship even.

Nothing to this degree.

You tilt your head and deepen the kiss, opening your mouth wider as you start to take control. And Luke hands it to you.

He grips the loose fabric of your pants, takes the tiniest step forward, and presses himself against you. In return, you nudge closer to him, holding the sides of his head and keeping him steady to allow yourself to explore his mouth.

He’s a little lost, he’s never gotten to this base with anyone before. Besides the time he kissed one of the Aphrodite kids as part of truth or dare years ago. But that kiss was nothing compared to this, not even on the same scale.

In this field, he’s inexperienced.

For fear of making a complete fool of himself, he simply mirrors in the form of reciprocation.

When you press your tongue into his mouth, he does the same, meeting you not quite in the middle and simply doing what you do.

There’s a moment there where you leave Luke’s lips, and he’s preparing himself to be upset when you pull away, but then your lips pucker and you suck his upper lip for just a split second, and you return to kissing him like his knees didn’t just get a little weak.

Fortunately, the slight lapse presses his crotch against yours again, and you suck in a breath when Luke accidentally grinds his boner into you.

Sensing that it’s something good, and satisfied that he’s not the only one as aroused as he is, he does it again. This time intentionally.

He frees his grip on your pants to move his palms around, pressing into the top of your ass and the end of your back, pulling you closer to bump your crotches.

This time, you do peel away from his lips completely, but it’s to let out the prettiest sound Luke has ever heard.

Your eyebrows are pinched together a bit, your lips shining in the torch light and parted.

You’ve only been apart for a couple of seconds, but Luke is on you again.

He sacrifices the grip he has on your lower half to stretch his hand along the connection of the back of your skull and neck, fingers spreading as far as the tip of your spine to an inch into your scalp.

He lets go of the insecurities he has in his lack of experience and just kisses you. His immediate intention isn’t to take control from you. Rather, it’s just to have you as close to him as possible.

You respond eagerly. Arching into him, slinking your arms over his shoulders, pressing your hands into the muscles along his back. At one point, you lift your leg and nudge your knee against Luke’s side by way of getting even closer to him. The position change allows the first real touch of your centers together and your head falls back, exposing the pretty sight of your jugular to him.

There’s a moment there where Luke has the urge to wrap his hand around it. But he fears what your reaction would be so he flexes his hand, and lets the thought evaporate into the stiff night air.

Luke knows that he feels as he does because of the hormones swirling throughout his body, but he has the feeling that he can trust you. Really trust you. Enough to tell you everything he’s ever wanted to tell anybody.

“Do you trust me?” He says it to you, his hand pulling your head back towards his, your lips mere centimeters a part.

You nod, the tip of your nose nudging against his with each movement.

Luke kisses you once, then tells you, “the gods, they–”.

He doesn’t have a spiel planned, but his need to tell you everything has him covered. He knows that once he starts, he won’t be able to stop. Not until you understand your parents as he does.

You put an unexpected dent into Luke’s poorly conceived plan when you shake your head.

“Don’t wanna hear about the gods right now, Luke. Just wanna kiss you.”

And the way you say it, like it’s something you need rather than just want, makes Luke abide completely.

His free hand slips under your shirt, pressing his palm flat against your torso, and giving himself the first real press of skin on skin. He sighs, pulling away from your lips to knock his forehead against yours.

He slides his hand up until he finds where your bra would sit. But he doesn’t run into any more material. Instead, he reaches a hill, one he nudges his thumb against, reaching up until he finds the beginning of your areola. Then, as if he’s realizing that he’s going further than he should be, he pulls his head away and looks at you.

“Is this…?” The question makes him feel vulnerable. If he finishes it, he bares his wants out to you. And he knows that you have done the same for him already, but he doesn’t feel ready to invite the possibility of rejection.

So instead, he raises his eyebrows and waits for you to catch on.

You nod, biting down onto your lower lip. Your hands begin to search, too, leaving behind the sides of Luke’s face to tickle through the grown out hairs at the back of his head.

What follows is the most carnal display of want that Luke has ever been part of.

He starts by tweaking your nipples, applying light pressure and then smoothing it out when you moan. He watches your reactions to try and figure out what to do next, but luckily you end up pulling his hand away yourself, leading it to the elastic waistband of your pants. You look at him pleadingly, not needing to say what you want for Luke to take initiative.

Luckily, the favor is returned.

You unbutton his jeans, pull them down just enough, and reach a hand into the fabric, touching along the gingham pattern of his briefs.

There’s not much coordination to it at all, but it doesn’t seem to bother either of you. From how Luke sees it, you’re equal amounts of eager, pressing against each other in multiple areas as if you’re both attempting to fuse your bodies together.

In the excitement of it all, Luke accidentally bumps the heel of his palm against your center. He assumes that it would have hurt you, so he’s close to apologizing.

Until you moan.

That’s all it takes for Luke to push away the rest of his pride and insecurities. He takes a breath.

“Will you … can you show me what to do? How to make you feel good?”

Your reply is instant. “Two fingers.”

He singles out his pointer and middle finger.

“And then go...” You wrap your fingers around his wrist, pulling his touch up to find something that his fingers catch on, a bundle of nerves that apparently feels good for you. You nod, sighing out a small “right there”.

He feels a little dumb when he asks, “What do I do now?”

“Rub. Circles are best, but side to side works too.”

So that’s what he does.

He starts slow at first, the circles a little wide, but they feel good for you. You’re nodding, eyes fluttering shut a bit. You return your hand to Luke, pressing over his dick, and then sliding a little further down until you reach his balls.

He tries to hide his sound, but a hitch of his breath comes out anyway.

There’s a tree stump just behind you, a product of an accident Luke has yet to tell you about, but you direct him towards it, standing over him for a second when he falls back to sit on it. The two of you have sat on the stump a few times before, but never in this capacity.

Luke watches you climb over him, straddling his hips, and pushing your crotches together.

Then, you grind.

One of Luke’s hands finds your ass, the other reaches back to connect with what’s left of the tree, reclining his position just enough to provide more room. He lets you do the rest, spurring you on with little nods and small breaths.

It’s not like you can see him, not when your eyes are pinched shut.

Luke wants to join you. His eyes threaten to close and submerge him in a void that would enhance every single feeling. But closing his eyes means getting rid of this sight. And he never wants to forget what you look like right now.

There’s sweat beading along your hairline and running down the side of your face. Your face is one of relaxation, save for the tiniest crease of concentration between your eyebrows. Luke can tell that you’re warm, and not just by the perspiration. But clearly his training has been paying off because your body doesn’t show fatigue. Your muscles are still taunt, your movements are still languid. You don’t show any plans of stopping anytime soon.

And at first, that’s what Luke wants.

There’s a few moments where he’s lost in oblivion. Where he pictures the worst thing in the world happening, and it’s you getting off of him. The feeling is so delicious, your centers grinding together, bumping clumsily yet still working in both of your favors.

He doesn’t want it ever to end.

And then he cums.

Again, he tries to hide the sounds he makes. But a groan rips through his throat, jumping out of his mouth and falling directly onto the fabric of your shirt when he rests his forehead against your chest.

He uses you as an anchor, his big hands gripping any part of you that he can find. He grips your clothes as he attempts to tether himself to the here and now.

He’s huffing, spent even though he did none of the work. Eventually, he lifts his head to search for your lips, but then he winces when you keep going.

He’s speaking in fragments. He’s trying to communicate his sensitivity. But you only shake your head, speeding your hips up a bit more.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry. I’m almost there. Swear, Luke. I swear…” and it’s just then that Luke is presented with the prettiest image he’s ever seen.

When his lips are numb and there’s a wet patch pressing against his sensitive cock in his briefs, Luke remembers the alcohol he has stashed within a bush.

He presents it, feeling that same sense of pride spread through his chest whenever you seem delighted at the options, even though it’s just a box of hard seltzer one of his brothers snuck in at the beginning of the summer. When you ask him what it took to secure it, Luke brushes it off, not wanting to remember the poop scooping he’d doomed himself to.

But the sight of you grinning before bringing the first sip of a cracked open can to your lips makes it all worth it.

When you pull it away a bead of clear liquid snags on the corner of your lips. Luke’s eyes watch it glide down your chin, and before he can stop himself he reaches a hand out, once again feeling that bravery, and swipes his thumb at the liquid.

He brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks it clean, surprisingly pleased at the flavor.

You both make your way through multiple cans, and it’s only when there’s a slight slur to your words and a sway to your frame that you ask Luke about your parents. And not about the stories you’ve been told throughout school, or the glorious recounts about how they’ve helped their kids. But the truth. About how Luke feels.

And he turns to you, smiling gently, and begins to tell you, becoming more and more pleased as you begin to express the same outrage as him.

He doesn't have to question if you'll be a valuable ally. He doesn't have to feed you carefully worded lines to twist your mind into siding with him.

With you, it's natural. The same as it is with him.

‎

It’s exactly a week later. Another capture the flag day created a certain buzz that flowed throughout camp.

Earlier this morning, Luke was concerned about winning. That was before he found himself in a similar position as he did weeks ago.

Standing next to you in a clearing, no other campers around to witness something that will certainly be a sight to behold.

Just like before, you’re standing over a camper with your sword raised over his frightened frame. He’s pleading, but his words are useless. They fall to deaf ears.

“No maiming!” He exclaims. “It’s the rules, remember?” His words are spoken with a stutter, the tremor in his voice extremely obvious.

Briefly, Luke looks over to you only to find you already looking at him.

You’re waiting, body tense, ready to attack. All you need is the command.

“Do it.”

There’s a rip and a scream, and Luke’s eyes don’t leave your frame.

He watches the splatter of blood meet your cheek and for once, Luke doesn’t reach over to wipe it away. He leaves it there, leaving the evidence behind as he cups your face delicately, spreading his fingers to miss the crimson, and then using his hold to pull you close and press his lips to yours.

Easily, quickly, you submit to him.

You two haven’t shared things in the most intimate form, not yet at least, but he doesn’t need that with you. Looking in your eyes, seeing that same look that he sees in himself, Luke knows that having your legs spread around his hips with euphoria isn’t the most necessary thing in the world. He would love for it to happen, and he will revel in it when it does happen, but he knows that fucking you isn’t needed to guarantee your loyalty to him.

As you submit to him, smelling of musk derived from hard work, the evidence of your effort on your face, Luke knows that he’s already secured it.

He has your loyalty.

And he can’t shake the excitement he feels towards your potential. Because he knows that the fire blazing deep inside of you can’t be contained for much longer.

He just hopes your internal fire continues to work in his favor and never against it.

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #dark!luke #celeste writes pjo #luke castellan smut

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8siangemini · 10 months

Text

I’d Choose Her (Earth 42 Miles Morales x Spiderwoman!Reader)

Summary: After continuing both you and Miles’ duties as the Prowler and Spider-Woman and keeping everything balanced between you two Miles gets an employer that already has a trap set in stone to trap in the person who he has to kill. All he has to do is commit the murder. But his employer did not tell him who their victim is to prevent any biases the Prowler may have. He did not have any biases except when it came to his lady.

Word Count: 1.8K

WARNINGS: None :)

Author’s Note: I still have Earth 42 Miles brain rot in my brain so here is some more stuff to scratch at that lol

You were laying in Miles’ bed on your phone with Miles’ arms wrapped around your waist with his chest pressed against your back. He was lightly snoring into your neck but you tried your best not to laugh due to his breath tickling your neck. After taking multiple videos of him peacefully asleep you check the time and it is almost 9 at night.

You carefully turn around to face Miles and begin planting light kisses around his face. With each kiss his face contorts and changes until his eyes blink slowly open. His eyes stayed slender and slim as you stared at him until you planted a kiss onto his lips. You pull away a little bit until he comes up to you and kisses you again with a light smile.

“Hola mami.” He said in a lowly raspy voice which always made you weak at the knees.

“Hola mi amor.” You respond with a smile which he returns until he plops his head back onto the pillow, still keeping eye contact with you. “It’s almost 9.” You say.

He groans until he brings you in closer so his face is nuzzled into your chest which caused you to chuckle.

“Come on I have to do patrol and you have that thing with your new employer.” You say as you kiss the top of his braids.

He groans into your chest until he finally sits upright and turns his head back and forth to crack his neck. You stared at his bare toned back for awhile as you laid down and began rubbing his back with your palms and tracing his back muscles with your nails. He relaxed to your touch until you began getting up too.

You walked over to your overnight bag you brought and started taking off your hoodie and sweatpants to reveal your black and white Spider-Woman suit. Miles began getting up from the bed to stand behind you and place his hands on your waist to give you a kiss on the nape of your neck.

He began putting on his Prowler suit and you had to admit you found him really good looking in the suit. You could stare at him all day if you could. You snap out of your daydream as you begin putting on your all black Jordan 12’s.

“Is it a little weird how your employer dude said he already has a trap set in place for your victim yet he hasn’t told you how it works or who the victim is until the day of your kill?” You ask Miles as he puts on his back gear.

“I was thinkin’ the same thing ma.” Miles replied. “Like since I’m the one that actually doing the killing shouldn’t I know the plan?”

“Exactly.” You reply.

You begin heading towards the window and begin opening it up. You turn around and see that Miles is all ready to go. You two quickly kiss each other on the lips, smile, and put your guys’ mask on.

“Be safe, yo te amo.” (I love you) You say.

“I’ll try and make this thing quick but be back by 11:30 or else I’m gonna be looking for you.” Miles says through the distorted voice. “Yo te amo mas.”

You head towards the window, looking back and forth to make sure no one is around, and shoot your web to the building across the street. While mid air you scan the empty street and give Miles a quick thumbs up before you turn around and see Miles dropping down to the ground with no sound.

----

You are almost at the end of your patrol route which is a quick check of the alleys in the more sketchy area of Brooklyn. You always tried to make this last part of your patrols quick because you wanted to make it out alive from your nightly patrols.

You swing through the last alleyway on the area which you know by the back of your hand but then you did not realize until you were already in it that there was a clear netting in front of you. The momentum of your swinging and the collision of the netting had caused you to get tangled in the large net as you fell from about 20 feet.

“Fuck.” You say under your breath.

Your spidey senses begin to tingle and you quickly turn around and see someone coming closer towards you. You tried to tear through the net but the man had already threw you over your shoulder like you were toys in Santa’s bag. You kept on trying to squirm out of the grip of the man but he began walking over to a car parked around the corner and threw you into the trunk.

“You son of a-” You began to yell until the man held a piece of cloth over your nose and mouth and soon you fell asleep.

----

Your eyes blink open and you feel a blanket thrown over your whole body. You tried not to move as much because you could feel that there were people in the room watching your every move. Just one sign of disobidience and your life could be taken away, you knew you had to be careful with what you do.

“Here she is.” Two new people came into the room. The man spoke in a low raspy voice, slightly sounding like a creep.

The cool air finally hit your body when the blanket was pulled off of you. There were three body guards behind you but your eyes widened and heart dropped when you realized who was in front of your, the Prowler, Miles. You knew Miles’ eyes widened underneath the mask. You were Miles’ unknown victim. But you knew how strong the connection and loyalty you and Miles had so in the end you were confident that you would make it out of here alive, you were even cocky.

The three bodyguards left the room and closed the door behind them, leaving you, the Prowler, and the employer alone. The employer next to Miles rubbed his hands together and laughed softly.

“I’ve finally done it.” He congratulated himself. “I’m going to get my 900k.” He snickered. To be honest you had forgotten there was still a bounty on your head especially after Miles completely abandoned that mission once he found out your identity.

You slouched down in your seat and let out a loud and clear yawn through your mask. The employer guy looked at you in confusion and disgust. You did feel cocky in this situation but you were very confident in what Miles’ choice was.

“What are you yawning about?” The man’s ego was bruised. “You are about to be killed! There’s no way out of here!” The man came closer to you and placed his hand on the back of the chair and leaned it back a little so you were looking up at him.

“Aww was your ego bruised just by my yawning?” You teased which was pissing him off. “But nah I’m pretty sure I’ll make it out of here alive, I feel safe even!” You say in a preppy tone.

The man turned to look at the Prowler as he went around you to stand behind you. He gripped onto both of your shoulder tightly causing you to wince. Miles looked at the two of you with nothing to say.

“Go on!” The man yelled into your ear. “KILL HER!” He roughly gripped onto your face to point towards Miles.

That was the last straw for him. He quickly dashed towards you two and gave a hard punch to the man next to your face, knocking him down to his ass. He held his face as he looked up at Miles in anger.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He yelled. “Kill her!”

“You touched her.” Miles distorted voice said as he slowly walked closer and closer to the man.

“What?” The man asked in anger. “If you let her live you won’t get that 400k I promised you.” The man said cockily, thinking Miles was going to choose money over you.

Miles grabs the man’s face by his clawed hand and held him up. His feet began to dangle as he held onto Miles’ hand trying to prevent him from choking.

“I’d choose her.” Miles said until he looked over at you. “Turn away mi amor.” He instructed. You turned your head away from the scene and heard a loud thud from behind you, the body dropping.

Miles came into your line of sight and his mask started to unveil his handsome face. He gently lifted your mask to reveal your mouth and nose and a smile came to your face. He bent down to you and began untying you from the ropes.

“Don’t turn around.” He reaffirmed.

No matter how violent your duty as Spider-Woman can get Miles always tried his best to keep anything violent from his job away from you. You loved how even though his job was violent he never would let you see the things he had seen. He did not want you to be scared and traumatized by something so gruesome, he wanted to protect you from anything and everything even if you had seen some stuff from your duty as Spider-Woman.

He offers his hand to you and you take it has he helps you up from your seat.

“I’d always choose you.” He said as he gave you a a deep kiss on the lips with his left hand on your waist.

Once you two drew away you pulled down your mask and his mask began to hide his face again. You two were about to exit the room until you remember there are still the bodyguards outside. You stop Miles by placing a hand on his chest and he stops all of his movements. You turn to him with a smile underneath your mask.

“Now let me do this part.” You say and he backs away with a hand extended towards the door, allowing you to go first.

You walk backwards away from the door and shoot two webs at the top of the door. You swing through, breaking the door, causing the three bodyguards to duck down quickly. You plant yourself on the top corner of the hallway and shoot webs at one of the guard’s shoulders and plant a hard kick to their face, knocking them out. You’re on the ground sitting on your heels back near the open door and you shoot one web at one of the bodyguards and another on the other.

You yank them together as the headbutt each other, knocking each other out. All three bodyguards knocked down in a pile as you turn around to face Miles again. You stick out your hand to him.

“Ready to go?” You ask him and he nods, taking your hand in his.

As Miles walks out of the room you walk on top of the pile of men while Miles guides you two out of the abandonded building. You two walk out of the building hand in hand. Ironic, Brooklyn’s most feared villain saving Brooklyn’s hero and walking out hand in hand.

#spiderman spoilers #spiderman #spider man #spider man across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #prowler miles

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dwampyverse-tournaments · 1 year

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Back in Gimmelshtump vs. Zubada

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luveline · 6 months

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I don’t really have a request I just love anything you write💗 maybe something with girly!reader?

thanks lovely💗

Spencer wrings his hands behind his back, shifting from one foot to the other unhappily. He hasn't felt this nervous since he was young —his PhDs have acted as a shield for years now. Even if he doesn't know what to do, he physically cannot be stupid.

He feels pretty stupid. Less when you look up, smile blinding and sticky with gloss. He's thought about how it would feel to kiss you before and he tries desperately to push the thought away now, his hands shaking where they're hidden.

"Hey, Spencer Reid," you say, lightly teasing as you wave him toward you. "How are you?"

"I'm good."

"Yeah?" You gesture at the empty seat in front of you. "Are you having lunch?"

The bureau cafeteria is less of a cafeteria in the kitchen sense and more of a staff room, though hot food is served at the very back. There are couches toward the patio of an outdoor area to the left. You sit at one of the tables near the doors. The air is cold around his ankles as he sits with you.

"No, I– I came down for coffee, but the jug is empty." It's a bad lie. Luckily you have no idea that there's a kitchen in the BAU offices. "You're not?"

You turn your laptop screen to him. "I ate my lunch at my desk. I'm just catching up with my show." Your laptop has stickers around the screen, silver shiny stars and tiny pink hearts that look like they're made of jelly. There's a closed bottle of nail polish resting near the keyboard. "And I'm gonna touch up my nails, too. They're always chipping."

"They look perfect to me," Spencer says.

You beam at him, beatific, so, so pretty, he could die. He might. "Thanks, honey. You'd look cute with painted nails, have you ever thought about it?"

Spencer honestly forgets about his nails. He should take better care of them. He thinks about hiding them under the desk. "I don't think I could do it."

"No one's good at it, at first. I'd paint them for you, if you wanted. I have a couple of things in my bag."

Spencer's relieved to present freshly trimmed nails to you for painting. Your polish is a light blue colour, milky, and he assumes it'll be the one you use on him, but you decide to ruin his life, taking his hand into one of yours. You hold his fingers in a way that presents the nail as you brush cuticle oil around the edges of his nails with a small pen brush. You chatter as you do in your way, all sweet and gentle in mirror of your touch.

He's proud of himself for keeping his cool. To have you touching him for so long, so kindly, to have your attention, it has him squirming with a mixture of pleasure and horror. He wants to be seen by you but he doesn't know if he likes what you're looking at.

"You have really lovely hands," you say, using the tip of one of your nails to scrape stray wet polish off of his skin, "do you play piano?"

"You can tell?" he asks.

"Pianist's fingers," you say. "That's a thing, isn't it?"

"I haven't played much since I was younger. I got distracted by other stuff."

"Maths," you surmise. "And criminology?"

Everything. He pushed away a want for human connection with books and education until it got too much. Even the wisest of honeybees will brave heavy rain for a beautiful flower, and that's sort of how he feels about you. He knows it's stupid, knows it's doomed, but he couldn't not try to speak to you. You're the prettiest girl he's ever seen, all your lip colours and shimmery eyeshadows, the chirpy way you talk, the earnestness of your please and thank yous.

Your hands. The silver ring on your index finger dotted with tiny pink stones. Your bracelets. The smell of your perfume and your soft sweaters.

"Done," you announce, an uncharacteristic hesitance to your tone. "Are they okay?"

You've done a perfect job. "They're so neat. Thank you. I– I love it."

Your eyes linger on his hands. "I love when guys wear nail polish. You're even handsomer now, it's crazy. I didn't know it was possible."

Spencer should have more style for sure, but he asks you to dinner right then and there.

You smile until the lashes kiss in the corners of your eyes and say yes. This new place opened just around the corner from your apartment, and you've been trying to drum up the courage to ask him all week. When Spencer hears that he almost passes out.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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bluesidez · 16 days

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GymRat!Miguel Part 4

content warning: mentions of sexual coercion (may be triggering to some so I marked the area where I talk about this subject with 🎧, the story will still make sense if you have to skip it), the word assault is used once in regards to Miguel’s situation at the party, fluff to make up for the last part, Miguel’s biological father is Tyler Stone here but he IS NOT comic book Miguel physically by ANY MEANS 😭, the progression might be a little fast?? I hope not though I want them to kith 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏽, a little suggestive at one part but nothing serious

word count: 2.4k (at this point y'all...you must know that I like telling stories because wtf), kinda proofread

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who set his alarm for 8 am the next morning. It rings long enough for his roommate to get up and shove him in his side.

“Shit. Sorry,” Miguel groans. His head is splitting and he feels like he’s been run over.

“Coming in at ass o’clock in the morning and letting your alarm ring past 12 rings? What happened to my roomie?” Peter muses, scratching is stomach. His own eyes are tired as he blinks at Miguel’s body slumped against the bed.

“A party that I should’ve never gone to,” Miguel says, bringing the ends of his palms to his eyes and breathing deep. “Nothing went how I wanted it to.”

“It looks to me that you got everything you wanted,” Peter yawned, going to grab a water from the mini fridge. He handed it to Miguel who thanked him and emptied the whole thing in one go.

“I left a girl that I really liked alone there,” Miguel replies, voice broken. “Was stuck in a room with a bunch of girls I didn’t even know. I was gone way too long and she left.”

“Shit, O’Hara,” Peter said, eyebrows raised. “Did they do anything to you?”

“No. After they realized I wasn’t trying to do anything, they just tried to bring the party upstairs. I didn’t get back downstairs until two hours later.”

“Did you reach out to your girl, at least?”

Miguel reached for his phone, “She texted me when she left and I texted back later.”

He looked at his phone, going to your messages. “And still no reply.”

“Can you blame her?” Peter asked, getting back in his own bed. “If I left my girlfriend anywhere while we’re out, she would literally have my head on a wall.”

Miguel wanted to cry. How could he fuck up something so badly?

He sighed as he brought his knees up, resting his arms on his knees. He put his head on his arms, trying to think.

“What should I do? I really like her,” he asks, voice watery.

“Not to be that guy, but there’s no time like the present,” Peter says. “Tell her the truth. Explain things to her. If you’re feeling that awful, do something for her.”

Miguel sniffles and groans out, deciding to get up.

“You’re right,” he says. “No time like the present.”

GymRat!Miguel who grabs a light breakfast and gets straight to work. He thanks the universe that his mom packed a bunch of aimless art supplies in one of his bins. He gets to crafting, putting his heart into everything. He’s freshening up, spraying on cologne, bringing out the slacks that make his ass look great, tightening his belt, fixing his hair. He tightens up so well that even Peter whistles when he walks out of the bathroom. He grabs his craft and goes off campus to a store, buying a few snacks, a circus animal cookie plush, and a gatorade in case you happened to be a little hungover too. He even goes the extra mile and finds a cute apology card. If anything, he hope you could get a laugh out if it.

GymRat!Miguel who makes his way to your dorm building, some guy letting him in after he saw him lingering around the door like a kicked puppy. He thanks him profusely and runs up the stairs to your door. He stands outside in the hallway for a minute and catches his breath, trying to still his beating heart. He gives a light knock, hoping you were there.

The door opens, revealing another girl who looks Miguel up and down with a scowl. Her hand is on her hip and her bonnet moves with her head as she stares Miguel down.

Miguel stutters, asking if you were there.

“Maybe, depending on what you’re about to say next,” she says.

“Look, can you tell her that I’m deeply sorry. I should have never left her alone last night. She didn’t deserve that. I apologize for even accepting the invitation to go. I should have known better. Nothing was worth me staying upstairs that long. Can I just- please, let me just talk to her,” Miguel pleads, desperate.

Your roommate just goes “hmph” under her breath and closes the door in his face.

Miguel’s arms drop and he gapes at the door like a fish. He’s willing to stand here until you have to come out, but isn’t sure what to do.

Just when he considers knocking again, the door swings open again and you’re standing there in a giant t-shirt and pajama pants with pokeman balls printed on them. A giant blanket is wrapped around your body.

You look at him, eyes cautious, “Jess said you were groveling. I’ll give you 5 minutes of my precious time. Something you clearly know how to waste.”

You sounded hurt and Miguel felt like dying.

He takes a deep breath calls out your name.

“I am so sorry for leaving you the other night. It was extremely fucked up, especially when I made sure that you could come. Anything could have happened to you and it was careless of me to not see that. I promise you my mom raised me better,” he says, looking down at your face.

You just crossed your arms and scrunched your mouth up. Even now, Miguel was still infatuated with you.

“I’m glad that you understand how fucked up that was. I was worried about you. I waited. For hours. I didn’t know anyone there and it was nerve wracking,” you say, words coming out like ice.

“I know and I apologize. Truly. Please just,” Miguel hands you his gifts. A gift bag full of the goodies he bought and an origami flower bouquet with a few lilies of the valley sprinkled throughout. A flower for renewal. A flower that he hopes speaks to you. “Please accept this and my honest apology.”

You look down at the flowers, taken aback. “Did you make these?” you ask, a little awed.

Miguel rubs one of his wrists, completely nervous, “Yes, I did. The lilies are real, though.”

“Well, obviously, Miguel,” you laugh softly at him. You start to go through the bag, heart warming at his initial gift.

“If you’ll accept my apology, I really would like to try taking you out. Again,” he says, shifting his weight to another leg.

“Wasn’t aware that last night was a date but slow down, tiger. I didn’t say I would forgive you yet.”

“Right!”

You took out the cookie plushie, cursing in your head about how cute it was. He really did know you. You kept going, heart melting the further in the bag you got. You finally got to the card, taking it out of the envelope.

You laugh at the cute seal, “You were an ‘ice hole.’”

Miguel heart sings at your laugh, happy that you were finding joy in this somehow.

You start to read the card, eyes wandering the page. His heart is hammering. Not only did he write his heart out, he dropped his confession of love like for you at the end. Whether or not you accepted it would make or break the rest of Miguel’s week.

Your eyes slowly drifted and you started to blink faster.

“Our time together has been short, but I think of you day and night. I dream about you. Your eyes, your smile, your laugh, your touch. It sounds sudden and cheesy but none of these parts of you escape my mind. I’m not sure what it felt like for you, but as soon as I was lucky enough to be graced with you in my lab group, I was stuck. To me, you lit up the room. I want to continue to explore that light, if you are willing to have me. May you please forgive me and consider going out with me?”

“If this feels like too much, I completely understand and I’ll-”

“Shut up,” you say, eyes teary. “Do you really mean this, Miguel?”

He stares at you, itching to reach out and hug you, “Every word.”

You wipe at your cheeks, a little overwhelmed. “Come here, you big goof.”

Miguel practically teleports the short distance, wrapping his arms around you. You sniffle in his chest, warmed up in his arms.

“I forgive you,” you say, words muffled into his shirt. “Just don’t ever do that shit again.”

He brings his hand to his head in a salute, “I won’t. Scout’s honor.”

“Of course you were a Boy Scout,” you say, giggling as you look up at him. He smelled really good and looked delectable. If you were weaker, you would have answered the door instead of Jess and filled the hallway with obscenities.

🎧

“Tell me though,” you say, trying to ground yourself. “What does one do when he leaves me for two hours?”

Miguel felt a groan in his chest, “Those girls were trying to do some weird harem thing. I was stuck in a room telling them no, trying to drink my way out of there. They kept trying to add more people to the mix, thinking I would go along with it. I didn’t want a case on my hands so it took me a while to get out of there without force.”

You went rigid in his arms, “Oh my god, Miguel!That’s assault.”

“Nothing crazy happened. I made sure that none of them got handsy.”

You bring your hand to his face, “That’s great, but there was still alcohol involved, which makes that coercion. Did you tell anyone about this?”

“Just my roommate, Peter. He sounded a little worried, but we were more focused on getting me to this point with you.”

You remove yourself from his arms and step back into your dorm.

“Stay right here. The council needs to discuss and Jess is on the Student Association,” you say, leaving a crack in the door.

GymRat!Miguel who is sat on the floor of your dorm room and explained the implications of what he went through. Jess ensures him that she’ll get somebody on the case despite Miguel saying that he was ok. You both ensure him that nothing will happen on his end and that this should stop those girls from doing this to anyone else in the future. Miguel is on board with that and you give him one more tight hug.

“Although you didn’t have to, I wish you would have told me. I would have came barging through those doors,” you say, a frown on your face.

“Really, it’s fine. I feel a little silly going along with the whole ordeal anyway.”

“None of that is your fault though, Miguel. You didn’t know what they were going to do or what they were trying to do,” you say, voice firm.

Miguel was enamored by your passion, “Thank you for saying that. If it helps, my father is Tyler Stone.”

Jess turns her body completely to you both on the floor, mouth dropping in shock, “Oh yeah, that entire organization is getting shut down.”

🎧

GymRat!Miguel who walks you out of your dorm, hand in hand with you. You two agreed on a nice coffee date. Something light after so much turmoil. You looked adorable, running around the room frantic and getting all dolled up just for him. He’s happy that he was able to work things out.

GymRat!Miguel who sits across from you, rubbing your hand with his thumb as you both sip your drinks. He begs for bites of your chocolate cake and you roll your eyes and feed it to him, a little shy at the PDA.

GymRat!Miguel who explains his family tree to you. You're still shocked at the Tyler Stone name drop. You're empathetic to his situation, agreeing with how tough it was to find out someone you knew for so long wasn't your actual father. He assures you that he's settled with the feelings for now, just happy to still have a connection with both of his dads and his mom. Plus, the money Tyler sends him was not anything to be sad over.

GymRat!Miguel who learns of your dating history. You've had a boyfriend and few meaningless dates. As you describe how he treated you, it makes sense that you were ready to completely block Miguel out of your life. Who stands up their prom date that they did a promposal for?

GymRat!Miguel who takes you shopping at the bookstore. Letting you get just about anything. Some romance books? Grab it. A plushie? Of course. A Beyoncé vinyl? No need to even ask. He was happy following you around the store as you squealed over certain things. Your eyes twinkled as you explained a series about a deaf girl falling in love and her boyfriend learning sign language to communicate with her. Miguel responds accordingly, humming at whatever you say.

GymRat!Miguel who feels crazy watching you eat a strawberry ring pop that he got from candy machine. You placed it on your left ring finger and he watched as your lips kept puckering around the crown of the candy diamond, taking it to the hilt and pushing it back out. Your tongue would come out occasionally as you slid the candy down it.

"Is it good?" he asks, mind in the gutter.

"Mm hm," you say, a smile on your face, ring pop popping from your mouth.

Lord help Miguel.

GymRat!Miguel who opens his car door for you. He also reaches across and buckles your seatbelt for you, body close to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who walks you to your dorm room, hand still in yours. You both linger there for a moment, taking in each other's space. You peer up at Miguel with those Bambi eyes again.

"I had a really great time with you Miguel," you say, holding your new bag to your chest. "I'm glad you came here this morning."

"I'm glad too," Miguel says looking at you, hearts in his eyes.

You bite your lip, rocking on your feet before you decide to do something.

You reach up on your tip toes and kiss Miguel on his cheek.

He stares at you, shocked. He stares at you a little longer, then begins to lean down. You get excited, hoping that he'll do what you were scared to do.

Jess swings the door open, "Aht aht! Come on inside, girl."

Miguel stands straight, face in flames.

"Good night, Miguel," you say, cheeks feeling hot.

"Good night," Miguel watches as Jess smirks at him before she closes the door.

GymRat!Miguel who floats all the way back to his dorm. Peter grins and tussles with him in excitement after taking in Miguel's appearance. He texts Gabriel while he gets ready for bed:

"When have I ever lost?"

"I kicked your ass in Mario Party last week but go off Ig"

"🖕🏽"

"🫰🏽"

Miguel went to sleep once more, having thoughts of you.

dividers by: @yeribbon 🩵

a/n: I’m almost certain that this is the LAST time something this serious happens in this series. It will be pretty fluffy for a while...I think 🫣

As always, thank you for reading! Leave a like and a reblog. Please comment! I love to hear what you guys have to say 🥺 🩵

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx @lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @ce3stvu @ohara-whore

#love lab drabbles 💊#GymRat!Miguel 💪🏾#miguel o'hara x chubby!reader #miguel o'hara x plussize!reader #miguel o'hara x chubby reader #miguel o'hara x plus size reader #plus size reader #chubby reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel o'hara au #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara

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