#something something white line between them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluesidez · 1 day

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Hi I saw your req open and I flew here ehe-

Hear me out please 😭

Miguel is a geneticist (someone who works around denetics) and sometimes he doesn't understand the programs that he 'made' and Lyla has to help him. That makes Peter B. and the spider-teens very suspicious of him.

What's even more suspicious is that once a month he leaves the Spider HQ to who-knows-where.

After some stalking investigating, they find out that every time that he leaves; he goes to a park to meet [Reader], that is the one who helped with all the tech he has at HQ.

When he returns the next day, he is confronted about it and explains that [Reader] is an old friend and he trusts them with the Multiverse secret. However Peter B. and the others obviously saw the mutual attraction between both of them so they help out Miguel confess to [Reader].

Fluff + a little suggestive with Gn Reader please ^^

Anyway drink lots of water and keep yourself healthy!! ❤❤

[Undercover Lover]

lab tester: @hikaru-sama 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: Miguel is willing to stop the world for you, you just want to be the small part of his world that makes it better.

content warning: fluff, longing from reader and Miguel, the spider-teens are all menaces (as in they all have chismosavirus), Peter is Peter, a little suggestive but nothing crazy, I also made Miguel’s relationship with the teens pretty adorable (Papa Miggy 🥺)

word count: 5.8k, halfway proofread (don't ask...)

a/n: This request is not outlandish in any way, btw. It's very cute! I hope you don’t mind that I added a little extra to the programming aspect. THANK YOU TO THE MIGGY SERVER FOR YOUR HELP AS ALWAYS! I have been wallowing in the chats for who knows how long. I thought it would be cute and funny. Also, I've been doing better with my water intake! I hope you're proud. 🥺

Miguel blew out a tired breath, eyes blurry after staring at the same set of files all day.

“Lyla, could you replay the scan from this morning?”

“I don’t know, can I?”

Miguel frowned as his eyes panned to the flickering yellow glow, “Are we doing this right now?”

“Doing what?” Lyla posed with her head tilted in her hand.

“Lyla. Replay the scan from Earth 450-”

“Here’s what I found on scams on 4chan.”

“I said scans not scams- what are you talking about? And what is 4chan?”

Lyla switched to a pose that mimicked The Thinker, her heart-shaped glasses morphing into ones made of stone.

Miguel shifted his weight to one side, hands on his hips as he watched Lyla float around his desk.

“Pull up the LYrate Lifeform Approximation code.”

Lyla snickers, glasses shifting to match the marks of a clown’s face, “You don’t know how to work that, buddy.”

“I didn’t ask you to tell me that, I asked you to-”

Lyla opens the file before he can finish his spiel.

“Now, what?” Lyla whispers with glee. “Gonna hack into the motherboard? Break down the firewall?”

Miguel ignored her and read through the constant formulas, coding that he's never even seen before becoming longer and longer.

Lyla popped up right in his peripheral view, pulling out one of the smaller codes to highlight, “What’s this one mean?”

Miguel squints at the line, “Something about how you respond to tone?”

“It’s my hair color,” Lyla’s voice is high and giggly like she was anticipating his completely wrong answers. “What about this one?”

“I, I don’t know. Your jacket?”

“Voice modulator,” the code danced around him as Lyla switched her voice to something of an old Hollywood star. “You’re not very good at this, tuts.”

Miguel felt a strange chill as Lyla walked around with a long white dress instead of a jacket and her brown hair in curls falling down her back. She laughed at him some more as she pulled her now, thick-rimmed triangle-shaped sunglasses to the top of her head.

“Lyla-”

Miguel’s watch jolted, a notification blaring at him. He answered with haste, mind frantic.

“Miguel? Is something up with Lyla, because I asked her to find this Mysterio’s dimension, and she started playing some wrestler’s theme song instead,” Jess huffed, throwing the villain's body over the back of her motorcycle. “Now, he won’t stop singing it.”

Miguel felt his head start to pound, “Something’s going on with her. She’s not functioning at her normal state.”

“You’re never functioning at a normal state,” Lyla sighed dramatically, arm over her head with wind blowing around her. “Always so tense!”

“Oh my god?” Jess’s eyes went wide as she took in the Lyla at Miguel’s side. “Why does she sound like that?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m shutting her down until I can fix it. Just send the Mysterio back here.”

“You can’t turn me off, Miggy! Don’t you want me to sing for you?”

“Yeah, hurry up and log her off. She’s freaking me out.” Jess ended the call with a disgusted face.

With her gone, the room was filled with Miguel’s thoughts and Lyla humming and brushing her hair in a vintage mirror, something she would have never cared to do on a regular day.

Looking at the lines of coding in front of him, there was no way he was going to find what was happening.

He reached across his desk to a new screen, searching for a certain folder. Miguel laughed to himself as he read the title.

Don’t open unless it’s ABSOLUTELY crucial to your health…and well-being. .3.

Miguel would consider this a crisis.

He tapped the folder, watching as a sprout of several different colors surrounded him. He shifted it through the lights, some of them being pictures of you and him, some of them being animated GIFs of cats, and others being helpful guides to small technological problems. He kept searching until he found a yellow tab that read “LYLA? LIGHTS OUT!”

With one click, Lyla went from twirling and singing in heels to being dormant, gone to the Spider Society. Letting out the breath he was holding, he shifted the files back into the folder and geared up to make the announcement.

“Attention Spiders,” Miguel held his watch up to his mouth. “Lyla will be down for maintenance for a couple of hours.”

He could hear the collective groan from the society all the way in his office.

“And I will try my best to get her up and running for future missions. Until then, please send any anomalies directly to Margo and stick to local crimes as well as protecting your respective neighborhoods.”

As soon as he ended the announcement, Margo was flooding his watch with back-to-back memes. Miguel remained confused watching a little girl in a cowboy hat complain to her grandpa while he dismissed her.

“I can send someone else down there to help you.”

“no because if anyone breaks my tech, it’s coming out of YOUR 🫵🏾 paycheck”

“Everything comes out of my paycheck.”

“whatever dad”

“?”

Perturbed, but not wanting to waste any more time, Miguel locked his office and called your number.

Two rings and you were picking up the phone.

“Hey, Spider-ider!”

“Hi,” Miguel refused to admit how the nickname sounded cute coming from you. “I need your help with something.”

“No ‘How are you?’ or ‘Sorry I haven’t checked on you in forever.’ Just straight to business, huh?”

“Sorry,” Miguel collected himself. “How are things? Did you manage to get the job with that tech company?”

“Why, thank you for asking, Miguel! I’m pretty good. Things are different! I did end up getting that job, but the manager is eerily creepy, so I’m trying my best to pile up the meanest HR case or try to wiggle my way into a new department. So far, the former is slowly but surely working, not sure if my sanity can take much more. How are you?”

Miguel's eyebrows shifted a bit, “You know you can just call for my help if anything goes wrong, right?”

“Miguel, you’re protecting so many people. More than I can even fathom, actually. I’m not going to ask you to stop to check on me.”

You should. He’d drop everything.

“It wouldn’t take much from my end, I could just-”

“Miguel.”

He bit his cheek, knowing you wanted to move the conversation along.

“How are you?” you asked again, tone back to normal.

“I’m neutral. Same thing as always. Now, it’s just that Lyla was really unbearable today.”

“Unbearable how?”

Miguel went into every detail, pulling in some last-minute reports from other Spiders that managed to use her before he shut her down.

“So you’re telling me she glitched out, wore an alligator head, and integrated ‘Flat Fuck Friday’ into every conversation?”

“Well, that was just one of the many cases. Is that, is that all you heard?”

“No, I got it,” you fixed your face to try and hold back your laugh. “It sounds like she hit her funny bone.”

Miguel looked up at the ceiling and back at you, “This is serious.”

“And I’m being as serious as I can be!”

“She’s causing all of this trouble because of a funny bone.”

You laugh at Miguel’s deadpan tone, “Ok, so technically it’s called a laughing virus. It’s been hitting a lot of major search engines for some reason, but Lyla is the closest to human-like AI there is, so it’s a funny bone!”

“As stupid as that is, I need your help to come fix it.”

“Aw, you need me to come check your work?”

Miguel avoided your gaze, “There is no work. I couldn’t tell one line from the next.”

“But Miguel, you were doing so good last time. What happened?”

“I-I don’t know, I thought I had one right but I mixed up tones with shades.”

“That’s still on the same playing field, so you got something right! That’s good progress, Miguel.”

“Mm.”

“I’ll be there soon. Don’t do anything crazy, although you’ll probably just loom over the desk dramatically.”

Miguel opened his mouth to rebuttal but you already ended the call with a laugh.

With truly nothing but his thoughts, he hurried to clean his space. There were a few loose wires and an empty box from the cafeteria scattered around.

By the time you were tapping the code into his office door, his platform was back on the ground and he’d just swept up some dust that managed to build in the corner of the room.

“Don’t clean up now just because I’m here,” you watched as his shoulders jumped a bit at your voice.

“I’m not,” Miguel huffs and sets the broom against the wall.

“Sure.”

Miguel comes closer to you with his hands on his hips.

You were probably the main reason that Lyla was the way she was, sarcastic and immature.

The only difference was Miguel could mute Lyla or switch modes for some peace. For you? It was non-stop. The only way he knew how to get you to stop was a method that’s been crowding his dreams ever since he met you.

He saw your lips moving at a mile per minute, but nothing was really reaching his ears.

They looked so soft, so perfect. He wondered if he should just let the society function on its own for just a few more hours.

“Miguel!” You waved your hands in front of him. “Lyla being down has really stressed you out, huh? You’re unfocused.”

He cleared his throat, “I still have a lot of work to do.”

“Well, let’s get to it!”

Miguel moved so you could walk to his desk, heart racing.

Whatever it was you were about to try to teach him wasn’t going to stick. He just knew it.

“Hey, Miguel! You know, I was wondering if we could implement some type of spider-baby daycare? MJ is pretty busy these days,” Peter strided into Miguel’s office with a wiggly Mayday strapped to his chest.

The platform was down, but the serious figure was nowhere to be found.

“Miguel?”

Peter tried to feel him out, but there’s no way anyone could miss Miguel in plain sight.

“Hm,” Peter put two fingers out for Mayday grab. She squealed glee, taking one finger to chew on. “If I were a Miguel, where would I be?”

He pondered through the halls, eventually finding himself at the entrance of the cafeteria. Mayday looked up almost as if she was disappointed.

“I need fuel to think!”

Peter ran down the line grabbing his usual: a 2099 burger, a large fry, and a medium cola, he’s dieting!

At the end of the line, a familiar voice called his name.

“Hey, kiddo! How’s it going?” Peter made his way to the table occupied by the younger spider crew.

Miles squinted at him, “Not a kid, but it’s going good! Have you seen Miguel? He was supposed to be training me an hour ago, but he’s not answering his watch.”

“Funny that you say that,” Peter stuffed his mouth with a handful of fries. “Went to his office and he wasn’t there.”

“What is with him and disappearing lately? It’s not like him,” Gwen mumbled. “I was supposed to report to him not too long ago and he wasn’t here.”

“Time is an enigma,” Hobie was tuning his guitar. “Glad he’s finally taking advantage of it instead of chatting about doomsday.”

“True, but he missed part of the big party we planned three months ago, too,” Pavitr supplied.

The table stopped and stared at Pav with various deadpan looks.

“What? He promised he’d try my special dish! He never breaks our promises.”

“He did pile a load of work on me when Lyla broke. Usually, he would come down and help me, but he said he was busy fixing her,” Margo turned to Peter.

The table sat and pondered for just a second then the teens started spouting out nonsense.

“He’s retiring!”

“He’s going to give HQ up.”

“He’s not going to another universe again, right?”

“He’s finally taking breaks.”

“He’s dying!”

Again, the table stopped to look at Pavitr.

“False alarm?”

“Look,” Peter held his hands up. “I don’t think it’s any of that.”

“What makes you so sure?” Gwen sounded nervous.

“Uh, he would tell me!”

Miles snickered at that which caused Mayday to fall into a fit of laughter.

“What? He’s told me things before. We’re buddies!”

“And where is your so-called buddy right now?” Margo folded her arms.

“Touche,” Peter took a giant slurp of his drink, cupping a hand under it to make sure nothing dripped on Mayday’s head. “But don’t you have a way to find him?”

“The Grumpy GPS? Yeah, but I’ve never used it because he’s always here,” Margo sighs.

“How about the next time he disappears, you let us know?” Gwen suggested.

“Love it,” Hobie fist bumps Gwen.

Miles scratched his neck, “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Says the guy that snuck into the Spider Society,” Pavitr shook his head.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Gwen raised her eyebrow. “Margo is on Miguel-duty. We’re going to get to the bottom of this, right guys?”

Everyone nodded their head in determination.

Peter smiled. He’s still got this mentor thing down!

Margo was down near the Go-Home-Machine running Style Savvy through an emulator.

“That is so ugly,” she sang as she watched another contestant’s outfit go down the runway.

Her judging was interrupted by a dancing cartoon spider with bushy eyebrows.

She paused the game and stretched her arms to the other side of the room to give everyone a call, “Mission ‘Where is the Old Man?’ is up and running. The Grumpy GPS has been added to you guys’ gizmos. I’ve got everything ready to hack.”

“It sounds like we’re doing a lot more than tracking,” Hobie mumbled.

“But what if he actually is dying?” Gwen was lacing up her ballet shoes tight. “He would tell us, right?”

“Oh, but when I said that, it sounded crazy,” Pavitr pulled his mask down. “The double standards are appalling.”

“He could be just avoiding us. Can’t say it hasn’t happened before,” Miles’ voice was low and testy.

“He wasn’t avoiding you, Miles, he was just…projecting,” Gwen said matter-of-factly.

“Are we back on this? Sending the entire society after me is projecting. Missing our training sessions that he set up multiple times? That’s just foul.”

Gwen and Miles went back and forth, fussing over little things.

“They’re bickering again. How cute,” Pavitr stage-whispered.

“1 mission on Miles winning?” Hobie asked.

Pavitr thought for a second, “Deal.”

“You’ll probably be the most upset if he really is sick,” Gwen comments.

“Says who? I’m not worried,” Miles zipped up his jacket halfway.

“Then why are you bouncing around like that, Miles.”

Hobie sighed while Pavitr cheered.

“If you guys are done, Miguel’s moving on foot heading down 5th. I pinned a checkpoint,” Margo sent the coordinates to their watches.

“Time to go see if big man’s a killer,” Hobie yawned. “Or not.”

Peter felt the ground shake under him, hair rising on the back of his neck. His senses were screaming at him to turn around.

The thing is, if he turned around, he'd lose track on Miguel who was currently inside of the very building he was standing on top of.

The shaking grew, pebbles and vent plates rattling around him, then everything fell back into place.

One, two, thre, four pairs of feet hit the ground.

“Where’s Margo?” Peter asked, eyes not leaving the ground under him.

“In our ears singing,” Gwen groaned. “Where’s Mayday?”

“Enjoying a lovely Mommy-Daughter date with MJ and her girlfriends. Glad to have you all join me.”

“How’d you know he was going to be here?” Hobie crossed his arms.

“Like I said, buddies!”

“You waited outside of his office, didn’t you?” Pavitr pointed his finger at Peter.

Peter turned around with an offended face, “Details-schmetails!”

“Well, do you have any idea what he’s up to now?” Gwen put a hand on her hip.

“Well, we’re on the roof of an apartment, super expensive might I add, and I’m assuming his apartment is here. So maybe he’s just getting a nap in.”

“He’s on the move,” Margo’s voice buzzed through all of the teens' ears and they ran to the edge of the building, practically pushing Peter to the side.

“He’s wearing normal clothes for once,” Gwen’s voice was shocked.

“His trousers are quite nice,” Hobie nodded as if he was looking at a magazine.

“It’s so…weird,” Miles shuddered. “I’ve never seen him in anything else but his suit.”

“He wore a nice button-down to my Zoom celebration once,” Margo hummed.

“Guys?” Pavitr’s voice went high. “Where’s Peter?”

The three of them turned around to see a missing pink-robed Spider.

“Oh, come on!” Miles jumped from the roof to the next one, following the pink fluff. Miguel was walking fast on the sidewalk and Peter was keeping his trail from up high.

“Really, Peter?” Gwen swung alongside the two with the rest right on their tails. “Some mentor you are.”

“I’m a great teacher! You’re all catching on quite well,” Peter swung lower as Miguel crossed the street.

Colors flew across the sky, contrasting with the constant grays and small specs of green of Nueva York. Scaling from building to building was a lot easier with flying cars added to the mix, but it was a little odd to see wobbling vehicles every now and then.

“I think you guys should slow it down. His pace changed,” Margo noted. “He’s stopping at…a park? Didn’t know they still had those here.”

With a sturdy pull, Miles used his web to stop Peeter from running any further and the now quintet landed on the ground a safe distance from the park.

“A little dreary for a park, innit?” One eye on Hobie’s mask went higher than the other.

From where they were hiding, steel statues stood tall, tufts of greenery growing up the structure. There was more pavement than grass and the walkways contained several dips and turns.

“I think there’s some flare to it,” Miles countered. “Could use a lot more color.”

They quieted down as they watched Miguel find an empty bench. He sat down and started to rub his hands against his pants. He sat for a minute or so before he checked his watch and his leg started to bounce.

“Is he waiting on someone?” Gwen whispered.

“Oh, I wonder who it could be?” Pav whispered back.

“Why are you guys whispering?” Margo paused her side mission of trying to find any security cameras in the area.

“Doesn’t he have super-hearing?” Miles asked.

“Over this much noise?” Hobie brought the talking level back to normal. “If he doesn’t suspect us of following him, there’s no need for him to focus on us.”

After about five minutes of watching and making a game out of how many times can Miguel check his clothes, with Peter mumbling about how the pants aren’t going to get any looser with those thighs, everyone holds their breath as they watch someone take a seat next to him.

Miguel’s entire demeanor changed.

His face lit up, his back straightened, and the tension from his body fell.

“No way,” Pavitr whispered excitedly. “Guys!”

“What’s going on? I still can’t get into the security cams,” Margo’s voice was impatient.

“Miguel…has a partner?” Gwen tilted her head watching the two react. The mystery person got up to hug Miguel as he sat on the bench. He hesitated a bit, fingers twitching awkwardly before he hugged them back. “Or not.”

“If one of you could get closer, I could pitch the sound to everyone. And, I could see!”

Everyone turned to Miles.

“Why is everybody looking at me?”

“You can turn invisible, genius,” Gwen said.

He just sighed and faded from head to toe.

“How’s it going Spidey?” you lean back from your hug to look down at him. Your hands rub his shoulders. “You look nice today.”

Miguel averted his eyes, “You’re not supposed to call me that-”

“Outside of HQ or our phone calls. I know, I know. Seriously though, why are you so dressed up today? Got a hot date waiting?”

Miguel tilted his head, “Do I really look nice?”

The shirt he was wearing was barely hiding anything, any tighter and it would have been considered a muscle tee. It was tucked into some slacks with a belt that made his tiny waist even smaller. The pants hugged his thighs just enough.

“Yeah!” More than he could imagine.

“Thanks,” he smiled a bit. “There’s no hot date. Just wearing something casual.”

Your shoulders lifted at the words.

“Cool, cool.”

“You look nice, as well.”

“Really?” you looked down at your last-minute outfit. Some gray joggers you found at a thrift store and a hoodie you’re almost certain has a random bleach stain somewhere on the back. “You’re digging the midnight chic?”

“Midnight chic?”

“Yeah, an outfit you wear when going out for a snack in the middle of the night.”

Miguel pursed his lips, “It looks soft. Comfortable.”

You involuntarily gripped your bag tighter, watching Miguel’s eyes roam you from the neck down.

Lately, he’s been saying things that make your stomach flutter, from being willing to beat up your boss to fussing at you for running errands so late to remembering small details from months ago.

Only recently has his eyes began to wander. He doesn’t catch on as fast when you explain things to him. You’ve caught him staring at you while you’re looking at other things. His smile lingered a little longer. His hands were a lot more careful. Sometimes, he’d tense up when you touched him.

It was all so confusing and the feelings you’ve pushed down for years have crawled their way back up, waiting at the back of your tongue to be announced.

Still, you were just here to help him for as long as he needed you. Nothing more, nothing less.

You cleared your throat, “Okay so, you said you needed help with…Excel?”

“Mm hm,” Miguel nodded and locked his eyes back on your face.

You pulled your laptop, turning up the brightness so that the scenery wouldn’t shoot straight through the transparent device.

“So, this program is like, extremely old.”

“I know, but it's a middle ground for all of the Spiders. Anything newer would be too much for about a fourth of them and anything older would take ages for anyone to complete.”

“Got it,” you inch close enough to Miguel for his cologne to dance around you. He leaned closer to squint at your laptop and you had to will your hands to not shake like jelly. “So, the program is actually pretty simple. You just enter formulas, charts, numbers, or information in these boxes. There’s a lot more manual work than we’re used to, but it won’t take much to get used to.”

You walked Miguel through everything you’ve taught yourself over the past few days. Having him put in formulas and waiting for the result.

“Like this?”

“Almost! You’re missing a letter here.”

“Can you go over it again?”

Miguel's hands would hover over the keyboard, eyes focused and nose scrunched. Sometimes you would fight the screaming in your head and place your hands over his, helping him punch certain numbers in.

“Miguel, I think you’re messing with me. We’ve repeated this same thing on four other sheets now. I know you’re smarter than that.”

He poked his tongue in his cheek, “I’m just quadruple checking. Gotta teach this to some older people.”

“Fine,” you snort. “One more time and then I have to get ready to go.”

“Already?” Miguel turned to you. “I thought you didn’t have to be somewhere until this evening.”

“I don’t, but I can’t go looking like this. You spent 30 minutes arguing with me about the interface. Don’t you have to go back to HQ soon?”

“No.”

There was a noise behind you. You turn around to see nothing but a curved wall embedded with vines.

You put your heart to your chest, “God, I thought that was a reporter or something. Just the wind I suppose.”

Miguel’s eyes stayed planted on the empty space, “On second thought, let me walk you there. Don’t want any surprises.”

“So you don’t need me to go over this for the fifth time?”

“Nope,” Miguel grinned down at you. “I got it the first time, actually.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh as you hit his arm. He doesn’t even flinch. “You’re such a jerk.”

He looked around and got behind you to squat down, tapping on his gizmo. You could only hide so much of him. “Would a jerk swing you to your apartment?”

You look up at him equipped with his mask.

“He probably would, actually.”

“Aw,” Miguel said, red marks for eyes holding so much sadness. “Oh well.”

You yell as he yanks you up by the waist and shoots his web up to the nearest flying car.

“Miles! You almost screwed us over!” Margo did her best to wipe their trace.

“I panicked!” Miles tried to explain himself as he ran on the windows of a skyscraper.

“For what?” Gwen flipped as she connected from one structure to the next. “It was so clear that he meant that he wanted to be with whoever that was, not because he wants to quit HQ.”

“Seeing him like that feels like we met a new man,” Hobie said. His boots were light in the air. “Don’t like it.”

“You say that like he doesn’t let you get away with everything,” Pavitr said.

“Like what?”

“Like giving away food to the street cleaners.”

“Or like pasting your band stickers everywhere.”

“Or painting an ACAB mural.”

“To be fair, Miguel aligns with every single one of those things,” Hobie shrugged.

“This is great and all, but talk about a major fail,” Peter sighed. “He clearly needs a wingman.”

“I thought he did pretty good!” Miles said.

The rest of the group made a range of judging noises.

“His game definitely needs some work and he’s already on his way back to HQ, so hurry it up, guys. We need to hustle and huddle.”

Miguel was at his dock again, preparing to go check out the anomalies of the week.

He was back doing the thing that distracted him most: thinking about you.

Yesterday only confirmed what he’s been thinking about ever since you opened your mouth.

He’s absolutely infatuated with you.

At first, he thought it was a fluke, a blip in his timeline. No matter how many times your jokes made him chuckle or your smile brought him warmth, he wasn’t going to lean into it.

But then, you called him one night and your voice brought him back from the darkness that was consuming him. Stories of your life, an exchange of nostalgia, a whisper of hope for the future, and the confirmation that he was more than the error in time that he thought he was.

You’re something that he more than adored.

And yet, he still hasn’t figured out how to tell you.

He wanted more than the monthly meetups to refresh his memory on the stupid tech that kept this building running.

Truthfully, he could call Gabriel, or worst case scenario, Xina for help, but every time he got a chance it was your name that crossed his mind.

Miguel sighed as he started to shut some tabs down.

“Spiders incoming,” Lyla popped up to inform him.

Miguel saw the gaggle of teens plus Peter walking to his office.

“Here we go,” he grumbled.

“Turn that frown upside-down! Company is always good,” Lyla said.

Before Peter can open his mouth Miguel is beating him to it.

“What do you want?”

“Ouch!” Peter laughed. “Not up for a bit of family bonding time?”

“Not with you.”

“Oh c’mon, Miguel,” Peter inches forward as Miguel’s platform comes down. “Hear us out.”

“Make it quick.”

The teens all stared at Peter who looked back and forth between them.

“Do any of you not know what the word ‘quick’ means?” Miguel asked with irritation lining his voice.

“Well,” Miles started.

“You see, we were thinking that you might need some help,” Gwen finishes.

Miguel crossed his arms, “Help with what.”

“Your sad flirting,” Hobie says.

“What?”

“You know,” Peter puts his arm around Miguel’s shoulders. “You need a wingman!”

Miguel’s frown grew deeper, “What are you talking about? Did you guys spy on me?”

Six voices overloaded Miguel’s eardrums, all explaining their part of some convoluted scheme.

“Alright, alight! Quiet!” Miguel holds his hands out. “Margo!”

Miguel pinned his eyes to her with his eyebrows pinched.

She danced from foot to foot, face scrunched, “We just! We were worried about you so we followed you and saw you making googly eyes at someone!” The words spilled out of her like water.

Everyone but Hobie looked at Margo incredulously.

“What?” she whined. “He was giving me his disappointed look. The disappointment was torturing me!”

Miguel turned and paced, pinching his nose as he whispered to himself.

“Miguel, they could help you!” Lyla said cheerfully. “You’ve only been crushing on them for what…multiple years?”

“Lyla!”

“Multiple years? No wonder you’re always so tense. That’s pretty sad, bro,” Pavitr hummed.

Miguel pointed his finger, “Don’t bro me.”

“Still seeking authority in his moment of weakness. Something’s got to give,” Hobie went to lean on a wall.

“We really thought something terrible was going on,” Miles’ shoulders drop. “You also go M.I.A. whenever you have a problem.”

“We just wanted to help,” Gwen supplied.

“Hey man, don’t blame the kids for this one, alright?” Peter’s voice lowered so only the two of them could hear it, albeit a bit useless in a room full of power-holding teens. “Say the word and we’ll stay out of it, but the kids deserve to know why you were canceling on them at least.”

Miguel looked at Peter with an exasperated face before looking at the teens, three of which looked like they were about to cry.

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and let out a deep breath, “I’m not sick.”

“But lovesick?” Margo asked.

He gave her a tired look, “Yes.”

“Well why not say that instead of just disappearing?”

“They’re the one who helped make the tech for this society. Without them, there would be no updated gizmos, no updated Lyla, no new ideas. Every time I left it was to…get insight on something here. To fix broken tech.”

“And to stare in their face,” Pavitr snickered.

Miguel panned his eyes to the floor, too embarrassed to admit it.

“What’s the hold up in telling them how you feel?” Peter asked. “There’s no time like the present.”

“Don’t tell me yesterday was an example of what happens when you try to confess?” Gwen’s face twisted up, teeth clenched in second-hand embarrassment.

Miguel’s silence was enough of an answer.

“Tío,” Miles closed his eyes then looked back up dramatically with his hands out. “¡Vamo’! Sácale, llévale al cine.”

Lyla put a spotlight on Miles and held a microphone out to him while Miguel groaned.

“Cómprale, un ramo de flores!”

“Ya no puédo mas,” Miguel swiped through the holographic mic. “Eso no va a funcionar.”

Miles slumped, “But how do you know? You haven’t even tried! Bañate, junto con el-”

“Don’t finish that song, Miles,” Miguel’s fingers went to his temples.

“You should really listen to the lyrics-”

“Why don’t we help you win them over?” Margo stood in between the two, ending the squabble. “It’s clear that they seem to like you too.”

Miguel's eyes went softer staring at Margo’s pleading face, “How do you know?”

“We quite literally saw it,” Hobie spoke as if Miguel lost his mind. “No one ever talks to you that sweet.”

The teens all nodded their head in unison and Peter did a horrible job at hiding his laugh.

Hobie wasn’t done, “Don’t let someone like that slip through your fingers.”

Miguel was at the park again, dressed up even more than last time. An open navy button-down was tucked into his pants, his slacks were dark gray, and he had on one of the more expensive pairs of dress shoes he owned. A chain he borrowed from Gabriel adorned his neck and he let his hair natural and loose for once.

Under Miles’ advice, he did buy some flowers. Hobie told him to remain calm, Gwen told him to just talk, Pavitr gave him a bullet point list of what and what not to do, and Margo told him that he was the best no matter how the confession turned out.

Peter went on and on about the importance of love and relationships but Miguel was never inclined to listen to him. He did keep the comment about letting you know how much he means to you to heart, though.

He was so in his own thoughts when you showed up in front of him that he didn’t even notice you at first.

He jumped when you tapped his shoulder.

“Woah, it’s just me. And you’re super dressed up today. What’s the occasion? I’m not taking ‘casual’ for an answer this time.”

Miguel swallowed dryly, grip on the bouquet of cool-toned flowers almost enough to wilt the stems.

“Flowers?” your eyes went to his hand.

“Yeah, um.”

Just breathe, Miguel!

Margo’s perky reminders sounded off in Miguel’s head.

“I brought them for you,” Miguel placed them in your hands.

“Oh!” your face lit up. “These are beautiful. Thank you so much. I didn’t get you anything, though. I didn’t know we were bringing gifts today.”

“No need. I wanted to get them because,” Miguel felt his throat closing in. “I really, really like you.”

The smile on your face dropped as you stared at him.

“It’s been particularly hard over the past years to try to focus without you running through my thoughts and I don’t want the fear of myself or my circumstance to stop me from having a chance to be with you.”

Maybe his ears could pick up how fast your heart was going, too.

“So if you’re willing, will you please go out with me?”

You dropped the flowers and brought him in for a tight hug.

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

Miguel was quick to wrap his arms around you today, burying his face in your neck, “No hesitation?”

“I’ve been wanting and honestly, waiting for one of us to make a move for years. You’re always so busy, so I was too nervous to even bother,” you look back at Miguel’s face, smiling from ear to ear.

“Sorry to keep you waiting then.”

You looked from his lips to his eyes, “Can we skip a few steps?”

“Such as?”

You pushed forward, melting into him as you slotted his lips against yours, head full of warmth and clouds. Miguel matched your pace, hand on your back as he pressed against you. When he opened your lips you pulled back, breath dancing against his.

“Swing me to my apartment?”

Miguel smirked, “Always.”

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

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ahqkas · 1 day

Note

Theodore with a partner that’s has sensitive skin. Like if a strong perfume had hit their skin immediately they need to wash whatever essence it is or else they break out and start to itch. Maybe Theodore always has a handkerchief in case something like this happens.

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

THEODORE NOTT HAD ALWAYS BEEN ATTENTIVE, ESPECIALLY WHEN IT CAME TO YOU. from the moment he learned about your sensitive skin, he made it a priority to ensure your comfort and well-being. he carried a handkerchief with him at all times, a simple white square of cloth, always neatly folded in his pocket and ready for use.

one breezy afternoon, you and theodore strolled through the bustling corridors of hogwarts. the faint scent of blooming plants from the greenhouse wafted through the air, mingling with the various perfumes and colognes worn by students. you had grown accustomed to avoiding certain areas, knowing that a stray whiff of the wrong scent could send your skin into a fit of irritation. but despite your precautions, the unpredictable nature of shared spaces meant that accidents could still happen.

as you passed a group of giggling girls from ravenclaw, their strongly smelling perfume hit you like a wall of bricks. you felt it immediately — the prickling sensation spreading across your skin, the creeping itch that threatened to turn into a full-blown rash. your hand instinctively went to your neck, rubbing at the spot where the scent seemed to cling.

theo, the perfect boyfriend he was, noticed your discomfort right away. he had a keen eye for your subtle reactions, having memorized every inch of your body and its language. without a word, he gently took your hand and led you to a quieter corner of the hallway, away from the thick of the crowd.

"hang on," his eyes said, though he spoke no words aloud. he reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out the handkerchief, its fabric soft and familiar. theo always made sure to wash it with unscented soap, knowing how even the mildest fragrance could trigger a reaction.

you watched as he moistened the cloth with a quick, precise spell that conjured a small stream of water. he dabbed it carefully against your neck, the coolness of the water providing instant relief. his touch was gentle, his movements deliberate and soothing. you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as the irritation began to fade.

theodore's expression was one of concentration, his brows furrowed slightly, creating those pretty lines between them as he tended to you. he took great care in making sure that every trace of the irritating perfume was wiped away, his concern for you evident in every gesture he made. the usual confidence he carried softened into a tender protectiveness, one that made your heart swell with affection towards the slytherin boy.

"there, that should help," even his touch seemed to soften as he finished, tucking the damp handkerchief back into his pocket.

you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. "thank you, theo," you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude. his small acts of kindness always left you feeling cherished and understood.

"always," he responded, a small with reassuring smile dancing on his face as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, his hand tangling into your hair on the back of your head to keep you as close to him as possible.

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superhoeva · 4 hours

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𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 – 𝐣. 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 (𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝟏𝟖+) | shaking in my boots to post this but we're gonna be brave today and do it anyway. i've been thinking about this man for around a month and i had to do something about it! didn't know it'd be a fic i wrote at 4am but here we are. warnings for this one include smut, language, oral (f receiving), bodily fluids (mentioned), insomnia, penetrative sex (p in v), and dirty talk. if i missed anything, let me know! super big special thanks to @heavenbarnes for just being them and introducing cod into my life. cosmo i love u! happy reading everyone <3 (w/c: 1.4k)

Before you met John, sleep didn’t like you enough to come when called upon.

Your nights were spent staring unhappily at the ceiling as you begged for sleep to take you away, yet it does no such thing. You’d tried counting sheep, only to curse the technique’s failing after you’d nearly made it near 400 and were still wide awake. Melatonin tablets in the early evening. Tea time before bed. White noise machines blaring through the hours of the night. Leaving your phone in an entirely different room. You’d tried it all, to no luck.

Soon enough, your solution presents itself in a wide man with thick fingers and a sweet, sweet mouth.

Most nights, he has you back-arched and pussy seeping onto the sheets. Fingering, eating, then fucking you into a daze that allows for adequate slumber.

Fuck that he grumbles at you one evening after you pout to him about why you couldn’t make it through the day without a nap. He even evil-eyes your stupid white noise machine before pulling you to sit atop his hard thighs. Don’t need that shit, love. ‘Ve got somethin’ better.

He nearly melts at your tilted head and taught brow line that send him your silent what? You have to blink a few times before you realize you’ve been flipped onto your back.

Night after night, he’s relentless. Wagging and flicking and hauling the flat of his tongue right against your swollen pearl, your strength no match for his as your body tries to squirm away.

John has none of it, as he knows if you really want him to stop you’ll utter the safe word. Ears open and thick arms linking around your thighs, he digs his face impossibly deeper.

It’s as much for him as it is for you, clear as day thanks to the broken grumbles of how he would happily spend the rest of his goddamn life buried in this gorgeous cunt and the throaty growls that vibrate all the way down to his leaking tip. He eats away at you, nose and beard growing far past damp with your mess.

“Gonna come again,” you warn him pitifully, eyes rolling as he feels you start to pulse against him.

It’s your second of the night and just as mind-numbing as the first. John wrings his arms around you as you flail, eyes rolling at the taste of you oozing out onto his tongue.

“Fuckin’ incredible,” John sighs, nipping at the inside of your thigh before kissing his way up to your lips. He hauls you into a dizzying snog, dick twitching heavy as he lines it against your hole.

The kiss is a long one, mouths meshing with a few clashes of teeth. His tongue swirls, hips nudging the head of his pulsating cock into your puffy clit making you jump.

John coos at you through the end of the kiss, and you whine when he pulls away.

“None of that now,” he thumbs you lightly on the chin. His body towers over yours when he tows himself into a kneel, stifling a loud something when you snug a hand around his cock. Heaving breaths compel his chest into steep rises and falls as you slick your grasp back and forth, the wanton expression decorating your face enough to make him tilt his gaze.

“Gonna cum if you keep givin’ me those eyes,” the captain mumbles, the little grin he catches when he peeks down blooming something else within him. You squeal as he flips your body with little effort and sinks himself inside you with a bewitching languidity.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” John pushes out, hand planting just in-between your shoulder blades as he hunches, inhales catching in his throat when he’s finally slid completely inside. Railing into you wetly, he feels you already losing yourself in the measured, deliberate drives.

It’s just what you need. Something–someone, rather–to empty all the thoughts swarming around your brain. Someone to hold and fuck you towards a blissful oblivion. Sleep comes easier these days, your fucked out body sprawled against his as you snore quietly into his skin. No sheep, tea, or damn machines are any match for Price.

John drives himself sharp and deep, punctuating the good fucking girl that tumbles from him and hits against your ear. He smushes himself atop your frame, flaming skin heating yours, and hips grinding him until he’s balls deep inside of you once again. He stills for a moment, groaning with enjoyment at how you’re soaking walls press around him while you whimper out sweet nothings.

“Always feel so good wrapped ‘round me,” he mumbles sluggishly, breath fanning across you. “Squeezin’ me so good like the fuckin’ beauty you are.”

John starts again with slower thrusts, leaving your hole nearly empty before plunging himself back inside in a way that has you crying a lengthy wail. He himself can’t stop the stiff groan that leaves him at the act, grip maneuvering to pull you upwards.

His hips begin to snap into the cheeks of your ass as he clutches you tight, using the rest of his strength to keep you from falling as he fucks you deeper.

Your moan tumbles out as a sobbed string of curses, hand reaching backward for something, anything to hold onto while he pounds into you. Somehow you find the back of his neck that’s warm and humid with sweat, gripping the part of him with a squeeze.

Breaths punch out from deep in his chest, and you can only suck in half lungfuls of air, the bed rocking wildly under the two of you.

“My sweet girl. Poor thing’s gotta get fucked to sleep, huh? Can’t close those pretty eyes without me fillin’ you up first, hm?”

The words hit somewhere far inside you, mixing expertly with the wet sounds of your center drenching his dick in your slick.

“Right fuckin’ there,” John grunts, eyes shutting tight when he feels the angle of his hips flick just right, his throbbing tip gliding against the ridges inside of you. “Right there–fuck, squeeze when you get close, yeah?”

John has to chuckle when you do just that; squeeze your palm against his neck and dick as he gives your ass a light tap in response.

“That’s a girl,” he grins before snaking an arm around your front to settle a hand against your jaw to tilt your head to his. You mindlessly reach for a kiss, John obliging the request by pressing a wet peck into your lips. “That’s my girl, bloody perfect.”

He’s nearly there and so are you, eyes unable to stay open any further as the driving of his thrusts sound out in noisy smashes, cock gleaming with a pretty shine of a mixture of your sticky fluids.

“‘M coming,” is all you mewl out as a bright white blinds you. John watches you as best he can with a parted mouth, huffs of disbelief puffing out as you come around him. You shake and quiver against him, a fat tear or two sliding down your cheek while paralyzing ripples of pleasure heat you into a silent scream.

John keeps his clasp of you tight, encasing you as he works you through it. The way you clench and leak around him yanks the man into his own orgasm, his movement growing sloppy but intense as he comes.

His thrusts don’t pause when he spills messily inside your clamping walls, using you to milk every last drop of his seed out as he groans thickly.

You’re barely hanging on, all of your weight in the possession of John. He’s the only thing keeping you from melting onto the bed in the form of a puddle of cum and sweat, the last of your climaxes pulling a few flinches here and there.

A buzzy warmth has replaced the blinding heat as you sink into John, his wide chest splaying out nicely across your back, a hand rubbing soothing circles into the dewy skin of your stomach.

“My good girl,” the voice in your ear rasps out. You barely catch the words, lost in a pleased, exhausted fog that’s lulling you closer and closer to sleep. “Just what you needed, right? A good fuck to put ya t’a sleep…”

You don’t respond, further away now. You’re brought back a little when John shifts, his hand raising to cup your cheek. He glides his thumb, wiping away the remnants of your cries, leaving light kisses on your forehead, nose, and mouth.

“Gonna pull out so I can get your water. Wan’ you to drink the whole thing before you sleep.”

He waits until a sleepy nod bobs your head, tugging himself out of you slowly.

“Fuck me,” John whispers at the sight, his thick load dribbling out of you and into the bed.

He’ll get it in the morning.

#cod smut #call of duty #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x female reader #john price x female reader #captain john price #john price #cod fanfic #cod x reader

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cera-writes · 20 hours

Note

I saw you were taking Kurt requests :) Here’s one if you like it - Kurt and Reader get stranded somewhere while on a mission (perhaps a desolate winter world so they have to huddle for warmth) and they have no choice but to wait for the other X-Men to rescue them. In the meantime, some steamy confessions of love happen!!

A/N: thanks for the cute request anon! <3 Pairing: Kurt Wagner x gn!Reader Tags: fluff. forced proximity, comfort/hurt, confessions

Stranded Warmth

The blizzard howled outside, a monstrous white beast clawing at their flimsy shelter. Inside the downed X-Jet, the temperature plummeted faster than a falling Sentinel. Huddled together for warmth, Kurt Wagner, better known as Nightcrawler, and you, (y/n), shivered uncontrollably.

"Shit, shit, shit..." your teeth clamored as your body shook, panic settling in as the threat of frostbite and freezing to death settled in the back of your mind.

Kurt, however, remained calm despite his shivering.

"Don't worry, (y/n)," Kurt mumbled, his scent a familiar comfort in the howling chaos. "Storm'll sense the disturbance, she'll find us along with the rest of the X-Men."

You forced a smile, the gesture feeling brittle in the biting cold. "I know, but it could take days." You rubbed at your arms trying to foster some sort of heat in your aching frozen bones.

The shelter you two had built was just enough to keep you both from freezing for the time being, but the little fire that stoked was trying desperately to remain lit against the howling winds.

You were both stranded in this metal coffin, with only your makeshift fire, the dim glow of the emergency beacon and the rhythmic thump of each other's hearts for company. Silence stretched, broken only by the wind's mournful cry.

Suddenly, Kurt shifted closer, huddling next to you as he draped a blanket over both your shoulders, his blue fur brushing your cheek. "This reminds me of a time I was stranded on..." he started, then stopped.

You looked up, catching a glimpse of something unfamiliar in his golden hued eyes. Hesitation? Vulnerability? "What is it, Kurt?"

He took a deep breath and exhaled, hazy mists clouding the atmosphere surrounding you.. "This… being alone with you like this, it's… different."

His voice trailed off, and your own heart hammered in your chest. The unspoken feelings you'd harbored for Kurt, the telepathic whispers you'd desperately tried to suppress, surged to the forefront.

"Different how?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"Warmer," he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Not just physically, but… here." He tapped his chest, right over his heart.

A warmth, independent of the harsh environment, bloomed within you. "Me too, Kurt," you confessed, your voice trembling. "It's always been… different… with you."

The air crackled with unspoken emotions. In that moment of shared vulnerability, the lines between just another teammate and something more blurred. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"I never thought I'd find someone who wouldn't be scared," he murmured, a touch of sadness tinging his voice.

"I'm not scared," you said, cupping his furry cheek. "Not of you."

His eyes, usually brimming with mischievous amusement, held a depth you'd never seen before. Then, in a swift, surprising move, he closed the distance between you. The kiss was unlike any you'd ever experienced. It was desperate, fueled by the isolation and the sudden realization of something precious, something you could lose in the blink of an eye.

You felt something wrap around your body, pulling you closer into his embrace as it cradled your shivering form. Kurt's tail had send a jolt of pleasant shivers through you instead of the barren cold. He finally pulled away, breathless, to look into your eyes.

"Meine kleine Schneeflocke," he whispered, his voice a low rumble that made you swoon at his words. The unfamiliar term sent a warmth through you, a delicious combination of tenderness and the harsh beauty of your surroundings.

His words became a whispered symphony, each phrase a promise of warmth against the biting cold. "Du bist so tapfer," he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. "Lass mich dich warmhalten."

And he did. His body became a furnace against yours, his warmth seeping through your frozen clothes, chasing away the cold. His kisses, fueled by a newfound urgency, were a brand that seared away the chill. In the flickering light, you saw a vulnerability in him he rarely showed, a yearning that mirrored your own.

The cramped confines of the destroyed X-Jet felt like a world of its own, a world where fear was replaced by a fierce desire. The wait for rescue no longer seemed daunting. In fact, a selfish part of you hoped it might take a little longer. Trapped here, in the cold and isolation, with Kurt by your side, you had found a warmth more intense than anything the outside world could offer.

#xmen #x men 97 #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner one shot #kurt wagner x reader #cera writes #kurt wagner x you

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hq-folder · 1 day

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꒰‧₊ 🍃 down bad ⋆ ꒱ ⋆˚

you're so madly, deeply in love with yamaguchi tadashi.

that's funny, because he's usually invisible to everyone's eyes but all of a sudden, he became everyone's apple of the eye.

the monster pinch server whose hair grew a tad bit longer from when you first met him during your first year—or before your first year at karasuno, when you finally completed your school transfer requirements, and he bumped into you, hastily swiping his sweat from the heat of running through the blossoming spring that japan is.

"gosh! i am deeply sorry!"

oh, how your eyes sparkled when you saw the liter of freckles on his reddened cheeks; probably from the warmth he's feeling, or his embarrassment. he... he's so gorgeous.

"yamaguchi, hurry up." a monotoned voice spoke up, a bit ahead from the both of you. and before you could reply to the green haired male, he was gone in a flash—not before giving you a short wave and a sheepish smile.

now, you stand at the entrance of the karasuno gym. watching a practice match between your school's volleyball club and a neighbouring school you couldn't remember because all your focus was on the boy who proudly wore his number 1 vest as he is called for another service ace.

clutching your clasped hands atop your chest, your eyes glittered watching him. yamaguchi tadashi, in all his glory—you loved seeing him most when he's in his element, volleyball was his air; one thing you couldn't erase from him, nor could you separate from him.

you hear everyone's cheer for him, and you know he's embracing them fully with how he smiled so confidently before hitting his famous jump float serve.

"tadashi-senpai is so cool! and he look so handsome~"

god forbids you jump on those giggling girls a few earshots away from you. you noticed him first! how about they stop thirsting over him and focus on the game?

your inner monologue was interrupted by your conscious thoughts. he'd think you're weird if you keep barricading him like a guard or something.

the karasuno gym, which you grew accustomed with having a few people around was now crowded of students from different years—all wanting to see the volleyball players in action before their actual match on the nationals in 3 days.

yamaguchi tadashi whose growth you witnessed from being a fragile and petrified kid to a self-assured and courageous captain, bring his own team to the nationals once more was something you've always felt so proud for. he grew so much from being a shadow to being the spotlight itself.

after the final set, with an 8-point difference and karasuno obviously winning, you squeezed your way to the front lines where the members of the club gathered after finishing remarks and greetings—your eye catches a certain green haired boy, swiping his sweat and calming down his beating heart, that is going too fast for his liking.

the front lines was still a bit cramped but you did manage to push through, just enough to see tadashi.

said male finally stopped his self ministration before looking up,

"baby!"

with a beeming smile, two long arms scooped your hips from the student mass in a blink of an eye.

"hi, 'dashi." your own smile designed your face, a blush evident from the unexpected call out from your sweet lover.

"i thought you wouldn't be able to watch me." he laughed a little, hugging your uniform clad body close to him.

he was sweaty, yet you didn't mind—as long as he was near to you like this, you wouldn't trade it for any other thing, not even your favorite food.

"of course i'd make it, lovely. sorry i couldn't make it anywhere adjacent your line of vision, this place was already full!" you explained to him, a quick peck on his bright cheeks; but he honestly couldn't care about that,

yamaguchi tadashi is so madly, deeply in love with you too.

in your white long sleeves, paired with a beige vest and a ribbon on top, wearing your school's grey skirt—your hair down and simply tucked behind your ears, the way your eyes sparkled the same way he saw them during your unforeseen interaction, the moles on your face, and most importantly, your pretty, pink lips that he grew to love.

you're the most beautiful to him, right at this very moment—and many more moments that will come.

but right now, you looked incredible. your make up is done so lightly, it's barely noticeable but it's there. he wanted to kiss you, so, so bad.

and he did.

looking down at you innocently rambling, one of his hands made it up your upper back before expertly tilting his head to connect your lips in a breathtaking kiss. your hands froze on both his biceps, not knowing where this sudden burst of boldness came from.

breaking apart the sealed kiss, he whispered, "kiss me back, baby." so softly, and quietly that if you didn't pay such close attention, you'd not hear it. once he continued to connect your lips together, you felt more relax and calm, kissing his tender lips back and clutching his white tee for support.

he's invading all your senses to the point that you can't think; your brain is fogged like hell, but tadashi wasn't letting up with the starved kisses he was giving.

"oi, oi! that's enough, lovebirds" shoyo shouted from somewhere,

but everyone be damned, tadashi is too down bad; just for you.

(ˆ. ̫ . ⸝⸝⸝ˆ) ໒꒱ 𖦹 ps. it's me, i'm down bad for him. LOL but i do hope you enjoyed this unexpected first draft i wrote ><

#haikyuu #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #haikyuu yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi x reader #tadashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu yamaguchi tadashi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi fluff #yamaguchi fluff #tadashi fluff

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windcarvedlyre · 1 day

Text

Venti Week day 1: Old Friends

For this! Really overdue, apologies. I'm not completely happy with it but I could always polish it for something else later, haha.

A conversation between Venti and Vennessa after the webtoon prologue.

It was the evening after... that. Everything that had happened still hadn't fully sunk in for her. Her imprisonment. Facing the dragon again. Someone she thought was a mildly obnoxious bard, the ancient god of Mondstadt, descending on her people and healing their wounds and laughing in the faces of her captors. Her people's silence as they trudged back to their homes in the aftermath, words beyond them.

Wind gently rustled the grass around Vennessa's feet. She stood near the edge of a cliff overlooking Mondstadt.

The exchange after he asked them to make good on their word had been short but heavy with meaning. Venti had left, but not after implying- a hint of sharpness under his playful tone like a knife tucked under a carpet- that the nobles would change the way they do things or he would be back.

She hadn't expected him to be back this soon. He stood ahead of her, back turned and quietly watching the city. Should she be surprised? Her brain still wasn't working properly.

Venti turned his head to glance at her, the green of his hat and cape dulled in the setting sun's glow. Attire that had been shed for something white and radiant and revealing hours earlier.

She continued to stand there. Staring.

He inhaled.

"So."

She blinked. "So."

He glanced away, perhaps fidgeting slightly; it was hard to see much at this angle.

"I should start by thanking you again." he said, head turning back. "You caused quite the scene back there! It gave me the perfect opening to step in."

"Opening?" she replied. "Did you need one?"

"Technically no, but I prefer to help Mondstadt in a way that involves its people," he said, "and I'm reluctant to replace one tyrant with another."

"Right. Because you're... the god of freedom."

He winced at that. "...Yes."

Both of them stood in silence for a moment. Vennessa tried to pull herself together.

"I should thank you for helping my people as well. If you had come seconds later... I don't want to think about what would have happened there."

"Your role shouldn't be underestimated either! The fire burning in your soul is unparalleled. I suspect your prayers are what finally shook me awake."

...Awake?

"You were asleep?"

"Indeed," he replied, before turning back to stare at the city, "though I'd thought I would wake up somewhat sooner than this."

He paused.

"It's really been this way for centuries, hasn't it?"

"It has."

Venti didn't speak further. The breeze tousled their clothes, cold against Vennessa's bare skin.

Vennessa paused, wondering if she was about to cross a line.

"Venti."

Venti turned back to face her.

"Yes?"

"Are you... okay?"

He smiled.

"Of course! My energy reserves are regrettably somewhat depleted, but my public reappearance will accelerate my recovery significantly. I'll be right as rain within a-"

"I meant emotionally."

He froze mid-sentence. If not for her experience reading people she would have missed his eyes widen almost imperceptibly- just for a second.

"Venti?"

"It's fine." A pause. "I'll fix things."

"That wasn't a yes."

He laughed. It sounded a little strained.

"You shouldn't worry about me. You said it yourself; I'm a god, remember? I exist to serve Mondstadt's people. And I haven't been doing that. It's their feelings that matter here."

That last part was oddly familiar. It brought her back to countless sleepless nights before matches, stroking her sister's hair as she rested, crushing down her fear and telling herself she just had to hang on a little longer. She could feel once they were free.

Clearly Venti hadn't let things become this way on purpose. From what little she'd heard about him in legends...

"...You left to give them freedom, right? I guess that included the choice to-"

"Have they been free?" Venti snapped. The breeze suddenly intensified. "Free to express themselves? To self-govern? To live?"

Vennessa didn't know what to say to that. He was right, but...

Suddenly a dam broke, words pouring out of him.

"Do you know what a thousand people praying in desperation sounds like, Vennessa? Because I do. They've been flooding in since my little stunt earlier. But Mondstadt was so quiet before. How many generations did that take? How many people begged and begged for my help, still believing someone listened and cared?"

Wind whipped wildly around them. Sparks of teal in his eyes and hair grew in number and intensity the more he spoke.

"Venti-"

"And that includes you! And your people! You've suffered for generations and I did nothing! Why aren't you angry?"

Vennessa paused at that.

Should she be angry?

Her head was still swimming with everything that had happened. Emotions had swirled around her psyche like dust, the air too turbulent for them to settle into anything coherent.

Maybe she should be furious- should call him spineless and a coward and demand justice for everyone that came before her. But that somehow felt wrong. Like there was more to this.

Something in his face reminded her of Lind outside the city's gates. Trapped. Terrified.

"Did you actually choose to leave? Or was there some god business that-"

Venti laughed almost hysterically.

"Oh, that's it. Are you making excuses for me because I'm Barbatos? Because I could smite you where you stand? It's okay, you can still leave! I'm not even your-"

Screw worrying about lines. While she still couldn't say she knew him, god or not, he clearly needed help.

Gathering her resolve, she marched through the cutting gale between them and threw her arms around his shoulders. He made a sound almost like a squawk.

"V-Vennessa?"

"You asked if we could be friends."

"But-"

"Friends help each other when they're struggling."

"But you don't have to be-"

"And I'm not doing this because you're Barbatos. I'm doing it because I want to and you helped me."

"Only after-"

"I don't care what fuckups you've made in the past. All I've seen is you trying to fix them in the present. And I could do that with you."

He was as stiff as a board. The winds around them thrashed, confused and warring against themselves. He tried to push against her chest, push her away, but she squeezed him harder.

"You don't owe me anything. You could die! Your people could too!"

"That's always been the case, Venti. You've given us the first glimmer of hope that things could change. And do you know the most important thing my elders taught me?"

"That the gods should be there for you?" he mumbled into her.

She pulled back a little to look him in the eyes. He was like a deer in torchlight.

"That we shouldn't do everything alone."

Something within him tore. His face crumpled as he pulled himself back into her, a quiet whine escaping his throat.

"I'm sorry." He was almost inaudible.

"I told you-"

"It's just-" he paused- "it's been so long since anyone said that to me."

She hugged him tighter, raising one hand to rest on his head.

"Maybe people should do that more."

"But they need me-" he said quietly, his voice cracking, "to be perfect for them. To not do this. I'm their last line of defense, I can't be weak, I-"

"But you're not perfect."

He went silent again.

"At this point I'm not sure anyone can be," she added. "But that's why we lean on each other. To cover each other's weaknesses."

"You're genuinely not leaving?" he choked out.

She laughed gently. "We both have people on the line if this mess isn't fixed, right? And didn't someone say they owed me some keys?"

His breath hitched. His hands tightened their grip on her clothes.

"It's okay, Venti. I'm not going anywhere. You can be a person around me."

As Venti, archon of Mondstadt, person with feelings, her friend, lost the last of his composure and sobbed into her chest, she knew that her life would never be the same again- that the world would never look the same to her again.

But if even the gods were fallible, so were the Lawrences.

Things could change for the better.

They just had to keep going.

#VentiWeek2024 #genshin impact #genshin #venti #genshin venti #vennessa #genshin vennessa #lyre writes #been a mess the last few days augh #but that aside! i love me some venti & vennessa we need way more of it #vennessa being sisterly to him... clenches fist.........

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