#but in the individual one i accidentally forgot one and had a screen of one of each + a duplicate of the small limbed one on the right

[bmpmp3]

guys (sculpted out of kneaded eraser screenprinted on fabric scraps) individual fabric patch edition + misprints

(repeating pattern version if you missed it)

[irondadfics]

hii i hope youre doing well <3

i'm looking for fics where peter and tony discover they are biologically related while they're together in the lab/tower/etc. (whether they do the paternity test on purpose or find out accidentally) . i read a few fics like this a long time ago but i don't remember enough to ask about them individually

here are some where Tony and Peter accidentally learn they are father and son.

That's the thing with anger... by Good_As_I_Am94

Tony heard something drop and shatter while he was still finishing up his work on Rhodey’s suit, “Kid?” It wasn’t like Peter to drop things. He had sticky super powers after all. Peter was just staring at the screen.

I'm Your Dad by DragonSoulWorld

Peter Parker is Tony Stark's son! After Tony run a routine DNA test on Peter, he discovers he is his son! Having missed the first 15 years of Peter's life, Tony is determined not to miss anymore. But Peter feels insecure, and fears Tony doesn't really want to be his dad. Tony & Peter navigating their new father-son relationship. ProtectiveTony! SensoryOverload!

Hold On, To Me As We Go by GLWilliams97

“Hey, Tony Stank” Rhodey starts speaking as soon as he opens the door, “what’s this I’ve been hearing abou-“. Rhodey freezes mid-step and mid-sentence when he see’s Tony… or more accurately when he sees a kid sitting next to his friend. …a kid that, when he and Tony look up at him entering the lab, looks freakishly like Tony did when he first met him back at MIT. It may have been 30 years, give or take, since he met his best friend, but he’d never forget the first time that he met the skinny little kid that had a busted lip because he had mouthed off to one of the much older students. He’d never forget that little face. The face that he was suddenly seeing all over again…sat next to his best friend.  --- Yes, this is one of those stories where Tony find's out Peter is actually his son. I'm a sucker for these kind of stories and I've wanted to write one for a while...so, here it is :)

Not Rocket-Science for Dummies — A Masterclass by Rhodey and MJ by AnonVale

“Peter—look behind you!” The boy clasps Peter’s head, forcefully turning it around. Peter’s looking. And— Well, Rhodey’s not looking at Peter. He’s looking at a living memory—lightning wit and calculating brown eyes. Rhodey’s lightheaded with it—with late nights hidden in lab cupboards as tired security guards search for the source of echoing laughter—with breaking into Tiberius Stone’s dorm room and stealing his pipsqueak best friend’s final paper back—with punching Howard Stark in the face, shaking his knuckles out without an ounce of regret—with bunny-eared yearbook photos and shared school hoodies—with ‘I got it! I got it—Rhodey—stop—It’s not even—even heavy’ and ‘It’s a two-hundred pound robot, of course it’s heavy, dummy’—and later—so much later—too late, alway too late—with searching, searching, searching and never finding—

Happy Hogan Never Forgets A Face by Jen27ny

Happy Hogan never forgets a face. And suddenly he remembered where he knew that face from. The blood in his veins turned cold and for a second his lungs forgot they need oxygen to function. He counted back the years, hoping it would calm his racing heart. Hoping it wouldn’t match. But it did.

[siphisket]

How To Fix Coloring you accidentally did with Night Light Settings On

If you're a chronic Night Light Settings user like me, you might be at risk of screwing up your intended color scheme when making digital art. At the end of the day, it's not really a big deal if everything is slightly bluer than you wanted, but if you're as particular about it as I am, here's the solution I figured out for my own work in Clip Studio Paint!

[More under the cut]

Quick Aside: What is Night Light?

For anyone who doesn't know, Night Light is a display setting on Windows computers that casts an orange-y overlay across your screen to reduce the amount of blue light it usually gives off. Regardless of whether blue light is actually "harmful," I use it pretty often cuz it makes my eyes and head hurt a lot less after working on my computer all day. The only thing I always try to turn it off for is when I'm coloring/rendering my art, because it skews your perception of color.

(For example: I forgot to turn off Night Light while I was coloring a character yesterday. It looked fine on my computer screen, but if I had sent it to my phone or posted it somewhere, I would have realized that without the orange-y overlay, the skin looked jaundiced and all the blues looked kinda green. Which I did realize this morning. Hence the post lol.)

Solution:

First, I created a masking layer (i forgot to make it an actual masking layer but the function is practically the same shshshhhh) to recreate the orange-y tone Night Light had given me last night. I ended up choosing the blending mode Linear Burn and took the opacity down to 15%, but it'll probably depend on how high you keep your Night Light settings and what your end goal is.

Then, I created a Tone Curve correction layer above it to get the blue values back where I wanted them. I ended up going with a down-up S curve as depicted in the image below. It definitely wasn't perfect, but it got my colors back in the ballpark of where I wanted them!

Lastly, I went in and touched up any areas that needed special attention with individual correction layers (or just recolored entirely where needed — which thankfully wasn't much after steps one and two!)

Anyway, I don't usually post this kind of thing but I had trouble finding any other solutions online, so hopefully this can fill that info gap. If anyone else has found other solutions tho please share!

[420thewritersroom]

Warhammer/Horus Heresy Kinktober 2024

Day 18: Alpha Legion/Mechanodendrites/In Disguise

Summary: POV: You skype call your brother and he accidentally sees some narsty shit

Alpha legion time! This one is not as sexy, and more focus on some comedy as I refuse to treat the legion with Primarchs who are Gen Z coded with any ounce of respect (lovingly). Forgot completely that there was suppose to be a disguise aspect to it, but it's the Alpha Legion, it could be assumed, right? 😅 This will also take care of all the primary, first founding legions, and now we're gonna be branching out to other factions!

"Reedik, report." Graevegor watches the pic-screen flutter to life, fuzzy picture displaying Reedik's scarred face.

"Graevegor," Reedik acknowledges, "The Dark Mechanicum has located the scrambler device within the clutches of the Imperial scum, Évrard Fouché. The Inquisitor in question has been claimed; we have ways of making him talk." The static and skipping of the pic-vid interrupts Reedik a few times, but Graevegor understood his point. This doesn't stop the Alpha Astartes from grimacing, revealing his sharpened teeth.

"We have given the Mechanicum plenty of time to locate and retrieve the device; my lords' patience is running thin, and their time is limited. The location needs to be pinpointed and their defenses learned or torn down!"

"I share in your sentiment, brother," said Reedik. "The Inquisitor is a stubborn sort. His faith in the False Emperor-"

Graevegor lets Reedik explain himself. However, he notices movement in the background. The room around Reedik was dark, a single light illuminating his fellow Alpha Legion brother so that he was visible. Yet, this light source was enough to shadow what looked like someone being suspended in the air. Graevegor, too curious for his own good, taps a few keys on the board before him, enhancing the picture as much as the Machine Spirit would allow. The picture brightens, saturating Reedik's face slightly but revealing in full what was happening in the background.

"Brother, who's that?" Graevegor points out as he notices an individual, naked for all to see, tangled up in what seems to be mechanodendrites. However, he's unsure why this person, mortal in stature, was sucking on the metallic alloys. Or why there were several penetrating their entrance.

"Wh-who's what?" Reedik catches himself, surprised Graevegor was asking such a question.

"Who's that behind you, Reedik," Grae clarifies, even going as far as to point at his screen to where he sees the individual, despite this action not helping anyone but himself.

Reedik continued to stare at the screen, but his eyes shifted slightly, just enough that Graevegor saw a spark that lightened behind the fellow Astartes eyes. As though a hint of realization fell upon Reed. Reedik reaches out to the camera, shifting it so that it no longer showed the action behind Reedik. But he was no longer centered, and the video was facing a different part of the room Reedik was in. Even worse, the maneuver revealed the shadow outline of the mortal still being assaulted by the metal tentacles.

"Brother? Brother, I can't see you; why did you-who was that?" Grae spoke in a puzzled tone.

"It's nothing."

"That doesn't look like nothing, Reedik," Grae huffs. "And if it was nothing, you wouldn't have moved the vid screen to the other side of your room. I can barely see you now; I can only see your shoulder pauldron!"

"I had to move the screen because where it was positioned compromised its...integrity..." Reedik says plainly, keeping his tone steeled despite the poor excuse he gave.

"'Compromised its inte-,' brother, where the vid was positioned earlier was just fine. I heard you fine!"

"I just prefer having the screen show this side of my room."

"What is that supposed to mean, Reedik!?! You didn't do this before!" Grae exasperated, his anger boiling. "And who was that? The mortal in the background!"

There's a moment of silence between the two, just enough quiet time for Grae to hear a static and muffled...Moan? The shadow of the mortal wasn't clearly outlined, but Grae could get a good idea of what was being done to the mortal. The mechanodendrites shoved themselves into the mouth of the mortal, roughly, sliding down the human's throat. While 2 tendrils shoved themselves inside the mortal, bouncing the body in mid-air while the human seemingly tried to keep quiet.

"Brother, is that Inquisitor Évrard?" Grae had no reason to believe it was, but he couldn't imagine who else it could be.

"...Yes."

"What's he doing in your room? Are you interrogating him?"

"...Yes..."

"Reedik, it took you exactly 4.5612853 seconds to answer me."

"I said yes!" Reedik spats back like a vexed child who was caught doing something they shouldn't.

"That doesn't look like an interrogation, brother."

"It's a different method of interrogation." Reedik quickly answers. "You know that violence doesn't guarantee the victim will respond as intended."

"That never stopped you before, nor did it ever impeded us before." Grae points out.

"Do you want my report or not, brother?"

"I do, but if you have the subject of our woes in your room, firstly, why is the Inquisitor in your room to begin with, and two, why are the mechanodendrites doing that to their body?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here's the Kinktober lists for anyone who wants to partake! Let's be extra horny this lovely October

[chiliger]

For the procreate dream animatic you did, how did you do the blurry quick pan over? I love it so much. What are the issues you are facing with the program, is it worth the money?

Gonna have the explanation down below~ Along with my thoughts on the app.

So for the pan over, I used these two frames. They’re basically the same image except I moved them to different ends of the screen. I added a kinda motion effect to the second image by drawing “tails” cuz the app only has guassian blur. The speed they move depends entirely on how many frames on the timeline you give them. I was working at 12fps (frames per second) and set these at one frame each.

As for the “focus” camera blur on Boil and Numa. There are key frames I used to achieve that effect. First the “camera movement” which was done with moving the animation track layer. Procreate Dreams has a feature called “performance mode” (it’s the circle next to the play button, I forgot to circle that oops) where you move a layer in real time. It took me a few tries to get the movement I was looking for. (The same movement feature was used for Numa falling.)

Second was the filter effects feature where I made the track blur then un-blur like when a camera is trying to focus.

And yeah, I hope this helps answer your question.

As for my thoughts on the app and whether is worth the money. I would say that is will eventually be worth it. Procreate the company is planning on implementing more updates to the app soon to fix bugs and streamline features. But there are a lot of basic UI stuff that I feel should have been included with the release.

This app is by no means beginner friendly. There is a learning curve to it just like any animation or art program, but the fact that I had to watch tutorials to figure out things like where to find the onion skin, which is an essential tool for animating, it kinda had me a bit frustrated.

There is no selection tool, so you can’t move individual parts of a layer instead of the whole thing (I had to redraw a few things cuz I accidentally made them too big or positioned them too far off). At the moment there is no pen stabilization, which is important for a lot of people. And, something I have found important for my own workflow, is that I can’t expand frames. I do initial storyboards one after the other then figure out the timing after. But with Procreate Dreams, you either need to know off the bat how long you want your frames to be, or move frames on the track one by one to make space.

Overall, the Procreate Dreams app is great, and it will improve with time just like Procreate. I do wish the company had already included basic functions from the get-go, like camera movement, but I’m sure that will be added in the near future along with a lot of other things people are asking for.

✨If you want my recommendation on a really good animation app that feels more polished and has more basic features, then look at ToonSquid. It’s half the price of Procreate Dreams, and though there still is a learning curve, you can figure it out just by clicking around. Though I will say that the creator’s youtube tutorial is an important watch to really get your flow going.

My only gripe with ToonSquid is that it doesn’t have a blur feature, and the vector brushes could be better. But that’s kinda superficial at best and the creator has it on the list for a future update.

So yeah, if you’re getting into animation, I’d say skip Procreate Dreams for now and use ToonSquid.

[greensagephase]

Sweet Hibi, I didn't miss your lovely thoughts! 💕 I've been meaning to get to you and Lara, but I've been busy these past few days with a lot and not feeling well (headaches and seasonal allergies), but I literally had planned to get on Tumblr today to reply to you and then, here's your reblog, haha! Perfect timing!

Hibi, thank you so much for sharing so much of your thoughts! I’m literally over the moon with how so many of you lovely readers shared your thoughts for this chapter (I’m literally screaming)!!🥹

★ Ummm���. This is a great question, but I won’t be answering it because… No spoilers! Keep your eyes open, though. 🙂

★ Miguel getting all flustered about us calling him cute, hehe! He’s such a cutie! I love how his brain short circuited XD

★ Hibi, me, too! I don’t know how to ice skate. 😭 I used to roller skate when I was a kid, but stopped eventually and lost the skill, so I wouldn’t even have that experience anymore. It does sound very fun, though, and it would be wonderful to try with someone as patient as Miguel and with his guidance 🥺 I mean, he was so sweet, he even helped us put on our skating shoes (HE’S SUCH A GENTLEMAN). And haha, YES, MARRIAGE LEVEL! 🤭💖

★ Haha, the amount of mistletoe in this chapter and the teasing of a potential kiss, which ends in that cute fingertip kiss! I loved that little detail. 🥺 Thought it would be fitting and sweet to have them ‘kiss’ like that since that’s how they hug! 🥹

★ Omg, no, for real! Miguel trying to squeeze on the couch is a nope 💀

★ Miguel is truly so touch starved 🥺🥺🥺 but no worries, he won’t be like that forever :’)

★ The accidental cuddles — my heart!! That was one of my favorite moments in this chapter!! The way they sought each other, aughhh!!😭😭

★ OMG SJDKFJDKF THE FREAKING FLY AND NEWSPAPER EMOJIS FOR BEN SENT ME, HELP 😭😭😭😭😭 Why did I just imagine Miguel swatting Ben away with a newspaper for real? But honestly, that would be Miguel if he could. He’d shoo Ben away, haha! 💀

★ The uncle Miggle and Aunt Dulz - I forgot about that, but it’s so cute of Mayday 🥺 Also, yes :’) Gabby is her little friend! I thought it’d be sweet to include her and have her be Mayday’s little friend!

★ Peter truly ruined the almost kiss! When we catch him, I swear, when we catch him!

★ YESSS, CANON WARM MIGUEL! You bet this is going to come back again in the future :))

★ Lol Miguel really was like that meme of the lady with the equations going across the screen with the whole Ben situation. He was doing the work trying to figure things out. Seems like things are ok… For now. 😌

★ Miguel getting butterflies… You just know what that means! 👀👀

★ Our Queen Lyla playing matchmaker (along with Mayday), hehe! She wants us and Miguel to be together already!

★ The matching bracelets!! One of my favorite parts because the little knot is the Celtic lover’s knot! It symbolizes their love and bond💖

★ Yess, the butterflies show up again because of the symbolism of rebirth for them, both individually and together💕

★ YES, MIGUEL IS READY TO HUG AND IT’S NOT A DRILL!! 🗣🗣

★ It’s truly so crazy that another Christmas went by and I was still writing NC. I genuinely find it so shocking because as I’ve said, my initial plans were for this fic to be about 4 chapters long back in 2023, and now it’s 2025 and there’s 18 chapters more than I thought and more to come! Awww, Hibi, thank you for mentioning that! I definitely have woven myself into this fic and because of that, it’s going to be so, so, so bittersweet when it’s over, but I’m also going to be so proud that it’s completed. Thank you for being part of the journey, my friend!🥺

★ Haha, M and D are totally so normal about each other! So normal! 🤭But me, too, Hibi! I know I’m the writer lol, but I do love how much respect they have for each other. They’re also so understanding and caring for each other, just thinking about it makes me want to cry lol!😭 Also, Miguel’s thoughts at the end… I needed a moment, but I felt so proud of him for finally reaching this point. It’s been such a journey as the writer to see his progress, so fulfilling. 🥹 And yes, he does have it bad! I’m so ready for him to realize he’s not normal about Dulzura, ehehe!

★ Aww, don’t worry about yapping, pookie! You know I yap way much, so yapping is welcomed in this home, but thank you so much for the lovely wishes. I’m so freaking late to replying, but I wish you and your loved ones the same!!🥹🥹🥰💖💖

Alondra❤️

Nonviolent Communication - Part 22

Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: A getaway trip before Christmas with Miguel! ♡ Word Count: 27.6k (back on my shiz, what's new?😔) Warnings: mention of blood and injuries; mentions of Mexican/Latin food, but it's nothing new; the dating allegations are getting harder to deny, I'm afraid; slightly jealous Miguel??!🗣🤭 A/N: hiii, new update! Music Inspo (Spotify playlist): "Carol of the Bells" - John Williams "Better Than Snow" - Norah Jones, Laufey "Where or When" - Laufey "Die With A Smile" - Birru (piano version) "Nocturne (Interlude)" - Laufey Masterlist

Part 22

Snow sticks to the bottom of your shoes as you walk across the snow-covered pavement. The chill bites at your face, making you feel thankful about not forgetting your gloves or else, your fingers would be freezing right now. From somewhere in the city, you hear a clock strike seven times, announcing it's already 7pm. Internally cursing, you speed up to your destination. You could’ve simply traveled straight to the location from Miguel’s universe, but you decided against it to avoid any potential witnesses and now, you’re running a few minutes late.

Pausing at an intersection, you make the spontaneous decision to take a shortcut through an alleyway. If you were any other woman, you'd disapprove of this decision, but since you're Spider-Woman, you take the risk.

You move quickly through it, steering clear of frozen puddles of water under dirty and dimly lit light posts that make the alleyway a perfect place for a naive individual to run into trouble. Halfway across, your spider senses alarm you and a second later, an arm is wrapped around your shoulders.

“Drop all the money and jewelry you have,” a rough voice commands. “No screaming, or else.”

Seriously? You sigh internally. This is the second petty robber you've come across tonight just on your way to the dinner party.

“Did you not hear me? I told you to drop all the money and jewelry you have on you. Now. Don’t make me repeat myself, pretty thing,” the man says, his arm tightening around your body as a warning.

“You're lucky,” you start. “I don't have much time to teach you a proper lesson.”

The man snickers, amused by your words. “What could a thing like you do to me?” he arrogantly asks, that being the last thing he says.

In the blink of an eye, you easily free yourself and push the man against the wall, earning yourself a noise of surprise. You look at the poorly lit light posts and decide that they’ll at least keep your face hidden pretty well, so your identity won't be compromised.

“Now, where were we?” you ask, taking care of the matter. Two minutes later, you walk out of the alleyway and slip your phone back into one of your coat's pockets. You continue walking, police sirens audible in the distance.

It's not until you're about thirty feet away from the building’s entrance that you notice him, Felix Kerr. He's clad in dark clothes from head to toe, blending into the night. You hum to yourself, hoping he didn't see you slip out from the alleyway from a distance, but just in case he did, you relax your face and wear an expression of innocence and ignorance to the situation as you walk closer to the building's door.

“Madam,” Kerr says as a form of greeting, breaking the silence.

“Mr. Kerr,” you reply with a nod.

“Are you alright?” Kerr asks, pushing himself off a car — Harry’s — and stepping closer. His wide shoulders are covered in flakes of snow, making you wonder how long he's been outside in the cold and why.

“I am, thank you.”

“Allow me to walk you inside,” he says, gesturing to the double doors of the tall building. Before you even respond, he’s already moving towards the doors, expecting you to follow.

Silently, you follow and enter the building while he holds the door for you. Inside, you're both greeted by warmth, a sharp contrast to the coldness outside. Once you reach one of the elevators, Kerr steps aside to allow you in first.

“Ladies first,” he mutters.

Inside, Kerr presses a button and the doors close. You find yourselves, standing across from each other, leaning into the elevator's walls in silence, minus the elevator’s sound system announcing each floor level, for several seconds.

“You're lucky,” Kerr starts, breaking the silence.

“Pardon?” you respond, turning to look at him in the face.

“A petty robber was reported in that alleyway minutes before you stepped out from it. You're lucky Spider-Woman got him before you ran into him.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. How the hell does he know about that? Quickly, you use your genuine surprise to hide the reality, however.

“There was a petty robber there?” you ask, lifting a hand to your chest to pretend to be shocked and frightened by the news. “I did hear noises, but the alleyway is so poorly lit, I didn't see anyone. I assumed it was coming from the other side of the street. Oh, my goodness,” you mumble, looking down. “My landlord stopped me on my way out of the building to discuss something. It's why I'm running late. Had I been on time, I might have ran into them,” you lie. “Who knows what could've happened.” You sigh in relief and lift your face to look at Kerr again, who is observing you with a frown on his face.

“I’m glad you missed them, madam,” he replies. “Thankfully, Spider-Woman got there before you did.”

“Agreed,” you answer, pushing your hands into your pockets and turning to look at the digital display that reads the floor number. You clear your throat. “How did you find out so soon, sir?” you ask, turning to look at Kerr again.

At that, the older man gives you a small grin. “I used to be a police officer. My coworkers and I remain in touch, especially since I’m somewhat of a bodyguard for Mr. Harry. As soon as the call was reported, someone notified me since they know I’m in the area with him. I suppose they figured I could take action if needed before they arrived.”

“Oh, that’s… Great,” you answer, offering a small smile. You turn to look at the display again, feeling off not by the fact that Kerr is an ex-police officer, but because it seems that he’s still somewhat in touch with the police department, as if he were still active. Silently, you wonder if it’s illegal and also, if you’ve ever come across him in the past as Spider-Woman, but you cannot remember ever seeing him before that day you ran into Harry for the very first time in years.

“We’re here,” Kerr says just as the elevator doors open. “Ladies first.”

Thanking Kerr, you step into the fifth floor of the building. Christmas music, laughter, and conversations immediately reach your ears, reminding you that this is a Christmas work party Harry invited you to, even though you’re not an employee. He initially asked you about meeting on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, but you had to decline because you already have plans — plans that involve traveling to another destination with Miguel and part of the spider gang tomorrow.

Unfortunately, scheduling a dinner between Christmas and New Year’s isn’t possible because Harry is highly busy with work and will also be traveling out of the country with his father the day after Christmas. Still, Harry insisted he’d like to celebrate a bit with you, even if it meant you attending his father’s work Christmas party, and now you’re here.

In truth, you wish you were home by the fireplace with a cozy book and café de olla [coffee] with Miguel sitting across from you, both wearing pajamas or lounge clothes. Instead, you’re here in this room full of strangers.

“Mr. Harry is this way,” Kerr says, tearing you away even from the mental image of being home with Miguel.

You almost sigh in displeasure, but stop yourself from doing so. Following Kerr, you move past a few people before you’re in front of the man who once used to be a close friend. Seeing Harry’s face, you’re reminded of the awkward moment you both shared last month when he went straight for a hug while you offered a handshake. This time, thankfully, Harry holds back from instantly going for that and instead, he smiles at you and places his hand on your shoulder to greet you.

“You’ve arrived! I was wondering if you had forgotten,” Harry states, a hint of worry in his tone.

“No way,” you answer with a smile. “I was just a little late, I’m sorry.”

“Did something happen?” Harry asks, concerned.

“No, thankfully not,” you answer, reassuring him.

“Miss Y/N barely missed an encounter with a criminal, sir,” Kerr states, gently inserting himself into the conversation.

Harry’s eyes go wide before his gaze sweeps over you. “Oh, God. Are you okay?” he asks, placing his hands on both your shoulders to inspect you. “Are you hurt? Scared?”

“I’m alright, Harry,” you answer, slightly annoyed by Kerr. “I didn’t even see the person. I missed them completely.”

“Thank God,” Harry breathes out. “I’m so glad to hear that. Come on, let’s get you something to eat and drink. Thank you, Felix.” With that, Harry guides you away.

After two hours of conversing, eating, and drinking, Harry helps you slip on your coat when you inform him that you’re heading out. Insisting on walking with you, Harry guides you out after you thank his father and wish him well for the holidays and their trip.

“Please allow Felix to drive you home,” Harry says in the elevator, suddenly.

“What? No, no, that’s not necessary.”

“I can’t allow you to walk home alone this late. Much less when you hardly missed a criminal earlier. I’d drive you myself, but I must see everyone away.”

“It’s fine, Harry, seriously,” you insist.

“Please. I’ll be worried the entire time until you reach home,” Harry states, taking your arm and holding it. “You’ll be home sooner, too. Out of this cold weather.”

Sighing, you agree. “Alright, alright. If it’s not a bother.”

“Of course not. I’ll be relieved knowing you’re safe. And, Felix is free,” he answers before you both move towards his car. “Felix. Please drive Y/N home.”

“Yes, sir,” Kerr replies, moving quickly to open the backdoor on the passenger’s side. He looks between you both, waiting.

Harry smiles, his hand sliding down your coat. “Thank you for coming tonight. I’m glad we got to celebrate and enjoy a bit of the Christmas season together, even if it was through a work party. I wish we could’ve had dinner, but perhaps we can do something once the new year starts, and we’re both free.”

“That sounds wonderful. Once you’re back from your trip, we can discuss it,” you reply with a smile. “By the way, have a safe trip, okay? And, try to enjoy the holidays with Mr. Osborn.”

Harry laughs softly and nods. “I will. I try to appreciate every moment with my dad as much as possible, being the only parent I have left. We’ll make time to celebrate the holidays properly, for sure.”

“Good,” you answer, slipping into the car. “I’ll see you soon, then?”

“See you soon,” Harry answers, looking down at you. “Happy Holidays!”

“Happy Holidays!” you cheerfully reply before Harry steps back and Kerr closes the door. After waving goodbye and buckling your seat, Kerr begins the drive to your home.

Quiet Christmas music plays from the radio, filling a silence for several minutes. You find yourself staring out the window, counting the seconds until you’re home and done with this car ride, which feels awkward for some reason.

“Excited for the holidays, madam?”

You blink in surprise, not expecting the man to make small conversation. “… Yes… Yes, I’m excited,” you start softly. “What about you, sir?”

“Hm… Yes.”

You nod, despite the fact that he probably can’t see you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you reply before a short silence follows.

“Will you be doing some traveling, madam?” Kerr asks, continuing the small conversation.

With pursed lips, you decide not to fully share your plans. Better safe than sorry. “No traveling, just going to other people’s homes for the celebrations,” you share. “Small gatherings.”

“I see,” Kerr replies as he makes a turn.

You glance out the window before deciding it would be bad manners if you don’t ask about his plans. “What about you? Are you traveling with your family, or staying home?”

It takes several seconds for Kerr to reply, as if he’s deeply pondering your question, and you almost swear he looks at you through the rear view mirror for a second before he finally replies. “I’ll be traveling with Mr. Harry and Mr. Osborn.” Kerr pauses, letting that sink in. “I don’t have any family.”

“Oh,” you respond in a hushed tone, understanding that feeling very well from when you were alone before joining the Spider Society.

“Not anymore,” Kerr continues quietly as he pulls to the side of the street, in front of your building. He clears his throat, unbuckles his seat, and gets down in seconds.

Despite Kerr’s startling revelation that he no longer has a family, you quickly unbuckle your seat when you see how fast he gets out of the car. A second later, your door opens and Kerr is there, offering his hand to help you out. To avoid being rude, you accept the gesture and step out of the car. Shivering slightly now that you’re back in the cold weather, you quickly thank Kerr for helping you out and for the ride.

“No problem, madam. I’m simply doing my job,” Kerr replies, taking a step back. “I’ll let Mr. Harry know that you made it home safely.”

“Thank you. Have a good night, and… I hope you enjoy the holidays,” you gently say, taking several steps backwards, towards your building’s entrance. “And, be safe.”

“Thank you. I hope you and your friends enjoy the holidays, too. Take care,” Kerr says with a nod, seemingly unbothered by the cold.

With a final nod, you walk towards your entrance, feeling a heavy gaze all the way to the door. As you open, you dare to glance back, finding Kerr in the same spot and watching you, probably to ensure you truly make it home safely, or maybe because Harry asked him to.

Inside your apartment, you turn the lights on and do a quick check around your space. You fluff the couch pillows and refold the blanket over your couch, wasting time. Humming, you turn to the art work on your wall and stare at it before you turn away and check your gizmo. After a few seconds of reading random messages from your friends, you subtly check the window to ensure that Kerr is gone. Satisfied when you don't see the car anywhere in sight, you open a multidimensional portal and finally, **travel back to Nueva York.

You step into the penthouse, specifically the living room, where you find the fireplace roaring with gentle flames. Above it, a fluffy and big green garland with ribbon, ornaments, twinkling lights, and other Christmas decorations adorns the fireplace mantle.

"Dulzura? Are you home?" Miguel calls out from the kitchen.

"I'm home!" you answer with a smile upon hearing his voice. You quickly slip your coat off just as Miguel enters the living room, looking incredibly cozy and warm in a white cable knit sweater while carrying a tray with two mugs on it.

With a warm smile and pink cheeks due to the penthouse’s warmth, Miguel happily welcomes you back home. "How did it go?" Miguel asks, handing you a mug.

"Mmm, it smells so good," you murmur with a smile, lifting the mug closer to smell the freshly made Abuelita hot chocolate Miguel promised to have ready for your return [a hot chocolate brand]. "It went well. It was a work party, so I talked with a few strangers, but for the most part, I talked with Harry and his dad."

"I'm glad to hear it went well. Sounds like it went smoother than the previous time you met with him," Miguel replies, placing the tray on the coffee table.

You smile sheepishly, remembering the embarrassing and awkward moment with Harry and his attempt to hug you on Día de Los Muertos for the second time tonight [Day of the Dead]. You sigh in relief that that didn't happen again, or something of the sort. "Don't remind me. I'm getting embarrassed again just thinking about it, but thankfully, nothing like that happened. It went smoothly. I was just a little late because of petty crimes."

"What happened?" Miguel asks, worry instantly flashing in his eyes despite the fact that you’re Spider-Woman. Still, you get a fuzzy feeling inside seeing Miguel so concerned over you.

“Just two men trying to rob money and jewelry. I took care of them, no worries,” you answer, reassuring Miguel “How’s the packing?” you ask before taking the smallest sip from the hot chocolate to avoid burning yourself.

“My bag is ready. Yours?”

“I have a few things I still need to pack, but I’m pretty much done! I’ll pack them before I go to sleep. So, packing the groceries is the only thing we have left to do?” you ask, watching Miguel take a seat on the couch, the one you always sit on. You make note of that, how he opted to sit there instead of the couch he always sits on, on top of the fact that he’s leaving your specific spot open. You can’t help but interpret it as a silent invitation for you to take your spot, next to him, so you do.

“Yep, the groceries are the only things we’ll need to pack tomorrow. Other than that, we’re set,” Miguel answers before gently blowing on his mug. “Shock.” Miguel gets up, placing his mug on the coffee table. “I forgot the pan dulce [Mexican pastries].” Miguel almost facepalms at his forgetfulness. He was so happy about you returning already that he forgot about the damn pan dulce. A few seconds later, Miguel returns to the living room with a plate that contains a few pieces of the sweet pastries, neatly arranged. “Here we go!”

Miguel joins you once again on the couch, now with pan dulce to go with the hot chocolate. You both indulge, happy and relieved to be back in each other’s presence while basking in the cozy vibes from the penthouse thanks to the Christmas decorations you both put together; from the garland on the fireplace mantle to the Christmas tree. Drinking hot chocolate, you admire it.

It’s a tall and fluffy artificial tree — not holographic like previous years. Smiling to yourself, you remember how at the end of November, Miguel and you put it together along with the holographic one in the dining area and the one at your apartment. You enjoyed setting up each one, but this one… It has a special place in your heart.

It was Miguel who brought up the topic the day after Thanksgiving. Unlike the previous year, when you both brought up plans for Thanksgiving dinner barely a few days before the holiday, Miguel and you discussed it with plenty of time this year. It may have seemed silly, considering you spend so much time with each other already, to think that you wouldn’t spend Thanksgiving day together, but still, you both brought it up to confirm.

Of course, the answer was yes; you wanted to have dinner together for the holiday again. It resulted in the two of you cooking and inviting the spider gang to join you, hoping that some of them could join.

In the end, a majority of the spider gang made it, along with a very pregnant Mary Jane, Mayday, and Gayatri. With such delicious food and great company, the dinner extended longer than either Miguel or you anticipated, but neither of you minded. The next day, after waking up much later than you’re both used to and having a much needed mug with coffee, Miguel brought it up. He asked if you wanted to help him set up the Christmas tree.

You agreed, expecting it to be the holographic tree with holographic ornaments, but no. An hour later, Miguel came back from downstairs carrying a large box. The surprise must have been evident on your face because he grinned at you before he placed the box down in the living room floor.

“¿Qué [what?]? Did you forget what I told you about Christmas trees on Earth-928? We do have artificial trees, you know,” he said, still grinning.

You grinned back before he headed back downstairs to retrieve the decorations, thinking to himself that you must have forgotten what he told you in the past regarding trees for the holidays, but it wasn’t that. You didn’t forget what Miguel told you; about how most families have holographic trees on this Earth and that they have an app to design their ornaments together, making it a family tradition. Nor did you forget the fact that some individuals or families have artificial trees and some even live ones, but that only the wealthiest tend to go for the latter.

You remember thinking that you knew Miguel had money, more than plenty, since he lives in this penthouse and keeps up with the Spider Society’s headquarters. Along with that, you recalled thinking you expected Miguel to own an artificial tree, but that it was likely he didn't put it up because he hadn't celebrated the holidays in recent years. Since you’ve only ever seen a holographic tree in his home, Miguel must have thought you forgot the information he gave you because of your surprise, but it wasn’t that.

Your surprise wasn’t due to seeing an artificial Christmas tree on this Earth, but rather because Miguel actually brought out his. That was the reason for your surprise; that Miguel felt like putting a physical tree up, and on top of that, with you.

Perhaps it was silly, but as the two of you assembled the tree and fluffed the branches before decorating it while lively and joyous holiday music came from the record player, you couldn’t help but consider it as yet another step forward for Miguel.

It was hard not to when you noted the smile on his face while he added beautiful ornaments to the top of the tree where you couldn’t reach, something he teased you about. Ornaments, bows, and other small decorations were added to the tree and when you thought it was all done and ready to lit up, Miguel disappeared upstairs.

He came back shortly with a bag, wearing a sheepish expression on his face. You didn’t know why, but you had a feeling it had to do with what was inside the bag, and you were right.

Inside the bag were clear, see through ornaments to be decorated along with supplies for such activity. Still looking sheepish, Miguel explained that DIY ornaments are also a thing in his dimension.

“And, I thought — I was thinking — you know,” Miguel said, his cheeks feeling warm while trying to relay the purpose of him buying those supplies. “If you want, which you don’t have to,” he continued, scratching his neck out of shyness. “That we could make some?”

You chuckled sweetly and walked past him. “You’re so cute when you’re nervous,” you murmured before you took a seat on the floor and picked up a clear ornament.

“I’m wha — cute?” Miguel asked, so flabbergasted that the words were barely a whisper. He watched you with wide eyes and even redder cheeks while you looked through the supplies with much excitement, he wondered why he was even nervous about asking you. Meanwhile, his brain was struggling to process the fact that you called him ‘cute’. A few seconds later, he pulled it together and joined your side, clearing his throat and hoping that you hadn’t notice any of that because in the moment, Miguel couldn’t even understand why your simple and short statement was affecting him so much.

In the end, the activity gave you something fun to do together and once completed, the ornaments were hanged on the tree not far from each other — as if neither of you could handle even your ornaments being too far apart from the other.

Now, your gaze falls on those ornaments, hanging so beautifully from the lit tree. A few branches below those, hangs another one that catches your attention. It turns out there are highly small projectors, small enough to fit inside a regular-size ornament, available on this Earth, and now, there’s that ornament displaying pictures of Miguel and you throughout the year.

Musing on the tree, Miguel drinks hot chocolate from his mug while your eyes move around the rest of the living room. After the Christmas tree, Miguel brought out other decorations, which resulted in the garland over the fireplace mantle, poinsettias on the coffee table, Christmas lights lining the windows, blankets on the couches paired with decorative pillows in winter colors, and other decorations, including a stocking for each of you with your names embroidered on them. The penthouse has never looked this cozier, that’s for sure. It’s the reason why Miguel and you decided to only spend the weekend away and return the day before Christmas Eve to the penthouse again; neither of you wished to be away from home for Christmas.

-♡-

The next morning, the groceries are packed away and everything from ensuring that the doors are locked to the air conditioner being set the way it needs to is checked before you both head out. With the help of the gizmos, Miguel and you arrive to the location in seconds, where you’re both welcomed by a cold breeze and the crunch of snow beneath your shoes.

Standing side by side, Miguel and you take in the view. The cabin, a single floor space, sits right in front of you. It’s surrounded by tall, majestic trees that seem to be hundreds of years old. The front of it is aesthetically decorated with rounded bushes covered in snow. In fact, almost everything in front of you is covered by snow except for a single path leading up to the cabin’s door. On one side, there’s logs ready to be used for a fireplace and on the other end, wooden chairs surround a fire pit.

“Looks cozy,” you state at last, looking around and realizing your cabin is far away from the rest were members of the spider gang should be staying at.

“It does. I like the pine trees,” Miguel says with a soft smile. “Should we head in?”

“Yes!”

After finding the key under the door mat, Miguel and you enter the cabin, completely missing the cabin’s name found above the door on a metal plaque —Lover’s Cabin.

Once inside, the two of you look around with interest and drinking in the coziness from the warm tones and Christmas decorations, including a Christmas tree, in the living room. You move to check the kitchen, finding it cozy and quaint. After putting the groceries away and becoming acquainted with the kitchen, you finally inspect the bedrooms to select one for your stay.

“You can have this room,” you say after a second or two when you realize the last room is the master’s bedroom since there’s a king size bed and has an en suite bathroom.

“Why?” Miguel asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Bigger bed,” you simply state, as if that alone should make sense. Noticing his raised eyebrow, you continue. “You’re a tall man.”

Miguel snorts, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on the doorway. “So, just because of my height?”

“Yep! I’ll take the other room, alright?”

“Are you sure?” Miguel asks.

“I’m sure. I’m going to unpack now,” you announce. “And then, we can… Unwind for a little before we do other stuff.”

“No rush. We can figure it out once we unpack, Dulzura,” Miguel replies gently, gazing at you with nothing short of an adoring gaze, even without realizing so.

“Right,” you answer with a smile. “This is meant to be relaxing.”

“And, a bit spontaneous,” Miguel adds, his hand suddenly itching to rest on your shoulder as a form of reassurance. Just when he lifts his hand, however, you walk back to the first bedroom, leaving his hand hanging.

“Alright, let’s unpack,” you eagerly say as you walk away. You glance at him with a smile before you enter your bedroom, unaware of how close Miguel was to making physical contact.

With a quiet yet defeated sigh, Miguel enters his own room carrying his luggage. He unpacks his personal hygiene items first, placing the items in the bathroom, before unpacking his clothes and placing them in the empty dresser. He walks around once he’s done as an attempt to get acquainted with the room and to ensure the windows are locked. At last, he turns to the bed and runs his hand over the bedding, finding it soft. He presses a hand into the mattress, trying to see if it’s going to be comfortable or not just as you walk into the room, missing a slight noise the base and headboard made when he pressed down.

“All unpacked?” Miguel asks straightening up, satisfied with the mattress.

“Yes. You?”

“Same. I was just checking the bedding, making sure it’s comfortable,” he says walking closer to you. “Is everything okay with your room? No issues? We can switch, if you want.”

You shake your head with a smile. “No issues. Everything is fine, so no need to switch on my behalf. You?”

“The room is great,” Miguel answers with a smile, glad to hear that you’ve found your room satisfactory. “So… We're here now. Our little Christmas getaway begins now.”

The vacation begins by settling down in the cozy living room. Miguel starts the fireplace, blankets are unfolded, and books, which you both brought along with you, are taken out. You both settle on a different couch, which you both find much smaller than the ones back at the penthouse, to read for a while. Eventually, you both grow hungry and decide to make brunch in the cabin’s kitchen.

“Do you want to go out? Head to the village?” Miguel asks once you’re both done eating and cleaning the kitchen.

Humming, you look around, thinking. “If you’d like to. Unless you want to do something else and check out the village tomorrow since we’ll be taking Mayday anyway.”

“That’s true,” Miguel answers, remembering that you both offered to look after her to give Peter and Mary Jane a little break, for lack of a better word, since they have a newborn at home and also, to give Mayday a chance to be out of the house, considering Mary Jane is recovering and Peter is taking care of her, while they both look after the baby. “There’s a little bookshop, coffee shop, and an ice skating rink just outside the village — it’s kind of separated from it by a small forest.” Miguel shrugs, smiling softly. “What do you think about a coffee and a visit to the book shop?”

“You know what? That sounds better than snow,” you answer with an excited smile. “You want to head out now?”

“If you’re up for it,” Miguel replies.

“Give me five minutes, please, and we can be on our way!”

“Take your time,” Miguel says, finding your excitement contagious and endearing. “No rush. Today, we’re being spontaneous.”

“Spontaneous,” you repeat. “We’re going with the flow.”

Miguel laughs softly and nods. “We’re going with the flow for this trip.”

After quickly getting ready and dressing appropriately for the weather, Miguel and you leave the cabin and walk on foot to the small area he suggested. The walk is a short one despite the snow and it grants you both a moment of tranquility and fresh air. You even spot squirrels scurrying away with their mouths full, carrying food to their small and cozy homes within trees. When you reach the small area at last, you pause and admire it, guessing that it’s only a small teaser of what the village has in store for you tomorrow.

The first stop is at the welcoming and warm coffee shop, where Miguel, always the gentleman, buys coffee and warm pastries for the two of you. You get on to him for always treating you to things and hardly giving you opportunities to reciprocate, which he chuckles about as you walk to the book shop. Amused with your little frown, he tells you not to worry about it.

Once at the book shop, the two of you browse every shelf high and low for an interesting book to take home with you. By the end of your search throughout the entire shop, you head to pay with Miguel, who carries the shopping basket for the two of you. And of course, Miguel pays before you get a chance to.

“That was a successful book shopping trip,” Miguel states softly once you exit the shop, carrying a reusable bag with everything that you both picked up.

“They had a lot of great options. I’m excited to read every book I picked. You?”

“Same. I got a few sci-fi books, and the others are in genres I don’t read much. I figured I’d give them a try,” Miguel answers as you walk past the ice skating rink. Still walking, Miguel glances back at the sign announcing the entrance and fee. “Would you like to — To go ice skating?” he asks suddenly, making you stop in your tracks.

“Ice skate?” you repeat, glancing at the entrance and reading the sign. You bite the inside of your cheek and turn to look at Miguel again. “I…” you trail off, nervously.

“We don’t have to,” Miguel says, immediately noticing your reluctance. “I simply noticed the sign and thought it sounded fun. I haven’t gone ice skating in forever, but it’s silly. Plus, it’s going to get dark soon and we have the bonfire with our friends, so —” Miguel continues, but is interrupted by you.

“I don’t know how to ice skate,” you gently confess with a bit of embarrassment. “It’s not silly at all. It actually does sound like a lot of fun, but I don’t know how to skate. I always wanted to try it out, but… It’s one of those things that you never make time for.” You smile sheepishly at Miguel. “So, yeah… But! I can watch you! I’d still find it enjoyable to watch.”

“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it,” Miguel answers softly, understanding. “We can go back to the cabin and unwind before the bonfire instead.”

“Please. It sounded like you really want to. Don’t stop on my behalf,” you insist with a smile. “I’d be more than happy to watch you. Maybe I’ll even get inspiration and try to learn as a new year’s resolution.”

Miguel chuckles before he sighs. He glances at the sign and then back at you. “You sure?”

“One hundred percent. Come on,” you say, leading the way.

Inside, Miguel heads to the ticket area to pay and get a pair of skates. While he does that, you settle down on a bench facing the ice rink, excited to see Miguel skate and have fun. A minute or two later, Miguel is at your side again, holding a pair of skates that look far too little for him. Just as you’re about to inquire about that, he kneels in front of you and it’s only then that you realize he’s already wearing a pair.

“Wait — Miguel?” you ask, looking at him a little confused.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Miguel starts, looking at you. “I went ahead and bought a ticket for you, too.”

“But, I don’t know how to skate,” you remind him softly, amused.

“But, I do,” Miguel answers with a soft smirk. “And you said, that by watching me, maybe you’d get inspired to learn, so I thought… Why not start now? If you’re okay with it, of course! I’m not pressuring you, just offering. I’ll guide you.”

Quietly exhaling, you glance at the ice and find it slightly intimidating.

“Hey,” Miguel starts, trying to get your attention again. “It can be a little scary at first, but after a few minutes, you get a little used to it. You just need a guiding and helping hand.”

Smiling, you nod. “Right. It’s like everything else… I… Okay,” you answer, nodding more to yourself for encouragement. “Alright. I’ll try it out.”

“Good, I’m happy to hear that,” Miguel answers with a grin before he gestures to your shoes. “I’ll help you put your skates on.”

“Wha- That’s not necessary! I can put them on myself.”

“It’s no problem, plus,” Miguel says as he begins to fix the shoe laces on the skates while you slip off your shoes. “I tie them in a specific way to ensure they’re truly secure. Sometimes they feel a little loose and tying them the right way makes a big difference.” With that, Miguel helps you put the skates on, despite your shyness about it.

He carefully ties the first one, concentrated on the task while you sit on the bench.

“How come you don’t do that for me?” a woman mumbles behind you from somewhere.

“That’s marriage level,” a man answers.

Curious, you glance back and spot a young couple walk by, exiting the skating rink. You hum to yourself, unsure what the couple were talking about.

“All done,” Miguel says with a smile.

“Thank you,” you answer, looking at the skates now on your feet. You glance up at him, a nervous look on your face. “I suppose… We go now?”

With a grin, Miguel nods. “If you’re ready. Or, we can take a few minutes if you need them. No rush,” he firmly states. “At your own pace.”

You sigh softly, mentally preparing yourself before you nod. “Let’s do this.”

“Are you sure? If you need a few more minutes, that’s more than okay.”

“I think I’m ready,” you insist. “Can we just… Stick to the edge, so I can hold on to the boards?”

Miguel smiles and nods. “Of course. Whatever is more comfortable for you. Ready?” he asks, standing up and extending a hand to you.

You look at him and then at his hand, truly noticing for the first time that he’s wearing the gloves you gifted him the previous year for Christmas. The sight brings a small smile to your face before you accept his hand with your own gloved one, standing up.

“Ready, I think,” you answer, trying to stand very still. “Okay,” you breathe out, unused to the feeling.

“Step like this, look,” Miguel gently guides, demonstrating for you while still holding your hand.

With his demonstration, you slowly but surely make it to the actual ice rink without falling. Miguel, ever the patient man with you, continues to guide you.

“Some people try to walk,” Miguel says. “But skating isn’t like walking because you’re not walking. You’re gliding on the ice. To get the feel, you need to start off by gently marching.” Still holding your gloved hand, Miguel marches, staying near you. “Like this, see?”

“Mhm. I can tell already that you’re — like, pre-gliding.”

Miguel chuckles. “Pre-gliding, that’s right. Okay, do you want to try now?”

You huff softly, out of nerves, and nod. “Yes. Marching, right,” you mumble more to yourself than him. Despite Miguel holding your hand, you still hold on to the boards. “March, march, march,” you whisper, moving your feet. “If I fall, I’m going to try very hard not to use my webs to help myself.” You state, marching shakily.

“I won’t let you fall,” Miguel states with a soft smile. “I’ll catch you. You trust me, right?”

“Yes, of course. I trust you. It’s me I don’t trust in this situation,” you answer. “I feel like I’m one second away from one of my feet gliding a little too far and then, falling on my butt.”

“You won’t fall,” Miguel assures you again, squeezing your hand and surprising you in the process because of it. “I’ll catch you however many times I must. I promise.” He grins at you before he continues on with his lesson. “However, I should probably teach you how to correctly get on the ground if needed, and how to get up again. Safely.”

After showing you those things and having you practice everything he’s taught you, Miguel then shows you how to ‘kick’ your feet off the ice to properly skate. When you successfully skate about fifteen feet or so, Miguel congratulates you.

“Great job! You’re doing amazing, Dulzura,” he proudly says, still holding your hand. “It took me far longer to get used to the gliding, but you — You’re already so much more comfortable with it.”

“Thank you! Your patience and guidance made it possible. I’m no longer as nervous as before. I see why people enjoy this,” you answer. Grinning, you slowly let go of the boards.

“There we go,” Miguel whispers, noticing that you’ve let go and you’re now only holding on to him. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this new experience. It’s a fun activity, and you can even learn tricks when you get more experience.”

“Do you know tricks?” you ask Miguel.

“Mm… Not really. Just spinning around, but it’s been a long time since I’ve skated. I probably can’t even do that now,” he answers with an amused smile. “Plus, I won’t let go of you now that you’ve let go of the boards. Maybe in the future. For now, lets try to circle around the rink — get you more comfortable.”

Continuing to apply what Miguel taught you, you grow more and more comfortable and manage to complete one full lap of gliding around the rink.

“I think… I’d like to try on my own,” you announce when you skate, still slowly, past the rink’s entrance.

“Alright, I’ll loosen my hand, and you can release mine when you’re ready,” Miguel responds, trying to make everything confortable and safe for you. He slowly loosens his grip on your hand and a few seconds later, he feels your hand slip away. With much pride, Miguel watches you skate on your own for the very first time.

“I’m doing it,” you say with a smile as you move. “I’m actually doing it, Miguel.”

“You are.” Miguel answers with a smile. “You’re doing so well,” he continues, keeping up with you and remaining alert, just in case.

You giggle softly and kick your feet a little harder, trying to gain a little more speed.

Unable to stop himself from smiling, Miguel speeds up just a tad to keep up. He watches in awe as you move, the sound of your giggling kindling a fluttering in Miguel’s chest.

“I think I’d like to keep practicing in the future,” you say, looking up at him for a moment. Unfortunately, looking at Miguel distracts you, eliciting a loud gasp from yourself as you feel your foot move in a way it shouldn’t. The sense of falling is barely registered by your brain when strong hands take your arms and hold you steady.

“Tranquila [relax; feminine noun],” Miguel gently mutters, holding you. He helps you straighten up first, trying to make the near accident as calm and smooth as possible. “You’re not falling, remember?” He continues with a small smile as you sigh in relief.

“Yes. You’re not letting me fall,” you answer, your shoulders relaxing slightly after growing tense. You exhale again and gather yourself. “I’m sorry. I got distracted looking at you.”

“Hey, no reason to apologize. Small accidents are going to happen,” Miguel reminds you. “Even those with years under their belt have hiccups.”

You chuckle. “Thank you — for the lesson and for catching me.”

Miguel’s gaze softens as he gazes at you, his hands releasing your arms. “Always,” he answers, wholeheartedly, before his hand moves to yours. “Do you want to do another round? Maybe this time faster?”

“Faster?”

“I'll hold both your hands,” Miguel assures. “And you can experience skating with a little more speed. Only if you're open to it, of course.”

You hum and look around the rink before nodding with a smile. “I'd like that.”

“Hold on tight,” Miguel instructs, offering his other hand and standing in front of you. Once you're holding hands, he begins to skate backwards with ease. “You're doing great.” Miguel praises as you simultaneously follow and allow him to lead, moving your feet. “We're gonna pick up speed now,” he informs to avoid startling you.

“Alright, alright,” you answer, bracing yourself for a different pace, but Miguel does it so carefully that you hardly feel the transition. “Hey, this isn’t so bad!”

Miguel grins, guiding the two of you around the rink. He continues to skate, gently tugging you along. “Having fun?”

“Yes!” You answer, chuckling.

The two of you continue to skate, moving along the ice rink laughing and talking, unaware of strangers’ gazes. The innocent bystanders stop and watch, the sight of you alluding to an intimate, warm, and beautiful romantic connection; the kind that millions and millions of people across the vast multiverse can only ever dream about and wish for.

At last, the two of you reach the entrance, feeling like that round went by much faster than it should’ve.

“Do you wish to keep practicing, or would you like a break? Or, go back to the cabin?” Miguel asks.

“Hmm… How are you feeling?”

“I personally… Would be okay if we return to the cabin, but what about you?”

“Me, too,” you say, moving your feet a bit to ease some tension in them. “I’m kind of tired of wearing the skates.”

“Understandable,” Miguel answers. “Come on, I’ll help you get off the ice rink.”

Along with helping you get out of the ice, Miguel also helps you remove your skates, despite your refusal out of embarrassment, before he returns both pairs. A few minutes later, you’re back on your way to the cabin.

“That was a lot of fun,” Miguel softly starts after a few minutes of silence. “Thank you for indulging me by joining me. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.” Miguel looks at you, carrying the tote bag with books.

“Are you kidding? I loved it!” Smiling, you eagerly continue. “After my initial nervousness, you helped me get over it and simply enjoy the learning experience. For some reason, I thought it was going to be scarier. Maybe that’s why I never actually tried it in the past. I can’t remember if I ever even told Peter that I’d like to learn,” you say, silently trying to remember if there was ever a time you shared that with your boyfriend. “Either way, I loved it. Thank you for suggesting it in the first place, and for teaching me.”

“Always,” Miguel answers with a sweet smile on his face, more than happy that you enjoyed it as much as he did despite how random it was.

“Hey! What are you guys up to?!”

The sudden number of voices startle you both, directing your attention towards them. Hobie, Pav, Margo, Noir, and Penny wave at the two of you.

“Heading back to the cabin!” Miguel answers once he realizes it’s them.

“We’re having a bonfire! Wanna come?!” Hobie yells.

“When?!” you ask.

“… Now!” they all reply, waving you over.

“Are you up for a bonfire?” you ask Miguel, turning to look at him.

“We have marshmallows! Andddddd hot dogs!” another voice says in a singsong voice. Peter Porker.

“Are you interested?” Miguel asks.

“Roasted marshmallows. That’s something I haven’t had in a long, long time.”

“Well, how can we say no to that, then?” Miguel answers with a grin.

“Are you in, or not?!” the group yells.

“We’re in!” Miguel and you yell back in unison.

Half an hour later, Miguel and you sit next to each other toasting marshmallows with mini chocolate bars and graham crackers to make s’mores.

“Dang, how much longer are you guys toasting your marshmallows?” Gwen asks, looking at both of you. “It looks like your marshmallows are going to be burnt.”

“I like mine toasty,” Miguel answers.

“Me, too,” you reply. “Another minute, or two.”

“I think those are beyond toasty,” Gwen responds, but Miguel and you shrug and continue on.

Two minutes later, you’re both assembling your s’mores at last.

“Just perfect,” you mumble, gently squeezing the sandwich and watching the chocolate drizzle down the marshmallow.

After taking a bite, Miguel hums in approval. “It’s great. Nice little dessert after skating.”

“Agree. An unexpected dessert, but so, so good,” you answer.

“You guys went skating?” Hobie asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, eating your s’more.

“I didn’t know you guys know how to skate,” Miles says with interest, earning a few head nods in agreement.

“I don’t — Or, well, I didn’t, but now I have a little bit of experience. Miguel taught me today,” you reveal with a small smile.

“And Dulzura did amazing,” Miguel adds, looking at you with a warm smile — one that seems to be reserved just for you, as far as the spider gang is concerned.

Glances are shared amongst your friends, curious as always. It’s no secret that Miguel and you hold each other in high regard, or that you occupy a place in the heart of the once stoic man. You even have your own nickname, which none of them are even sure where or when it came to be. One day, they simply heard Miguel address you as such and noted the level of comfort and familiarity you had with it, meaning the nickname had had to be a thing for some time.

“Thanks to you,” you answer. “You made it fun and not so scary.”

Smiling at each other, Miguel and you continue to eat your s’mores before you become aware of teasing noises from your friends.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“Nothing,” Miles answers, giving a warning look to the others, but Hobie Brown has other plans.

“You guys are under mistletoe,” Hobie says with a half smirk.

That simple statement makes your heads snap upwards, finding the plant innocently hanging over the two of you from a tree. Neither of you noticed it earlier, somehow, but it’s there — hanging so effortlessly above the two of you, a Christmas symbol for many and one with several meanings, such as peace, goodwill, love, and even fertility. And of course, there’s that one tradition when two people happen to be below it that involves…

Slowly, Miguel and you look away from the mistletoe and at each other once the realization dawns on you. The respectful distance between you suddenly seems shorter, much shorter. Gazing into each other’s eyes, you both sense the continuous teasing, but also curious energy radiating from your friends. Will you kiss?

“I — Um,” Miguel starts, his brain failing to form words.

“Wow, um, we didn’t — didn’t see it earlier,” you stammer, still looking at Miguel before you look away to face your friends. You offer a small smile. “It’s just a silly tradition, right?” you ask, turning to look at Miguel again.

“Yeah — Yeah, it’s an old tradition,” Miguel quickly replies, still looking at you.

“And besides, you know — Miguel, he — We must be respectful of each other. And I mean that for everyone,” you continue, stopping yourself just in time before stating that Miguel isn’t open to physical touch, much less a kiss. “Including you all. So, yeah.”

“If you say so,” Hobie answers before he takes a drink, slightly shaking his head in either disbelief or amusement, who knows.

“In my universe, the ancient Greeks used mistletoe berries to treat some medical conditions, and even as a way to promote fertility,” Margo shares, shifting the focus from you and Miguel.

You exhale softly and take a drink, glad for the distraction Margo has provided. Slowly, you glance at Miguel to gauge his reaction now. You find him staring at the bonfire, what’s left of his s’more forgotten for now.

“Hey,” you whisper, catching his attention.

“Hey,” he replies in a whisper, turning your way.

“You okay?” you ask.

Miguel nods, slowly smiling a bit. “Yes, thank you.” He pauses and looks at his s’more. “I know what you did there, so thank you.” You raise an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. “Without bringing up my physical touch thing, you steered the conversation away,” he explains, whispering. “Thank you for time and time again respecting my boundaries.”

You smile slowly and nod. “Always. I’m not pushing your boundaries over a silly tradition,” you answer, not quite believing the ‘silly’ part, but saying it in hopes of easing any discomfort.

“I wouldn’t say it’s silly,” Miguel gently counters, informing you indirectly that perhaps… He isn’t opposed to participating in the tradition and would kiss you, if the circumstances were different; those being Miguel’s boundaries with physical touch and a worry of disrespecting each other. “It's a fun, old tradition. As long as there's no disrespect.”

“I agree,” you confess. “I said that for you. I didn't want the situation to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” Miguel answers, realizing that that means you'd be open to the tradition, too. “So you… You participate?”

“In the past, yes, but only with Peter,” you share, looking at the bonfire's flames briefly.

“I see,” Miguel responds.

A few seconds later of debating, you watch Miguel lift his hand with his index finger out towards you.

You stare at his finger and then look at him, wondering. Slowly, you raise your own finger to the same height as Miguel's, leaving a few inches of separation.

Smoothly, Miguel moves his finger closer and closer until there’s barely an inch of space left. A second later, his finger moves the rest of the way and ever so gently, presses against yours at the top.

You watch in silence, smiling sheepishly and leaving your finger in place until Miguel slowly retracts his own, about thirty seconds later. Smiling to yourselves and ignored by your friends, who are too busy talking about some celebrity from another universe, you continue to enjoy your s’mores with the silent yet mutual understanding of what that gesture shared between you symbolizes: a kiss underneath the mistletoe.

-♡-

Hours later, Miguel and you are back in your own cabin after the bonfire. After showering to wash away the scent of smoke, dinner was cooked and eaten. Out of nowhere, you surprised Miguel with a little self-care moment that involved matching headbands and treating yourselves with gentle skincare before unwinding with Christmas movies and snacks in the living room; finishing the day in a relaxing manner.

“Good night,” you softly say with a smile once the last movie is over and you've both cleaned up the living room from your activity.

“Good night. Sleep well,” Miguel answers, reciprocating the smile. He enters his own bedroom once he sees you enter your own and heads to the en suite bathroom to do his routine. Once done, Miguel steps out of the bathroom and begins to prepare his bed to sleep, ensuring that your sweatshirt is near him.

He slips off his top and places it at the end of the bed before climbing on it and laying down. Staring at the ceiling, he sighs softly and begins to reflect on the day, thinking to himself how much he enjoyed spending the day with you. Rolling on his side, Miguel smiles to himself as he fondly recalls the day’s activities like the cooking, watching the movie, the relaxing self-care, and the ice skating. It’s then that his thoughts shift to that moment at the bonfire, but before he can reflect on it, he hears a noise coming from his bed.

Already laying on your bed, you’ve barely tucked yourself in when you hear a semi-loud noise from Miguel’s bedroom. The loudness startles you so much you immediately climb out of bed and walk to Miguel’s room.

“Miguel?” you call out, pushing the door open without thinking about asking first. “I’m turning on the light.” Once you locate the light switch, you flick it and freeze at the doorway when you find Miguel’s bed, and him on it, partly on the floor while the other half remains in place. “Are you okay?” you ask, rushing to his side to help him as he begins to move.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just a scratch, I think,” he answers as he maneuvers himself to stand up.

“How did that happened?” you ask in shock, offering your hand just in case Miguel needs help. A second later, Miguel accepts it. You clasp hands, securely, and pull him up before releasing his hand.

“I heard a noise and next thing I know, I’m falling,” Miguel answers, shaking his head in amusement.

You look at him, finding a smile on his face. “I’m surprised you didn’t say anything while it was happening. I would’ve probably cursed out of surprise.”

Miguel chuckles softly. “I did, internally. It happened so fast,” he says, crouching to inspect the damage. “Seems like the base and this side of the headboard cracked.”

“Surely it was broken before we arrived,” you state, crouching next to Miguel to look at the situation. In doing so, you notice the sweatshirt you gave Miguel earlier this week for his sleep, still clinging to the half hanging mattress. “It seems the owners failed to catch this.”

“It appears so,” Miguel answers in amusement as you both continue to look at the broken bed.

You sigh softly just as you notice that there are several spots on the wall where the paint has chipped off, right about where the top of the headboard lines up. Your mouth parts slightly as you realize what the reason must be for that.

“Oh,” Miguel quietly mutters, his gaze on the wall, too. He hadn’t noticed that before until now, and now that he does, his cheeks flush as he realizes.

“Umm... You said you got a scratch?” you ask, shifting the conversation.

Miguel turns to look at you, his cheeks still red. “It’s probably nothing,” he says, lifting his bicep to check. “I think I hit it against the nightstand in my attempt to catch myself.”

“Here, let me see,” you gently request.

“It really is nothing,” Miguel answers, standing up.

“It doesn’t hurt to check,” you reply, keeping your eyes on Miguel’s face because he’s shirtless.

“Alright, alright,” Miguel murmurs softly before he shows you his bicep, which immediately earns himself a frown from you. “It’s not that bad.”

“There’s blood,” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll find a first aid kit. Please sit down… “ you trail off and look around the room, searching for a chair or something for him to sit on. “There,” you gesture once you locate a wing back armchair near the dresser. Without giving Miguel a chance to decline your help, you head to his bathroom in search of the kit. Thankfully, you find one under one of the sinks. “Alright, I found one.” You announce, leaving the bathroom and walking straight to Miguel, who is sitting on the chair just like you asked him to.

“It’s truly fine, Dulzura,” Miguel insists just as you kneel at his side. He looks away for a few seconds, finding it unnecessary for you to give him this much attention to the point you’re on your knees. “It’s just a small scratch.”

“I said that to you many months ago. On Father’s Day when I hurt myself, remember?” you say, opening the first aid kit and looking for the right supplies. “It was just a scratch and you still tended to it.”

“That’s…” he starts, but trails off because he was about to tell you that that situation was different.

“Please… Just let me,” you gently say, looking up at him.

“I — Okay,” Miguel answers, staring back at you and finding it impossible to refuse your care and attention any longer. He swallows softly, his maroon eyes gazing over your face. “Alright, thank you… Thank you, Dulzura.”

You smile sweetly at Miguel before you begin checking the wound. “It’s pretty long,” you state. “May I…?” You look up again, referring to touching him.

“Yes,” Miguel replies quietly.

You nod before gently cleaning the bit of blood present. Your fingers touch his skin respectfully, always polite of Miguel’s boundaries.

Miguel looks away a few seconds later and stares at the broken bed while you continue to work. He flexes the fingers from his free arm over and over again, feeling your fingers on his skin and trying not to think about how pleasant your touch is.

“All clean,” you murmur. “Luckily, it’s not a deep scratch, but it’s still good to make sure.” You search through the kit to find some kind of ointment, something to alleviate any discomfort and help boost the healing process before turning to face him again, the situation reminding you of last year, when you tended to much worse injuries on Miguel’s body. At that, your face softens and your gaze sweeps over Miguel’s torso, easily spotting those old scars. The itch to trace them suddenly overwhelms you, a need to physically feel them to assure yourself they’re truly only scars and no longer wounds in need of attention.

Of course, you don’t; doing so would be far too intimate and would disrespect Miguel’s boundaries. Internally, you tell yourself to focus as you begin to softly apply the ointment to Miguel’s scratch. You focus on that for a moment before your gaze strays away for a few seconds, despite yourself, to Miguel’s physique, noting and remembering details of Miguel’s body; his tan skin, the scars that were once wounds tended by you, the scars that were already there before, the multiple lines defining muscles from years of physical activity, and the soft trail of hair leading down to Miguel's —

You swallow and look away, scolding yourself for noticing silly things. Instead, you focus on how the ointment melts into Miguel's warm skin as you apply it, his warmth seeping into your own.

“Looks good. It should heal quickly,” you say, clearing your throat and reluctantly removing your hand from Miguel.

Miguel glances at you as you begin to place everything you used back in the kit. “I'm sure it'll be good by tomorrow morning. Thank you, I appreciate it, Dulzura,” he says, offering you a warm smile.

“Always,” you answer looking up at him again, reciprocating the smile. Standing up, you turn to the bed, the sight of it reminding you that Miguel can't sleep here now.

At the same time, Miguel looks at it. He stands up and approaches the bed, pulling the comforter off before he grabs a pillow. “I need to set up the couch,” he states, pulling a blanket, too.

“The couch?” Your eyebrows raise as you think about the couch and how uncomfortable it is already compared to a bed. You imagine it'd be triple the discomfort for Miguel due to his build. “That's not gonna be comfortable for you,” you say. “Have my room instead. I'll take the couch.”

“Wha— No, no, no. That's kind of you, but no way.” Miguel shakes his head, speaking firmly while holding the bedding in his arms. “I'm not letting you sleep on the couch.”

“I'll be fine. It'll be far more comfortable for me than you,” you argue.

“Dulzura, thank you, but no. I'm not taking the bed and letting you sleep on the couch. I'm a gentleman,” Miguel softly, but firmly continues to decline.

“But—” you start, trying to convince Miguel.

“Please, no buts. You sleep on the bed. I wouldn't even be able to sleep knowing you're in the living room.”

“I've slept in the living room at the penthouse before. Many times.”

“This is different, you know that,” he replies with a small smirk. “I appreciate you trying to accommodate me, but there's no way I'm doing that.”

Huffing, you follow Miguel to the living room and watch as he begins to set up his pillow. You suddenly think of something, but you're not sure Miguel will be comfortable with that idea. He might even find it inappropriate. With a sigh, you dare voice your idea. “What if — Um…” You trail off, building up the courage. “If you're comfortable with it, would you be okay with just, you know,” you continue, shrugging to downplay the offer. “We could share,” you finally say, quickly.

Miguel’s eyes widen slightly and you almost swear he clutches the blanket a little tighter. “Share… Share what?”

“You know,” you reply, gesturing to your room. “I wouldn’t mind. I’m comfortable with you because you know, you’re… You’re a gentleman,” you say, softly. “And I trust you, one hundred percent. Wholeheartedly.” Clearing your throat, you look away, afraid you’ve pushed too far with your offer, even if it’s out of kindness. “But, well… I know maybe you’re not at that level of comfort with me, which is understandable,” you quickly say, not trying to guilt Miguel into it. “Whether it’s because we — you know. Us being a man and a woman. Not that I think a man and a woman can’t lay tog—” you stop rambling and sigh. “You know what I’m trying to say. Or, because we would be, closer and we might touch, so…” you trail off again, realizing you probably look like a fool in front of Miguel with your rambling. Maybe you should’ve just kept the idea to yourself. “I understand if you don’t want to, that’s what I’m trying to say, however, if you wish to, that’s an option. It’s up to you.” You gently conclude, deciding that’s the best way to explain it. “I’ll be in the room, if you need something, or if you — You know.” You nod at Miguel. “So, yeah… Good night.”

“Thank you. Good night,” Miguel answers softly, feeling like a deer caught in headlights due to your offer to share the bed.

You walk back to your room and stand next to your bed for a few seconds, almost in a daze. For some reason, you discover that your heart is racing. You finally climb back into bed after shaking your head as an attempt to clear your mind and based on the silence that follows, you assume that Miguel has decided to sleep on the couch after all. Turning on your side, you pull the covers higher over you, preparing to go to sleep after Miguel’s bed breaking. Several minutes later, you hear Miguel’s footsteps.

“You awake?” Miguel whispers.

“Mhm. Still awake. Is everything okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, I just…” Miguel trails off. He’s not sure if you can make out his figure in the mostly dark bedroom, but he looks around shyly. “It turns out, I don’t fit on the couch.”

“Oh,” you softly respond. “Your legs?”

“Yeah, they’re hanging off the couch, so… I was wondering…”

Smiling softly, you turn on the lamp on the nightstand closest to you. You find Miguel standing near the doorway, still shirtless. “I can imagine. Do you want to bring your pillow, or are these okay?” you ask, gesturing to the free pillows on the other side of your bed, unused.

Miguel’s body relaxes, as if he was worried that your kind offer was no longer on the table. “Those should be fine, thank you.”

You nod. “Alright, then… If you need nothing else, you can — You know.”

“Right,” Miguel answers shyly, his cheeks feeling hot as he moves around the bed to the other side. With his long strides, it doesn’t take Miguel long to reach the empty side of the bed. He looks at it and then at you, noticing an equally shy expression on your face.

Noting the shyness in Miguel, you offer a warm and reassuring smile to encourage him, which seems to do the trick.

Gently pulling the covers on his side of the bed, Miguel climbs in, careful not to disturb you too much. He lays on his back before pulling the covers up again. Once settled, he turns to face you, giving you a small smile. “Thank you, and I’m sorry if this is an inconvenience. Please… Don’t hesitate to tell me if I make you uncomfortable,” Miguel gently says. “I'll get off the bed, no questions asked.”

You chuckle softly. “You’re forgetting I’m the one that offered and also what I told you. I trust you,” you murmur.

“I trust you, too,” Miguel whispers. “I just… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in the aspect that you mentioned earlier.” He looks away for a few seconds. “In that you’re a woman and I’m a man, but also because you’re like me,” he says, turning to look back at you with a sheepish smile. “We’re not used to sharing a bed. I don’t want to disturb your sleep and rest because you don’t have the bed all to yourself.”

“I’ll be perfectly fine,” you answer with amusement. “But, I appreciate your concern for my beauty sleep.”

“Not that you need it,” Miguel answers without thinking, still wearing that sheepish smile.

You hum, your cheeks feeling warm suddenly. “Oh, thank you,” you whisper, looking away.

Of course, Miguel notices your shy reaction to his words, inspiring a blooming warmth and fuzzy feeling in his chest. “Always,” Miguel whispers, still grinning.

You clear your throat and pull the covers slightly higher to hide your face. “Good night, Migs,” you whisper, turning off the nightstand lamp.

“Buenas noches, Dulzura [good night],” Miguel murmurs, still watching you. “Dulces sueños [sweet dreams].” Miguel turns away and closes his eyes, laying next to you.

Trying to fall asleep, thoughts of your current position comes to mind for the two of you. Is this strange? You’ve both laid next to each other before, even shared a blanket and pillows, but that was different. All those times, it’s been on the living room floor, not a bed, and for some reason, the bed makes it more… Intimate.

It's not strange, right? Best friends have sleepovers and share a bed all the time.

Rolling to your other side, facing away from Miguel, you decide it’s normal. It’s totally normal… Except, the last time you shared a bed was with Peter, your Peter, and that was years ago. The thing is, you don’t find it uncomfortable, even if he’s a man and you’re a woman. Instead, you find Miguel’s presence next to you new, yet insanely pleasant. His body warmth seems to call to you, to move closer and take a dip in it. You close your eyes and try to ignore it, certain that you’re simply immensely exhausted from the fun day you both had and now having strange thoughts.

Next to you, Miguel opens his eyes and stares into the darkness. There’s some distance between you two and yet, the combination of your personal hygiene items and your very own scent embrace him, like a blanket of constellations welcoming him home. He suddenly remembers that he left your sweatshirt in the bedroom and realizes that if he had stayed in the living room, he would’ve already gone back to retrieve it, but being here with you now, within hand’s reach, he has no need for it since he's next to you, his sleep remedy.

Minutes later, Miguel hears your breathing slow down, signaling your slumber and promising his to come. Focusing on the gentle sound, Miguel rolls on his side, facing your back. Despite the darkness, he can make out your figure, so close, yet with a respectful distance still in place. Once more, Miguel’s fingers flex; close, open, close, open. They itch, to reach and touch.

Miguel slightly shakes his head, ignoring the strange need. He closes his eyes and focuses on your breathing again, finding it easy to find sleep, as always, with you near him.

-♡-

When Miguel wakes up, he’s immediately aware of a pleasant presence next to him. It’s soft, warm, and their scent — Miguel wants nothing more than to bury his face into them and further inhale that lovely essence. Still half asleep and with his eyes closed, Miguel moves closer to the presence, allowing himself to be lulled in this moment of vulnerability.

“Mmm,” Miguel hums in appreciation once the scent is closer, once the warmth feels like it’s become his own. His arm tightens around said presence; wanting it closer, closer, closer.

His eyes slowly open, needing a moment to adjust to the bits of light streaming through the windows’ blinds. With his brain barely waking up, it takes Miguel several seconds to realize: his arm is wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

As the realization dawns on him, Miguel’s arm remains around you, even when his mouth slightly parts in surprise at his own actions. Despite the shock, Miguel doesn’t remove his arm right away. He leaves it there instead and gazes at you, at your sleepy face.

Miguel drinks in the sight of you, one that’s not entirely new to him for he’s had the absolute pleasure and privilege of witnessing so many times before. Still, for some reason, in this moment in this little cabin in the middle of a forest with snow all around, the sight feels different. There’s your eyelashes and the way they brush against the top of your cheeks, your lips, the peaceful and almost innocent-like look on your face, and how utterly and unquestionably endearing, lovely, and beautiful you look.

Miguel continues to observe you, almost in a trance, even as you stir. He watches you exhale softly, snuggling further into the pillows before going still again.

It’s then that it dawns on Miguel that he ought to remove his arm from you. It’s not appropriate, is it? He’s a gentleman. He was raised to be one, and so, Miguel reluctantly removes his arm from you, instantly missing everything about it from the softness to the warmth of your body.

As if sensing the absence of his touch, you stir again and this time, Miguel can tell you’ll be waking up. You hum softly, eyes fluttering before they focus on the man next to you. “Miguel,” you murmur sleepily. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Dulzura,” Miguel murmurs. “Did you sleep well?” He asks, wondering if he disturbed your sleep at some point during the night.

“Mmm, yes. I did,” you answer, covering your mouth to yawn. “I slept very well.”

“That’s a relief,” Miguel says. “I was worried I… I don’t know. Kicked you in my sleep, or something.”

That makes you snort softly. “If you had, I wouldn’t be in bed right now. Probably.”

“Not funny,” Miguel responds in a slightly playful way, yet he’s not amused with the idea of you being hurt, especially by him.

“There was no kicking, or anything,” you assure him.

Except Miguel did have his arm around you when he woke up, but you’re not aware of that innocent fact.

Remembering that, Miguel clears his throat. “… I need to tell you something,” he says, sitting up to give you space.

“Oh… Is something wrong?” you ask, worried you possibly did something to offend him during your sleep. Your brain quickly goes through the worst scenarios, like you getting too close to him, or saying something inappropriate.

“Not exactly? It’s something I did,” Miguel continues, watching you sit up as well. “I just want to be honest.”

You nod, clasping your hands together and waiting.

“I didn’t kick you,” Miguel starts. “But… When I woke up, I had my arm — around you — around your waist,” Miguel confesses, his cheeks red. He curls his fingers around the bedding, waiting for your reaction and finding surprise, but no negative emotion.

“It was?” you ask softly, thinking. Somewhere during the night, you vividly remember feeling the weight of it, yet you were more asleep than anything. “I felt it during the night.” You announce quietly, trying to recall the short blurry memory.

Miguel’s eyebrows shoot up. That means he held you for far longer than he thought. “I’m sorry,” Miguel states a few seconds after recovering from the news. “I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what got to me.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “You don’t have to apologize. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Really. In fact,” you pause, looking away out of embarrassment and a bit of shame. “I may have… Touched your arm, too.”

“I don’t mind,” Miguel quickly admits because he recognizes your emotions and he doesn’t want you to feel like that. Besides, the truth is that he doesn't mind one bit that you touched him. In fact, he hasn’t minded your touch on previous occasions when physical contact has been needed or has happened out of spontaneity. “It's the truth. And it's only expected.” Miguel continues, reassuring you so you stop feeling negatively when it was him who clearly initiated physical contact during his sleep. “I did have my arm around you, so, it's only expected you would touch it. And there's no reason to be… Embarrassed about it,” he gently adds, giving you a warm and soft smile when you look at him again.

You smile back and nod, slowly feeling less embarrassed about it. “I’m glad you don’t feel upset,” you reply, unclasping your hands.

“Not in the slightest,” Miguel answers reassuringly. “And you…?” Miguel asks, just to be certain.

“No, not at all,” you reply. “Not at all.” You glance at the windows, noticing the sun’s rays. “We should get ready for the day. We’re looking after Mayday today.”

“Right,” Miguel answers, remembering. “I almost forgot.” He sighs softly, feeling good about being honest with you regarding what happened and relieved that you both handled it so well. With the day ahead of you two, Miguel decides to move on from the moment for now and start the day by leaning back to stretch.

Next to him, your gaze moves over to Miguel, landing on his chest before it dips to his abdomen. It’s impossible not to notice the way his body moves, or how the sunlight caresses his bare skin. You look away, remembering it’s incredibly rude to stare, just as Miguel climbs out of bed. You find yourself staring again as he stretches once more, his back popping and back muscles rippling.

Again, you look away and finally get out of bed to start the day. The two of you quickly make the bed before you head into your respective bathrooms to get ready.

An hour later, both Miguel and you find yourselves in Mary Jane and Peter’s home.

“We seriously cannot thank you enough,” Peter B. says as he carefully hands Mayday’s backpack to Miguel since you’re already holding his daughter’s hand. “Mary Jane and I appreciate it so much.” He says, exhaustion visible on his face.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Miguel asks, voicing your own thoughts.

“No, no. We’re good, thank you. You offering to take Mayday with you for the day, having her have a day out means so much to us. Mary Jane and I have hardly left the house, which means so has little Mayday,” Peter answers. “Mary Jane is still recovering and with it being cold, we don’t want to take Benjamin out either. I’ve gone out to get groceries and the such to distract Mayday a little, but that’s nothing compared to our routine from before. Today will make her so happy.”

You offer him a smile, gently patting his shoulder. “We’re happy to help, and if you need something else, please don’t hesitate to let us know.”

“Thank you,” Peter answers, smiling despite his exhaustion. “Thank you so much. If you guys need anything or have questions, or need to bring Mayday back earlier, please don’t hesitate either. We’ll understand.”

“We’ll return at the agreed time, don’t worry. She’s safe with us. You guys do what you need to do with little Benjamin, and take care of Mary Jane. If she needs medical attention or support, the infirmary is always open,” Miguel states, reminding Peter of that resource.

“Thank you, thank you,” Peter sighs. “It means a lot. We’ll keep it in mind, if necessary.”

“Say bye to your dad, Mayday! You’ll be back in a few hours,” you say, still holding Mayday.

“Bye, daddy!” Mayday eagerly says, waving bye.

“Bye, sweetheart. I’ll see you in a little bit,” Peter says with a smile, walking closer to gently pinch her cheek. “Be a good girl for uncle Miggle and aunt Y/N,” he adds, earning himself a scoff from Miguel at the silly nickname Mayday gave him some time ago.

“Alright, we’re heading out,” Miguel says. “Rest as much as you can, Peter.”

“Thanks, pal. I’ll try. Have fun, guys. Be safe, please!” Peter says, watching you leave with his daughter for the day.

Back to your vacation spot, the three of you step out of the portal and into the cold. You immediately feel Mayday shiver at the change of temperature, so you hold her closer and adjust her puffy jacket to keep her warm. “Gotta keep you warm,” you murmur as you move on to fix her beanie.

“It might be too cold for her,” Miguel says, slinging the backpack on one of his shoulders and stepping closer to help.

“She did shiver just now, so I’m adjusting her clothes to make sure she’s as warm as possible, right, Mayday?” you murmur softly, unable to stop yourself from being so affectionate with her. “Alright, all warm for now.”

“First activity for the day?” Miguel asks to confirm, still carrying the backpack.

“We have Mayday, so, yes,” you reply with a chuckle. “Let’s just hope she likes what we’ve planned for her today.”

Miguel laughs softly as you both begin to walk over the snow. “I’m sure we can figure something out if the day’s activities are not to her taste.”

With another chuckle, you both continue to walk to your destination. All the while, Mayday looks around with excitement, even though it’s just a bunch of snow and trees all around for several minutes until the three of you reach the small and cute village. The three of you look around for a moment to take in the village, realizing it’s one of those villages that goes over the top with Christmas decorations everywhere.

“It’s cute,” you state as you near your destination by following signs.

“Mhm, it reminds me of those movies my mom used to watch when Gabriel and I were kids,” Miguel answers. “Some of which are so… Predictable, but still fun to watch. I guess.”

You snort softly. “What? You don’t like those movies?”

Miguel shrugs as you both keep walking. He looks over at you and then at Mayday, who is too busy looking at everything to pay either of you attention. He can’t blame her, though, he supposes this is like a kid’s dream. For a few seconds, he thinks of his little Gabby and how she would’ve loved today’s activities. With an exhale, Miguel gently pulls himself back to the present after silently sending his child an ‘I love you’. “I just think… Some of them are both predictable and problematic, so I can’t watch them without thinking about that.”

“Do go on,” you press. “Please?”

Miguel smiles. “Well, when I say that, I’m talking about those movies where there’s a successful character in the city. Typically, it’s a woman. She has a partner and it all seems to be going well in her life. For example, she has a big work promotion coming up because she’s been killing it in her career through hard work and she has all these nice things, like a luxurious car and apartment, but then, she goes back to where she came from for whatever reason. Some far away place from the city that she left a few years ago and hasn’t visited in x number of years because she’s been busy, and this is sometimes right after discovering that her boyfriend has been cheating on her,” Miguel says, definitely getting into it.

Now, with her not visiting her parents… I’d be hurt if my kid hadn’t visited in so long, but then again, the parents could also travel to her.” Miguel continues with furrowed eyebrows. “Actually, I had never thought about that. Everybody always judges the person who went away, but the parents could also visit… Hm. Well, anyway.” Miguel shakes his head, trying to focus and not ramble. “She goes back to some small town where it looks like Santa Claus threw up all over the place. Like… Here. Anyway, she gets judged left and right by people that knew her growing up. You know, giving her backhanded compliments. Like, ‘oh, I hear you’re getting a promotion, but your boyfriend just cheated on you, so how successful are you really, then?’ They have that kind of attitude.”

You nod, paying attention and trying not to grin too hard at how passionate Miguel seems about this topic.

“And it’s like, wait, what does that have to do with her romantic life? It’s like they’re saying her boyfriend cheated on her because she’s ‘too’ successful. It’s so annoying. What message is it sending to women and young girls? Not a good one, for sure,” Miguel says shaking his head in disapproval. “Well, she’s there in town and then,” Miguel says with an exasperated sigh. “She runs into her previous boyfriend, probably high school sweetheart, who she loved so much, but when she brought up the idea of moving to the city years prior, he didn’t support it because he’s a small town man. He imagined spending his entire life in that place, which is fine, but the female protagonist didn’t want that life. She wanted something different, so they ended up breaking up because of the woman’s decision to pursue their dreams.”

“As they should,” you add.

“Exactly. As they should,” Miguel affirms. “But then, they run into each other in the present and it’s painfully awkward because they haven’t seen each other since the breakup and old wounds are open. Despite the woman trying to keep her distance, fate, or perhaps due to the townspeople who meddle too much, she can’t seem to escape the man and they’re stuck in this forced proximity for half the movie, and you can tell the guy is still upset over the girl’s decision. Anyway, it ends with the woman apparently ‘realizing’ she’s not happy in the city, never has been. And she decides, just from spending like three days in her old town, that she wants to move back and take on the family business she didn’t initially want to be a part of, and resigning from her job. Oh, and she ends up with the old boyfriend. The end,” Miguel finishes. “It’s repeated so much. How about we make the man realize he’s not happy in his town like he thought he would, and is the one who leaves to go live in the city with his successful partner? I’d like to see that instead.”

“You know… You’re right. I don’t think I’ve watched a movie like that, now that you mention it. There should be one like that,” you answer.

“That’s why I don’t like those especially. The other ones, they’re good,” Miguel says with a chuckle. “Oh, look. We’re here.” Miguel gestures ahead, directing your attention.

You grin at the sight and point for Mayday to look. “Look, Mayday! Over there.”

Expectantly, Miguel and you wait for Mayday’s reaction to the first activity of the day: petting and feeding reindeer. Thankfully, her reaction doesn’t disappoint.

“Reindeer! Santa Claus’s sleigh,” she says grinning from ear to ear.

“Yes, mija [my daughter]. Those are Santa Claus’s reindeer,” Miguel replies with a small smile. “Want to pet them?”

“Yes! Can I pet the reindeer? Please?”

“You may, but you must be gentle, okay?” Miguel answers, establishing that boundary immediately for both her safety and the animals’.

You watch in awe, always surprised to see Miguel fall into that fatherly energy so effortlessly, further convincing you that Miguel was meant to be a father in this life.

“Come on,” Miguel says, smiling.

After paying and listening to the instructions, the three of you are in front of reindeer with other people. A worker provides information about them, from how fast they can run and how they differentiate from other deer species along with other interesting information.

With glee, Mayday watches everything from some of the reindeer peacefully eating to others walking, but her favorite part seems to be when she has the opportunity to pet and give snacks to one.

“It’s so fluffy,” she says, gently petting the animal’s head. “Like a dog.”

Miguel and you turn to look at each other, smiling.

“And so cute,” you state, carefully petting the gorgeous reindeer.

“Fluffy and cute,” Miguel murmurs, petting it himself after a few seconds of debating it. He gently pats it with a sigh, once again thinking about Gabby and how she would’ve enjoyed this. Knowing her, Gabby would’ve asked for a book about reindeer to learn more about them afterwards.

“Aww,” you coo softly when you see the reindeer close their eyes and nudge their head into Miguel’s hand, apparently enjoying the petting. “Seems like they like you. Probably because of your warmth.”

“My warmth?” Miguel questions, looking over at you.

“Yeah,” you answer with a shrug as you gently pet the side of the reindeer’s face. “You’re naturally warm. I’m sure they find your warmth… Nice.” Nice? You almost facepalm and wonder why you’re even thinking about Miguel’s body warmth. Feeling embarrassed, you change the subject and gesture to a calf. “Look, a baby reindeer,” you say, successfully shifting the attention, though Miguel glances at you even after the fact.

After another half an hour, the three of you leave with Mayday, who happily carries a reindeer plushie that Miguel bought her on the way out. Together, you walk around the village to see all the decorations and the more you walk, the more it feels like you’re all in a Christmas movie set.

“We’re only missing the love interests,” you joke when Miguel mentions that, too.

“And the meddling friend group who must be running around here somewhere,” Miguel answers with a chuckle. “How about some brunch?” Miguel asks when the scent of food from a diner reaches you.

“Actually… I could eat something right now. What about you, Mayday? Are you hungry?”

“Yes, I’m hungry. Can I have waffles?”

Miguel and you laugh quietly at the innocent question.

“We’ll see if they sell some in there, alright? I’m sure they do,” you assure Mayday, taking her hand again to head inside.

Warmth and the delicious scent of diner food immediately welcomes the three of you when you step inside. Looking around for an empty booth, Miguel and you spot a few spider people neither of you were expecting to see here, in this exact universe and location.

“I didn't know other people were coming,” you say once the three of you are sitting at the booth, including Mayday’s plushie by Miguel's side.

“I didn't either,” Miguel answers, glancing at the group and quickly identifying them.

At the same time, Ben Reilly, Malala Windsor, Max Borne, Anya Corazón, and another member you only know as Spider-Canada, turn to look at the three of you.

Making eye contact with them, Miguel and you nod as a form of greeting, receiving nods and hand waves, before looking over the menu and ordering. Thankfully for Mayday, the diner sells waffles, so Miguel orders her some along with a cup of milk.

Once you're all done eating, you take Mayday to the restroom again to wash her hands, only to run into Ben when you walk out.

“Y/N,” Ben starts, looking surprised to have run into you. “How are you doing?” he asks, offering a smile.

“Hey, I'm doing great. We've been enjoying walking around the village. You?” You ask, holding Mayday’s hand, who looks up at Ben with curious eyes.

“Good. I'm doing good. We've also been sightseeing.” Ben answers while scratching his neck, pink dusting his cheeks as he stares at you before turning to look at the kid. He offers an awkward smile to Mayday before looking back at you. “You and Miguel babysitting for Peter?”

“Yes. We offered since Mary Jane and Peter just had — Their baby,” you reply, remembering that their newborn is named Benjamin, just like Ben. You suddenly wonder how Ben feels about that and the fact that Peter looks so similar to him. “So, Miguel and I figured that we could look after Mayday for the day, and give her a fun day here.”

“That’s kind of you and Miguel. I’m sure Peter and his wife appreciate the gesture, and the little kid, too,” Ben states. “Where are you guys staying?”

“We’re staying in a cabin. It’s a few minutes from the village by foot,” you answer. “All my friends rented cabins there, too, so we’re all within walking distance.”

“Oh, you’re not all staying in the same cabin?”

“No, we’re staying in different cabins. Miguel and I are staying in one, and the rest of my friends are in two others.”

“Oh, you and Miguel are in one,” Ben repeats slowly, briefly glancing in Miguel’s direction, who is looking the other way, before turning to look back at you. “Well… I hope that you’re enjoying the cabin.”

“We are, thank you. It’s so cozy. Where are you and your friends staying at?”

“The inn. It’s just down the street,” Ben explains. “It’s a nice place. Cozy.”

You smile, “I can imagine. This place seems so magical. I’m certain that every building and crevice of this village is cozy and welcoming.”

“Uncle Miggle,” Mayday says next to you. “He’s waiting on us. Can we go?”

“We’re going, Mayday,” you answer before turning your attention to Ben. “Well, we’ll see you around, Ben. I hope you and your friends continue to enjoy the holiday trip.”

“Thank you, Y/N. You, too,” Ben replies, smiling again. “See you at work after Christmas!”

“See you!” You reply before Mayday and you both walk past Ben to return to Miguel. “We’re back,” you say once you reach Miguel.

“You guys ready to go?” Miguel asks.

“Yes. Let’s go ahead and pay.”

“I’ve already paid, don’t worry about it, Dulzura,” Miguel answers with a small grin, standing up. He quickly puts on his coat and helps Mayday with hers while you slip on your own.

In no time, the three of you exit the diner only for you to realize that Mayday isn’t wearing her beanie. “Wait, her beanie is missing. It must have fallen off the booth.”

“I’ll go get it,” Miguel states, but you shake your head.

“It’s alright. I’ll go get it. Be right back,” you announce, turning on your heel and walking back the short distance to the diner. Inside, you quickly return to your booth and find the beanie hanging from one side, where Mayday was sitting. You pick it up and head back, running into Ben right at the door while his friends are off to the side, looking at a wall with decorations.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m alright. Are you okay?” Ben asks, looking you up and down, as if to ensure you’re okay.

“Yep, I’m okay. Sorry, I guess I was moving too fast, I didn’t see you there,” you answer with a chuckle as Ben opens the door for you, allowing you to exit first. As you step out, you hear him chuckle, too.

“It’s alright. It happens sometimes,” he says behind you before he finds himself next to you with a small grin, right in front of the diner’s door. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, no worries,” you answer, reassuringly. “It was more the surprise of running into someone.”

It’s Ben’s chuckling that captures Miguel’s attention while he holds Mayday’s hand for her safety. He turns around when he hears it, finding you next to Ben. For some reason, he’s unable to look away from the interaction, making it the sole reason why Miguel even notices Ben looking up for a single second. Curious, Miguel’s gaze travels upwards, only to find a mistletoe hanging over the diner’s doorway, right above the two of you.

Miguel’s eyes quickly dart back to Ben, who is looking at you once more, and sees an idea form in his head — a light bulb go on.

An idea has formed in Ben’s head and it leaves Miguel frozen in place for a second, just a mere second. His chest fills with a heavy and distressing feeling, spreading like vines. Somewhere in his mind, Miguel is aware that he’s holding his breath, as if he’s bracing himself for something heart-shattering.

The heavy and distressing feeling continues to grow within Miguel, much like the idea in Ben’s head. Miguel’s suspicions are confirmed, or at least he thinks so, when he sees the other Spider-Man reach for your arm.

It’s instinct — pure instinct from somewhere within Miguel — that leads to his free hand shooting out. In the blink of an eye, a string of neon red web travels from him to you, and wraps itself around your torso. Still led by instinct, Miguel tugs you towards him and away from Ben, who was just milliseconds from touching your arm.

One second, you’re next to Ben and the next, you’re flying across the short distance and in front of Miguel, who carefully catches you by your arms, holding you steady.

“Miguel,” you breathe out, shocked. “What happened?”

“I —” Miguel starts, desperately trying to think of a reason for his actions when he can’t even begin to decipher why he’s done what he did. He stares at you, his eyebrows furrowed and chest heaving while he continues to gently hold you by your arms. Miguel searches his brain for an answer. Why did he do that? Why? “I — I can explain,” Miguel says, even though he has no explanation.

“Icicles!” Mayday exclaims next to the two of you.

Miguel looks up, finding icicles over the doorway you were just under, which he hadn’t noticed before.

“Icicles,” Miguel repeats, clearing his throat as he looks back at you, still holding you by your arms. “It looked like one was about to break off and fall on you.”

You look behind you with wide eyes, confirming that there are icicles. “I didn’t notice them,” you confess. “Thank you. Hey, Ben! Watch out for the icicles!” you call out to Ben, who for some reason, looks displeased. Maybe it’s the cold, or the news of icicles, you think to yourself.

“Thanks for the warning!” he calls back, looking at Miguel for a few seconds with that same look of displeasure. He waves bye before he’s joined by his friends.

Miguel sighs, slowly releasing your arms and stepping back. The sinking and heavy feeling in his chest slowly dissipates, and seeing Ben walk away from the diner with his friends, heading in the opposite direction of where you all should be heading next, helps even more.

“Whew, thank goodness you noticed. We should probably tell the owners about it,” you say, looking back at the diner, completely unaware of what just transpired.

“Yeah,” Miguel answers, feeling like he can breath normally again with the distance between Reilly and you growing. “I’ll go tell them. You stay here with Mayday. I’ll be right back, okay?” Miguel says, not wanting you or Mayday to walk past the icicles again.

“Alright, just be careful, please,” you answer softly, a hint of worry on your face.

“I will, don’t worry. I’ll be right back,” Miguel responds before he heads back to the diner to notify someone about the icicles situation. Still feeling off by what just happened, Miguel shortly returns to you and Mayday. “I told one of the workers, so that should take care of it,” Miguel announces. “Should we head back to the cabin, or would you like to go somewhere else?”

“I think with what almost happened, I’d like to go back to the cabin,” you truthfully answer with a small smile. “Besides, we have some fun activities to do with Mayday there.”

“True,” Miguel answers. “Let’s head back, then.” Miguel sighs to himself as you all begin to walk, trying to figure out the mess in his head, but he can’t make anything out of it.

He did a good thing, right?

Miguel subtly glances at you as he asks himself that. What he did was a good thing, or at least Miguel thinks so. Ben was going to try and kiss you because of the mistletoe tradition. There’s no doubt about that in Miguel’s mind; it was obvious and he could smell it from a mile away. And you… Miguel steals a glance at you again just as you tell Mayday something.

You were so oblivious to it, to Ben’s intentions. Miguel doesn’t know how Ben was going to do it. Was he going to tell you about the mistletoe and hint for a kiss, or hope that you offered one instead? Or, was he going to steal a kiss from you without your consent? The simple idea of Ben kissing you without your consent, especially when you don’t carry yourself like that, upsets Miguel. Just yesterday, you were talking about respecting everyone when it comes to the tradition and today, Ben was likely going to disrespect you and your boundaries.

Miguel huffs to himself as you near your cabin, deciding that his actions are justified. He prevented someone from disrespecting you, even if it was only going to be a harmless kiss because of some Christmas tradition. Or at least, that’s what Miguel tells himself.

As the cabin comes into view, Miguel continues to think about the situation and begins to wonder if Ben’s intentions were truly harmless. Didn’t you say months ago that Ben wanted to tell you something, only for it to be about an anomaly report when Ben knows how to make them? That was strange to Miguel back then, how Reilly had only sought your help for something as basic as a report.

And wasn’t there that time at the training sector when Ben only greeted you and completely ignored him despite walking next to you? It was as if Miguel, a man nearly seven feet tall, wasn’t even there. Then, that same day at the training sector, he seemed to be doing a little too much in Miguel’s opinion. It almost seemed like Reilly was trying to impress someone, but doing a horrible job at it — not that Miguel would know any better, but still.

Miguel’s thoughts abruptly halt when he notices you duck before a snowball flies by. He immediately forgets about Ben and turns to find the culprit for the snowball, realizing you sensed it coming.

“Are you okay, Dulzura?” he asks, turning to face you again when he finds no one, a gentle look on his face just for you.

“I’m alright,” you answer, turning around. “I think someone’s playing a trick on us.”

“I think so, too,” Miguel answers, looking at the ground because he has an idea. He crouches and grabs snow before he molds it into a snowball with his gloved hands. “I think I know who threw that one.”

“Right there,” you murmur, noticing footprints coming from an invisible source on the snow. “On your right,” you whisper before another snowball flies your way. You’re quick to dodge it and Miguel is even quicker in throwing his own snowball. It hits something, or rather someone, and when it makes impact, it reveals none other than Miles.

“Attack!” he says, crouching to form snowballs and inciting the rest of the spider gang to come out from behind trees.

Seeing multiple snowballs coming your way, you quickly grab Mayday, who of course, finds the situation hilarious.

“Snow attack!” she yells, still carrying her reindeer.

“I need you to hold on to me, Mayday, okay?” you instruct with a grin. “We’re being attacked.”

“Are we going to win?” she asks as Miguel walks past you, preventing a snowball from hitting you and Mayday and throwing four back in retaliation.

“That’s the plan,” you answer. “Miguel, you, and I must work as a team.”

“And Binx!” she answers, showing you her reindeer.

“And Binx,” you add, wondering at what point did Mayday name the reindeer as you dodge another snowball from Hobie. You quickly collect snow and shape it into balls, launching one after another to different people.

Snowballs fly across the plot of land, some bigger and faster than others. Laughter and comments about winning and defeating fill the air. The snowball fight goes on for some time until Hobie, Gwen, and Pav begin to target you specifically. You run around, swinging from trees to dodge their relentless attack, which only stops when Miguel begins to target them back with much larger and stronger throws, knocking them down.

You laugh to yourself and swing back to Miguel, helping him form more snowballs to defeat the group. It finally concludes with Spider-Ham waving a white flag for surrender.

“Victory!” Mayday exclaims, but not before throwing one last snowball at Spider-Ham’s face.

“Alright, we give up!” Miles states, standing up and brushing off snow from his jacket. “I told you guys not to target Y/N too much,” he continues, looking at the group. “I knew el tío was going to go full on protective mode [the uncle].”

“I think you mean he was going to defend his team,” you clarify, or at least think so, with a small smile as you walk past him. “And I so happened to be in his team.”

“I don’t think I can handle this anymore,” you hear Pav say behind you. “This is like reading a nearly 400K torturous slow burn fanfic on Our Own Archive with the ‘idiots in love’ tag.”

“That’s what it’s called in your universe?” Margo asks. “But, so true.”

“Ooh, can we build a snowman? Please, please?” Mayday asks, tugging your arm and looking up at you with such puppy eyes you forget to ask Pav why he brought up fanfiction.

You glance at Miguel, who shrugs, as if saying ‘why not?’

“Why don’t we build it in front of the cabin?” you suggest.

“Yippie, okay!” With that, Mayday runs ahead of you and picks a spot to begin rolling snow.

“It’s been a hot minute since I’ve built a snowman,” you comment as you both watch Mayday kneel on the ground with her reindeer next to her whilst telling it how to make a snowman.

“Yeah, it’s a been… Years for me, too. I think since I was like fifteen, or so, with Gabriel,” Miguel replies with a fond smile. “Come on. Mayday is going to teach us how to build a snowman, along with her reindeer.”

“Binx,” you say.

“When did they get a name?” Miguel asks. “I missed that development.”

“Somewhere after the reindeer place and before the snowball fight,” you reply with an amused smile. “I found out about it just before the action started.”

“I see. Kids,” Miguel answers with a smile. He turns around to look at the others. “Should we invite them for the baking?”

“I was thinking about that. Maybe some of them will be up for it, if they don’t have plans already. It’s worth asking.”

“Uncle Miggle, aunt Dulz,” Mayday calls.

“Dulz…?” you repeat.

“She’s trying to call you Dulzura,” Miguel states with a smile. “Seems like you have your very own nickname from her, too, hm?” he teases.

“Nothing beats Miggle, though,” you tease back, making Miguel chuckle.

“It’s a noble nickname,” Miguel answers before you reach Mayday. “What is it, mija [my daughter]?”

“I need help,” Mayday replies. “We need big, big snowman.”

Together, Miguel and you help Mayday build a big snowman while your friends build their own things.

“We need another one!” Mayday declares when you've completed the first snowman. “Short!”

“Like you?” You ask, trying to figure out how short.

“No, like you!” Mayday replies with a giggle as she begins to collect snow. And so, a second snowman is built before Mayday requests an even shorter snowman. Of course, Miguel and you oblige.

“Yay!” Mayday happily hugs the tallest snowman. “Uncle Miggle!” She then moves to the second tallest snowman. “Aunt Dulz!”

“Oh, that's supposed to be me” you say amused as Mayday hugs your snowwoman. “Is this you?” you ask, gesturing to the shortest snow person.

“Nope. It's my friend.”

“Your friend? Oh, what's their name?” Miguel asks, equally curious like you.

“Gabby!” Mayday answers with glee.

“Oh,” Miguel softly responds, his chest tightening at the mention of Gabriella by Mayday. It's the first time she’s ever said anything about Gabby and to be honest, Miguel didn't expect her to until much later. He expected that she'd eventually ask who the little girl in the picture frames at the penthouse is on a random day while you both babysat her, not on this winter getaway.

“Miguel,” you murmur softly, gaze softening at the mention of Gabby. “Are you okay?”

“Ye-Yes.” Miguel nods, trying to recover.

“She likes the snow!” Mayday announces before running to pick up more snow with Binx.

“She did,” Miguel breathes out. “She liked the snow. How did she know?”

“Kids…” You trail off, not knowing how Mayday knew of that fact. “They're far more sensitive than we are, and far more aware than we give them credit for.”

Nodding, Miguel watches Mayday continue to play in the snow with the others. After a minute or two, he tries to push the thought away for the remainder of the time in an attempt to enjoy himself and keep the mood light. He watches with a smile as the group has fun and eventually joins you in making snow angels just outside your shared cabin.

Gabby comes to mind yet again, however, when you’re all in the cabin’s kitchen baking cookies. Miguel was concentrated on the task at hand, but when he gazes at you and notes how patient and tender you’re being with Mayday as you teach her how to bake, Miguel can’t help but think about his daughter and how eager she would’ve been to bake with you. He imagines you would’ve been so sweet and patient with her, just the way you are with Mayday.

After baking and decorating cookies, everyone gathers in the living room to enjoy them and relax with the Christmas tree in sight.

All too soon, Miguel and you cook dinner while those who stay to dine with you entertain Mayday in the living room with coloring books. Once dinner is over and the kitchen is cleaned, you put on a Christmas movie while Miguel gathers the snacks, starting the final fun activity for Mayday. Of course, your friends were invited to stay and so they did, which results in a full living room with some people sitting on the floor.

Miguel and you, however, sit on the same couch next to each other and share snacks while the movie plays. You eventually note, close to the end, that Mayday has fallen asleep with Binx close to her chest, exhausted from the day out. A few minutes later, the credits begin to roll and one by one, your friends bid their goodbyes and wish you both a Merry Christmas before returning to their cabins.

“Should we put on another movie? We still have about half an hour before we drop off Mayday,” you say once it’s just the three of you.

“I’m personally… In the mood for Christmas movies, so I’d be happy to watch one more,” Miguel answers with a grin.

“Me, too! Alright, let’s see,” you say, looking to see what options there are. “This one sounds interesting. It says —” you begin but stop when you feel something small fall on you. “What was that?”

“Hm?” Miguel moves to see what fell on you before he feels something light hit his shoulder, too.

You both shift over and find small berries — mistletoe berries, to be exact.

“Berries…?” you say softly before you both look up in confusion only to find mistletoe hanging from the ceiling thanks to spider web and tied with a pretty satin red bow. “I… That wasn’t there before, was it?” you ask, slowly looking at Miguel.

“I think I would’ve noticed it,” Miguel answers. “But, I also didn’t see any of our friends do that, so…” Miguel looks at you, trailing off for a few seconds. “I have no idea how it got there.”

Meeting Miguel’s gaze, you nod in the dimly lit room. You suddenly become aware of the crackling flames from the fireplace and the scent of baking still present. “I don’t know either,” you answer softly, noticing Miguel’s crimson eyes and how they seem to shine because of the flames. You swallow softly, slowly smiling at him out of — something. Amusement? Shyness? Disbelief that you’re both under mistletoe again? A mixture of everything? You don’t know.

Gently, Miguel smiles, too. His gaze sweeps over your face, locking every detail into his memory the way you’d try to memorize every feature about a touching and beautiful work of art; how the fire’s flames cast light on your face, caressing you; the way your eyelashes frame your eyes; and how your eyes look at him with a glimmer in them.

Still smiling at each other, you both chuckle quietly.

“Well…” Miguel starts. “There’s mistletoe.”

“Again,” you say, exhaling softly.

“Again,” Miguel confirms, remembering you’ve now found yourselves under mistletoe twice. He’s also, unwillingly, reminded of that moment with Reilly earlier. Out of instinct, his hand closes into a fist just thinking about it, but he pushes the memory aside, not wanting that bad memory to taint this lighthearted moment.

“It’s everywhere,” you continue, amused, still staring at Miguel.

“It seems so,” he answers, gazing at you.

A few seconds pass and you’re both still staring at each other, unable to look away. Maybe it’s exhaustion, or something else, but you both begin to lean closer without realizing it. Your heads gradually move closer and closer, completely unaware of how the distance is growing shorter and shorter with every breath from your lungs. In that moment, even the crackling from the fireplace ceases and all you can both focus on is each other, almost in a trance.

“Hey, guys!”

Startled, Miguel and you turn to the front door, now fully open thanks to Peter, who has his arms high in the air to make an entrance. He freezes at the sight, eyes widen as Miguel and you stand up from the couch.

“Peter!” you start. “I thought we were dropping Mayday for you?”

“Ah…” Peter trails off, looking between you and Miguel, who is suddenly busy folding a blanket. “Yes, but Mary Jane and I literally decided, like two minutes ago, that it’d be better for me to pick her up since you guys have done so much for us today. I’m sorry if I startled you, that wasn’t my intention.” Peter says before he spots the mistletoe, it adding even more fuel to his thoughts. “Uh… Seems like I should’ve messaged you before showing up?”

“No, it’s okay,” Miguel says, now picking up an empty bowl that had popcorn earlier. “Some of the spider group, who stayed for dinner and a movie, just left.”

“Yeah, you missed them by like thirty seconds or so,” you add.

“Literally, like thirty seconds,” Miguel confirms, for some reason having the need to emphasize that you were both in company of others up until now. “We just finished watching the movie.”

“And Mayday has been asleep for about fifteen minutes or so. She’s exhausted form the day,” you continue.

“Uhuh, I can imagine,” Peter replies, slowly grinning. “I bet you guys had an exhausting yet fun day together.”

“We tried to. I think we succeeded,” you reply with a smile, feeling like you’re explaining yourself when there’s no reason to. Right?

“I would say so,” Miguel adds, coming to stand next to you. “By the way, you have a new family member besides Benjamin.”

“Oh?” Peter inquires simply.

“Binx,” you say, gesturing to the stuffed animal Mayday is still holding on to while sleeping.

“You guys bought her a reindeer plushie?”

“Miguel,” you clarify.

“Dulzura helped Mayday choose, so it was a team effort,” Miguel counters.

“Love the team work,” Peter replies with a full blown grin. “Well, I’ll go ahead and take Mayday, and let you guys rest for the remainder of the night. I imagine you’re both a bit tired after looking after a kid.” He walks past you two and approaches his daughter, picking her up effortlessly and cradling her along with Binx.

At the door, Miguel hands him Mayday’s backpack, too, finalizing the day. “You don’t need help?” Miguel asks.

“Thanks, pal, but I got it from here. You two continue on with your night,” Peter replies, stealing a glance at you and half smirking. “Enjoy the holidays. I’ll see you guys after Christmas at HQ.”

“Say hi to Mary Jane,” you state. “And again, if you guys need something — anything at all — let me know.”

“Yeah, please remember that,” Miguel says, scratching his neck. “We’re here. If we can help somehow, we’d be happy to.”

Smiling, Peter nods. “I know. Thank you, guys. We truly appreciate it. And, thank you for looking after Mayday and Mr. Binx, too.”

“It was a pleasure,” you answer with a smile.

“Any time,” Miguel replies.

“Thanks, guys! I’ll get going now. Have fun and continue to enjoy your vacation!” Peter calls out as he walks out of the cabin. “See you soon!” With his webs, he closes the door shut, leaving Miguel and you alone for the first time since this morning when you woke up in the same bed.

Alone, you both look around before the mistletoe catches your attention again.

The sight of it leaves the two of you rooted to the ground, next to each other. Moments ago, you were sitting beneath it having just learned of its existence and you were staring at each other, laughing about it. It was funny, you internally tell yourselves. Although there is the question of how it got there and by who, but as you both continue to stare at it, you discover that you don’t care to know. It’s harmless and innocent and it’s not like something happened, you tell yourselves, oblivious to that moment, where your heads were inching closer before Peter arrived.

A second later, you yawn softly out of exhaustion. “M’sorry, I guess I’m beginning to feel tired,” you start softly. “Should we quickly clean up and then head to sleep?”

Miguel nods, redirecting his attention from the mistletoe to you. “Yes, or if you wish to go to sleep already. I can clean up on my own.”

“I’m not leaving the cleaning to yourself,” you quickly answer. “We’ll get it done faster together.”

As always, the team effort goes smoothly. Miguel and you leave the living room and kitchen spotless, especially when you remember that tomorrow is your last day in the cabin.

A short while later, you walk into your bedroom donning pajamas. Rubbing hand lotion on your hands, you look up and find Miguel on the bed already. He’s leaning against the headboard while reading a book, lost in the words. Pausing a few steps in, you gaze at him respectfully, or at least you hope so anyway. Miguel’s shirtless once more, apparently not cold, and wearing sweatpants that sit at his waist.

Massaging the rest of your lotion into your skin, you look away and breathe out after seemingly holding your breath. For some reason…

At last, you approach the bed, noting that Miguel has already placed the covers in a way so you can easily slip in. You hum quietly when you’re under the same covers, finding that the bed is warm already, even though Miguel has probably only been on it for a few minutes. Regardless, you embrace the warmth and allow it to embrace you back as you get comfortable.

Next to you, Miguel uses his bookmark and closes the book before he puts it away on the nightstand. He yawns softly and looks down at you, taking note of your sleepy gaze.

“Good night, Dulzura,” he murmurs quietly to avoid startling you. “Sleep well.”

With a small and sleepy smile, you respond. “Good night, Migs. Sweet dreams.”

-♡-

Outside, the heavy snow falls off trees’ branches. Pine cones drop and decorate the ground. Somewhere, wildlife roams the beautiful land that is their home, leaving footprints of their strolls. A silence unknown to most cities is loud in this vast land; no helicopters roam above, no lousy cars speeding off, and there’s no sight or racket from bustling streets filled with beings.

There is silence, a peaceful kind, and with it, a heat.

It’s an inviting, blazing, and amicable heat. The kind you wish to bask in on a cold winter morning until noon. The kind of heat that grows from two individuals’ bodies laying so close together, it lulls you straight back to sleep.

It’s that heat Miguel and you are responsible for as you lay together under the same sheets. Your heads rest on the edge of your respective pillows; your faces merely separated by a few inches.

Slowly and comfortably, Miguel and you wake up at once. With a soft yawn here and a low murmur there, you both slowly open your sleepy eyes and simply embrace the moment. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re both very much still filled with sleep, or perhaps it’s due to something else entirely, but the two of you remain still.

Neither of you move an inch; not when you slowly realize your fingers are intertwined and that your faces are so close together, it would make people talk. Minutes pass and with each one, the more conscious you both become. You finally reach a point of awareness that makes you discover something else: the intimate tangle of your legs, with one of yours between Miguel’s.

It’s until then that it truly dawns on you; your unconscious disregard for Miguel’s physical boundaries. A second later, your eyes go wide. “Oh — Oh, I’m so sorry,” you suddenly say, speaking for the first time today. You quickly move your leg away and remove your hand from Miguel’s before scooting away. “I’m so sorry. I just realized.”

With your sudden and too soon departure from him, Miguel sits up and shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It’s alright,” he answers, his voice deep from just waking up. “People can’t help what they do while they’re sleeping,” Miguel reassures you, curling his fingers into his palm, the ones that were intertwined with yours just now. He exhales softly, feeling the loss of your warmth and touch instantly, and wishing there had been a warning to prepare himself for it.

“I — I know, but still,” you respond, covering your face with your hands because you feel hot in the face out of embarrassment and regret. “I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable.”

“Dulzura,” Miguel starts, waiting for you to lower your hands so he can see your face. “Dulzura,” he calls again, much more gentler, when you continue to hide behind your hands. “Can you look at me, please?”

Slowly, you lower your hands when you hear the gentle pleading of his voice. “Yes?”

Miguel smiles, lazily. “Don’t worry about it, please.”

“Your boundaries are —” you start.

“Fine,” Miguel gently interrupts. “I’m fine. You seem to have forgotten that my hand was also there, with yours,” he says, pausing when he admits that, feeling an extra warmth rush to his cheeks. “And, my legs were also, you know, tangled with yours, so… I think it’s safe to say, I was more than comfortable,” Miguel admits softly. “So, don’t worry on my behalf. Or, about my boundaries. Please.”

“I…” you trail off, staring at him to gauge his reaction, to see if he’s truly not upset about the unconscious physical touch. With each second, you realize he’s truly okay with it. Miguel was and is comfortable with the much more intimate touching. You nod and give him a small yet sheepish smile after a few seconds. “Alright. Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Miguel answers, smiling back. “You’re… Always so considerate. So much, that sometimes you stress yourself too much, Dulzura. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as considerate and respectful as you, you know?”

Smiling slightly, you shrug and look away. “It’s the least anyone can do, to be respectful.”

“And yet, there are some people who lack such quality, so thank you,” Miguel continues before his expression turns more serious. “But, just because I’m alright with it, doesn’t mean I expect you to.”

“Wha—What?” you ask softly, noticing the way he’s serious now when it comes to your comfort.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable at all. I know yesterday I also—” Miguel starts.

“I’m alright, too, Miguel,” you say, interrupting him now. “I was worried about you. I’m… Personally alright.”

Miguel nods, visibly relaxing when he hears the honesty in your tone. He slowly smiles. “I’m glad we can talk like this.”

You tilt your head slightly. “Talk like this?”

“That I’m able to communicate with you better than I used to,” Miguel explains.

“I’m glad you do, too,” you answer, recalling how Miguel kept a lot to himself in previous years, but how with time, he’s slowly opened up to you.

“Something else to thank you for,” he says, still smiling at you. Staring at you, Miguel thinks about that for a few seconds and how he’d have pages full of reasons to thank you for. He hums and slowly gets out of bed, deciding to start the day. “Now, since we’ve discussed that, let’s discuss something else. It’s our last day here and we leave by noon. How about we go get breakfast at the diner before we head home?”

“That sounds like a great way to end our trip,” you answer, kicking off the covers and climbing out of bed with a clear conscious.

After getting ready, Miguel and you decide to do a few things before heading out. You both pack your bags and make sure all the rooms are tidy, leaving them the way they were before you arrived. Fortunately, the broken bed won’t be an issue with the owners since Miguel notified them yesterday at some point, and they admitted they had noticed strange noises coming from it during cleaning. So, he was assured no charges would be added since it was an issue on their end.

Eventually, the two of you make it back to the same diner from yesterday and have a lovely breakfast together whilst enjoying the over the top Christmas vibes from the village.

“I got something sticky on my hand,” you say softly when you’re both done eating.

“Could it be that shiny thing you have on your lips?” Miguel asks since he noticed that you applied something glossy today.

“It’s a lip oil, meant to hydrate my lips due to the weather,” you answer with a smile, amused that Miguel has called it a ‘shiny thing’.

“Right. Lip oil,” Miguel answers, storing that away in his mind because it’s related to you. “It looks pretty on you.”

“Thank you,” you reply with a shy smile. “But it’s not that, it’s something else.”

“Maybe it was from passing me the salt and pepper,” Miguel says, thinking about earlier when his eggs needed a little more seasoning. “It felt weird when you handed it to me. Too many people touch it.” At that, you make a playful little face and mouth ‘yuck’, which makes Miguel laugh. “You should go wash your hands. I’ll pay and then go wash mine before we head out.”

“Alright, I’ll be quick,” you say, slipping out of the booth and heading to the restrooms, remembering the way from yesterday.

After seeing you make it to the restroom, Miguel heads to the register to pay. It doesn’t take him very long, considering there’s no line of customers, so he’s soon headed to the restroom to wash his hands. A minute later, he walks out and spots Ben Reilly leave your side and head his way, to the restrooms. For an unknown reason, Miguel gets a bad feeling, which only grows when he notices Ben wipe his mouth.

“Miguel, hey,” Reilly greets him as he reaches the restroom area.

“Hey, Ben,” Miguel answers, staring a little too closely at Reilly. It’s that, however, which allows Miguel to notice that Reilly has something shiny around his mouth. Something like a lip gloss, or a lip oil. Miguel swallows, his hands curling into fists at his sides at the sight. “Doing well?” he asks.

“Yeah, today has been a great day so far,” Reilly answers, briefly looking over his shoulder before facing Miguel again with a grin.

“That’s great. Glad to hear it,” Miguel responds, wondering why Reilly’s grin irritates him so much suddenly. He wishes he could wipe it off.

“I hope you’re doing well, too,” Reilly says, still grinning.

“I am, thank you,” Miguel replies without a smile on his face. “The past few days have been great with Dulzura, that’s my nickname for Y/N,” Miguel clarifies with a little smirk. “And with our other friends. We’re going home today to celebrate Christmas, but we definitely enjoyed our stay. This place is great,” he adds for some reason, noticing the grin disappear off Reilly’s face. Finally.

“Oh. You guys are going home,” Reilly says, clearing his throat. “To celebrate Christmas together. That’s great. So great for you guys... Well, I’m glad you enjoyed your stay. Happy Holidays to you.”

“Happy Holidays to you, too,” Miguel replies with a nod, watching Reilly slip inside the restroom with a frown on his face after wearing that frustrating grin. He huffs, annoyed with Reilly before he walks straight to you, thinking about the shiny stuff on his face. He pushes the thought away, but it comes back to him when he spots you reapplying your lip product, and mistletoe hanging from the ceiling just a few feet away from you. A sinking feeling washes over Miguel as he unwillingly connects those two facts with Ben and the shiny stuff on his face.

“Hey, you took a moment there. You alright?” you ask when you notice him, putting away the lip product into your pocket.

“… Yes,” Miguel answers, inhaling deeply and trying not to think too much about the reason why you just reapplied the product to your lips.

“I ran into Ben and what’s her name,” you start as you both exit the diner. “Everyone calls her Spider-Canada.”

“Spider…” Miguel trails off, not remembering her name in this moment. “Yeah, Spider-Canada. She was here, too?”

“Yes. Her and Ben were having breakfast. I ran into them while waiting for you.”

“Oh, that’s good for them,” he answers, swallowing. He glances your way as you both walk back to the cabin, noticing that you seem relaxed, a little too much, despite what may have just happened between you and Ben. He wants to ask and yet, at the same time, he doesn’t. What if you kissed and it was non-consensual from you? What if Ben disrespected you? He wants to know if Reilly has done that, but at the same time he doesn’t because he’d be upset.

He’d be upset that Ben disrespected you like that.

That’s the only reason he’d be upset; the sole reason for the sinking feeling Miguel carries with him all the way to the cabin.

Right?

Despite his curiosity, Miguel doesn’t dare to ask if something did happen. Not even when you’re both back home in Nueva York and done making plans regarding the cooking for Christmas Eve.

-♡-Christmas Eve-♡-

On the first morning back to Nueva York, Miguel surprises you with pancakes and other sides like fruit for breakfast. You both enjoy the meal at the dining table while talking, though you can sense that something has been on Miguel’s mind since yesterday right before you left the other universe. It made you wonder if Miguel had changed his mind and wanted to stay longer at the cabin, but when you asked if he was unhappy to leave, he answered no and seemed to mean it.

The rest of the day went smoothly once you arrived home, but still, you could tell something was, and still is, bothering Miguel. With the day ahead, you decide to give Miguel space regarding the matter, especially when he seems his normal self when he’s engaging with you or cooking. You figure he will share with you whatever is on his mind, at his own time.

At around noon, Miguel and you launch into action and begin prepping for the festive dinner.

Tamales with different fillings, and pozole [hominy] are cooked. Fruit is chopped and the dry ingredients are gathered for the ponche before it's all added to a pot with water to boil [hot fruit punch]. The champurrado is carefully prepared by Miguel, who tells you about his mom’s recipe [Mexican beverage]. Buñuelos [fried dough fritter]are also made, filling the kitchen with the sweet scent of piloncillo syrup [a type of cane sugar]. Since it’s one of your favorites, Miguel also cooks tinga with your help [Mexican dish]. For another dessert, you bake one of Miguel’s favorite cakes.

Hours later, you’ve both showered and dressed in more appropriate clothes for dinner to celebrate Christmas. With happy and joyous Christmas music playing from Miguel’s record player from the living room and the table set, you have dinner together, officially making it the third year you’ve done so.

Thinking about that, you chuckle at yourself and how nervous you were that first year.

“What’s so funny?” Miguel inquires with a raised eyebrow and a soft smile.

“I was thinking about the very first time I came here — to your home,” you answer, grabbing your glass and drinking. “I don’t know if you knew, but I was nervous about coming here.”

“I could tell,” Miguel responds, lowering his fork and recalling that moment from three years ago. He smiles fondly at you, feeling tenderness for you. Who would’ve thought that you’d be here three years later, having dinner with him again? Miguel clears his throat, suddenly feeling a knot begin to form. “When Lyla told me that you had been sent to deliver food and asking about my whereabouts, she mentioned you looked nervous. And, when you arrived, I could tell. You apologized for coming here before you explained that the Morales’s had sent food with you.”

You smile slowly and nod. “I was the chosen one. For some reason.”

“And I’m… I’m thankful you were,” Miguel softly answers. “I’m thankful you came that night and that you accepted my invitation for dinner. That was the first year I celebrated the holidays here in my universe after not doing so for many years. It was the first time I wasn’t alone on those days since Gabriel passed away. It meant, and still continues to mean, so much to me.”

You look away, feeling your eyes water. After clearing your throat, you look up and nod. “It meant so much to me that you invited me to stay. That you showed me the holographic tree and how holographic ornaments are designed. And, how you invited me the next day for the recalentado,” you answer [Mexican/Latin tradition].

Miguel smiles. “And we’ve kept it a tradition, haven’t we?” he whispers, a tear slipping down his face.

“We have,” you whisper back, a tear of your own running down your cheek.

“Don’t cry, Dulzura,” Miguel whispers, reaching over the table and offering your special gesture; his pinky finger. When you wrap yours around his without any doubt or questions, Miguel reciprocates. “Please, seeing you cry, makes me want to cry.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, wiping your eyes with your free hand, but a few more tears roll down your face out of nostalgia. Things have changed since that night three years ago, for the better.

“I know,” Miguel murmurs, raising his free hand to your face to gently wipe the tears away. He clears his throat, another tear slipping out of his eye. “We've come a long way.” He smiles again, thinking about three years ago. So much has happened and changed since then. He's smiled, laughed, and cried with you. He's made memories he'll carry, cherish, and protect for the rest of his life.

When he thought he was meant to be alone, in walked someone who didn't give up on him; someone who has had the patience of a saint with him; and someone who extended their hand and kept it offered until he was ready to accept it, or at least, a pinky finger.

“We really have. Three years later and we're here,” you answer. Three years ago, you visited the penthouse for the first time and now, you have a bedroom upstairs. There are reminders and personal touches of yours all throughout the space, like the gallery wall in the living room and the mugs from your universe in the kitchen cupboards. “Thank you for trusting me,” you murmur.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” Miguel murmurs back.

With a tender smile, you respond. “Never.” You smile at each other, tears still brimming in your eyes. “Let’s finish dinner. Everything, as always, turned out so delicious. And we still have the Christmas show to watch, don’t we?” you ask excitedly, trying to lighten up the mood.

“We do. It’ll start in a few hours.”

“I wonder if you’ll be part of it again,” you answer, making Miguel chuckle.

“Maybe. I’d be surprised if I am for a second year in a row,” Miguel answers, noticing your pinkies are still attached. “Either way, I hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m certain I will,” you answer, giving Miguel’s pinky a squeeze before slowly and reluctantly releasing his finger.

“You up for tinga?” Miguel asks, following your attempt to lighten the mood.

With no more tears shed, you continue to have dinner and enjoy the amazing food you both cooked. After the Christmas holographic show, which did include Miguel once more, you find yourselves in the living room, your usual hangout place. Sitting on the ground, you stare at the Christmas tree’s lights, admiring the beautiful tree and feeling the Christmas spirit. You’ve been talking about your short vacation, recalling each moment from the ice skating to the snowball fight you had with the spider gang.

It’s all lighthearted and fun, but of course, talking about the trip reminds Miguel of the whole thing with Ben from yesterday — about whether you kissed. Miguel has tried his best not to think about it and he’s been successful, or so he thinks, but the thought has come back thanks to the conversation.

And he must know.

Did Ben kiss you?

“Dulzura,” Miguel starts, trying to find the right words. “I know you’re a strong woman. That you can take care of yourself and have no need for someone to physically help you, but…”

“What is it, Miguel?” you ask, curious as to where this is going. One moment you’re talking about the trip and now the conversation has shifted to something completely different and unexpected.

“You would tell me, even if you can take care of yourself, if someone… Took advantage of your kindness, right?”

“Wh— What do you mean?” you ask, confused. With furrowed eyebrows, you shift your body to face and look at Miguel better.

“If someone… If someone was to take liberties with you,” Miguel answers, unsure if he’s using the right words or if he sounds crazy right now. “Like, kissing you without your consent.”

That makes you raise an eyebrow. Where is this coming from? You nod regardless. “I… Yes, I would if that happened. I would confide in you if such situation took place.” You blink a few times, still trying to understand why Miguel has brought this up.

“If that happened,” Miguel repeats, now uncertain if Ben did anything at all, or if he did but with your full consent.

“Why are you asking me this?” you inquire.

Miguel sighs, running a hand through his hair and deciding to be honest. “I ran into Ben at the diner yesterday, too. At the restrooms. I noticed he had something like lip gloss on his mouth and then, when I went back to you, you were reapplying your lip oil. I also noticed there was mistletoe near you, so… I couldn’t help but think that you guys…” Miguel says, trailing off.

“Kissed,” you finish, everything clicking in your head with Miguel’s confession. “No, we didn’t.”

“Oh,” Miguel replies, relief running through his body. “I was worried he had and that it hadn’t been with your consent,” Miguel continues, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Ben can be… A little clueless sometimes, and impulsive. So, I was worried he had kissed you in the name of mistletoe without your permission.”

Suddenly, you realize this is what has been bothering Miguel all along since yesterday. You smile and shake your head, understanding now where Miguel is coming from, and feeling something warm and fuzzy bloom in your chest at the fact that Miguel has been worried about you being in an uncomfortable position due to a man.

“He didn’t kiss me, but he did kiss Spider-Canada. I still can’t remember her name,” you pause, frowning and trying to remember. “I was under the mistletoe with him at some point and he was just about to tell me about it when I stepped away to look for you. When I looked back at them, Spider-Canada was already next to Ben, right under the mistletoe, so they kissed once they gave each other clearance to do so. She was wearing lip gloss, or something of the sort, which Ben tried to wipe off, but he ended up spreading it all over instead. That’s when he excused himself to go to the restroom.”

“I see,” Miguel answers, smiling slowly and finding the situation somewhat funny now, though Ben’s attitude still seems a bit annoying to him. “I’m glad it was consensual,” he continues, telling himself that he’d be saying the same thing, even if it was you in Spider-Canada’s place.

“Me, too. So yeah, no kisses for me.” You chuckle. “Except you know…”

Miguel raises an eyebrow, wondering if he missed something along the way.

“The one you and I…” you say, trailing off.

“Ah, yes, yes,” Miguel answers shyly, his cheeks feeling warmer suddenly. “Just that one.”

“But thank you for thinking about me,” you continue. “I appreciate your concern.” You sigh softly. “And I would’ve told you if something like that happened to me. You’re my… Best friend, after all.”

“And you’re mine,” Miguel answers with a small smile. “I’m glad you’d feel comfortable sharing that kind of situation with me. I know you can take care of yourself, but still. I would — I would defend and stand up for you, or stand next to you and help when you request aid. Whichever way you prefer, I’ll be here for you. Always.”

“Same goes to you,” you reply, touched by his words. “Always.”

Smiling, Miguel sighs. He’s glad that he finally asked you about the situation and relieved that nothing happened. For your safety and well being, of course! With that out of his mind, he thinks about the trip again and how much he enjoyed getting away with you, even if it was just for a few days. “Can we do this again next year?” Miguel asks. “Take a getaway trip, and then come back and celebrate Christmas at home?”

“If you'll have me and I'm still around, it's a yes from me,” you answer, staring at the lights.

“I'll have you,” Miguel quickly responds, holding back from saying that he’ll have you every Christmas, every single one until his last one, if you allow him to. “So, you better be here.”

You laugh softly and turn to face Miguel, smiling. “I'll do my absolute best to be here.”

“Good,” he answers, turning to face you, too. “Or, I’ll go and find you. Wherever you are.”

Chuckling, you continue to stare at Miguel. “Likewise, solecito [little sun].”

At the nickname, Miguel feels his cheeks grow warm. It’s been over a month since you gave him the new nickname and since then, you’ve used it a few times here and there, but no matter how many times you’ve said it, Miguel still feels over the moon each and every time he's heard it. He smiles at you, a fuzzy and fluttering ****feeling stirring in his chest. It's familiar, yet somehow it’s stronger here in this moment.

“Should we… Stay here and maybe watch a movie?” you ask, gesturing to the living room that looks absolutely cozy and magical due to the decorations.

“If you want to,” Miguel answers. “I don’t mind. Staying, that is.”

“Hmm,” you hum, thinking. “I wouldn’t mind either.”

“It’s settled, then,” he states. “I’ll be right back. Wait for me here.”

You watch Miguel stand up, wondering where he’s going, but you don’t have to wonder for long because two minutes later, Miguel comes back from upstairs with pillows and blankets. Smiling, you help set up since you’ll be spending the night in the living room, together.

Once settled, and after you've completed your night routines, Miguel and you decide on a movie to watch, but an hour later, you've both fallen asleep next to each other.

-♡-Christmas Day-♡-

Snowflakes swirl down from the sky, adding to the already thick white blanket that covers the city of Nueva York. Inside the penthouse, the fireplace is still on, keeping the space warm and toasty. The Christmas tree and other festive decorations are still on, creating a lovely and welcoming ambiance. Everything looks the same, except for the gifts beneath the Christmas tree that were left during the night by each of you at different times.

“It’s Christmas time!”

Miguel and you startle awake by the loud voice of… Lyla, of course.

“What time is it?” you sleepily ask, rubbing one of your eyes.

“You didn’t have to startle us like that,” Miguel grumpily and sleepily says, sitting up with a huff.

“But it’s Christmas time! All the families in Nueva York are waking up right now, so you guys should, too!” Lyla eagerly says. “Plus, I really want to see what you got each other for Christmas. It was soooo cute seeing you guys wake up in the middle of the night to put your gifts under the tree. Like, so adorable. I took photos, of course.”

“Lyla,” you mutter. “Please tell me you didn’t because I’m sure we probably don’t look good in them.”

“Yeah, that’s unfortunately the truth. You guys look like you’re sneaking around, which I guess you were to avoid waking each other up? But anyway… Open the gifts!”

“I think we both need coffee first,” Miguel says looking at you rub away the sleep from your eyes, looking so sweet and endearing.

“Mhm,” you confirm. “A cup. Or, two.”

Miguel chuckles deeply before he yawns. “I’ll make it for us. If you want to lay down for a few more minutes, go ahead. I’ll bring it over here once it’s done.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking up at Miguel as he stands up.

“I’m sure, Dulzura,” Miguel answers, looking down at you with a soft and sleepy smile. “I’ll get it.”

You nod and watch him head to the kitchen to make the coffee. With a yawn, you lay back down and close your eyes.

“Isn’t he so sweet?”

You open your eyes again, finding Lyla laying on her stomach in mid-air next to you. “What?” you ask, sleepily.

“Miguel. Isn’t he so sweet? Letting you sleep a few more minutes while he makes coffee for the two of you?”

“Yes,” you answer, nodding. “It’s very sweet of him.”

“I think he’d make a great husband,” Lyla continues, smiling. “Don’t you think?”

“He would,” you respond, sleep fading away due to the conversation. “He really would.”

“That’s what I’m saying. If he ever marries, that woman will be lucky,” she continues, raising an eyebrow at you.

“She would,” you answer, slowly sitting up again.

“Anywayyyy,” Lyla continues, checking her nails before glancing at you. “Something I thought about just now. Well, my duty here is done. I’ve woken you two up.”

“I thought you wanted to see what we gifted each other—” you say, but are interrupted by Lyla.

“I see everything, unless deactivated, so no worries. Merry Christmas,” Lyla says with a little smirk before disappearing.

After a few seconds of silence, you sigh and shake your head, putting thoughts of Miguel marrying away. You glance at the windows, noticing the falling snow. With a smile, you stand up and walk to the windows to take a closer look, finding everything covered in snow.

“Una blanca Navidad [a white Christmas],” Miguel states from behind you, finding you in front of the windows. He pauses for a moment to take in the sight of you before approaching.

“A white Christmas,” you repeat with a smile, accepting a mug when Miguel offers you one. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“Always,” he answers. “We definitely need it since someone rudely woke us up. Wait — where's Lyla?”

“She's already gone. She said she can see everything unless deactivated.”

“Lyla,” Miguel mutters, shaking his head before drinking from his mug. He turns to gaze at you again, smiling when he remembers. “Want to open the gifts?”

“Yeah, why not?” you answer with a smile, gesturing to the tree.

With your mugs, you both approach the tree and carefully sit down on the ground.

“Alright, let me see which one I want to give you first,” Miguel says, looking at his carefully wrapped gifts. He picks up a box and hands it to you. “Let’s start with this one.”

“And you with this one,” you answer, accepting his gift to you and handing him his from you. Looking at the box, you smile when you see ‘Dulzura’ written in Miguel’s neat handwriting on a name tag, along with a cute bow.

Together, you unwrap the first gifts together, revealing new music records for each other.

“Seems like we had the same idea,” you say, looking at the different artists’ names.

“Great minds think alike,” Miguel answers with a soft smirk, thankful for your gift. “Thank you for the new records. I’m more than ready to listen to them.”

“Always. I hope you like them,” you respond with a smile. “Thank you for mine, too. I have no doubt I’m going to enjoy them.”

With a grin, Miguel nods and hands you another box. “I hope you do. I went back to the record store you took me to on my birthday. Mr. Stanley asked about you,” he says, accepting another gift box from you. “He asked where… Um.” Miguel pauses as he gently begins to unwrap the box. “Where I left my girlfriend at.”

“He asked me where I left you at, too,” you reveal with a chuckle. “I went earlier this month to pick up a few things from his store.”

“I did, too,” Miguel shares with a smile. “Told him I was picking up some gifts.”

Finally opening the gifts, and being completely fine with the fact that you’ve both casually accepted someone’s assumption of a romantic relationship between you, you both pull out sweatshirts.

“Hey!” Miguel says with excitement as he unfolds the sweatshirt to see the full design, revealing Spider-Woman merch from your universe. “Merch of my favorite Spider-Woman,” he says with a smile. “I love the design and how soft it is.”

Unfolding yours, you find that the sweatshirt is also merch of Miguel with Spider-Man 2099 on it. “And I got my own of Spider-Man 2099. How did you know I’m a big fan of him?” you playfully ask.

“I had a guess,” Miguel answers with a soft smirk. “I hope you like the design and color though. If you don’t, we can return this one and get another one.”

“No, no, I love it! Thank you, Migs,” you reply, touching the fabric. “You’ll be seeing me wearing it often, that’s for sure.”

After exchanging a few more gifts like books, cute fuzzy socks and pajamas with one of your favorite characters on them for you, and a tool set for Miguel among other gifts, Miguel and you each have a box left.

“Here,” Miguel gently says, offering his gift, the most vulnerable of all. “I hope you like it.”

“For you,” you respond, handing him your last gift for him.

At the same time, you accept each other’s final gifts and begin to open them. From the size alone, it seems that whatever you've gifted each other is small and delicate. When the paper is off, jewelry boxes are revealed, making you both look up at each other with equal surprise and amusement. The latter fades, however, when you each open the box and find a similar, if not the exact, gift.

Carefully, you take the bracelet out of the box to admire it. Much like the one you’re giving Miguel, the bracelet is simple except for a single knot in the middle.

“We got each other the same thing,” Miguel states softly in astonishment. With gentleness, he takes it out of the box before looking at you. “Well, mine is meant as a matching…”

“Matching bracelet,” you finish, pulling out the one meant for you out of a pocket from your pajamas's bottom. Your plan was to surprise Miguel with matching bracelets before wearing your own.

“You…?” Miguel starts before he pulls out a bracelet from his sweatpants’s pocket, having the same plan as you. “I got mine from here — this universe, I mean.”

“And I got mine from my own,” you answer in awe.

Silently, you slip on the bracelets you already had, the ones meant for yourselves, before slipping on the ones you’ve gifted each other. Seconds later, you extend your hand out and so does Miguel, your wrists side by side now wearing two bracelets that are fairly similar except for the thickness.

Miguel chuckles as he continues to stare at both your wrists, finding it amusing yet again, but mostly endearing. “What a coincidence,” he murmurs, that of everything you could’ve gifted each other, you both went for matching bracelets. And not only that, the matching bracelets are the same in design with its single yet elegant knot.

“Truly,” you answer with a smile. “But I love the gift regardless. Thank you, Miguel.”

“Always,” Miguel replies, still smiling, before he thanks you for his.

“Merry Christmas,” you tell him.

“Feliz Navidad, Dulzura [Merry Christmas],” Miguel responds with a smile. “Do you want to have breakfast now? I can cook something for us and then, we can put together the puzzle I gifted you. Seems like it’ll keep us busy.”

“That sounds like a wonderful plan,” you answer, picking up the puzzle he gave you. You stare at the picture on the front, admiring it since it’s a pretty puzzle of flying butterflies colored in a way that makes it look vintage. “I’ll help you!” you offer, standing up eagerly to have breakfast with Miguel.

The two of you walk to the kitchen together, the matching bracelets safe around your wrists.

“Wait, really?” Lyla asks, appearing near the tree and watching you enter the kitchen. “You guys didn’t even ask about the knot and the significance.” She huffs. “You’ll figure it out sooner or later, I guess. Hopefully, sooner rather than later, though,” she says with a smirk before disappearing again.

You spend the rest of the day together in the comfort of the penthouse, the very same place Miguel once found cold and desolate, but now feels like home because of you. Time is spent on the puzzle, café de olla is drank, and amazing food is reheated and eaten. Talks about New Year’s Eve comes up with both Miguel and you looking forward to it and knowing that no matter where you spend it, you’ll be together to welcome the new year and everything it has to offer; adventures, personal growth, laughs, special moments, and memories to cherish for years to come.

And perhaps, Miguel thinks to himself later that night as he lays in bed alone while playing with his bracelets, the year to come will be the year he finally says goodbye to those physical boundaries of his.

Miguel rolls on his side, facing the empty spot next to him. Mindlessly, he caresses the cold and empty spot with his hand before his fingers find your sweatshirt, tugging it closer almost instantly. Miguel sighs and closes his eyes, your scent much closer now. For a few seconds, he remains like that before he grabs a pillow to slip your sweatshirt onto. At last, Miguel pulls the pillow close, to his chest, and hugs it.

Embracing the pillow, Miguel thinks about you sleeping in the next room, so close but much farther away than the last few days at the cabin.

Miguel sighs again and hugs the pillow closer, wondering. Could this upcoming year, be the year he finally crosses that final line when it comes to his physical boundaries with you?

The mere idea of it makes his heart race, but not out of anxiety like in previous years before you, when people tried touching him to offer comfort. No, Miguel’s heart races out of excitement at the possibility. It’d be so much progress for him, and Miguel knows it. It’d be another step forward in his healing journey.

And… It would also mean, that at some point, at last, Miguel might finally be ready for something you’ve been ready for a while. He recalls now, how nearly a year ago, you made that clear to him with a sudden confession made out of exhaustion.

It was the day your apartment complex caught on fire. You were already here at the penthouse, showered and free of the smell of smoke, but you were exhausted after hours of helping tenants evacuate the building, and Miguel could see it. He made you breakfast so you could eat something before you went to sleep and it was afterwards, when you were going upstairs to the bedroom, that you stopped at the doorway of the kitchen and dining area.

He wondered then if something was wrong before you thanked him for his kindness and the fact that he had respected your choice of declining backup. You thanked him for helping you transport your belongings to this dimension and for offering his home. And then, you said something that Miguel knows you would’ve kept to yourself had you not been so tired.

“… offering me to stay here and trying to make me feel at home,” you said that day, your voice wavering. “It means so much to me and I wish — I wish I could give you a hug — a really tight one — just to emphasize with more than words — how much it means to me.”

That confession, made out of your exhaustion, messed with Miguel so much. He remembers the effect it had on him after you apologized for revealing it. He wondered then, what would it be like to embrace and be embraced by you? To feel your warmth? His hands itched to touch and before he knew it, he was rushing upstairs, but he found you already fast asleep and that rush calmed at the sight of you peacefully resting at last, in his home.

It stayed with him, that confession. And it had such an impact on him that day, that Miguel made his special gesture for the first time ever.

The pinky hug.

Miguel swallows, holding the pillow wrapped in your sweatshirt. You expressed that day your wish to embrace him, meaning you've been ready for it.

But is Miguel ready, too?

Miguel asks himself that before he surrenders to his sleep, lulled by your lovely and familiar scent. Somewhere in his slumber, he murmurs something.

“Yes.”

Previous ⋅ ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ⋅ Next

A/N: hiii my lovely pookies!!

Very quickly (because if you read this far, I've already taken an hour or so of your time), I want to say thank you for reading yet another chapter! This is now the second Christmas I’ve spent writing this fic, which is insane, actually. I know I probably sound like a broken record (I’m an emotional/sensitive person, so I just, yeah 🥲), but anyway, thank you so much if you’ve stuck around to read this fic that was meant to be 4 chapters, and for spending another year with me! For those who joined this year, thank you, too! 🥹❤️

I look at where this story is now and I find it unbelievable, yet so fulfilling. I have written many things over the years from fanfic for other fandoms to personal works since I was about 14yrs (wait, the way I started this fic when I was 24, and I'm now 26...? 😭), but to this day, this is by far my top favorite project.

A big reason for that is due to you lovely readers! I'm incredibly thankful that so many of you are still reading this fic despite the slow and/or super long updates sometimes; the slow and torturous slowburn that this fic is; and the lack of romantic and physical love right now that often repels/discourages many readers because of the need for instant spice.

So, thank you for supporting this fic! It has been a privilege to be here and to share my writing. I look forward, God willing, to completing this fic in 2025 and giving it a satisfying and well deserved ending, which will most definitely make me sob my eyes out, but in a happy way ((:

To conclude, thank you for your kindness and love, and for being a safe space for me!! Also, Happy New Year!! I hope that this year treats you with love, kindness, and patience, and that you experience nothing but great things!!

I love you all!! Pls take care and I'll hopefully see you for the next chapter! 💕💖🥹

Alondra❤️

p.s. how normal are Miguel and Dulzura about each other? 😅 And what do we think about Miguel's thoughts at the end? 😌

Taglist:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick

@arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi

@natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07

@nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01

@somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274

@vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread

@shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix

@luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues

@pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah

@muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii

@www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l

@aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots

@l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese

@damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1

@darksidescorner @geminis93

@1800-get-alife

@hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife

@dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss

@may4ri @t4naiis @f1-hoff @llumetrii

@nina-from-317 @kavimoo

Bonus Message ... because I meant to write this on an earlier chapter, but since I posted the last 3 chapters in a weekend (oh, who is she?), I forgot to. A lovely new reader caught some symbolism I was really excited about in chapter 18 (beach episode) regarding the mention of butterflies and birds, and since I mentioned butterflies in this chapter, I figured it would be ok to mention it here, too.

As some of you may recall, both Miguel and Dulzura have had encounters with birds when they're at the cemetery. As one reader guessed in the past, these birds represent Gabriel and Peter (Dulzura's Peter), visiting and listening to them.

In chapter 18, Dulzura visited Peter's grave with Miguel, and they both saw a bird (same color as before for her) before it fluttered its wings and flew off.

After doing little research, birds can oftentimes represent freedom and spirituality. Due to that, I decided to convey Gabriel and Peter's spirits/souls through birds. In the end, this bird (Peter) fluttered its wings and flew off after chirping for a bit and staring at M and D, symbolizing Peter's true departure. Why? Up to that point, Dulzura had always gone to the cemetery alone, but that day, Miguel went with her and formally 'met' Peter. The happy chirping for M and D before the bird flew away symbolized his happiness, approval, and acceptance of them -- allowing Peter to fully move on knowing Dulzura is in good hands 🥺

As to the butterflies that flew over Peter's grave as M and D were walking away, these symbolize M and D. Butterflies symbolize rebirth, personal growth, transformations, new beginnings, etc. M and D are individuals who have gone through a rebirth after the losses and pain they have experienced. Together, they're forming a new beginning/life.

As to the puzzle in that chapter that they put together while discussing the possibility of love and having children, it symbolizes them piecing a future together.

And that's it! Thank you for reading that, if you did. I was really excited about the symbolism in that chapter just to forget about it lmao💀😭

[sunstone-smiles]

could you do maybe 13 or 25 with ler phoenix and lee miles?

Hello Anon! I hope you enjoy Day 13 of Tickletober: Blush!

The Blush of A Steel Samurai Fan

Series: Ace Attorney

Characters: Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth

Words: 877

Summary: When Edgeworth tries to deny any sort of flustered reaction on his face while talking about the Steel Samurai, Phoenix takes advantage of the situation to get him to admit it. Enjoy!

—

Phoenix and Edgeworth enter the office after an early morning down at the precinct. Their hands are filled with files and paperwork about new individuals involved in their next case. Phoenix places his folder on his desk, then walks over to a nearby table to make himself some coffee. Meanwhile, Edgeworth places his files down on the table near the couch, but perks his head up upon seeing the television screen. It’s the Steel Samurai, in all his glory, paused on the screen within his iconic battle stance before he’s ready to strike.

“Wright, why is this on?” Edgeworth asks, pointing at the television.

“Hm?” Phoenix looks in his direction as he pours himself coffee. “Oh, Maya and Pearl were watching it before they left for the park this morning. I guess they forgot to turn it off.” The lawyer places the coffee pot down and takes a sip from his mug while Edgeworth searches for the remote. “I think they were watching the episode with the Evil Majesty or something.”

Edgeworth finds the television device and turns off the screen. “It’s the Evil Magistrate, Wright,” the prosecutor answers back with an as a matter of fact tone, perhaps a little too matter of factly.

“Oh, yeah that’s right.” Phoenix takes another sip from his mug. “You answered that with such confidence. How did you know that?”

Edgeworth freezes. It probably would have been better not to correct the lawyer this one time, but now he has to give some sort of answer so he doesn’t draw suspicion to his secret about being a fan of the Steel Samurai. “We had a case that revolved around it, remember,” Edgeworth states, “We were supposed to know those things.”

“Riiight…But if that’s the reason, why is there a blush on your face?” Phoenix can’t help but smirk upon noticing Edgeworth’s flustered reaction.

The prosecutor quickly turns his head away from Phoenix’s direction and touches the back of his hand to his face, feeling the heat in his cheeks. He pulls his hand away with a growl, cursing the involuntary reaction he can't hide. “There is not!” he attempts to deny, “You must be seeing things.”

Phoenix places his coffee mug down and makes his way over to Edgeworth. He comes up to the side of him and peeks around the prosecutor's shoulder. “Yes there is. It’s right there,” Phoenix states with a point towards his face.

Edgeworth jerks his head to side in the opposite direction of the lawyer. “Would you stop looking! There is not!”

“Why are you lying? It’s not very hard to miss.”

“Because I said it’s not there, so it’s not there,” Edgeworth responds like a school child as he moves his shoulders upwards to hide his face even further.

“Okay, fine!” Phoenix answers a bit frustrated at the other man’s shenanigans, but his mouth quickly switches to form a smile. “But you won’t be able to deny it when I do this!”

With no hesitation, Phoenix launches his hands forward and begins tickling Edgeworth’s sides. Immediately, the prosecutor jolts his head up with a choked out yelp. 

“GAHCK! Wrihihihight!” Edgeworth bends his body forward as he poorly tries to hold in the laughter already slipping out. He tries to grab Phoenix's wrists and pry them away to escape the lawyer’s grasp, to no avail.

“Hey, you brought this upon yourself. All I asked was for you to tell me the truth,” Phoenix smirks and moves his hands upwards to Edgeworth’s ribs, purposely drilling his fingers into the ticklish bones. With a jump, the prosecutor arches his back and accidentally lets out an uncharacteristic squeak upon feeling Phoenix target this spot.

“Nohohoho! Wahahahait!”

Phoenix chuckles, “Was that a squeak I just heard just now? If so, may I just say that was adorable.”

“Yohohou didn’t hehehear anythihihing!” the prosecutor weakly tries to refute. Great, now the lawyer’s done it; Edgeworth’s face heats up even further and he tries to hide his nearly burning red cheeks behind his hair and his shoulders.

“You can deny the first blush all you want, but there’s no way you can deny this one. Your face is bright red. Any redder and you’ll be matching the color of your suit jacket,” Phoenix teases as he hones in on the prosecutor’s ribs, nearly making the other man crumble to the ground while he desperately flails around in Phoenix’s hold. 

“WRIHIHIGHT! Enohohohugh!” Edgeworth exclaims through his laughter. Phoenix pulls his hands away and holds them up innocently while the other man stumbles forward and wraps his arms around himself to clutch his previously attacked ribs.

“See, now was that so hard to admit?” Phoenix gives the prosecutor a sly smile and strides back over to his desk where his cup of coffee awaits.

Edgeworth stands in the same spot, breathless as he tries to recover. Usually he would scold the lawyer, but he’s way too exhausted right now to even try. At least he kept his secret about liking the Steel Samurai…Right?

He looks over at Phoenix taking a sip of his coffee, who stares at him back with raised eyebrows and a smug grin behind his mug.

Nope. That look screams that the lawyer knew about his secret all along.

“Darn you, Wright…”

[renatapatata]

UNUS ANNUS GOODBYE LIVESTREAM HIGHLIGHTS;

(From someone that watched it completely despite completely ruining their sleep schedule as a result,, worth it tho ✌)

They rented and set up an Unus Annus themed room and had a laptop between them to directly check out videos on, as well as a timer on a screen to remind us of their impending doom.

Amy (bless her soul) was the true moderator who from a?? Tech spot above them would speak into her mike like God and direct them to looking at out of context screenshots, memes and fanart from over the past year.

They scrolled through the channel from beginning to end and had the time to watch a dozen of them - particularly like a video from each 'era' ish of the channel, like the first ones or Camp Unus Annus as well as fan/their favorites.

All the editors got shout outs + were probably tasked to make a compilation video of the edits they were individually tasked to do and ended up making just absolute masterpiece tributes 😳

They watched videos such as Mark and Ethan Attempt an Escape Room, DIY Chiropractor, DIY Geriatric Simulator and so on...

Mark had never seen one of their last videos, Ethan Kidnaps Mark, which was the pre 'The Truth of Unus Annus' video and was basically Ethan's version of the Mark's Outside Escape Room from Camp Unus Annus.

DJ Burt Blackarach sent them a cake + bottle of champagne and ☠ y'know Ethan doesn't play with baked goods due to his peanut allergy and Mark cant drink alcohol but they appreciated the sentiment (we all did c'mon it was super sweet)

Mark got the bug watch for Amy that he'd accidentally donated in that early on video with Sean about Donating Toys to Charity!!

They almost killed a video that they found mediocre (but that is actually one of my faves ngl) aka How Much Caffeine Can Kill a Man but at the Last Second they realized that they probs shouldn't get rid of a video beforehand fnfnfn with the reasoning being that it could be someone's birthday video and that it deserved to live till the bitter end (that being of like. 5 extra hours)

There was lots of general shenanigans and ramblings/bits from time to time, with Mark and Ethan being pretty content and ready to say goodbye to the channel.

Oh yeah and then like at 2 hours and a half before it ended Ethan got a live tattoo done of the counted down to 0 timer as Mark failed to be normal around the tattoo artist and 'hAd' to mention the Pee Sauna and Pee Soda to her-

On the subject of tattoos they went through some amazing tattoos that fans had gotten and sent pictures of

Hashtags on Twitter were being flooded, with things such as #Unusannusisoverparty, #WeWereHere, #MarksNewHat - which, yeah Amy got him a top hat and I don't think I've ever seen such pure joy on his face than in that moment.

+++ Amy was wearing an epic suit which was their main aesthetic of half white half black...

Mark reiterates how proud he is of Ethan, of Amy... of the whole team!!! I got emo it was starting to get too real

AND THEN MARK HAD SURPRISE CUSTOM UNUS ANNUS POCKET WATCHES FOR AMY AND ETHAN,,,

So then ya they started getting a bit more speechless/emotional near this bitter end, and at an hour ish left I want to say was when they hit 1 million likes on the stream - and they kept pushing to hit that milestone since if they reached it they would reveal what was inside the coffin...

Plottwist!!! The coffin was empty but they decided to test it out and take turns in it (the material inside was apparently very soft).

So then Ethan gets in the coffin which commences a string of eulogies between em which got me way too emotional and was like a part of the stream that was just Being Brutally Honest With Each Other 2.0.

Mark basically talking about how proud he is of Ethan + how he's excited for his future endeavors and knows that despite the goofy exterior he shows he has such potential and then Eef gets out of the coffin crying which then proceeded to make chat (and me) cry fukcC

Mark gets in the coffin and Ethan talks about how hardworking and no bullshit a person Mark is and how he's learned so much from him and how Mark has never given up on him and his constant presence and support has changed him-

Mark gets out of the coffin crying, they hug it out and ya everyone's crying emotions r healthy gang and damn did we go through a rollercoaster of them...

So I'm weepy and dont necessarily remember exactly what was next, but Amy also got in the coffin which prompted Mark to just go off and give her the most well deserved praise ever since she was the one behind so many of their most creative/cursed ideas and was ghaaa Mark obviously could have talked about her for forever it was super sweet and shes just so deserving of all of that 🥺🥺🥺 gosh we really have her to thank for all the hard work that was put in and resulted in such an amazing payoff...

The last video they watched was The Barrel Song by the way with Schmoyoho, which was weirdly??? Really fitting since it was about saying goodbye and destroying something that you'd become fond of.

Evan then ominously says in response to being offered to get in the cry coffin with like. 5 minutes left on the timer that he totally went in it earlier which was him just politely saying No💖

Oops also forgot to mention but in the last hour they slowly deleted/privated the Instagram, Tumblr, Reddit and Twitter accounts.

And for the ultimate end which wow really came too fast once the numbers dwindled down to 10 minutes left Amy sat in frame in between Mark and Ethan as they clicked the delete channel button and the stream went dead.

[multimetaverse]

HSMTMTS 2x09 Review

Spring Break was a bit of an odd ep but helped move some key plots forward. Let’s dig in!

Well people can no longer claim that Portwell is one sided. We finally got Gina’s pov and she starts off the ep uncertain whether the shift in their relationship means that EJ likes her but by the end of the ep she seems sure of herself and that EJ likes her back. I liked that she didn’t try to pretend that nothing had changed or that she hadn’t noticed potential signs that EJ might like her; it always sucks when tv characters act like idiots. 

Perhaps the most important reveal of this ep was that Gina has a much older estranged brother who left her and her mom many years ago. That certainly makes her backstory more tragic and is definite set up for her brother to eventually return.

The writers continue to give Portwell great tropes, capping this ep off with an airport rom-com trope that also calls back to EJ getting Gina the place ticket so she could come back in S1. Not only did Gina keep EJ’s Duke sweatshirt but she altered it to fit her better which is both sweet and bold in the assumption that it was hers to keep. Gina got her sign when not only did EJ show up to drive Gina home and take her luggage but he brought her the granola bar that she had wanted but forgot to pack. I wonder if her posting on her story that she was ubering home after her flight was cancelled was intended to see if EJ would show up since the camera focused on her posting it. Also sweet that she’s taken to calling EJ, ‘ Eej’. 

EJ’s opening was good, shows a lot of his character growth from the selfish guy he was in S1 and how he’s learned to value other people which of course leads into his feelings for Gina. We got another great use of the camera as character tonight when Gina was laughing after her facetime call with EJ until she realized that the camera was on her. 

Jack was a lot of fun. Though he didn’t really change Gina’s mind over anything like the ep description said he would.  Seemed like Gina was largely over Ricky and wondering about EJ at the beginning and the end solidified her feelings for EJ but Jack didn’t really play a role in that, it’s not like he encouraged Gina to reach out to EJ or anything. There’s a vague sense in which Jack being nomadic linked him to Ricky’s unreliability in Gina’s eyes with her craving stability but that’s a stretch. Jack mentioned that the second most dangerous part of a plane ride is when the plane takes off, a hint to the blossoming Portwell relationship where in order to take off one or both of them has to risk a confession even though they could be turned down.

This ep might seem a bit weird in hindsight. The zoom parts probably won’t age well and five years from now people might be wondering why they had Gina hang out with a manic pixie dream boy of sorts for an ep.

The path is clear for canon Portwell in the finale with EJ being Gina’s second chance at romance and her first kiss since they clearly telegraphed it out of nowhere. I’ve been impressed with the great work the writers have been doing since 2x05 to build up Portwell as a ship but also work on Gina and EJ as individual characters; they’ve been the highlight of the season so far. 

There was discourse this past week over how well or poorly Portwell has been set up. Objectively very few ships on this show get much in the way of set up or consistent writing. Redlyn and Kowie had barely any set up before getting together. Seblos had none (though in fairness that was due to Disney restrictions) and Miss Jenn and Mike Bowen didn’t have much set up either. Rini did get lots of development in S1 but that’s because they had already dated and were the main ship of the show. The show’s not really about slow burns, if Jenzzara canons in the finale they’ll count and if Rina ever got together they’d also count but neither of those ships have gotten consistent development with Mazzara not being in several eps and Gina and Ricky not even interacting for the past 3 eps. 

Is Portwell a slowburn? In a sense since they did feature quite a bit in each other’s S1 plot lines and even had a fake dating plot but it is true that they were platonic and not that close in S1 so it’s a wash. There was clear set up for romantic Portwell in 1x10 with team wonderstudies and Gina staring at EJ (which interestingly enough looked more like set up for Gina to pine over EJ). I think the main problem is that even though we saw Gina and EJ hanging out in the background we didn’t get any scenes of substance between them until 2x05. It was a mistake and there should have been some scene, like EJ and Gina commiserating in 2x03 over being single on Valentine’s Day or something like that. Hell there was even that still from 2x01 of EJ and Gina looking at each other at the piano while they were in the frame between Ricky and Nini singing and having a moment  which would have been good foreshadowing but that shot wasn’t in the ep.

Whether Tim just really wanted Portwell to be a surprise in 2x05 as a mid-season twist to throw the audience off of what looked like a Rini/Rina triangle or he was unsure as to whether he wanted to go with Portwell or if he just planned it out poorly we may never know. Regardless they’ve had great writing for 4 eps in a row now which puts them slightly ahead of the 3 eps in a row of development Rina got in S1. I’m sure if someone added up their screen time they’d find that Portwell has more screen time this season than Kowie and more screen time than Redlyn or Seblos  got in S1. 

Caswell cousins was fun and Ashlyn did in fact paint EJ’s nails. 

Set up for Seblos drama next week, it’s refreshing to see Seb being jealous over Carlos flirting with other boys that’s definitely not something you see on Disney shows.

Ricky got some healing done with his mom. Enough to cover their issues? No but this is probably the best this show is capable of. There was a brief mention of therapy sandwiched between other options which sounds more like checking off a box then setting up Ricky actually going to therapy. I noticed Lynne was smiling at odd times like when she told Ricky she knew about his breakup with Nini; whether that was poor directing or acting I don’t know. Who knows if we’ll see Lynne again. As an aside still so wild that Tim named Lynne who’s been a kinda shitty mom after his own mom who he seems to be fairly close with.

Really liked You ain’t seen nothin as a song but not a fan of the Tiktok style vid. I’ll level with you wildcats, I’m too old to really get Tiktok, it just seems like a crappy version of Vine to me. Let you go was good, seemed better fitted for Joshua Bassett’s voice than some of his previous songs. A big sign that they’re not circling back to Rini for a long time for sure. Though on that note we got a bit of a hint that Ricky was Nini’s muse which may one day come back as a way to help bring them back together. 

Looking Ahead:

If there’s only 3 weeks left till the Menkies, with only 2 weeks left for rehearsal due to spring break, it’s hard to see East High winning unless North High is disqualified or has to withdraw. 

Lily is in a promo photo so she’s likely the unexpected facetime Ricky gets which is what I had theorized. Also makes it much more likely that she’s the party crasher Ricky re-evaluates in the finale though what Tim actually wants to do with those two I do not know.

There’s little point in bringing back the Valentine’s chocolate since there’s no real stakes. Rini are already broken up, Gina hasn’t spoken to Ricky since 2x06, and it’s not like Nini and Gina were ever close so even if they stopped talking to each other it wouldn’t really affect the show in any way. 

Seems pretty likely that Second Chances refers to Gina realizing that her first try with Ricky failed but her second chance with EJ won’t and that leads to her sharing her truth and cue the Portwell confession and kiss, perhaps with an assist on EJ’s end from Mazzara. We’ve gone well past the point where Portwell can be brushed off as just a plot device to help Rina but Tim is playing with fire by getting the audience so on board with Portwell if he’s once again going to have EJ lose a girl he likes to Ricky in S3.

Gina certainly needs to talk with Ricky and I do think that happens in ep 11 or 12 and leaves them on better terms. As I mentioned last week, if Tim was smart he’d slam the door on Rina if he’s going with canon Portwell or vice versa. If he wants Rina to be a slow burn he’s really botched the writing this season, it’s been too one sided and too angsty to sustain any kind of momentum or audience interest. They haven’t even interacted for 3 eps now and not only has it not affected the show but it’s inarguably made Gina’s story line much better.  Again I don’t think he’s smart enough to not try and do Portwell and then later Rina but he’s accidentally set up the Rina story line to quite easily slam the door permanently on them by having their conversation be closure for Gina who’s moved on and an apology from Ricky who never liked her back as much as Gina liked him.

Not looking forward to seeing Nini basically live out Olivia Rodrigo’s life in future seasons

Curious to see Carlos’ apology song to Seb. Ricky helping him with it is a great way to help start redeeming Ricky’s character in the audiences eye’s. According to Matt there is a bit of a Ricky/EJ rivalry this season and if it’s really happening the sleepover would be a good place to do it though I hope it’s not about Gina. 

Until next week wildcats.

[ceiling-karasu]

I noticed that the line art becomes blurry as well. But I figure if it is something simple I can copy/paste and then draw over it in another later, and then move/transform that around. If I made it, then tracing it should not be a problem, I think. As if I haven't considered using Jollin's torso as a base, lol. I have a specific layer for the muzzle mask that I simply have tagged 'mustache' that I plan to copy and paste and draw over in places.

Funny thing about originals, I accidentally hit 'reset' on the brush, so now I have no idea what size I've been using and may have to experiment for a few days.

I mean, I have three chapters written. I just need to get to a final draft that I would not mind posting. I just need to find the time for all of it. There's really quite a bit I feel like I have to edit/change/add, and it doesn't feel like I can release the chapters individually. So either this week or next week if we are lucky.

I mean in the picture I thought the eyes were greenish and bluish for the two of them, but they could look different on our screens.

We are trying to train one of the lab cytologists to help out since we apparently don't have the budget to hire anyone else. But, then again, they also didn't know I was coming until I was led into the lab during the interview. The hospital HR doesn't really communicate with us that much since we are technically a 'contract' office or sorts. I can go weeks without getting an email.

Anting, I forgot about anting (as in ant bathing). Squirrels and birds/ducks will bathe in ants because the ants and formic acid will apparently kill any mites they have.

Hedgehogs also have something called anting (as in anointing), but it is when during certain situations (usually stressful or when finding strange foods/objects but it isn't' fully understood) hedgehogs start hyper salivating and it gets into their quills if they aren't careful. So the sobbing and eye watering is on the mark perhaps.

I can see Dalnim getting confused (like I did) if he read about anting in a book and decided he needed to try it out. Especially if he thinks he has mites and previously tried to use something acidic like citrus on his skin or something. Although it is also kind of gross, but I feel like digging up buckets of ants is something that draws attention.

Fun fact though, it used to be thought that hedgehogs were huge rabies vectors because people kept seeing them staggering around while foaming at the mouth, seemingly hydrophobic. Which makes sense, in a way. An infected animal confused and biting anything that moves might bite a hedgehog (since the hedgehog might depend on its quills instead of running), and then wander off after being repelled by the quills. Which would leave the hedgehog alive but infected.

Turns out that most if not all of the sightings may have been hedgehogs just anting during quilling or discovering something unusual on the ground, and people saw the foaming and made an assumption. If they were using human food in traps I can see that happening if the hedgehogs had never seen the food before.

Personally, I liked Drugstore in Another World: The Slow Life of a Cheat Pharmacist, where a pharmacist gets Isekaied and goes off to create a pharmacy/doctors office (and some people think he's an alchemist) with his knowledge of plants and medicines. Although his new appraisal skill helps as well.

I'm not a fan of series that start off with kidnappings like The Apothecary Diaries (I say, as I create an entire AU centered around kidnappings important scientists and such), even if the later plot has seemed interesting, so I'll wait until the series is finished before picking it up.

I'm not sure if Twitter is a safe place to go, considering I have family members that still go to protests. I might like to check it out some day, but I only really know you, beetle, and stju87 are/were on there, and the posts are all protected so I can't preview anything.

Once I finish Lightning Rod I'll be getting more focused on OCs with mentions of canon characters, I would think. Except for the Cage of Eden/Sons of the Forest parody series, where I would probably have to mix OCs and canon characters.

Hello :))

Here's a small sketch of Siwoo (Haven't drawn this man in ages)

A quick explanation of the sketch:

The Raliaen Mountain Crescent Base doesn't have a formal financial department or anything related to it. Aera has tried to ask for a financial department to be established, but the Central government told her that they can't spare any for her as her base doesn't need one. Aera knows that's a lie since she and Hyeonsik are stuck maintaining the budgets and resource allocation of the base. Eventually, Aera is unable to keep up due to higher number of suspected enemy spies being reported. Hyeonsik hates to do anything related to finance beause he hates money (long story). So, he just gives them to Siwoo who had studied a bit of accounting before. Siwoo is genuinely still confused on why he is given the documents. Hyeonsik does actually give Siwoo a bonus for doing them, so Siwoo can't complain.

One of many reasons Siwoo needs coffee.

[miastideclock]

Stray Kids Reaction To Their Relationships Accidentally Going Public

@babybouille​ asked

Hi there ~ ! I saw that your request are open ? If possible can I please have a skz reaction for when their relationship with their s/o accidently goes public ? Thanks :)

-

Can do, love!

Word Count: 4,6k Warnings: sorry this took so long, not really a warning bUT YOU GET IT

Bang Chan

“What kind of spoiler? You will see it later. Recently what has everyone been up to these days? I’ve been working out a lot. Like, I’ve been eating salads. I want to build up my body-” Chan answered as he read the questions out loud.

Chan and Felix were sat on each their chair in Chan’s studio, talking to the fans via Chan’s weekly livestream. However, you had completely forgotten this. As you and Chan had been dating for almost six months, you probably should know this by now, but what can you do. 

You knocked gently before opening the door, instantly closing it back up when you saw what they were doing. Luckily, the camera was at such an angle that you couldn’t see the door. 

Chan jumped in his seat, as did Felix. “Hold on one moment you guys, I just need to mute our mic for a second.” The older Aussie spoke into the camera before clicking a few buttons. Chan then got out halfway out of frame, to the point where you could just see from the waist down on the left side of his body. From where he was standing, he could reach the door, so he opened it back up to find you standing there with a sheepish smile on your face. 

“I am so sorry! I completely forgot!” You instantly apologized to both your boyfriend and your friend. As you leaned gently to the side to see past Chan, Felix chuckled, waving it off saying it was an honest mistake. “Did anyone see me?”

Even though you and Chan had dated as long as you had, the public had yet to find out. Originally, Chan was under a strict dating-ban, but after a few weeks of convincing, the management agreed to let you date, but only if you kept it a secret, and if you worked at the company. That way no one would be suspicious of you entered and left the building at free will. 

“No, no one saw you babe- we’re good.” Chan chuckled and leaned forward to kiss you, jokingly making kissy noises as he came closer, mostly to gross out Felix, but also because the two of you genuinely found it funny to act like those super-gross couples. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m headed to the store, you boys want anything?” You asked, but as both the boys said no, their phones started vibrating like crazy. Felix grabbed his from the table they were sitting at, his face first confused, then a look of panic struck him. He instantly motioned for you and your boyfriend to be quiet as he grabbed the mouse and started clicking around the screen. He ended the live. 

“Mate. You didn’t mute yourself.” Felix breathed once Chan asked what all the commotion was about. Chan’s blood ran cold as he realized what that meant. You instantly pulled out your phone and went to the VLIVE app to see the ending of their stream, and sure enough. Kissy sounds, loving nicknames, Felix saying you were cute together. It was all there. 

“I guess we’re official then?” Chan sighed as he looked at you, scared of how you would react.

“Oh thank god!”

Lee Know

“You excited for the set tonight?” You asked softly as you sat on your boyfriends lap. He gently brushed his hands through your hair as he hummed a reply. 

“Yeah, it has been so long it feels like. But when you really do the math it really isn’t that bad.” Minho replied, the playing of your hair never stopping. You had enjoyed having your boyfriend to yourself for a while, but you knew how much he loved working and being on stage, so you didn’t mind giving him up to his members for a while.

You and Minho had been dating for about a year at this point, but you had yet to go public. The only people who knew were his members, and their management team. Or so you thought.

“Hyung, don’t kill me!” Seungmin ran over to the couch you were sat on in the greenroom, his make-up perfectly done and his outfit matching Minho’s. Minho sat up straighter, making you look up from where you had your face nuzzled into his chest. 

“Then don’t give me a reason?” Minho spoke, asking more than anything. Seungmin looked genuinely panicked, and you soon grew concerned for the boy. You had seen him get worried over dumb things before, but never like this. 

“I posted on Instagram. I didn’t see until I read the comments, but by then it was too late- I deleted it, but the fans are too fast.” He stumbled over his words and stuttered, almost as if he had just ran a marathon. 

“Seungmin, calm down. What was it about the picture?” Minho was now also concerned for the well-being of his member, genuinely worried he would have an anxiety attack. 

“You and Y/N are in it.” He breathed and showed you his phone. The screen showed his selfie, very cute picture. But if you zoomed in, you could see you and your boyfriend, cuddling, being mid-kiss. Unluckily for you, the quality was good enough to where you could definitely tell it was Minho. 

You inhaled a sharp breath of air, and instinctively looked to see Minho’s reactions- but it was impossible to read him. Was he happy? Stressed? Angry? Sad? Even with a gun to your head, you couldn’t give an answer. 

“I mean..” He started, not sounding very upset. “If it’s already out there, management can’t really force us to keep it a secret anymore, right?” He asked Seungmin what his opinion on the matter was, but he was at a loss for words. You had to side with Seungmin on this one, as it was a thing anyone would be angry at. 

When all Seungmin could do was stutter out inaudible sounds, Minho turned to one of the managers that had just entered the room. “Am I in trouble?” He asked calmly, and much to everyone's surprise, the manager shook his head. 

“No, but just meet with us in the conference room when we get back, so we can talk about where you can go and stuff.” He said, making you and Minho nod.

“That went well.”

Changbin

You smiled slightly as you smelled the freshly popped popcorn, the salty and buttery smell filling your nose. While humming gently to yourself as you poured the snacks out of the bag and into a bowl, bopping your head to the beat you heard in your head. “Blurry lines, yeah-yeah. So many, so many-” But you cut yourself off as you heard your show begin in the living room. You softly squealed and ran with the popcorn and your drink.

Your boyfriend Changbin and his group was going on a talk show, and you were so excited to see it. You always loved their live interviews as they always felt more charismatic when nothing was edited out.

“Tonight on Late Later Latest with Bentley™, Stray Kids! Welcome!” The host greeted the boys. They did their intro and got started. The host asked her usual questions, how promotion was going, how it felt being such an up-and-coming group etc etc. After the general questions, she asked more individual question, asking Minho about his dancing (Nat Geo), Felix and Chan about their life in Australia and so on. When she finally went to Changbin, you felt your heart beat proudly. 

You had originally asked management if you could come to the audience of the talk-show and watch, but they sadly denied your request as people might get suspicious. You and Changbin had been dating since forever, but the public didn’t know yet. Management had agreed to let you keep dating, but only if they could expose your relationship at any given moment for promotion purposes. At first you were disgusted with their demands, but you soon understood where they came from, and agreed. 

“So Changbin, what would you say motivates your writing the most?” The host asked, giving him a smile as she did so. 

Changbin nodded and answered, not giving his answer enough thought. “Well, mostly my girlf-” but he cut himself off. “uuh- my members? Maybe my fans?” He stumbled over his words, trying to hide his original answer, but it was too late.

“Were you gonna say girlfriend?” The host asked him in kind of a humoring tone. Changbin then sighed and nodded, this making you choke on your popcorn, sending a few pieces flying as you coughed. You did not expect him to expose your relationship for the whole world to see, this fine Thursday afternoon. 

“Yeah. I guess I have to come clean now, don’t I? Y/N, please don’t kill me.” He sheepishly smiled into the camera and gave you a slight wave, causing you to smile back at him and wave gently, not realizing he couldn’t see you. You then let your and fall into your lap as you giggled at your now public boyfriend.

Hyunjin

While almost skipping, you made your way down the hallway. Taking turn after turn and up and down hallways and staircases, you finally found what you had been looking for. The loud music gave it away instantly as you entered the room.

in the middle of the floor, looking at himself dancing in the mirror, stood your boyfriend Hyunjin. “Hi baby!” He grinned when he saw you stood there by the door. He stopped dancing and hurried over to you and picked you up to spin you around. “I missed you!”

You had been out of town for about three weeks, so it was with good reason he said what he did. 

“Am I interrupting anything?” You quickly asked, praying that he would say no. He shook his head while copying your grin, finally placing you back on the ground. You took that opportunity to get on your tippy-toes and give him a kiss.

You and Hyunjin had been dating for just under nine months at this point, and your relationship was still as blooming as if was only a few weeks ago you went on your first date. 

At first, you had been forbidden to date, as his idol-contract came with pretty serious and strict rules, but after sneaking around for about half a year, the company finally gave up and let you do whatever you wanted. Hyunjin’s managers were all surprised when you let them know that neither of you wanted to take the relationship public, at least not to begin with. So all the secrecy was completely your own ideas. Hyunjin’s members also agreed to keep you a secret for now, respecting you and Hyunjin’s decisions.

“Would they mind if I stole you for a day date? I was thinking maybe taking you on a picnic right now, and then after we could go to the fair?” You suggested, already having the picnic basket ready in your car parked outside.

“I already told them I would be occupied the day you came home. I just gotta send this to our editor, and he can work his magic or something!” Hyunjin let you know, letting go of your waist to run over to the camera propped up on a tripod. He had been filming a dance practise, something he did every once in a while. 

He clicked the camera and then sat down on the floor next to the laptop the camera was wired to, clicking a few more buttons. After that he cleared out the room, and you were on your way. 

The date was nice, you and Hyunjin catching up, even though you had spoken on the phone every single night while you were away. However, mid-date, Hyunjin got a phone call from his leader. As it was just Chan, he put it on speaker so you could listen in too.

“Hyung! What’s up?” He asked casually, after he had placed the phone back down on the blanket. 

“Hyunjin- did you mean to post that? Cause if yes- hella cute. If not? I’m so sorry, mate.” Bang Chan’s voice was slightly static as he was talking through a phone after all, but that wasn’t what made his statement confusing. 

“What are you talking about?” Both you and Hyunjin said at the same time.

“Oh, Y/N, fitting that you’re here too. But you posted the uncut version of your dance practice to our VLIVE instead of sending it to the editor. Everything is there.. Everything.” He spoke slowly, trying to make sure you and your boyfriend truly understood the consequences.

You looked over at Hyunjin for a second, him being just as confused as you were- all before he looked like he had touched a hot plate, his face lighting up in a grimace. 

“You! You’re in the video! We kiss! And say dating! sHIT-” He started panicking. 

“Baby- slow down. I don’t care if you don’t. Maybe it was time for us to go public anyways- we couldn’t have kept it a secret the rest of our lives, right? I love you, you love me- we can do this.” You spoke in a tone to try to calm him down.

“Yeah, I do love you. We’ll figure it out.” He replied after letting out a sigh of relief. You then leaned in to kiss him but was cut off by someone you had forgotten long ago.

“Awwww, you guys! That was so cu-” BEEP. Hyunjin quickly hung up on Chan even though he was mid-sentence, going back to kissing you.

Han

“Please don’t ever get a mustache.” You chuckled as you gently stroked the fake beard glued to your boyfriends upper lip. He chuckled as he returned the favor, gently pulling on your fake grandma-glasses.

“I would say the same about your outfit, but I don’t know. This whole grandma look is growing on me.” He joked, you swatting away his hand as he did so. 

“You’re weird.” You laughed at him.

You were currently sat in a boot at a restaurant, trying to enjoy a good meal with your boyfriend. As you still weren’t known to the public yet, despite having dated for almost a year- you had to play dress up. 

You were sat in a dated dress you could find in any grandmother's closet, matched with a shawl draped over your head and granny glasses, covering as much of your face as possible. Your other half was in a suit, distorting his true body-type, a fake mustache and a hat. 

“I don’t know, I preferred the costume where you dressed as a woman.” You snickered, making Jisung roll his eyes and chuckle with you. 

This was in no way shape or form the first time you had dressed up to go out, but it had been some time since the last time you did it. His company didn’t necessarily have anything against your dating, as long as you kept it lowkey. You could go public if you so wished, but if you did- you couldn’t go on dates on massively crowded spots. 

“I liked the one where you were not only a man, but a biker!” Jisung cackled at that one. But before he could say anything else, you both noticed a flash of light in the distance. Your first thought was lightning, but as you were inside a shopping centre, you doubted it.

As you both turned to the source of the light, you saw not only one, but two paparazzis standing by the entrance of the restaurant, taking your pictures.

You then quickly looked up at each other, and then making a run for the door, trying to hide your faces as much as you could. 

Once you made it outside, Jisung grabbed your hand as you still ran, trying to drag you after him. You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, as it would have to look ridiculous to anyone else. An old couple running at full speed down the shopping mall, as if they were being chased by the police? Iconic. 

Your laugh soon infected Jisung causing him to laugh too, one hand on his hat, the other in yours.

Felix

“Okay, so- No! I’m not impostor- I’m down by electrical!” Felix defended himself as he spoke into the mic, discussing with the other players on Discord.

Felix was twitch streaming as he and some of his personal friends played Among Us. They also opted to use Discord rather than the chat that came with the game, when they were discussing. 

“Nah, Felix sus! You know you can vent from electrical to medbay, and then you’re in cafeteria in two seconds, giving you plenty of time to kill cyan, and then leave!” One of his friends argued, prompting you to say something. 

“No, I saw Felix do a garbage-task earlier, he safe.” You backed him. You hadn’t actually seen him to a task, but he seemed like he needed some help. 

You loved playing with Felix and his friends, but you preferred it when they weren’t Twitch streaming. You were always scared to mess up, or let words slip. Words like babe, honey, or boyfriend. As you and your boyfriend Felix had decided to let the world think you were only friends, it made things a bit more difficult, gaming wise. 

You had been dating for just over half a year at this point. His idol-company had asked you to date in secret for a while, just to see if it would work out before you announced it to the world- something you completely understood, as it was quite a mess to clean if you had a nasty break.

However, the past few weeks, you and Felix found yourself catching yourself almost revealing it by accident. At this point, you found it tiresome to keep the secret, wanting to spread it to the world so you could adore your boyfriend in public. 

“Oh damn. Unless Felix and Y/N are impostor together!” Felix’s friend tried once again, but just as you had done previously you defended both you and your boyfriend.

“Eject confirmations are on. Danny was clearly the other impostor you dimwit.” You chuckled into your mic, making him groan.

“No, sorry- you’re right. Sorry Felix.” He apologized, prompting Felix to thank you for backing him, but along those lines, a certain word accidentally slipped his lips.

“Thanks, babe.” 

As soon as the words had left his lips, the chat grew quiet, no one knowing if they were allowed to speak, or if Felix wanted to try and save his mistake. One of your monitors showed Felix’s stream which also happened to show his stream-chat, it going completely nuts.

xxemogirlxx: DID HE SAY BABE?

changbinishawt: IS Y/N HIS GIRLFRIEND?

falixlaa: omg i knew they were dating

And so on, and so forth. You found yourself in complete shock as you leaned back in your chair, your mouth wide open. 

“Oh, screw it. Yes, Y/N is my girlfriend, and we’ve been together for a while. I’m also impostor while we’re at it.” He said, the relief in his voice prominent. As he spoke the last words, he ran over to his friend in MedBay and killed him, finishing the game.

The discord went crazy, all eight of Felix and you’s friends rioting.

“How does it feel being completely out to the world, Y/N?” You were asked by Danny.

“Feels great.”

Seungmin

“I’m really sorry, I’m already late for the meeting!” Your boyfriend, Seungmin apologized as he repeatedly kissed your cheeks, nose and forehead, finally landing on your lips. 

“Go on! Have fun, and say hi to the boys from me would you?” You giggled and tried to squirm your way out of his hug. He finally released you, but not fully as he slid his hands down your arms and intertwined your fingers, slowly stepping away as he did so. 

“Of course! Love you.” He smiled as he finally let go of your hand, but kept his walk backwards. 

You were inside the company building at this point, so you didn’t need to worry if anyone saw you. You smiled at him and waved slightly until he turned a corner and was out of sight. 

You and Seungmin had been dating for exactly six months, it being the reason for your date- to celebrate your anniversary. The company did have some words to say about your relationship in the beginning, but after a while they backed off and let you have your fun. 

Once you were sure he was gone, you made your way out of the building and down to the bus-stop waiting for the next scheduled bus. Two girls were sat at the bus-stop already, waiting for the same bus as you probably. They seemed to have a weird look at you, but you ignored it 

Maybe they had seen you and Seungmin enter the building! or maybe you just had gum on your pants? You decided to not give it too much thought. It was only a two minute wait, so before you knew it, you had your headphones plugged in and your phone in your hand. You were about to press the Spotify app, but soon noticed you had received a notification from VLIVE a few minutes ago.

You grew confused as the title didn’t mention any specific members hosting the live, but you clicked it nonetheless. 

Your headphones were soon filled with the cheers and rioting of your boyfriends band members, having the time of their lives as some sat on the couch, and some on the floor. You did however fail to spot Seungmin in the crowd, making you a tad bit confused, but reckoned there was a reason for it. A reason you and about 1.2 million others soon found out.

Just as the boys calmed down and Minho opened his mouth to talk, the door at the very left of the screen opened and revealed a distressed Seungmin. 

“Sorry I’m late, I was on my anniversary date with Y/N-” He started, not realizing the live had already started. The boys tried to save him as they started yelling once they saw where the sentence was going, but it was too late.

You felt your heart drop as you moved faster than lightning to tap the screen so you could see the comments. They were going crazy, everyone trying to figure out who you were, and if they had seen you before. 

“Damn it. Well, sorry STAY- I do in fact have a girlfriend, and we would much appreciate it if you didn’t go trying to look for her, or harass her in any comment section. Thank you.” Seungmin asked directly to the camera, the comments instantly flooding with nothing but love and support for their faves and their significant others. 

After the live was over, you found yourself smiling to yourself, happy that no one came with any mean comments. 

As you were on your way to collect your bag and push the stop button on the bus, you accidentally made eye-contact with the two girls who were sharing headphones. They looked you up and down once more before their eyes lit up, almost if they realized. 

Fear instantly washed over you, but it was soon gone as they raised their hands and waved and sent you little finger hearts, showing that they supported you. You softly waved back and stepped off the bus.

I.N

You were walking around a store downtown, minding your own business, having taken yourself out on a date. Your boyfriend, Jeongin was unable to join you as he had an early morning practice. You didn’t mind though, it had been a while since you got some time to yourself.

You and Jeongin had officially been dating for ten months circa, meaning you were already well into the relationship. His managers never really had anything against it as you seemed to follow all the company rules anyways. 

Looking at the items in the thrift-shop you were in, a ring caught your eye, instantly making you think of Jeongin. You decided to give him a call to see if the ring was something he liked, and if you should bring it home for him. 

The ringing of the FaceTime was short before he picked up, lighting up the whole screen with his massive smile. “Hi babe!” He beamed. You quickly greeted him and asked if he was busy. When he revealed he had a few minutes to spare, you flipped the camera so he could see what you were looking at.

“I saw this ring and thought it would suit you so well! It’s not too bold, and just large enough to make a statement. Would you wear it if I bought it for you?” You asked him as you showed him every angle of the ring, even how it looked on you. 

“Oh I love it! It would go well with so many outfits too. You really know your stuff.” He complimented and chuckled. You spoke for a few more minutes before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Excuse me?” You whipped around as they spoke to you, the voice belonging to a girl around maybe fourteen years old. You gently placed the screen of your phone against your stomach, not necessarily to hide your boyfriends face, but to be respectful towards the person you spoke to.

“Can I help you?” You asked as politely as you could. The girl soon waved over her friends who were scattered around the store, making them all step over to you.

“How do you know our oppa?” The first girl asked, almost sounding angry as she spoke. You shot her a confused glance, genuinely not knowing what she was talking about.

“I’m sorry- do I know you?” You asked, in case it was the little sister of one of your friends.

“No, you don’t. But I saw your phone and you are talking to our I.N-oppa!” She was almost throwing a tantrum at this point, and you had no idea what to say or do. You tried stuttering out a reply, but you found your mouth gaping and closing, like the one of a fish. 

Muffles sounds suddenly came from your stomach, making both you and the girl look to your phone. You gently pulled it back out so you could see the screen. “Y/N, babe! Let me talk to them okay?” He suggested, having heard the entire conversation. You turned your phone around, but you didn’t let the girl hold it on her own, scared that she would run off with it. 

“Hi! Nice to meet you! I’m Jeongin, and this lovely girl you are talking to is a good friend of mine, so I would really love it if you stopped being upset with her, and rather left her alone, okay?” Jeongin spoke to the girls, trying his best to come across as kind and sweet, even though he hated how they had treated you. 

“Of course! But.. Is she your girlfriend?” The main girl asked, causing you to shake your head no, at the same time Jeongin sighed and confirmed you were. You felt your breath hitch and a smile creep up on your face.

“She is, but since we’re best friends now, you guys won’t tell anyone right?” He continued in the same baby-ing voice. Almost all of the girls agreed. All but one.

“Too late? I am so sorry!” She started sheepish, and ended in a panic. Apparently she had been filming the conversation and instead of stopping the filming when Jeongin asked them to keep it a secret, she had stumbled and uploaded it to twitter istead. Posting it to her hundreds and thousands of followers already. 

Both you and Jeongin stood there silently for a second before you flipped the phone around and agreed that you should stop by the company building to do some damage control.

“I’ll see you there. Love you, bye.” You said and hung up. You gave the girls a half-assed smile and picked up the ring to go pay.

That took so long I am genuinely so so so so so sorry x

I hope you liked it tho!

-Bentley

[hitoshiikigai]

Foreign Feelings

anon request: Hiya there Sen!! I love your blog and i would love to read more of your writings. Can i request an imagine for being like a first year european shy student and becoming Nekoma’s manager, she slowly develops a crush for kenma but doesn’t know how to express her feelings because of language and because she thinks kenma won’t return her feelings

‪(o_ _)ﾉ彡☆ a/n 「i made it gender neutral, i hope that's ok and if it's not, i can change it to your liking! also, this is my first romance fic in my whole life, i hope it's satisfactory(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ i feel like i just forgot the slowly part-」

‪pronouns used: they/them

‪word count: 2.8k

You continuously repeat your introduction in your head as you wait for your turn. It's ok, you can do this, you've learnt this in basic Japanese lessons, it's just a few lines. Nothing too complicated!

The voice of the person behind you breaks the chant in your mind, "I'm Haiba Lev and..." Your thoughts block out the rest of his introduction. Is he a foreigner too? That name definitely does not sound Japanese but you note of his perfect pronunciation- a screech of a chair moving startles you and you're suddenly aware of the eyes of your new classmates staring right at you.

Sucking in a deep breath, you stand up, doing a bow, the Japanese words tumbling clumsily out of your mouth, "I'm (Y/N) (L/N)- no wait- (L/N) (Y/N), please just call me (y/n). Nice to meet all of you." You keep your eyes on your desk as you bow once again before sitting back down. You pretend not to notice the murmurs and sounds of interest about the two foreign students in their class, busying yourself by preparing your things for the lesson.

Mechanical pencil on the right. Pencil case right above your notebook. The ruler-

"Psst... Hey, you're not from Japan, right?" You turn around to meet glowing green eyes that somehow made you feel like you were looking into a cat's eyes instead. You nod and he grins in what you could guess as excitement. However, before he could say any more, he was cut off by the teacher signalling the start of class.

Maybe he's a potential friend?

After a few lessons of trying to keep up with the lessons taught in Japanese, your brain's finally granted with a break from trying to translate and you can't help the sigh that escapes you as you rest your cheek on your table, closing your eyes.

"Hey Y/N! Wanna have lunch with me?" You open your eyes to see your tall classmate looming over you- right, his name's Lev. Or should you call him Haiba?

You quickly weigh the pros and cons of eating with him. He seems like a nice person to be friends with and having a non-Japanese friend in this less-than-familiar country could definitely do you some good, maybe your Japanese can improve faster as well. But... you were planning to just find some nice quiet spot to listen to music in hopes of preventing the growing headache, a result of an overwhelming first day.

Well, there's no harm, you suppose... "Sure, I don't mind," you agree and you search for your wallet in your bag as Lev waits patiently.

Once he sees you're ready, he smiles widely and starts walking to the cafeteria most likely and you follow him, having to walk slightly faster to keep up.

"Where are you from? I'm half-Russian but I can't speak Russian. Oh! I know a few people here already! I visited the school before the school year started and made friends with people from the volleyball team. I'm actually gonna join the team once they start taking in applicants and-" Lev rambles on and you could only hum or nod, insert a few words of your own when he asks a question until you reach the cafeteria.

"Lev! Here! You're late!" You see a student with black messy hair that spikes up everywhere except for the fringe that covers his right eyes waving his arm. Lev bounds up to the table with you in tow and you can already see a few curious eyes examining you. Your gaze sweeps across the table, an uninterested guy playing with a switch catching your eyes a tiny fraction longer than the others before you look down at the floor, shuffling just a bit behind Lev, your current shield.

"This is Y/N, my new friend! They're not from Japan and I thought I could show them around," Lev claps his hands on your shoulders and moves you forward, putting you right in the spotlight.

Oh no. Ok, deep breaths. A simple introduction, no big deal. It's definitely a smaller group, better than a whole class.

"H-hi..." You clear your throat, cursing yourself mentally for the stutter, and repeat yourself with what you hope was a stronger voice. There's a chorus of greetings and before you even realise, you find yourself squished between Lev and a friendly-looking guy with a buzzcut, who you soon come to know as Kai, after a round of introductions.

How did you end up here? In a gym full of flying balls that could accidentally hit your face anytime? With your arms full of water bottles that you just filled up? You definitely did not sign up for this... Ok, well technically you did, you just didn't know what was in store. Try being a manager just for one practice, they said. Somehow, it feels like you were tricked somewhere along the line.

You hand the water bottles to the boys, jolting slightly when your hand unintentionally brushes against Kenma's. He thanks you quietly and you only nod in acknowledgment, avoiding any form of eye-contact with him and quickly moving on to hand the rest of the water bottles out before going back to the sidelines to watch.

It's really amazing watching them play. Everyone seems so coordinated with each other and the teamwork is seamless. Despite that, there are a few individuals that pique your interest: Yaku who seems to be able to teleport anywhere in the court, Lev with his tall and powerful stature, and more importantly, Kenma with his smart plays. It's like he calls the game, dictating where and how the ball goes and it's a whole experience observing him. Of course, the other members are amazing in their own ways, watching the team play is like watching a well-oiled machine working.

"How are you, Y/N?" Kai asks from beside you, wiping his sweat and giving you a warm smile.

You peel your eyes away from the quiet setter to answer Kai, and also to make sure you aren't caught staring at the certain player, "It's..." You try to find the correct words in your brain as Kai waits patiently for your answer. "It's nice... to watch. Everyone's good." You blush in embarrassment at the simple words you used, not having the full vocabulary to communicate what you really want to say. Kai, being the angel he is, makes a noise of approval and gives another warm smile which at least make you relax.

"If you need help with anything, you can ask any of us," he tells you before going back to the courts. You bow to him which he only waves off, laughing amiably.

After attending a few more practice sessions and having lunch with the team almost every break, you've grown a bit more comfortable with them, especially with Kai and Yaku, along with Lev. The team always tried their best to use simpler words whenever they spoke to you and you're definitely grateful for their efforts. However, there's just one person you've barely interacted with:

Kozume Kenma.

The third years obviously noticed the lack of interaction, especially Kuroo and he made it his own personal mision to try to get the two of you to talk to each other more, albeit with many difficulties.

"Come on, Kenma. You don't think I don't notice you paying attention anytime Y/N talks? You're not exactly very slick, you always pause your games just for Y/N," Kuroo nudges Kenmas side with his elbow which Kenma slaps away in irritation.

"Shut up Kuroo."

Kuroo leans in closer to Kenma, "You can't tell me you don't notice Y/N staring at you during practice? Blushing whenever you're 5 metres away from each other? Or when-"

"Kuroo, please just shut up," Kenma groans and glares at his switch, clicking away at the buttons and suppressing the urge to scream in anger as the words 'GAME OVER' flash on the screen. Instead, he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply before letting out a long sigh.

Kuroo smiles knowingly before his eyes shift over to something behind Kenma.

"Kuroo-senpai? Kenma-senpai? Has Kai-san arrived yet? I need to ask him something..." Kenma stiffens as your soft voice reaches his ears. He bristles at the 'senpai' title attached to his name, wanting you to just rid of the honorific altogether. He was supposed to tell you, in fact, he had been wanting to tell you to just refer to him casually just like everyone does but he never got the chance. How could he when your conversations only last 30 seconds long each time?

Jump. Jump. Duck. Ju- GAME OVER.

He pressed down his buttons more aggressively, a frown slowly forming on his face. Why couldn't he be more talkative? Why is talking so hard? Why is talking to YOU so hard? Lev does it so easily, Kai too, and Yaku and... and just everyone in the team but him.

You stare in concern as you watch Kenma play angrily with his game and you look to Kuroo for answers only to be met with a shrug.

"Yaku will be running late, some class meeting or something," Kuroo stands up and stretches, walking out of the gym, "Meanwhile, I'll go get my things."

The sounds from Kenma's game filled up the awkward silence and you take a moment to steel yourself, walking towards Kenma. "A-are you okay, Kenma-senpai? You look... angry?" At your question, Kenma's fingers still and the sounds suddenly stopped.

Kenma looks up at you and places his switch on his lap before looking away. "I'm okay... I'm not angry." He mumbles and you smile in relief at his words. "Do you want to play?" He suddenly offers his switch to you and you blink in shock, never really having known or seen him to ever share his switch with someone, simply rejecting anyone- save for that tangerine boy from another school- who tried to even get their hands on his beloved switch.

Noticing your hesitance, he places the gadget on the bench, between the two of you, letting you take your time. You look back to search for anything that will clue you in if he doesn’t actually want to do this, but finding none, you gingerly take it, careful not to drop it or at least try to not leave any embarrassingly sweaty fingerprints. You feel Kenma shifting closer to you to get a closer look at the screen and you don’t know if you feel lightheaded from him being the closest he has ever been that you can actually feel body heat radiating from him or from forgetting to breathe. Trying to focus on the little digital character instead and your fingers clumsily hitting the buttons, a contrast to the way his nimble fingers moved with muscle memory.

And if you felt butterflies in your stomach as he occasionally positioned your fingers on the correct button, the butterflies immediately flew away the moment Lev walks in the gym and you were left with just tingling fingers.

You cradle the box of apple pie you bought in a rush from the bakery, trying to tidy up the ribbon you tied around it to make it more presentable. You had asked Kai about what Kenma liked because you knew there was no way you could write or even say anything close to romantic in Japanese, so you figured out you could give him little gifts, you know, actions soeak louder than words, that kinda thing? As you think of the many ways you could say something wrong by declaring your feelings to him in a foreign tongue like unknowingly saying something ridiculous, or stupid, or even worse, something dirty! Lev’s incessant teasing and mock-kissing noises only stopped when you reached the gym.

“Oh? Y/N-chan, who’s that apple pie for, I wonder,”Kuroo gives you a knowing look and blatantly stares at Kenma, who just seems unbothered. You try to reason yourself that he was only concentrating on his game. Ignoring Kuroo, you take a tentative step towards Kenma, making sure you’re in his line of sight before thrusting the box to him, “For you Kenma… Uh, enjoy it!” You blurted out before brisk walking to the equipment room to take refuge, not even waiting for his reaction.

You hear the muffled shouts of the boys and you can imagine them crowding Kenma. You wince in sympathy.

During the whole practice, you had to deflect the many looks and questions the boys gave you. Thankfully, Kai managed to stop them before it got too much. A godsend. Before any of them could corner you after practice, you zoomed past the gym doors the moment you were done with your manager duties, forgetting that you had barely paid any attention to Kenma the whole time.

“Lev, do you know who’s this from?” You ask Lev, holding up the canned drink that was left on your table.

“Oh, that’s from Kenma. He came here earlier to place it there. He honestly could’ve just asked me to pass it to you but he said I would lose it or something. How mean,” Lev huffs but you can only focus on the fact that Kenma went through efforts to make sure you received it.

“Thank you for the apple pie yesterday. It was really nice,” Kenma took a seat beside you, on the same bench you first played his switch together.

“T-thank you for the drink! It’s my favourite,” you smile shyly. The corner of his lips curl up, just ever so slightly, which you think was the trick of the light.

Kenma gives his switch to you, now a weekly routine for the both of you on days he finishes class earlier. The distance between you and him grew smaller and smaller until your elbows brush against his at any slight movement.

This is it. This is the moment. You made a mental deal with yourself a week ago. If you win this level today, the one where you always lose, you’ll confess to him and if you don’t, you’ll simply leave your feelings hidden and buried deep in the safe in your heart.

Your eyebrows furrow in concentration, refusing any help from Kenma (Kenma just ignored the tiny sting in his heart when you did).

In the meantime, Kenma takes the chance to watch you, sharp, feline eyes studying your features. The stray baby hairs peeking out after a long school day, the slight sheen on your skin from the hot and humid gym, the determination in your eyes. Determination? To beat the level? He restrains himself from chuckling at your cuteness. This felt very different when he watches Shouyo play his video games. Kenma just really feels different any time he’s around you.

You abruptly stand up and cheer, “I did it! Kenma, look!” You show him the screen with the words ‘MISSION COMPLETE’ flashing repeatedly on the screen. You grinned widely at him and he smiles back in fondness.

Suddenly, you go all quiet, which concerned Kenma. “I have something to tell you.” At that, he tilts his head, urging for you to go on.

“I… IlikeyouKenma!” Your words end up being stringed together but from the widening of his eyes, he mostly likely understood.

“You do?”

You nod with pink dusting your cheeks, your fingers fiddling with the ends of your blouse. You’re prepared to get rejected, maybe even move back to Europe and never show your face to him again. And if not, at least you could quit the manager position to avoid any future confrontations with him.

“I like you too, Y/N,” he replies softly, but it was definitely audible in the quiet gym.

And if all else fails- wait what? This time, it’s your turn to look at him wide-eyed, processing what he just said.

“Y/N! Did you leave me for your boyfriend?!” The doors burst open with Lev boisterously shouting, Yaku walking calmly behind him with a twitching eyebrow.

You backpedal away from Kenma, dropping the switch in surprise and you scramble to pick it up, saying a stream of apologies to him, wiping away the dust and checking for any cracks.

Yaku, being more aware of the mood, kicks the back of Lev’s knees, adding a smack to the back of the head for good measure, hissing, “Shut up, you idiot!”

You make eye contact with Kenma before bursting into giggles, him just letting out a snort. You’re just glad you managed to confess before Lev could confess for you.

[1 New Message]

Kenma: wanna beat the next level after practice? you can come over to my house for dinner

You: yes! i’d love to!

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

Hundreds of academic studies have been dedicated to observing those who are cursed with a toxic reliance on alcohol or illegal substances. Yet, not many have considered to conflate infatuation with addiction, and so the question that remains is… can one become addicted to a person? To their smile? To their laugh…? Further, it is not uncommon for addicts to substitute one addiction with another to relieve anxiety or stress. Perhaps that was why had become obsessed with distractions. The form of the distraction held little significance to you. Whether it was spending ever spare second outside of the emptiness of your apartment or burning your emotions with the poison of the night.

Your craving to escape reality can easily be traced back to three months ago when your primary addiction was no longer within reach.

Since the beginning of your relationship it was no secret that you were infatuated with the younger twin and his affections. Hanamaki once humourlessly commented that you were oddly obsessed with him, but it was just love. Pure, unconditional love.

And when you were no longer able to drown in him – in the love he offered in return, it was only natural that you sought to fill the emptiness with something else, despite the cost.

Now, when Bokuto originally instructed you to wait at the café for him, you intended on abiding without complaint. Except with the buzz of the champagne slowly fading, you were compelled to sustain the haze enveloping your thoughts. Caffeine would not provide you the fix you required, nor would the bottle of water, clutched in your right hand.

With a palm resting against your cheek, you shifted your gaze to the window, seeking the remedy to the hollowness returning to you.

“Oh. I forgot about that.” The comment mumbled under your breath was referring to the establishment located in the building directly beside yours. It was a small pub that you had passed by on countless nights. Glimmering illuminations framed the storefront, naturally drawing your attention to it; and the neon sign plastered against the window could not have been any more inviting. Each second that passed increased your desire to leave the café, as the dazzling colours sung out to you, summoning you to them.

It was not that you desired to disobey your friend’s instructions – it was simply that you yearned to join the lights, as they were offering you something you could not refuse. Bokuto would message you once he left the apartment, anyway. The few minutes it would take for him to return to the ground level would provide you enough time to return to the café. It was a concrete plan, at least that was the lie you comforted yourself with.

**

As you entered the establishment, the illumination drawing you there had become quite blinding. To battle the sudden strain on your eyes, you squinted, scrunching up your features in the process. The overload of your senses only continued as the speaker located to your right, blasted an unfamiliar melody, welcoming you to a party you were not meant to attend. You considered retreating the few steps advanced into the pub, but then you caught a whiff of an unknown liquor and it persuaded you to stay.

Silently, you proceeded towards the bar, ignoring the quizzical expressions tossed in your direction. The designer clothes gifted to you from your employer did not suit the ambiance of the pub, and it did not help that you were blinking excessively. Your struggle to adjust to the light could have easily been misinterpreted as the side effects of consuming an illegal substance. But you could care less what some random individuals thought about you.

The bartender flashed you a hospitable smile once you took a seat on the barstool, she did not seem to harbour any incorrect assumptions. Instead, she seemed to catch onto the strain over your mascara coated eyelids, something you realized when she issued an apology.

“It’s really bright, I know. It’s like the freakin’ sun, am I right?” The apologetic laughter exhaled by the mixologist radiated an energy that reminded you of someone… Though you could not pinpoint who. “Anyway, honey. What can I get ya?” After placing a napkin in front of you, she removed a glass from the pyramid behind her. The way she curved her eyebrow communicated that she was expecting an interesting order, most likely because of your attire.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having.” Crossing your arms over the wooden counter, you leaned forward with a toothy grin prior to motioning towards the girl seated beside you. “Because it looks like it’ll kill me and I am here for it.” Accompanying your words was a little wink, one that brought the older woman to laugh once more.

“Oh, that’s funny. Because that drink is called poisoned by love. It’s our newest addition.” Your answer satisfied her and communicated volumes about your reason for visiting. She made a mental note to observe you closely for the night, vulnerability and alcohol were a deadly mix, after-all.

“Poisoned by love… Cute. I’ll have two.” The number was illustrated by a peace sign, one that landed upon your cheek with accidental force. Yet you played it off, forcing the smile to remain attached to your mouth.

The sloppiness of the action engaged the bartender’s internal alarms. There was no way in hell she would be serving you anything beyond the drink she was in the process of concocting.

“Let’s start with one honey. Whatever kick you’re losing; I assure you that one of these babies will bring it back.” A nod of affirmation was applied to her head as she presented the final product to you, before settling it onto the napkin. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to see how you’re doing.”

The impact of the mixture did not require five minutes to activate. Two minutes into consuming the drink, one of the patrons beside you informed you that it was not meant to be downed in one motion. That would have been useful advice if it were provided before you chugged the liquid, unaware of the consequences that would follow.

At three minutes you understood the warnings issued by the barkeep, as you were stripped of any grip on reality. Glancing down at your hands, you tilted your head curiously at the injured one, trying to remember how it occurred. When the bartender returned to check up on you, upon seeing your brows knitted in confusion, she recommended you close your eyes for the remaining two minutes. Poisoned by love was particularly potent for the first five minutes if consumed in one go.

The initial high of the alcohol dimmed substantially after the five-minute mark, and soon your memories were returned to you. Brushing your fingers against your forehead, a growl was caught in your throat.

“I can see you’re feeling better.” She quickly removed the empty glass from ahead of you, making no suggestion that she would replace it with a second one. “I think this is also when I tell you that we have a rule against drinkin’ and textin’.” Too preoccupied by the phone within your grasp, you paid little attention to her remarks. It was quite obvious that you were plotting something with your newfound courage.  

“You don’t.” Your attention was torn away from the bright screen for only a second, to squint at the woman in disbelief.

“Maybe not… but it’s not a good idea.” Caught in a lie, she raised her hands then blew out a sigh. But you did not acknowledge the gesture, with your gaze returning to the device instantly.

“On the contrary, I think it’s a phenomenal idea…”

Let’s do it again, shall we -  poisoned by love 

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: I am upset rn, NO ONE LOOK AT ME. the fact my finger slipped and I posted half of this earlier - UGH. bad fucking luck. ANYWAY. >:( If there are mistakes in this, it is because I can’t concentrate enough to edit them. >:( 

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[onlydreamofmysoul]

The Prize (Ficmas #3)

The gymnastics au is here!!!! I’d love to revisit sometime and make it a multi-chaptered thing but for now... here we go!!!!!!

(This one is just wolfstar, it’s not set in the SW or C2C worlds :))

Remus looked up from where he was chalking up his grips to see Sirius just beginning a run up on the track. He let his eyes follow the other man for a moment as he took a couple of powerful strides before launching himself into a series of flips and somersaults, sticking his landing beautifully.

“Damn,” Lily whistled from his side. “He’s looking good this year.”

Isn’t he always, Remus thought, but he didn’t say that of course. Instead he just nodded. “Yeah, he’ll be tough competition, that’s for sure.”

“At least you’ll be competing as a team as well as individually.” Lily pointed out. “So hey, guess you can use him.”

Remus smirked and rolled out his shoulders before walking back to his bar, jumping to catch it before pulling his body up and around in a circle so he could support himself with his arms while his waist rested against the bar.

“You better get back to A-bar before McGonagall comes to find you again.”

Lily shuddered. “Yeah, damn she’s already salty that I forgot my chalk, she’ll murder me if I stay here too long.”

Remus chuckled as she walked off before taking a breath to refocus himself and setting back to work. 

He was trying to perfect his dismount - a triple back tuck, but no matter what he was trying, he kept seeming to land on his ass. He grit his teeth, annoyed that his coach was missing today. He had a stand in of course, but the new kid Peter had never coached anyone at Remus’ level and was really just there to put safety mats in place when Remus needed them mid routine. He was just setting up the iPad to record (if no one was teaching him, then damn he would try to do it himself), when Sirius wandered up to his side.

“Want me to take a look?”

Remus nodded. “Please,” He glanced over at Peter, lowering his voice, “He’s nice and all but…”

“He doesn’t know shit.” Sirius finished and they both laughed. “Yeah I know, he was working with me a few days ago.”

Remus got back on the bar and immediately set into his rotations, ignoring his routine and just circling the bar a couple of times before his dismount. When he let go he tucked in tight, pulling his knees into his body as his chin tucked into his chest, tumbling once, twice, three times before… falling back on his arse.

He flopped back on the mat, covering his face with his forearm for a moment. “Ugh I swear this is gonna kill me.”

He could hear Sirius’ smirk, but he peeked at the other man anyway because damn, if he didn’t like that smile. “You’re actually pretty close.”

“Yeah?” He asked, standing up again. 

“Yeah, c’mere I recorded it so you can see.”

They stood much closer than polite societal rules would usually expect, Remus getting to use the excuse of watching the iPad. Remus watched himself on the screen, it started okay, his swings were good, he had enough power between them and then-

“Oh.” He said. “I’m letting go too early.”

Sirius grinned up at him. “Yeah! I wasn’t sure if you’d see it, but yeah that’s your issue. You only need to hold on maybe half a second later.”

Remus bit his lip, trying to figure out how the hell he would work that out. Time measurements were never quite his thing. Sirius seemed to get that though and instead pointed up at the ceiling. 

“You’re letting go here.” He said, pointing at a 45 degree angle. You need to let go when your toes point up there.” Moving his hand so his arm made more of a 60 degree shape. 

Remus nodded and smiled. “Yeah that makes more sense.” He chalked up his hands again and got back on the bar. He always liked dismounts. They had never been his strongest feature, but they were often his favourite. The feeling was about as close to flying as humans could come. He really focused as he swung this time, envisioning the place he’d let go with every rotation. On the fourth swing, he let go, feeling himself fly higher into the air than he ever had today. He tucked in, already knowing it was going to work before his feet landed on the mat, without even a little stumble. 

“Oh my god!” He exclaimed, beaming at Sirius. “Thank you!”

Sirius smiled and made a gesture that looked like he was going to run his fingers through his hair before realising his hair was tied up. “No bother.”

He glanced back at the track. “I should uh, probably get back.”

Remus smiled at him ruefully. “Probably. Hey, thanks again.”

Sirius winked at him cheekily. “Anytime.”

A week later Remus was just finishing on vault when Sirius came up. 

“Hey, do you mind if I join?”

Remus looked up at the sound of the other man’s voice and smiled. “Yeah of course. I’m just finished anyways so it’s all yours.”

Remus wasn’t sure if it was just him or if Sirius actually looked a little disappointed at that. 

“Oh yeah, cool.” He looked down and pointed at the springboard. “Mind if I change that?”

Remus shook his head. “Work away.”

Sirius grinned and grabbed the equipment, pulling it several inches closer to the vault. 

“Is that close enough for you?” Remus teased. 

Sirius looked up at him, a strand of hair falling in front of his eyes as he made sure the board was at the right measurement. “Oh fuck off, it’s not my fault you’re freakishly tall.”

“Hey, six foot two is not ‘freakishly tall’! You’re just freakishly short.” He protested. 

Sirius stood up, a good head shorter than Remus. “And five foot ten isn’t freakishly short.” He opposed, his bottom lip pouting slightly before he grinned again. 

“I suppose we’-”

“Oi Lupin!”

Remus winced at Moody’s summons. “I’d better go.” He laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Sirius’ eyes widened. “Yeah you do not want to get on Moody’s bad side. I accidentally made him tea instead of coffee once and I don’t think he’s forgiven me yet.”

Remus snorted a laugh. “That sounds about right.” He shuffled a little, not really wanting to leave. “He’s not too bad though.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah,” He looked across the gym and spotted his own coach, Arthur Weasly, making his way across to them. “I like my coach too.”

Remus followed his gaze and smiled. “Oh Weasly’s lovely, I’ve always liked him.”

“You do know I’m timing you, right Lupin?” Moody called and Remus’ eyes widened. 

“Fuck, see you later!” He half yelled as he ran off, Sirius laughing in the background.

Remus was stretching out his splits the next time Sirius found him. 

“Hey.” Sirius greeted as he slid into his right leg split next to Remus. 

Remus glanced over at him, eyeing the other man’s form. “Hi. You need to turn your back knee under more.”

Sirius did as instructed then winced. “Ouch, I can feel that stretch.”

Remus smirked. “Ha, sucks to be you.”

Sirius stuck out his tongue. “Oh fuck off, not all of us are naturally flexible.”

“Okay we both know you’re the power gymnast and I’m the flexible one.” Remus said as he twisted slightly to sit in his side splits. Sirius followed his motions so they were now face to face.

“You ready for regionals?” Sirius asked. 

Remus shrugged a shoulder. The regional competitions were two weeks away. “I suppose? As ready as I’ll ever be anyways. I’m not too sure about my pommel routine but I suppose there’s always something that’s not perfect.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, I hate the rings. I mean I like them, but they’re my least favourite.”

“It’ll be nice to compete again though.” Remus admitted. “I missed the last season with my injury.” He said, nodding to his taped knee. 

Sirius winced. “Yeah, how’s it doing?”

“Oh it’s fine now, I just like to keep it supported.” Sirius met Remus’ eyes. “Better safe than sorry, am I right?”

Sirius nodded seriously. “It was a dislocation right?” 

Remus nodded. “Yeah, but I damaged the ligament, that’s why it took so long to recover.”

“Fuck that’s a tough one.”

Remus nodded as they both twisted into their left leg splits. He reached back and patted his right knee fondly. 

“It’s okay now though.”

Sirius smiled softly. “It’s nice to have you back.”

A week before the regional competitions, Sirius found Remus in the locker room.

“Hey.” Sirius greeted, still in his shorts and a t-shirt while Remus was still shirtless after his shower, towel drying his hair. He peeked out at Sirius from under the white cloth before lowering his arms. 

“Hey.”

Sirius seemed to freeze for a moment, his eyes following Remus’ arms to where they rested by his side, his gaze snagging somewhere around Remus’ midsection. 

“Sirius?”

Sirius seemed to snap back into himself, shaking his head. “Shit sorry.” He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. “I uh, I zoned out for a second.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Did you need something?” He asked, amused as he shrugged on his shirt. 

Sirius blinked a few times before coming fully to his senses. “Oh yeah, right, yeah.” He blinked again and Remus had to bite back his laugh. “Are you staying overnight at regionals?”

Remus cocked his head. “They’re six hours away and we begin at six am. I’m staying the night before and the night of the competition.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah.” He breathed. “Me too, that’s what I’m doing.”

Remus waited a beat, but Sirius didn’t seem to have anymore to say. Remus put on his denim jacket, checking his watch - he had twenty minutes before he needed to be in class. 

“Okay well, if that’s it I’d better go - I have class in a bit.” He said, smiling at Sirius and beginning to move towards the door. 

“Wanna share a room?” Sirius blurted out just as Remus was opening the door. 

Remus froze, then turned to look at Sirius, his hand still resting on the door handle. 

“It’s uh, cheaper.” Sirius continued, rambling a little. “And I figured it might be easier? I don’t know, I don’t like going myself, plus it’s nice to spend time with your team and-”

“Yes.” Remus laughed, cutting Sirius off. “That sounds really good.”

Sirius’ eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

Remus nodded, smiling. “Yeah.” He glanced towards the door then looked back at Sirius. “I’ve gotta go now because I have a class, but I’ll text you and we can work it out?”

“Yeah.” Sirius breathed. “Text me.”

Remus smiled and went out the door, falling back against the wood the minute it had closed. Had that just happened? Was he really going to share a room with Sirius Black? This was quite possibly the worst decision he had ever made. 

(And yet his heart seemed convinced it was the best).

He glanced at his phone again. Fifteen minutes to get to campus. Remus cursed under his breath and ran out the door, he could think about this later. 

“Hey Re, can I get a lift up to regionals?” Lily asked as they ran around the floor warming up the next day. 

“Sure. Sirius is coming too.”

Lily side eyed him. “You’re giving Sirius a lift?”

Remus could feel his face reddening, and it wasn’t from the exercise. “Um, we’re kind of going to share a room.”

Lily stopped running and stared at him. Remus had to jog back a couple of paces to get back to her. 

“You’re sharing a room with Sirius?” She asked, her eyes wider than saucers. “What? How? When did this happen? How did I miss all this?”

“Maybe it was when you were off getting serenaded by that swimmer.” Remus teased, talking about James - Lily’s new boyfriend. “I’m just kidding. It wasn’t a big thing, we’re… friends now? Yeah I think we’re friends.”

“You’re sharing a room but you don’t know if you’re friends.” Lily deadpanned. “Remus Lupin you are a useless lump of a man.”

Remus burst out laughing as they began running again. “Hey, give me a break, I’m just glad I’ve been able to actually talk to him, believe me there were a few times where I barely even functioned.”

Lily gave him that knowing look again. “Oh I’m aware. It took you this fucking long to talk to him in the first place, and then he was the one to make the first move.”

“Okay you can't call it ‘the first move’, we’re not dating or anything.”

“Yet.” Lily snorted and Remus just rolled his eyes, smiling. “So, can James come up with us?”

“Ooh, your boyfriend’s coming to the competition huh?”

It was Lily’s turn to flush. “Hush.” She admonished. “Maybe I just want him to show the other ways my flexibility can come in handy.” She said, smirking. 

Remus wrinkled his nose. “Ew, imagery, Lily why would you do this to me.”

Lily jumped and kissed him on the cheek. At five foot one she was more than a foot shorter than him. “Cause I love ya.”

Remus smiled. “Love you too. And yeah, James can of course come too.”

“You’re the literal best, Remus Lupin.” Lily said seriously as they slowed down to stretch. “I’ll let him know. You know, I have this feeling he and Sirius are going to get along really well.”

Remus grinned at the image. He had only met James once or twice, but he knew what Lily meant. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

James and Sirius got on so well Remus was half worried they would ditch Lily and Remus altogether and just ride off into the sunset. They arrived in the hotel lobby and Lily tucked herself under Remus’ arm sleepily for a moment as Sirius and James got the room keys. 

“This is really nice.” Lily sighed, looking at the boys fondly.

Remus had been surprised at how well everyone had melded together. It felt like they had always been friends. Platonic puzzle pieces. They had left fairly late - everyone needed to finish classes and work and they had driven in the dark. It was possibly the best road trip Remus had ever been on.

“Yeah.” He agreed, kissing the top of her head as the other two returned and the group split up, having rooms in different parts of the hotel. “Yeah, it is.”

“Which bed do you want?” Remus asked as he opened the door, his bag slipping off his shoulder awkwardly. 

“I don’t care.” Sirius replied, following Remus in, laughing as Remus struggled to adjust his bag and just flung it on the closest bed in defeat. 

“Guess this is mine then.” Sirius said, throwing himself on the second twin bed in the room. His hair was down and it fanned around his face like a satanic halo. Remus couldn’t look away. This had to be the worst idea he’d ever had.

“I am so tired.” He mumbled as he zipped open his suitcase, ignoring his gear to grab his pyjamas. 

“Me too.” Sirius agreed, standing up and kicking off his shoes before padding to the bathroom. The room was filled with the hum that always accompanied hotel bathrooms when the light was flicked on. Remus could hear Sirius shuffling around, brushing his teeth as Remus slipped into his pyjamas, sighing at the comfort they brought. Sirius came out of the bathroom and Remus took his turn washing up before flicking off the bathroom light. 

“Can I turn this off?” Remus asked, pointing to the main overhead light, Sirius already under the covers.

“Yeah go ahead.” Sirius said, his voice slow and honeyed with sleep. Remus flipped the switch and made his way to his bed in the dark, sinking under the covers, only just remembering to set his alarm for the morning before he let sleep take hold of him. 

“G’night Sirius.” He mumbled. He was asleep before he even heard a reply.

Remus didn’t see much of Sirius the day of the competition, bar when they woke up in the morning. But they had both been quiet, readying themselves for the day. They both had their routines and they worked around each other in sync. Remus had never gotten on with someone so seamlessly aside from Lily. 

Sirius bit his lip before they left the hotel room, looking like he wanted to say something. 

“Remus?” 

Remus had paused where he was tying his shoes, his tracksuit immaculate. “Yeah?”

Sirius seemed to battle with something in his head for a moment before letting it drop. “Good luck today.”

Remus smiled at him. “Thanks.” He breathed. “You too.”

“See you on the podium?” Sirius teased. 

Remus raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be the one in the middle.”

Sirius had been right, they did see each other on the podium. Sirius was the one in the middle though, Remus at his side winning the silver medal. 

“Well if it isn’t the golden boy.” Remus muttered under his breath as they smiled for the cameras. Sirius burst out laughing next to him, much to the confusion of the bronze medallist. 

“Told you so.”

“I suppose you did. The winner of more than one thing today.”

“Do I get a prize?” Sirius asked and Remus’ heart stuttered. It almost seemed… Flirty. 

“What do you call that big heavy thing around your neck?” He retaliated, smiling one more time before they were allowed down from the podium. 

Sirius smirked at him. “Validation.”

They all went out for dinner that night, celebrating a series of medals - Lily looking dazzling with another gold medal. 

“Aw look at poor Remus.” She and Sirius teased. “What’s it like so far down?”

Remus looked down at her, still miles beneath him even in heels. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

James choked on his drink as he laughed and Sirius cracked up beside him. They didn’t stay out late - they were all exhausted so as soon as they had dinner they all retreated back to their rooms.

“Onto nationals next.” Remus commented as he and Sirius strolled down their corridor after exiting the elevator. “Think we’ll make the team?”

Sirius didn’t have to ask what team. There was only one Remus could possibly be talking about, they all only had one goal in mind at this level - the Olympics.

“I really fucking hope so.” Sirius admitted, then bumped his hip against Remus’. “It’s looking good so far.”

Remus smiled and unlocked their door. “I suppose it is.”

They filed into their room, taking a moment to move their stuff from where they had been flung on the beds in the chaos that had been them trying to get changed quickly for dinner. 

“I still don’t have a prize.” Sirius said, his voice a little shaky.

Remus glanced up, his bed now clear. “Well, you never said what you wanted.”

Sirius flopped back on his bed, covering his face with his forearm. Remus couldn’t help but think of the first time Sirius had helped him - Remus had been in the same position. 

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to, but it would seem you don’t do well with subtlety.”

Remus huffed a laugh. “My sincerest apologies.” He said, a little sarcastically before throwing caution to the wind and lying down on Sirius’ bed next to him. 

“What is it you want?” He asked, his voice soft in a way he had never heard it before. 

Sirius moved his arm so Remus could see gorgeous grey, surrounded by those long, dark eyelashes. 

“I want you to kiss me.”

Remus froze. Sirius wanted Remus to kiss him. Remus. Remus Lupin. Kiss Sirius Black. He was fairly sure his brain had short circuited. 

Remus must have frozen for too long, because Sirius sat up, swallowing as he moved away. “Um, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I thought-”

Remus caught his wrist gently, his long fingers circling it completely. 

“Please never try to be subtle again.” He said, as he pulled Sirius down to his level. Chest to chest, they stared at each other for a moment, both of them barely breathing. 

“Wait.” Sirius croaked. “You mean-”

Remus didn’t let him finish, kissing him instead. All he could think was that this was what had been missing from his life. Sirius’ soft lips against his, Remus caressing that ridiculously silky hair as Sirius melted into him. 

Sirius pulled away for a moment to readjust himself - his arm had begun trembling under his weight, so Remus rolled them over, hovering over Sirius so he could kiss him sweetly. 

“I hope you like your prize.” He muttered and Sirius laughed against his lips before wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist and pulling him closer. 

“God yes.”

[ao3theskyisblue]

From the outside

Summary:

“You look like you could use a coffee.”

Kegan turned towards Officer Reyes, who was looking at him bemusedly, one arm leaning on the driver-side door and the other on the steering wheel, his fingers drumming on it rhythmically. He could also see the hint of concern in his gaze, no doubt seeing through his façade but also kindly didn’t ask questions Kegan wasn’t sure how to answer.

"Woke up late today."

Written for @911lonestarangstweek Day 2: Physical whump + “Does it hurt badly?” 

Just a heads up it’s OC-centric (outsider’s POV) 

Read on AO3

When Kegan woke up to complete silence, the light brighter than it should have been at 7am in the morning peeking in through the gap between his curtains, he should have known it was going to be a terrible day. There were no birds chirping, no neighbours yelling about broken lawn gnomes, nothing.

The quiet was always a cue for sudden disaster.

Fumbling for his phone on the bedside table, he lifted the screen only to fall off the bed with a loud thud and a string of curses at three realizations.

One: his snooze was a lie.

Two: he was going to be late on the last day of his trial week.

Three: he forgot to iron his uniform yesterday.

“Fuck me in the ear with a corn.” Kegan groaned, giving up on saving his duvet and instead shoving it in the general direction of the bed before sprinting to the bathroom. He shoved his toothbrush into his mouth, squeezing toothpaste on at the last second and hoping the brushes hopefully scraped across a few of his teeth.

He dampened his skin underneath a stream of cold water, but it wasn’t hardly enough for a towel to wipe off as he shimmied into his work clothes, slipping on his duty belt last. Grabbing a comb on his way out of the bathroom, he jumped the entirety of the stairs, miraculously without breaking a knee, and slid into the kitchen.

With his comb stuck in his curls.

His mother visibly startled, spinning around to look at him with eyes widened in shock, almost dropping the bowl of strawberries in her hand. Kegan snatched a few, ignoring his mother’s disapproving look before shoving them down his throat.  

“Shove them any harder and you’ll choke.” His mother says drily, placing the bowl onto the counter and Kegan works to swallow the three he managed to stuff in his mouth. He can feel the lumps slowly moving down his esophagus, the slight pain of the movement a nice distraction as he thought of all the excuses he could for why he would be showing up late today to the precinct.

Unfortunately, he knew who he would be shadowing today and lying to this man in particular twisted more guilt in his stomach than anyone else in the police department.

“Not the worst thing I’ve choked on.” Kegan shrugged, smiling at his mother innocently when she scrunched up her nose.

“Sorry I didn’t wake you, I thought you’d already left.” Kegan stilled at that, the smile on his face now a mere gesture of courtesy rather than truth as he looked away.

They both knew why she didn’t bother waking him up. He didn’t need to be studying to become a police officer to hear the blatant lie through his mother’s voice, and that phone call he happened to overhear a few days ago suddenly rang loudly in his ears.

Kegan didn’t bother with a response, instead heading out of the kitchen and towards the entranceway, grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door. He didn’t look up to know his mother was watching him, eyes piercing him like a hawk as he stood in uniform.

“I don’t know why you’re trying so hard to prove a point.”

The words came out quiet, as if just an absent thought that was accidentally said out loud, but Kegan looked up this time, eyes blazing with a ferocity that had his mother stepping back in response.

“I’m not doing this to prove anybody a point,” Kegan says lowly, anger prickling along his spine and making the hairs on his arms stand on end. “I’m doing it for me. You don’t need to understand, or support me. But say it to my face next time instead of behind my back. Stabbing me would hurt less.”

Kegan didn’t wait for his mother’s reaction before pulling the front door open roughly and slamming it shut behind him. The bright sun seemed to be taunting him with its brilliant presence, as if shining any brighter would overcloud the dark shadow that seemed to never stop looming over him ever since they packed their bags and left Venice.

It was going to be a terrible day.

 .

Two hours into his shift, and Kegan already wanted to drown himself in his bathtub while holding onto a plugged-in toaster.

Two fender benders that involved idiots and their screaming that probably left permanent scarring to his eardrums. A woman who thought her neighbours had gotten into a fight with all the banging on the walls until they arrived and saw things that almost made him grab the nearest bottle of sanitizer and scrub his eyes clean. Then there was the elderly man who thought someone was trying to break into his house only to find a woodpecker innocently drilling a hole on the side of his doorframe.

It couldn’t get any worse, could it?  

“You look like you could use a coffee.”

Kegan turned towards Officer Reyes, who was looking at him bemusedly, one arm leaning on the driver-side door and the other on the steering wheel, his fingers drumming on it rhythmically. He could also see the hint of concern in his gaze, no doubt seeing through his façade but also kindly didn’t ask questions Kegan wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Woke up late today. Didn’t have time to grab anything before we were called in.” Kegan sighed, not bothering with keeping his guard up. He’s shadowed Officer Reyes a few times during the trial week, and he was one of the few officers in Austin PD that he actually liked. One thing he’s learned from the first time he shadowed him was that the man had no time for bullshit. Emotions, including ones that told him to just punch straight through walls were valid as long as he talked about it.

Open communication and all that.

They were doing a routine patrol, eyes peeled and other senses alert for any calls that could come through the radio. So far, the calls had been mostly in other districts that already had their own patrols answering, and the next light was the indication they successfully drove one full loop. So, when Officer Reyes suddenly turned right when they were supposed to go straight, Kegan frowned.

“Uh, were we supposed to make that turn just now?” Kegan peered back, not like that could have done anything to change the direction they were driving but Officer Reyes just shook his head.

“There’s a café nearby.” At his skeptical look, the officer rolled his eyes. “The city will be fine if we take a five-minute break.” Officer Reyes says, making Kegan raise an eyebrow. Of the limited time they’ve spent time together, he never pegged him to be a complete rule-sticker, but this unexpected gesture still caught him off guard.

They stopped next to a fairly busy café, the store sign making him snort in disbelief as he got out of the cruiser, shutting the door behind him.

“Definitely not ominous.” Kegan says wryly, looking up at the vibrant ‘The Hideout Café – Seek Out Your Poison!’ sign above his head. There was a quiet chuckle beside him, and he turned to see Officer Reyes sporting a wide smile, amusement dancing across his features. He looked around the area and frowned when he saw a red minivan travelling suspiciously towards them.

“Hey, isn’t that car driving too fast?” Kegan moved to get a better look, frowning when the vehicle not only didn’t slow down, but instead seemed to be deliberately heading towards them.

He turned towards Reyes, about to ask what they should do in this situation but frowned when his eyes widened in horror.

His hand was already on his radio, but nothing could have prepared him for a shout, a hard shove, and the equivalence of his soul being knocked out of him.

And just like the day the cops showed up to his doorstep with bulletproof vests and guns raised in search of his father, his world stopped.

.

The individual granules of sand in an hourglass.

He remembered staring at them when he was younger, fascinated as the particles slowly trickled down with time. It was hypnotizing, but he would glance up occasionally to gaze at the clock hanging above the piano, watching the minuscule tilt of the hour-hand each time the minute-hand made its rotation.

It was a weird sensation, the brief moment where your life flashes by in old film. But just as quick as they came, they’re abruptly cut off as if given to him at the wrong time.

There were thoughts sluggishly trying to make sense in his mind, and Kegan wondered if memories could transcend the living and stay with the dead.

He winced against the sun’s rays, the crick in his back making itself known before he was assaulted by a cacophony of sound.

“-okay? Someone call 911!”

“They literally are 911-”

“I don’t think the other officer’s breathing.”

Kegan sat up abruptly at that, testing his fingers and toes and letting out a breath of relief when he felt them both. He couldn’t help but notice the red minivan speeding off, his training kicking in and automatically memorizing the license plate before it disappeared in the crowd.

“Are you alright, officer?”

Kegan turned his head towards the voice, seeing a barista leaning over him slightly, eyes wide with shock and concern. He opened his mouth to reply, before the entirety of his memories kicked back in.

Where was Officer Reyes?

Kegan scrambled up, staggering and clutching onto the barista’s shoulder when he reached out to steady him. His eyes darted around the crowded street, ignoring the phones and insistent chatter and focused on something a little way away from him.

No.

Stumbling forward, he forced his legs to move towards the man sprawled down on the sidewalk, one hand leaning down to feel for a pulse and the other reaching for his radio.

“This is 363-H-20. I need medics at Congress and 7th, officer down! Send out an APB for a red minivan with Texas licence plates Alpha-Charlie-Foxtrot-3875.” Kegan didn’t know how he hadn’t stuttered when his heart was currently beating outside of his chest, barely clinging onto the last moments of clarity.  He barely heard the affirmative through dispatch for both his requests, before leaning down to see if the man laying so still beneath him was still breathing.

He was, and his pulse was steady, but he wasn’t awake.

“Officer Reyes? Can you hear me?” Kegan pinched his earlobe, his instincts and training working on autopilot, and slapped the ground beside Officer Reyes’ ears a few times.

The man didn’t so much as stir.

Kegan made sure to consistently check his pulse and breathing, prodding his body gently for any injuries he might have missed, eyes flitting up every few seconds to watch for eye movement. He didn’t move the man, the paramedics would be the judge of that, and he couldn’t see anything else other than a nasty bruise starting to form just above his lower back.

“How is he?”

Kegan barely spared the barista, who was still crouching beside him for some reason, a look as he shook his head.

“I don’t-”

“Rossi?”

Kegan’s whirled his head, letting out a choked sound of relief when he saw Officer Reyes blinking blearily at him, looking beyond confused. There was a 7-second delay before he seemed to remember what had happened, and Kegan didn’t hesitate to hold him still when he tried to get up.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit?” Officer Reyes asked, and Kegan let out a sound of disbelief, hearing the barista beside him scoff incredulously. That sound almost validated everything he was thinking at the moment, and absently noted to buy the barista a drink for their service.

“Officer Reyes, was it? You were just thrown in the air like a sack of potatoes when that idiot driver decided the sidewalk would be the perfect place to take his new wheels for a spin,” The barista said, and Kegan glanced at the name card that read ‘Lawrence.’ Kegan startled when Lawrence turned towards him, a kind but worried smile still present on his lips. “If you hadn’t pushed this one out of the way and yelled that warning, things could have gone a lot worse.”

Kegan bit back a sharp retort on how it was already a worse case scenario because someone got hurt, but his mother had always told him to bite his tongue when emotions were running on fumes, and he knew nothing would come from yelling at a barista for something out of his control.

“Well, at least I can skip the paperwork.” Kegan narrowed his eyes, sending the other officer a dirty look.

“Oh, you’re doing all the paperwork. I’m even giving you mine, seeing as you just stripped at least five years off my lifespan.” Kegan glowered, and Reyes had the sheer audacity to laugh weakly. “Can you wiggle your toes?” He sighed in relief when he saw the slight movement, though still kept the officer as still as possible for the paramedics to confirm.

The sound of distant sirens grew closer, and Kegan immediately spun around from the noise when he heard the officer groan.

“What? What’s wrong? Where’s the pain?” Kegan asked, ready to dive in at a moment’s notice but Reyes was focused on something past him.

“I’m about the get the lecture of a lifetime. From all three of them.” The man muttered, and Kegan looked back to see the ambulance parked by the sidewalk, three figures hopping out. One of the female paramedics tossed something to the male, who caught it without even looking at her. They were making their way towards them, and Kegan frowned when the male paramedic suddenly froze, eyes widening at their figures on the ground. He could have sworn he didn’t blink, but one second the paramedic was by the ambulance, the next he was crouching down next to Officer Reyes, stethoscope ready and already checking ABCs.

“This isn’t your usual area.” Officer Reyes says in lieu of a greeting, and Kegan unconsciously stepped back to give them some space to work and to avoid the dark aura encircling the male paramedic who looked up, unimpressed.

“I could say the same for you.” There were some medical words exchanged then, and Kegan heard what he guessed to be the Captain spell out a series of tests they’ll do at the hospital. He couldn’t help but feel another wave of anxiety when the C collar got strapped on – that’s usually a bad thing, right? The male paramedic barely spared him a glance before shining a flashlight in Officer Reyes’ eyes.

“Name.”

“Really?”

“Answer the question.”

“Carlos Reyes.”

He stood to the side, watching as the Captain cautiously lifted Reyes’ uniform and frown at the bruising, prodding it skillfully and gauging the officer’s reaction. He could see the male paramedic flinch as if just the sight of the injury caused him insurmountable pain.

“D-does it, um, does it hurt badly?”

Four pairs of eyes turned to look at him, and Kegan really wished he had heeded his mother’s advice to just keep on sticking his foot in his mouth.

“No,” the male paramedic started sarcastically, a TK Strand that Kegan could make out now stitched on his uniform, “He’s just fine and dandy being run over by a four thousand pound moving brick. He can finally check it off his to-do list for the day.” TK scowled, his movements more aggressive than usual when swinging the stethoscope around his neck again, but Kegan could still see how the anger seemed to fade when he worked with the others to prod the officer for other injuries.

He heard a few snickers from the other two female paramedics that were quickly covered by badly hidden coughs, and really wished Mother Nature would offer him a hole to climb into.

Officer Reyes, who was still a little out of it but thankfully very much alive seemed to be on the verge of laughter himself. “TK, stop scaring him. I’m fine.”

Kegan winced, feeling the change in atmosphere before TK’s eyes even narrowed, and if he wasn’t quite frozen in place he would definitely have stumbled a few steps back from avoiding the icy chill that filled the air around them.

“You and I must have very different definitions of ‘fine.’” TK muttered. Kegan felt chills running down his spine at the deadly glint when those eyes passed over him for a millisecond.

It suddenly sent him back to when he was five years old, when he had brought a stray puppy home and learned how to fear a human being for the first time. His father had looked at the puppy like it was the worst thing created by mother nature, before taking it away and he never saw the little golden retriever again.

Now he knew why.

But he also attributed green eyes to his grandmother, who was an entire ball of warmth.

Who knew green eyes that had always felt so comforting whenever his grandmother smothered him with hugs and kisses when he was younger could feel like daggers that could skewer you alive on another person?

“I’m sorry we never got your coffee.” Kegan looked down at Officer Reyes, who was looking up at him apologetically, and Kegan didn’t know whether he should cry or punch something at how unreasonably nice he was being. They weren’t close, but Kegan respected him immensely, and he could tell from the way TK’s shoulders hadn’t relaxed from their tense position that he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“I’ve already received the wake-up call of the century. Coffee’s on me next time.” Kegan says lightly, before his eyes widened in horror as TK turned his stormy gaze on him. “Not that I want you to get hit by another car! I’ll gladly take the coffee over any car. And I’ll stop talking. Like right now.”

Yeah, he really needed that bath with the toaster. Maybe he’ll even add in his mother’s hair straightener just to seal the deal.

“Why don’t you sit down?” The Captain, Vega, says kindly, eyes shining with exasperated amusement as she shoots TK a look, and Kegan looks at her, puzzled.

“Why?”

“We need to check you over, too.” The other female paramedic, Gillian, says. She’s looking at him kindly, but doesn’t leave TK’s side as they make sure Carlos is stable for transport.

“But I’m fine? He’s the one who lost consciousness for a few minutes.” Kegan frowns in confusion, and sees TK whirl his head back towards the officer, looking like he wanted to throttle the man.

“And you didn’t think that was vital information?”

“It wasn’t that long!”

“Any length of time being unwillingly unconscious is important, Carlos.”

There was a moment of unspoken words between them and an exchanged look with Captain Vega before Gillian started checking for head injuries. There weren’t any visual signs of trauma, but Kegan has seen enough medical dramas to always expect the impossible.

“And to add on to earlier, no one who gets manhandled by this guy ever ends up fine. The shock may be hiding injuries you can’t feel right now.” TK looked up at him, but not before giving Officer Reyes another glare when he makes a noise in protest.

“I’m not that bad!”

“Tell that to your kitchen counter. And the bedroom wall.” The smallest of smiles lights up TK’s face, and Kegan watches in awe as Officer Reyes grins unabashedly at that.

He didn’t even know the man had any other expressions other than polite smiles and stoic everythings.

“You were on scene for all of them, care to share the grievance?” The soft look they exchanged made something in Kegan’s brain click in place, and he felt himself smiling despite current events.

In the end, they had been lucky. Had Officer Reyes not pushed him away when he did, the accident would have ended up with a black bag and cops knocking on his mother’s doorstep, when the last thing he said to her wasn’t ‘I love you.’ He would be walking away with minor aches, and Officer Reyes-

Had closed his eyes.

He wasn’t the only one that noticed, judging by how TK’s face drained in colour, eyes wide as he tried to get Officer Reyes to open his eyes.

“Carlos? Hey, stay awake – Carlos?! Cap!!” TK immediately reached his fingers to check Carlos’ pulse, and Kegan watched with bated breath as medical jargon sprout out from all three of them, with Captain Vega swearing under her breath when Gillian mentioned something about chest movement.

“We need to get him to a hospital, now.” The other two paramedics immediately lifted Officer Reyes on the stretcher, running towards the ambulance and Kegan could only watch, horrified when TK yelled that they had lost a pulse.

He had been conscious earlier.

He had been talking.

And now he could be –

“Go.”

Kegan startled, turning his head to see Lawrence gently guiding him towards the ambulance.

“I’ll keep an eye on your police car. You’re in no state to drive, and I think you’ll feel better if you go with them.” Lawrence urged, and Kegan didn’t know what else to say but a quick ‘thank you,’ receiving a shoulder squeeze in response before jumping into the back of the ambulance, the paramedics not even batting an eye as they sped off.

They must have gotten Officer Reyes’ pulse back in the time between his hesitancy and the nudge from Lawrence, so Kegan tried his best to focus on the weak but steady rhythm of the heart monitor as TK and Captain Vega worked to make sure his heart kept on beating.

He’s never had a problem being a shadow on the sidelines, and ever since his father’s arrest he’s been walking on eggshells around everything and everyone. Which is why he sat, stock still, and didn’t say a word as Captain Vega quietly murmured how Carlos was stable for now, the words doing nothing to rid the fear still present in TK’s eyes.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off the officer laying on the stretcher before them, and Kegan wasn’t sure he had even blinked. Their hands were tightly linked together, and there was a wet shine in his eyes.

“Come back to me.” He heard him whisper, and his own heart bled with guilt and despair as TK bowed his head, seeing his frame shaking as he clung onto a hand that just wouldn’t squeeze back.  

He should have been the one on the stretcher.

Why didn’t they take him instead?

It wasn’t fair.

.

“I’m sorry.”

The hospital waiting area was mostly empty, and he hadn’t allowed himself a moment to breathe until he heard the doctors give TK and the rest of the 126 who had all arrived one by one to make one big family the all clear. That had been minutes? hours? ago, and Kegan still couldn’t get past the roaring in his ears, the tightness of his chest as they all waited for the officer to wake up.

He was staying overnight for observation, and he faintly remembered being checked over himself in the blurred haze of everything. He couldn’t for the life of him remember who did it, or what questions he was asked, just that he would be walking away with minor bruising and some superficial scratches.

Officer Reyes on the other hand…

He had heard through the grapevine that they had caught the guy, and it was a brief moment of satisfaction that didn’t do much other than give him the relief that he was behind bars instead of behind another wheel of a car.

He looked up for the first time since entering those hospital doors. TK was staring at him with an unreadable expression in his gaze before Kegan could make out the small upward twitch of his lips.

“You’ve done nothing to apologize for,” TK says quietly, wincing a little. “In fact, I’m the one that’s sorry for my attitude back at the scene. I was a little – I was worried.” TK lifted a hand to run through his hair, before giving him a more genuine smile.

Ah, he was starting to see why Officer Reyes always seemed to melt underneath that gaze. The paramedic’s eyes were a couple degrees warmer than they had been earlier, the irises reflecting pools of green in the bright ceiling lights.

“He’s a good cop, and an even better person. He did what he thought was right, and it wasn’t your fault. You were just doing your job. And you were the reason they caught the guy, they found him not long after trying to cross state lines.” Kegan swallowed down the lump in his throat at that, the subtle acknowledgement warming him up inside.

Moving half-way across the globe to escape the scars his father left on their family was one thing, enrolling into the police academy and painstakingly working his ass off to show that he belonged was another. Ever since the arrest, being the son of a notorious serial killer had become his identity. Suddenly, his childhood dreams of becoming an officer of the law meant nothing – all washed down the drain by his father’s blood-soaked hands.

He would never understand why he deserved to live when the people his father killed did not. Years of pondering potential what if’s and self-loathing slowly ate him up inside, and he knew his mother only wanted what was best for him. He didn’t enroll in the police academy to prove anyone a point, to show that their family still had some sort of light worth saving but because he wanted to help. Because he wanted to be better, and he wanted to work for it.

But that didn’t mean the world wasn’t cruel in other ways.

Being labeled as the ‘grim-reaper’ certainly was one, where people assumed that anyone who came into contact with him were automatically doomed to die. It didn’t help that his own father had used it to his advantage, and it was something he would probably never forgive himself for.

And today was just shot to hell with the almost-death of his superior driving him over the edge. He had almost been indirectly responsible for another death of a good man, so when the doctors had given them good news, Kegan almost sobbed in relief. He’s been on the receiving end of looks of anguish, of dismay, of anger and frustration.

Seeing someone look at him with hope and reassurance was new, and hearing words that weren’t laced with malice and false approval made the heavy load of the day lighten a little.

It hadn’t been a good day. And tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed for anyone.

But as Kegan accepted the gentle pat on the shoulder and a friendly smile, he knew that through the dark times, he will find the light.

He wasn’t there yet, and he didn’t know if he would find it at all – but he would try.

And that would have to be enough.

He calls out to TK again, and watches as the man pauses in his steps, turning to look at him curiously.

“So, how long have you two been married?” He asks, a playful grin stretching across his lips, laughing when he sees the paramedic’s cheeks go through the different shades of red in a fascinating colour show. His eyes narrow, but his lips are twitching in amusement, and he waves for Kegan to follow him to Carlos’ recovery room. He’s about to protest, not wanting to intrude, but TK just rolls his eyes and grabs his arm gently to tug him along.

“So, you’re the cheeky new rookie Carlos mentioned,” TK muses, and Kegan raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know I was such a hot topic of conversation,” Kegan responds, not liking how TK’s grin suddenly turns wicked.

“Oh, he told me all about that time you knocked an entire crate of fresh tomatoes onto a perp who tried to escape. The street vendor wasn’t very happy, now was she?” TK winks, and Kegan feels the tables turn, his cheeks lighting on fire at the memory.

No, she certainly was not happy. Getting chased by an elderly woman who spent hours arranging her food stall while holding a broom above her head through the entire marketplace was not something he wanted to re-live. Ever.

“And, to answer your question, we’re not married,” TK continues, his smile turning a touch soft, and Kegan makes a sound of disbelief.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

He doesn’t dodge the shove he receives at that, and as they close the rest of the distance to Carlos’ room, Kegan smiles.

He could get used to Austin.

[alwaysmychoices]

Hangover Cure

Synopsis: The morning after Charlie ended her date to rescue a very drunk Ethan from a downtown pub, Charlie offers to share her best hangover cures, but as they spend the morning together, their boundaries seem to blur. Can they get comfortable with one another again, or are they risking getting hurt again?

Chapter 8 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 6k+ 

Tag List included at the end - if you want to be added or removed, let me know!

Note: I tried to do pure fluff, but suddenly, angst just showed up. I don’t even know how that happened, tbh. 

Ethan Ramsey hadn’t been this hungover since he was in medical school. Then, he’d had the luxury of hiding in his apartment, drinking Pedialyte, and chasing his migraine with leftover Chinese food. Now, he was an adult with responsibilities and a routine. He was not the kind to close his blinds and waste the rest of the day.

Yet, as he gripped his bathroom counter for stability and hung his head to fight the wave of nausea, that was exactly what he wanted to do.

“Get yourself together,” Ethan mumbled under his breath, wrapping a towel around his waist and leveling his gaze in the bathroom mirror. He grimaced under the harsh, artificial lights, but he maintained eye contact with his reflection.

Hangovers are for irresponsible college kids chugging cheap vodka – not for a respected professional nearing 40.

The coffee had helped as much as it could. He felt awake, and his head hurt less. But too much movement made him dizzy, and his entire body ached. He felt ridiculous and old and irresponsible and…

Ethan signed deeply as he realized he was also happy. Because Charlie was here. Because she’d left a first date to rescue him from his own debauchery, and because she’d stayed.

Somehow, Ethan felt more pathetic than he did when he’d nearly puked in the shower moments before.

Dropping his reflection’s condescending stare, Ethan brushed his teeth and went to his closet. For a moment, his eyes lingered on a pair of respectable dress pants and a button-up shirt, and he imagined that wearing them would prove that he was a responsible adult. However, when he caught sight of his sweatpants and a workout shirt, he opted for comfort over maturity.

After dressing, he started walking to his living room with an extra pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt in hand.

Ethan’s apartment had always been designed for one person, and that was what prompted him to purchase it six years ago. To his realtor’s bewilderment, he rejected any apartment he deemed too large or too well suited for a family. He worried that, if his apartment was too mature, it would prompt questions about when he intended to marry or have a family. He rejected several homes on the basis of having too many bedrooms because he didn’t want to encourage long-term guests. Ethan’s home was meant for Ethan and no one else. There were no unnecessary dividers to shield individuals from one another if they grew too irritated. Everything was open, from the well-appointed kitchen to the living room to the expansive windows and balcony. Only one wall interrupted the space – a privacy wall that separated the kitchen from the small hallway leading to his master and spare room.  

So, as soon as he left his bedroom, there was nowhere to look but at her.

His Charlie.

She wasn’t the only woman who had been in his apartment during the last six years. During their affair, Harper had spent many evenings at his dining table and in his bed, but she was rarely present in the mornings. And she never seemed to fill the space as Charlie did, leaving a piece of herself on everything she touched so that Ethan could only think of her when he looked around his home.

Charlie was lounging comfortably on the couch, Jenner draped across her lap as she scrolled through menus on her smartphone. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a haphazard bun in stark contrast to the sleek, sophisticated dress that hugged her frame. Ethan realized, with a deep sigh of relief, that he was the one who got to see her like this, not the one who had touched her knee at the bar last night.

“You’re alive,” Charlie quipped, her eyes darting from her smartphone to him.

Her gaze, as always, felt warm and comforting, but he pretended not to be affected as he approached her.

“Hardly,” he groaned, “I feel remarkably close to death.”

It had been her suggestion that he take a shower while she made their breakfast order, and he was grateful. He felt much more like a person and less shameful for his embarrassing behavior the night before.

Charlie’s lips quirked up as she tried to swallow her smile. She didn’t want to find his suffering comical, but if he insisted on being so dramatic about it, she couldn’t help herself.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll make sure people only have nice things to say at your funeral,” Charlie feigned a severe expression, and he narrowed his eyes at her once he realized she was making fun of him.

“I think that’s a task not even you could accomplish, Charlotte,” Ethan rarely used her full name, and it made Charlie’s eyebrows raise.

She was already thinking of her comeback when Ethan produced a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. In her confusion, Charlie forgot what she was going to say. After staring at the clothes for a beat, she looked back up to him, her bewilderment evident.

“You’ve been wearing that dress since 8 pm last night. You deserve a change of clothes, Charlie,” Ethan was nonchalant as he sat on the edge of the couch, massaging his temple as if giving little thought to the act.

Maybe that’s what made the gesture so startling.

Charlie accepted the clothes, staring at the fabric as if trying to answer a question she hadn’t yet asked. Her expression was devoid of the impish playfulness that shielded her deeper feelings from their interactions, and she could no longer hide behind humor.

It was ridiculous that she was so moved. She’d left David in the cold last night just to make sure Ethan was alright, and after dragging him home, she’d stayed with him as he stumbled and vomited. She’d waited all night, in fact. In contrast, he offered her a pair of sweatpants.

But there was a sense of familiarity and intimacy that she hadn’t expected.

She’d only worn his clothes after having sex with him. Now, she got to wear them just because he was worried about her comfort.  

There was no emotional distance to protect herself. They were growing comfortable again, and historically, that had never ended well for them.

“Thanks, Ethan,” Charlie gripped the clothes tighter, finally piquing Ethan’s interest, but she deflected quickly, “While I go change, you can add whatever you want to the order.”

Charlie handed Ethan her cell phone, which was already open to a delivery app. The cart was full of breakfast essentials from a popular restaurant near Ethan’s apartment. Since Charlie had never been, she’d taken the liberty of sampling everything fit for a hungover feast.

Ethan’s eyes widened as he scanned the list.

Included in the long order were waffles, bacon, hash browns, fried eggs, sausage, and more. It was more fried food than Ethan had eaten in years.

“Charlie,” Ethan’s head whipped around to find her, only to see that she had already disappeared into his room to change, “Charlie!” he called out louder, sounding alarmed, “What is this order?”

“Don’t delete anything!” Charlie warned, yelling from the other side of the door as she shimmied out of her dress. His shirt felt soft and warm, and it still smelled like his cologne.

“You intend to order all of this?” Ethan asked incredulously, “If I don’t die of a hangover, I’ll die from a heart attack.”

He didn’t need to see her to know that she was rolling her eyes as she countered, “You will be fine!”

“Charlie, this is ridiculous,” Ethan was still complaining, and Charlie groaned at his protests as she tightened the drawstring of her sweatpants.

From his bedroom, she could hear him mumble complaints about how unhealthy the options were and how they should have known better as medical professionals, and though Charlie felt frustrated, she caught a glimpse of her smile in the mirror.

Charlie decided to let Ethan tire himself out with his own complaints, and she finished changing and folded up her dress, carrying it with her to make sure she wouldn’t forget it when she left later this afternoon.

By the time Charlie returned to the living room, Ethan had scrolled through every option on the digital menu, growing irritated with the strain in his eyes from the prolonged screen exposure as it aggravated his headache. He mumbled something to himself about how much he hated being hungover, and Charlie snickered, accidentally revealing herself.

Ethan glanced back, and a lump formed in his throat as he took in the familiar sight of her dressed in his clothes. It reminded him of all the time they’d spent together in his apartment – their first real fight in his living room, their first time together, the night she left him, and the night she’d suddenly appeared on his doorstep.

Everything with Charlie was laden with memories and deeper meanings, and Ethan wondered how he’d ever allowed himself to be in such a predicament.

He’d always been bad at resisting Charlie…

“What?” Charlie asked obliviously as she took her spot next to him on the couch, “Greasy breakfasts are a key element in all hangover recoveries.”

“Believe it or not, I, a thirty-seven-year-old man, have been hungover before,” Ethan begrudgingly returned the phone to her as she held out her hand for it. Though, as he spoke, she seemed more interested in what he was saying than her cellphone or breakfast order.

“I’ve seen you hungover, Ethan. You’re even grumpier than usual,” Charlie’s lips were quirked up in a playful grin, and Ethan realized she was the only person in the world who could get away with such a statement and still make him smile.

“And I’ve never resorted to a heart-attack breakfast special,” Ethan seemed proud of the fact he’d maintained his healthy diet even when fighting off a pounding headache, and Charlie shrugged casually.

“That’s fair… But when was the last time you drank an entire shelf of alcohol and started dancing in the middle of a crowded pub?” Charlie raised an eyebrow, daring him to answer.

Ethan opened his mouth, sure that he could think of a similar night, but he failed to produce one. Charlie watched as his eyebrows knit together in frustration, and she resisted the urge to smooth them out.

Ethan leaned back into the couch, and cautiously, he admitted, “It’s been a few years…”

Charlie grinned in victory, but he quickly added, “However, I don’t think I’m nearly as hungover as you think I am.”

“Oh?” Charlie asked, voice full of doubt. Judging solely from how drunk he’d been the night before, anyone could conclude that he had to feel terrible now. But his behavior this morning was further proof that he was very, very hungover.

Not believing him, she decided to test him.

“Well, if you’re not feeling bad, why don’t we skip all of the hangover cures? Maybe we should go for a run,” Charlie suggested, watching as his face paled. Encouraged by his adverse reaction, she pushed further, “It’s such a beautiful, sunny day. Why don’t we go to the farmer’s market and pick up some fresh ingredients to make breakfast ourselves?” Ethan’s eyes widened with horror, and for the cherry on top, she added, “There’s a live band.”

Ethan flinched.

“And lots of new smells and people talking.”

Ethan dropped eye contact, nearly gagging at her words. He felt too sick to register his embarrassment, and he closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath to fight off oncoming nausea.

“You made your point, Charlie,” Ethan affirmed, leaning his elbows on his knees as he covered his face with his hands, “Hiding in my apartment and eating greasy food it is.”

Charlie felt a pang of guilt and sympathy, and to fight her instinct to soothe him with physical touch, she turned her attention to her phone. Trying to make up for her display, she added a few bottles of Gatorade and a healthy spinach omelet to her cart. After plugging in Ethan’s address into the app, she confirmed the order.

“It’ll be 40 minutes,” Charlie announced, and when she looked back at him, he was closer to calming himself but was still so miserable…

Unable to stop herself, she smoothed his hair, pulling it off his forehead as she leveled his gaze at him. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she asked, “You okay?”

Ethan nodded, turning his head just enough to look at her, and when he did, he was struck by the intimacy of the moment. This wasn’t in the rules.

But really, nothing they were doing fit into the rules they’d made for their relationship.

Belatedly, he realized that she could have been anywhere. She had every opportunity to go home with someone else, to be a beautiful young woman in the big city. She owed Ethan nothing, yet she did everything for him.

It was different than falling into his bed. Those were normal, human urges prompted by a romantic history and extended close proximity. This was different.

In that moment of clarity, Ethan wanted to ask about the man he’d seen with her at the bar. He wanted to know why she left her date to rescue him. He wanted to understand why they consistently failed at staying apart.

He wanted to know if they were just running from something that had always been inevitable.

Something warm and soft bloomed in Charlie’s chest as she met his gaze. She felt lost in the depths of his ocean blue eyes, yet there was something sad in the flutter of her heart. Because every time she felt like this, there was a sobering wave to follow. No matter how long she managed to chase it away, she always remembered who they were, what they’d done, and how deeply they hurt one another. The innocence of their relationship was long gone, replaced with layers of mistakes and misinterpretations.

She was supposed to leave it behind.

Yet, when given a chance to find someone else, she came back here…

She felt a sudden urge to cancel the mobile order, pick up her clothes, and leave. She was wading into dangerous territory, and she didn’t trust herself not to lose herself to the tide.

But she stayed.

“You must think that I look pathetic.”

“I don’t,” Charlie smiled softly, sitting close like she was trying to share a secret in a crowded room, “Though I can’t promise I won’t tease you for it.”

Ethan chuckled, wishing that she would never move her hand from his hair.

“What’s next on your list of hangover cures?” he wanted her to stay, and he could feel her urge to run.

Charlie smirked, “You might not like it.”

“If you make me swallow a raw egg, I’ll never trust you again,” Ethan felt queasy at the thought and had to straighten his spine just to keep it at bay.

Charlie laughed one of those deep, throaty chuckles that made him feel like the funniest person in the world.

“No, though I will keep that in mind,” Charlie stood, which mildly disappointed Ethan. Without an explanation, she began to look around his living room. He watched her for a moment, expecting an explanation but never receiving one.

“What are you doing?”

Charlie waved him off, finding the remote she was looking for and throwing it to him. Before he could ask any further questions, she started walking back to his bedroom, and he observed with a wide, confused stare. She returned moments later with a spare blanket from his closet.

Ethan watched her in awe as she spread the blanket across the couch, moving through his apartment with such ease. No one had ever looked so comfortable here, especially not with him.

“My cure is a blanket?” Ethan asked incredulously, waiting for the twist.

“No,” Charlie confirmed, slipping under the blanket and stretching across the couch. She was tall enough that her feet were now at his side, and he could feel her body heat. “The cure is that you are going to get comfortable on this couch and spend hours watching Netflix. No medical journals. No work. Just mind-numbing television.”

“Hours?” Ethan repeated, failing to suppress his repulsion.

Ethan hadn’t had a lazy Saturday in years. Even when he spent weekends with his father, he was always doing something – checking a chart, fixing something around the property, or answering emails. The closest he’d come to a day of full relaxation was when he’d drive up to visit Naveen at the lake, but even then, he played informative audiobooks on the drive and discussed work over dinner.

The idea of doing nothing horrified him.

Ethan Ramsey didn’t sit in silence. He didn’t stop moving. Because, when he did, he didn’t like what he saw in his reflection.

“Hours,” Charlie confirmed.

“Surely, you’re exaggerating. I am perfectly capable of reading a journal or two,” Ethan persisted.

“Ethan, you deserve the day off. Take it,” Charlie poked his outer thigh with her foot, “Besides, you agreed to try my hangover cures. This is one of them.”

Ethan hesitated, fighting the anxiety building in his chest.

Did he know how to do nothing with Charlie? Did he trust himself to sit next to her without work as a distraction?

As Charlie watched him mull over the decision, she wondered if he knew something she didn’t. Was he right in his hesitation? Was it safe for them to spend time together like this?

“I’ll try,” Ethan finally consented, making Charlie beam, and for a moment, his fears disappeared. If he made her happy, how bad could it really be?

“I appreciate your valiant efforts,” Charlie was making fun of him as she turned on his TV, and though he buried his smile, he never really took on the stern expression he tried to model. “How brave of you to spend the day watching Netflix on your couch. Few men could handle such a challenge.”

“Someone’s got to do it,” Ethan bickered back, watching as Charlie opened Netflix and began to scroll through the options.

His Netflix account was used sparingly because he rarely had free time, but when he used the streaming service, he opted for gripping documentaries or serious, well-reviewed dramas. Once, he’d watched a horror film, but he found the movie too ridiculous to finish. As a result, his suggestions were all thoughtful and somber. Charlie frowned as she perused the options, hoping that something worth watching would finally appear.

“That,” Ethan pointed at a title, “is an excellent documentary. I really encourage you to watch it.”

Charlie’s face twisted into that of horror as she side-eyed him. How had she become so close to this man?

“Do you do anything fun?” Charlie was too consumed with disbelief to bury the accusation in her tone.

Indignant, Ethan scoffed, “Of course, I do!”

“Like what?”

“I read–“

“What do you read?”

“… Medical journals and self-improvement books,” Ethan confessed, “But, occasionally, I’ve read some very intricate thrillers.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow, indicating that she wasn’t convinced.

“What else?” she prompted.

“I cook,” Ethan was embarrassed to admit that his mind was drawing a blank. How did he spend his time? “I spend time with Jenner, and I take him on walks. I don’t just work all day, Charlotte.”

He used her full name to intimidate her into ending the interrogation, but it really just made him seem dull and proper.

“What do you do?” Ethan pushed the accusation back on her, and she floundered to respond.

“I have fun!” Charlie was so determined that her voice squeaked at the end, and she coughed, trying to regain composure, “I read-“

“You didn’t seem to think that counted,” Ethan crossed his arms.

“I read fun things, not just medical journals,” Charlie didn’t elaborate on what exactly she read because, if she were honest, she couldn’t remember the last book she’d finished. With her residency and the diagnostics team, she rarely had time to devote to hobbies. Though, she wouldn’t admit that now. “I also hang out with friends and go out and…”

Charlie trailed off, finally out of ideas. She crossed her arms, biting on her lower lip as she tried to think of a way to one-up him.

“And?” Ethan encouraged, feeling surprisingly close to victory.

Charlie narrowed her eyes, annoyed he’d already found a way to win.

“Fine, we’re both boring!” Charlie threw her hands up in the air in concession, and Ethan grinned that beautiful, wide triumphant smile. Seeing it eased her loss.

Before he could gloat, Charlie interjected, “But we are not boring enough to watch any of this.”

Charlie motioned to the TV dramatically, using the remote to navigate the catalog by popularity rather than Ethan’s serious suggestions. Had it been anyone other than Charlie, Ethan would have begrudged someone messing up his suggestions, but because it was her, Ethan just looked for some title that could interest them both.

“What is that?” Ethan stopped her on a popular television show with two young doctors on the cover. Unfamiliar with the show, he hoped it might be a serious, medically-accurate drama they could agree on.

“Grey’s Anatomy? You haven’t seen it?”

“No, have you?”

“I think everyone has,” Charlie had to admit that she was intrigued by his lack of pop culture knowledge. Initially, she assumed that their age difference was a significant contributor, but now, she was beginning to think that he just elected to remain ignorant.

“What’s it about?”

“It’s like a medical soap opera. It begins with the new class of interns at this hospital and just revolves around all of the drama they get into,” Charlie was tempted to downplay the dramatic, often inaccurate depiction of life in a hospital just so he would consent to watching it. She would have loved to watch him react.

“Drama? Do they commit malpractice or something?” Ethan seemed to be serious, though Charlie still wondered if he was feigning this level of unfamiliarity.

“I mean, at some point, probably,” Charlie shrugged, “But it’s more about them all sleeping together.”

Ethan seemed shocked at the revelation, and he pushed, “In a hospital? The interns are all sleeping together? That would never happen.”

“It’s not just the interns. They’re sleeping with the attendings, the patients, pretty much everyone,” Charlie explained, amused by Ethan’s apparent alarm.

“Well, that’s hardly appropriate.”

Charlie bit her lip to stop herself from reminding him that he was an attending spending his Saturday cuddled next to his resident, and she continued scrolling until they agreed on a popular mystery show. As the show ran, they settled into the couch, becoming more and more comfortable. By the end of the first episode, Charlie’s feet were in Ethan’s lap, and neither of them flinched at the contact.

Roughly 45 minutes after Charlie ordered their breakfast, Ethan’s buzzer rang. Charlie started to get it, but Ethan told her to stay comfortable while he handled it. After forty minutes without feeling nauseous, he felt brave enough to cross his living room and buzz the delivery driver in. Ethan paid for breakfast and, after collecting two plates from his kitchen, set the feast down on his coffee table.

“I expected you to be weird about eating on the couch,” Charlie confessed. Though she’d spent a considerable amount of time in Ethan’s apartment, her presence always changed the rules. They were too consumed with each other to abide by the apartment norms. This was the first time she’d observed him actually living in his home, and though foreign, something was exciting about it.

Charlie felt like she was seeing a private side of Ethan – one that he didn’t often share. She realized, as she accepted the plate, that she might not know Ethan as well as she always thought. But maybe that would change…

And if it did, was that okay?

“Why?” Ethan asked, unboxing their order while Charlie retrieved the Gatorade and orange juice.

She stood to collect glasses for them, shrugging, “I don’t know. You just seem like the person with rules about how to live in their apartment.”

Ethan considered it for a moment, thinking about the six years he’d owned the apartment. Surely, at some points, he had been selective about what was appropriate and what wasn’t. Never in his relationship with Harper had they shared a meal on his couch, nor had she ever worn his clothes. His other guests were never present on such a casual basis as watching a movie and eating anywhere other than his dining room.

Did he have rules, or had he never had someone he wanted to share his space like this?

“I don’t have guests frequently enough to have rules,” Ethan finally decided, opening the last box. Their feast took up the entirety of his coffee table, precariously perched and dangerously close to landing on his rug.

Charlie poured them both a glass of orange juice – and shoved a bottle of Gatorade at Ethan – and then they dug in. Despite his reservations, he didn’t mind loading his plate with dense carbs and greasy sides. After a few bites, he begrudgingly admitted that the unhealthy foods did make him feel better, to which Charlie danced in victory.

They paused the show as they ate, opting to share casual conversation and the occasional comfortable silence.

Neither of them acknowledged the familiarity and comfort of the setting. It felt so natural that, for a moment, they forgot that this was the first time they’d hung out like this. Everything about the moment felt… right.

If they thought about it too long, the ease turned into apprehension. This should be wrong. They should be uncomfortable and stern. For months, they’d been on edge, and sleeping together had only made it worse. For the last week, they rarely spoke and actively avoided interaction outside of work. Yet, given the first chance, they were laughing and relaxed.

Even when they found themselves squirming under the weight of impropriety and the danger of falling back into each other, they didn’t stay that way for long.

Both Ethan and Charlie were so determined to stay happy in this moment that they didn’t dwell on anything else for long.

Well… mostly.

Ethan couldn’t shake the image of Charlie with her date the night before. Every time she laughed at something she said, he wondered if she’d laughed harder for him, and when she smiled, his thoughts turned treacherous. When she smiled at her date last night, had she thought of Ethan?

Charlie’s phone buzzed, and she paused mid-waffle to check it. When she saw the caller ID, she shielded the screen from Ethan and typed back a quick response, trying to remain inconspicuous.

And that’s how Ethan knew it was him.

The man they never spoke of but Ethan never stopped thinking about.

A dormant flame of jealousy lit in Ethan’s chest, slowly crowding out all rational thought until all he could see was that man’s hand on Charlie’s knee. Ethan knew not to ask. He knew it wasn’t his place, and he doubted he would have liked her answer anyway. Yet, he felt compelled to do something. To ask questions and find out every sordid detail about their night.

There had been at least an hour between seeing Charlie on her date and her coming to rescue him. What had happened? Had they kissed each other goodnight? Did he invite her to spend the night with him? If she hadn’t come to his rescue, would she have said yes? Or was the date terrible? Had she shoved his hand off her knee and left him alone to pay the bill? Had she wandered Boston until Baz’s call gave her something to do?

Had she given up a good date to care for him, or did she just have the time to swing by?

Rationally, Ethan knew that average coworkers didn’t do this for one another, but he couldn’t fight the fear that, after all this time, she didn’t really want him. He worried that she’d been mesmerized by a passionate affair with her hero but, aside from the sexual tension, there was nothing really there. That she was his Charlie but he wasn’t her Ethan.

It was ridiculous and embarrassingly insecure.

She was always there, always fighting for him.

Yet, watching her smile at someone else the way she smiled at him stripped him of every assurance he had.

Despite his insistence that they couldn’t be together, he feared losing her.  

“Is that him?” Ethan couldn’t shake the jealousy from his voice, and ashamed, he avoided eye contact.

“Who?” Charlie feigned innocence, but she wasn’t very convincing.

“Last night’s date.”

Charlie bit on her lower lip, thinking it over carefully before admitting, “Yes.”

Silence.

“What’s his name?” Ethan didn’t know why he asked. Really, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to humanize him, to make him more than the monstrous image of a man flirting with Charlie.

“David,” Charlie picked at her plate, suddenly disinterested in her bacon.

David. Ethan suddenly hated the name.

“How did it go?”

Silently, Ethan screamed at himself for asking. Why was he pushing it? Why did he want to torture himself?

Charlie froze, growing rigid as anxiety traveled through her limbs. Sitting next to Ethan, she felt a sting of shame as if she’d betrayed him by meeting David, and though she reasoned that she was in the right, she felt wrong.

Why was she flirting with another man when she was in love with Ethan?

“Um,” Charlie stumbled on her words, “Well. It went well.”

Ethan didn’t know what he wanted her to say, but it wasn’t that.

“That’s great,” Ethan tried hard to seem unphased and supportive, but it came off forced and disingenuous, “You’ve been through a lot these last few months and deserve to have a good time.”

Oh, Charlie felt cold as disappointment settled over her.

She knew he was supposed to support her and offer words of encouragement, but hearing them left a bad taste in her mouth. She wanted him to complain about David, to lecture her about the danger of meeting strangers, or encourage her to avoid dating until her residency was over. She wanted him to stop her from moving on, to hold her with him. She wanted him to fight for her like she always did for him…

“Yeah, we had a really good time,” Charlie was visibly annoyed as she stabbed her waffle with her fork.

Ethan allowed their conversation to fall into a strained silence, watching as Charlie covertly fumed from across the couch. He didn’t know why she was angry with him, though he didn’t doubt that he deserved it. He had a skill for messing things up with her.

They’d nearly finished their breakfast when, with a deep sigh, Ethan added, “I’m sorry about last night.”

Charlie looked up at him cautiously, waiting for him to elaborate. Looking at his sad, pitiful face threatened to dissipate her anger, and to sustain it, she thought of every time he’d disappointed her or pushed her away. And that was enough to maintain her glare.

“I’m sorry you had to leave your date to take care of me,” Ethan may have hated that she was having a good time with someone else, but he did regret ruining it. He didn’t dare tell her why he’d been so reckless at the pub, but deep down, he suspected that she knew that it was his jealousy.

Despite her desperation to stay mad at him, she felt the resentment fall through the cracks as it always did.

What was really terrifying was that, when she stopped running, all she really felt for him was love.

“I didn’t have to,” Charlie chuckled softly, much to Ethan’s surprise, “I could have just called an Uber and asked Baz to take you home. It might have taken a little while to convince him to leave the bar, but it could have been done. I went because…” Charlie stopped herself before she could say something regrettable. He noted the abrupt stop and waited with bated breath before she explained, “I came to get you because I care about you, and I was worried. I wasn’t running from a bad date or forced to see you. I decided to go.”

When she had the courage to meet his eyes again, Charlie realized that Ethan was silently staring at her, and though she tried to decipher the complexity of meaning in his eyes, she failed. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe he cared just as much as she did…

Ethan tried to reason her speech away. He studied every word, trying to shove it into a remote category. He knew he was safer if he could distance his emotions from what she was saying. It was best to leave what she said at face value and refrain from enmeshing it with hopeful, romantic ideals.

But he couldn’t stay removed.

He couldn’t hear her and tell himself that she’d rushed to his side out of pity and friendly obligation.

Charlie picked him.

She always picked him.

They may have stumbled in and out of affairs, but they’d only gotten to that point because of her. She’d always come back, even when he pushed her away. She sent that first drunk text. She dared him to be honest in the spring, and when her world fell apart, she came to his doorstep…

And even now, after he’d rejected her on the phone a week ago, she’d left a perfectly nice man to rescue Ethan.  

Ethan was overwhelmed with the sudden realization that maybe Charlie cared for him just as deeply as he cared for her…

But really, hadn’t he already known that?

“Thank you,” Ethan wished he could have poured all of his gratitude into his voice, if just to spare himself from one of the emotions fighting for dominance in his mind.

Charlie smiled carefully, shrugging, “You’d do the same for me.”

He would. He would have done anything for her.

Anything but be honest about how he felt.

“But this time, you did it, so you deserve the last piece of bacon,” Ethan offered the plate, watching as Charlie seemed to soften in front of his eyes.

“Thank you, but I always deserve the last piece of bacon,” Charlie quipped as she grabbed the last slice.

“And what makes you more deserving than me?” Ethan challenged, feeling emboldened, “After all, this whole feast was to cure my hangover.”

“But I am the one who ordered it. Without me, you would have gagged on an egg white omelet and worked yourself into a migraine,” Charlie gloated as she took a bite of the bacon just to rub it in.

“You keep bragging about these cures, but I am still hungover.”

“Then, we’ll just have to keep trying.”

Ethan didn’t suppress his smile at her challenge, and she found herself smiling back, secretly excited at the prospect of lingering by his side.

After they finished breakfast, they carried the plates to the kitchen, but instead of cleaning up, they returned to the couch. Feeling lethargic and overwhelmed by the emotional weight of their conversation, Ethan stretched out across the sofa. He was too tall to leave enough room on the other side for Charlie to fit, so Charlie stretched out beside him, head opposite from his.

As soon as they pressed play on the next episode, time lost all meaning. Aside from the occasional short conversation or quip at the show’s expense, they recognized the passage of time solely by how many episodes they watched, but once they became engrossed in the overarching mystery, even that became hazy. Hours passed like this, and they slowly gave into the moment, letting their defenses fall back. They didn’t need to explain what they were doing or why they were there. They just let it happen.

They neared the end of the season when Charlie’s eyes grew heavy, and Ethan watched her squirm out of the corner of his eye as she tried to stay awake. When Jenner joined them on the couch and cuddled into Charlie, any hope of evading a nap was lost.

It took Ethan roughly fifteen minutes to realize that she’d fallen asleep next to him, but when he noticed, he paused the show – partly out of courtesy and partly because he didn’t want the killer to be revealed without seeing her reaction. He reached for one of his medical journals from the floor, knowing that he had several minutes where he could get some work done without her knowledge. Yet, he hesitated to actually open the booklet.

Instead, he found himself watching her, feeling content with her calming presence. He allowed his mind to wander back to the spring, when he rejected her offer at a secret affair. He wondered what life would have looked like if he had agreed. Would they have been happier?

Ethan was unconvinced of the validity of his judgment. Had he been doing the right thing, or had he twisted his morality into a shield to protect him from getting hurt?

Charlie didn’t stay asleep very long. Within thirty minutes of him noticing that she was asleep, she began to shift, eyes slowly fluttering open. Charlie yawned, stretching across the couch and startling Jenner. She soothed the dog, scratching behind his ears as she shifted her sleepy gaze to Ethan.

“Are you working?” Charlie accused, rubbing her eyes.

“No. I was just picking it up,” Ethan didn’t expect her to believe him, but just to reassure her, he put the journal back on the floor. He motioned to the TV, “Do you want to keep watching?”

Charlie mulled it over, wondering if she should cut the day short and go home. It was rare to have a day off, and there was a laundry list of tasks she needed to accomplish. But when she imagined actually leaving early, her chest tightened, and instinctively, Charlie nodded her head.

“Yeah, let’s keep going.”

Charlie settled back into the couch, moving a throw pillow to the back of her head as she prepared to finish the episode.

Ethan pressed play, yet he found himself watching Charlie more than the television.

He just couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had changed… And he didn’t know what happened next.

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