#wondering if you ever think about me the way I think about you or feel tempted like I do

[kingkatsuki]

One day Bakugou will tell you how he feels about you, but today is not that day.

No but really, why do girls always type the most filth with the straightest faces while the guy on the other end is probably losing his shit😭😂

“Why do you even bother with this shit?”

You don’t even attempt to shield your phone, it’s nothing that your boss hasn’t seen a million times before. Your face is bored as you swipe through the options, leaning against your desk with your coat and bag on ready to leave the agency for the day as you wait for Bakugou.

To most it was probably peculiar for you to be leaving at the same time as the number two hero, but it had become almost a tradition for you to both grab gyoza at the small ramen bar down the street each Thursday after work. It was a place that Bakugou had found by chance one evening when he stopped a petty villain stealing the cash register off-duty. An act that wasn’t forgotten by the kind owner who offered him free gyoza for life— but he’d always leave his money on the table. The food was good, and the atmosphere quiet, just how he liked it. And you had too the first time he’d invited you after your train home was cancelled.

It almost felt like an unlabelled date night, the two of you laughing over gyoza and asahi away from the stress of the outside world for an hour before he’d walk you to the station and wait for your train before making his way to his platform. A slew of food photos and selfies saved in your phone that could indicate a blossoming relationship if they were posted on your socials, and not saved in your camera roll. And perhaps it could be a date— if Bakugou would ever admit his feelings for you.

“Look at what he said to me the other day,” Your fingers scroll up on your phone screen and Bakugou takes the opportunity to look at the way the light shines off your cheeks, feeling that familiar warmth begin to burn like it always does when he thinks of you, “It was so embarrassing.”

Bakugou squints at the screen, trying to read the text without his glasses as his face swiftly contorts to disgust. He doesn’t need to read the whole message to know the guy is an absolute fucking douchebag—

“He wants to what?!” Bakugou’s blush tickles the tips of his ears as he pulls back to make eye contact with you, “How would you even get in that position?”

“You’d be surprised—” You laugh, light and airy, and it has Bakugou leaning against the side of your desk to stop himself from tumbling forward.

“I refuse to believe that works on anyone.” He snorts as he shrugs his own coat on, switching the light off as you both walk towards the elevator.

“Call it the best of a bad bunch,” You laugh, stepping into the lift as you show him the screen again. This time it’s a conversation that has his throat dry as he immediately focuses on your messages. Just the right amount of innocence piled high with implication as he thought about you texting him like that.

“Guy sounds like a fuckin’ loser,” Bakugou plays it off, jabbing the ground floor button with a little more aggression than necessary as the doors close behind you.

“He seems okay,” You mumble, “He works at Deku’s agency.”

“Definitely a loser then.” He sneers.

“Stop.” You grin at him, and Bakugou has to stop his heart from leaping from his chest from how hard and fast it beats.

“What rank is he?” Bakugou scrunches his nose. He better be at least top twenty before he even thinks about having a chance with someone as perfect as you, and even then that wouldn’t be enough.

“He’s still a sidekick, actually.” You laugh, “I got enough Pro-Hero stress dealing with you.”

“Ya better not be thinking about jumping ship.”

“You know I’d never.” You reply truthfully, “I’m a Dynamight girl til I die.”

Bakugou’s cheeks flushed pink at your admission, heart swelled with pride as he let your words stroke his ego.

“Yeah, ya better be.” Bakugou watched in amusement as you kept a straight face as you texted him back, wondering whether you were keeping the conversation sweet or suggestive. Would you look the same if you were texting him like this? Bored and uninterested as you spewed word after word of crass dialogue. He hoped you’d enjoy it like he would, sending flirty messages that would have him grinning at the screen.

“You’re replying to him wantin’ to eat you out with a straight face.”

“Yeah,” You scoffed, “The best of a bad bunch, I guess. At least he hasn’t asked for any nudes yet.”

Bakugou scrunched his nose in irritation at the thought of anyone getting to see that. The selfish part of him wishing that he could be the one that you’d send those photographs to. Posing in the prettiest mesh and lace as you posed for the camera, or maybe sending him a video of you strewn back against tousled sheets. Fingers buried inside your wet, warm heat as you cried out his name.

“You’re textin’ the wrong people,” He shakes his head, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, “You deserve better.”

“Where am I gonna find better?” You smile over your phone screen towards him, “Especially in this city.”

“I think you’re looking in the wrong places.”

“Wherever I look I just find the same stupid guys.” You sigh, shoving your phone away as you walk towards the exit, giving a smile and wave to the evening security guard as Bakugou nods his head.

Holding the glass door open for you to walk through first, “Yeah, we suck.”

[rafesslxt]

HEYYY, I was wondering if you can write an imagine Abt Mattheo. It being the reader having a rough day, and shutting down. And Mattheo is just there letting her know that he's there for her

sorry for the late answer I‘m answering all the requests right now 🫶🏻 — hope you still enjoy

ALWAYS THERE FOR YOU | m. riddle

summary: mattheo comforts you after a rough day

warnings: none but mattheo being the cutest boyfriend ever 🫠

words: 1k

As soon as I enter the common room of my house Slytherin, i let my shoulders fall down, sighing loudly. My feet bring me towards my dorm that I share with Pansy who is currently still in class. I throw my bag in the corner of my side of the room and let myself fall down onto the bed.

I know there are always people who have a much worse day happen to them and all, but I couldn't help but feel just so.. drained and sad?

I let out a sigh again and stand up, walking towards my closet. After rumbling through it for a little bit, I find my boyfriends Hoodie he gave me. Before pulling it over my head I wrap both of my arms around it and take a deep breath of it's smell. It smells like his cologne and cigarettes but in a comforting way.

I take off my skirt too and put on some oversized grey sweatpants which are perfect for my current mood. I lay back down on my bed and look at the clock on my nightstand. It's almost an hour before Mattheo's last class is over. I groan and look at the ceiling, thinking about what I could do until I get the idea to write in my diary. It's the first opportunity to get some thought out of my head, writing them down always helped. My hand reaches into the drawer of my nightstand where I full out a black notebook Mattheo once gave me. He said it would be cute as a new diary since my old one got full.

So I start writing down everything that comes to my mind until I fall asleep with the notebook open beside my head and my pencil still in hand.

Suddenly I feel something pulling the pencil from my hand, bit my eyes were too heavy to open them. I knew that it is Mattheo instantly as I smelled his cologne over me like a little cloud. Then I hear him shuffling through my sheets until he pulls me closer to him, wrapping both his arms around my body which curls against his.

"Sleepy?" he mumbles against my hair before kissing my forehead. "Had a rough day." I mumble back, nuzzling my head more into his chest. "What happened?" he asks with a soft voice, his fingers slowly starting to go through my hair. I sigh and try to get even closer to him.

"At first I spilled juice all over my blouse at breakfast which lead me to coming too late to Professor Snape's class. Which is a big problem itself. Then I couldn't answer even one of his stupid questions for what he scolded at me but didn't deducted any points for Slytherin which lead the Gryffindors to scold at me." I could hear him chuckle at the last part. " After that my Quill broke, my potion brewed over in Professor Slughorn's class, and back in the yard where I wanted to take a deep breath, some first graders somehow managed to throw a ball against my head. But when they saw my face when I turned around they apologized. I heard them whispering your name when they ran away though." Again, I hear him chuckle at the last part.

"I just feel like shit, Mattheo." I sigh, feeling my eyes getting teary. "Oh baby come here." he pulls me on top of him, wrapping both his arms around me again, one hand massaging my scalp. " I'm here for you okay? And I promise tomorrow is gonna be better than today. Besides that we have a lot of classes together tomorrow, son everyone who eve try's to scold my princess, got a big problem with me by your side." He kisses my forehead again before placing his fingers on my chin, turning my face up to look at him.

"I'm always gonna be here for you baby." he whispers before putting his lips on my softly, almost careful as if they were to break. His fingers slide from my chin up along my jaw, then placing his palm on my cheek, pulling me a little closer to deepen the kiss.

When he slowly pulls

back he smiles at me and goes "felling better?" I nod with a little smile and kiss his jawline. "Thank you." I whisper against his skin before laying my head back on his chest.

"Just gonna cuddle you all evening hm." he says with a grin that I can hear. "That would be perfect."

And we did. We cuddled all evening, listened some music and talked about his day too. We talked about the upcoming holidays and how we're gonna spend them together for the first time in our relationship.

"I have an idea, but I have to get up for it." he says, playing with my fingers in his hand. I groan and shake my head. " No, then I don't like that idea." He laughs quietly and looks down at me. " Oh believe me, you'll love my idea when you see what It is." I groan again and roll off of him, wrapping my sheets which smelled like him now over me.

He stand up and walks towards my door. " I promise I'll try to be fast." he says before leaving my room. After around 15 Minutes I hear the door open again, turning around to see him walking in with two mugs in his hands. He kicks the door shut behind him with his foot and strolls over to me with a smirk on his lips. "What do you have there?" I ask, getting up on my elbow. He holds one of the mug in front of me so I can see the content. I gasp when I see what it is, my favorite drink. Hot chocolate with marshmallows. I sit up and take the mug out of his hand, a bright smile on my lips now. "How did you-" "Doesn't matter. Just enjoy baby." he smirks, taking a sip of his own, leaving a mustache of chocolate above his upper lip, making me giggle.

He grins at me cheeky and licks it off with his tongue, placing his mug on my nightstand. I do the same and lay back down with him, in his arms again. "Thank you Matty. I love you." "I love you too, sweetheart. I'll always be there for you."

thank you for reading 🫶🏻

my current 1000 follower special and my masterlist

taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username 💞 [if u don‘t wanna be on the taglist anymore just write me a message <3 ]

xoxo sarah <3

[justauthoring]

soft astarion for the winnnnnn

(as im currently playing a ascended!astarion play through.......)

-

it had been a while since you had the chance to bathe.

the water was warm and soothing, a reprieve from the ache of battle that you haven’t felt in days. it washed over you with a peace you haven’t felt in weeks since you first woke up in that nautiloid and it was a feeling you relished in.

the hot spring you’d managed to find while setting up for camp was a gift from the gods it felt like and you’d been quick to claim the first turn of dipping into it before any of your companions had gotten the chance. none of them had seemed to mind either given you usually gave up more than they could ever thank you for.

and of course, just cause you claimed it first didn’t mean it was yours alone.

“does it feel good, love?” comes astarion’s smooth voice, as if he knew you were just thinking about him.

(sometimes you wonder…)

“hmm,” you hum, nodding as you flicker your eyes open to meet his across from you. he was smirking, eyes dancing with amusement as he watched you sink away into the calming water. he was still stood straight, the water only falling just above his hips and giving you a good view whilst. “definitely,” you smile, “the view is great too.”

he rolls his eyes but the chuckle that leaves his lips is undeniable. treading through the water to make his way over to you, you glance up at him just as his hands fall on your hips.

his grip is light but dominating, tugging you against him as your arms pull from the water to settle on his chest. silently you enjoy letting your hands drift across his smooth skin, fingers pressing into him as he raises a brow down at you.

“a little handsy there, darling.” he teases lightly.

your cheeks warm to a soft pink but you roll your eyes nonetheless, “like you didn’t jump at the chance to join me for a bath because you wanted to see me naked.”

astarion shrugs; “guilty,” he obliges. “but you misread my intentions.” his fingers dance across your hips, buried in the water, leaning down to press a kiss against the tip of your nose. “i didn’t want anything more than your company.”

you quirk a brow. “is that so?”

“yes,” he grins, voice a sweet melody. “want to know why?”

“sure,” you purr, “indulge me.”

he leans closer, shifting until his mouth is hovering by your ear. you shiver at the feeling of his breath against your bare and vulnerable skin, unconsciously leaning towards him in return.

“because you’re beautiful,” his whispers, voice husky and genuine. “i like simply looking at you because you’re art. pure and simple.”

his words light your skin on fire; the blush across your cheeks darkens, warming you up more than the water ever did as you glance back, meeting his eyes. he’s smirking, clearly proud of himself, lips spread wide as his eyes sparkle with mischief.

promptly you glance away.

“aweh,” astarion whines, “im sorry love, did i embarrass you?”

you refuse to look at him, heart pounding against your chest and your skin on fire with his endearing words. no one’s ever said something so heartfelt to you before and it tingles in a way you’ve never experienced.

his fingers grasp your jaw, not pulling but inviting.

“will you look at me?”

unable to resist him, like you’ve never before able to, you let him guide your attention back on him. your eyes meet his through the heat of your cheeks and your fingers tingle against him.

“there,” he grins, this time genuine and filled with adoration. “my pretty girl.”

“astarion,” you put, unable to handle it.

“what?” he laughs, not mocking but sweet. you love the sound of it. “i mean it.”

“that’s the problem,” you huff, not actually upset. “my heart can’t handle it.”

“well mine can’t handle you.”

you grow redder.

“you’re too good,” you snort.

astarion throws his head back with a laugh, shifting to hold you and bring you into his embrace.

then, he whispers;

“i know.”

[pinkyqil]

Fuck boy // Patri x Pina

Summary : just two bestfriends who happens to be madly inlove but one's just a straight up fuck boy or girl whatever you want to call it and are inlove but can't admit to it.

Notes : y'all wanted fuck boy patri x pina so here it's,gonna be a mini series so send me some ideas or what you'll like to see between them or how the tension goes

Pina was done with patri's fuck boy act everyday was her hearing about some new girl who landed in her bed and how amazing it was.

she was tried and had enough fantasizing about what patri was like. how she treated the girls she brought to bed wanting it to be her instead of some random strangers.

Yesterday the team had gone clubbing but Pina couldn't go due to being sick all weekend.and now she was stuck between mapi and patri who hadn't stop talking about some chick she had made out with last night.

Her jealous feelings where rising the more she had to listen about patri fawn over some girl she definitely had enough listening.

"Patricia shut up for once we get it already you made out with some hot chick like you always do now let some of us have peace". Pina told her before walking away.

"Amiga what did you do". mapi asked cause she's never really seen the duo be that mad at each other before.

"Nothing that I could think of I don't really know".

"Oh lord you got the tiniest one angry and don't know what you did your dead meat at this point". Mapi told patri before pulling her along to do some exercises.

Everyone else around them became a little bit suspicious as the duo hadn't done anything stupid or pulled a prank like they normally do on one of them. it made everyone low spirited especially the younger ones who got to pull pranks or have fun with the duo in general but a few were happy that they wouldn't have to deal with any of the duo shenanigans.

The rest of training patri had tried talking to pina but would just get ignored by the girl or when trying to do some drills together she would rush to someone else before she could ask it broke patri to see Pina ignoring her without knowing what she did wrong.

Pina on the other hand thought she's been doing well her plan was to ignore patri until she could sort out her feelings which look's like it would take a while cause patri doesn't plan on giving up.

"Pina please talk to me or at least tell me what I did wrong". She said getting in her way before she could move.

"Nothing now please get out of my way". She honestly didn't mean it that way but it came out way aggressive than expected.

"No not until you tell me what wrong". Patri wasn't going down without a fight even though she was hurt by pina's tone.

"Patri just drop it I don't wanna talk about".Pina told her once more trying to leave.

Patri knew she must have fucked up when she saw th way pina's facial expression changed on her cause she wasn't the type to be that mad at her through out there friendship.

"Before you leave how about I make it to this Friday there's this new restaurant that opened up let me take you there please".

"Fine can you let my hands go now". she said making patri drop her hand.

All night pina's mind was filled with thoughts of patri.

wondering how she could like her bestfriend well not wondering but like who wouldn't fall inlove with a tall brunette spainsh woman who probably has one of the greatest abs and also one spain biggest fuck boy to ever exist even though pina knew she shouldn't be feeling like this.

Friday came like a breeze pina was ready to face patri after a week of ignoring her while dreaming about how sexy she was..

Patri promised to pick her up which she came right on time. opening the door for her pulling out her chair which would be very out of character for the tall one.

"So I just want to apologize for whatever dumb thing i did that offended you to be that mad all I really want is my bestfriend to stop ignoring me and acting like I don't exist". She said.

"It all okay I probably over reacted a little too much sorry for ignoring you".

"So we good". She asked

"We are". Pina told her before she busted out laughing at their awkwardness.

There day at the restaurant ended up well except the part where the waiter passed by mistaking them for a couple which left both of them blowing different shade of red.

Patri had convinced Pina to stay over for the night as they had the weekend off.

Bad idea really bad idea.

Arriving at patri places they both had been playing fifa for hours in her room until patri had pushed pina on the bed trying to mess her game up.

"Puta stop trying to cheat just cause you can't play like me".

"Says the person who's the same as a baby bear". Patri told her before climbing on top of Pina who had just been laying on the bed.

before holding her hands together staring into her eyes.

The two of them found themselves in a un required position that would be when patri had pulled Pina by the waist and kiss her.

Leaving both of them in shock by her sudden actions.

What wil happens now? how would they both react!? Would patri pull away or counting kissing pina ???

A/n: cliffhanger causes why not 😝 this might be a mini series so send in more ideas and feedbacks as there heavily appreciated thanks for reading hope you enjoyed.

[jazminrhode1]

hiiii! if you're stil writing can you please write one where matt sturn and reader are just so in love and he cant stop telling people about her?

The Interview Matt Sturniolo x Reader One Shot

Matt was onto his 6th interview of the day. He set up his laptop at the kitchen table and you’d been sitting across from him all morning waiting for him to be done.

“Hi Matt,” you heard the interviewer say. He was less nervous now that he’d had some practice.

They asked the same old generic questions like, how his brothers were, how he came up with the idea for this project, and what inspired it. But, out of left field, they asked about you.

You saw Matt squirm in his seat across the table. “I hope that doesn’t cross a line,” she said sweetly.

“No,” he said, shaking his head a little too aggressively to be casual.

He looked at you and you glared right back. You hadn’t had this conversation in a while. You hadn’t spoken about keeping your relationship offline in the beginning but, it had been 2 years and things were different. Everyone knew and they reacted terribly but, the dust had settled since then.

You saw the look in his eyes. He was asking permission and you gave it to him with a shrug.

He let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxed; he looked happy.

“Y/n is great, actually,” he said with a smile.

“I know you don’t talk about her often but, I was wondering if you could tell us a little bit about how you both met?”

“Oh,” he said, “Well, she’s a good friend of Madison and we were all hanging out there a lot and, it just happened. She’s great. She’s perfect. She feels more like my home than any house ever did.”

You swallowed down the lump forming in your throat. It wasn’t often that you got to hear how Matt talked about you to other people. Sure, your friends told you that he gloats about you any chance he got but, you never heard it from him.

The next interviewer asked what made Matt fall in love with you and he explained, “Y/n is beautiful. Even more so on the inside if that’s possible. But, it wasn’t any one thing that made me fall in love with her. It was the love she has for her family, it was the way her smile lights up a room, it’s the kindness she shows to strangers, it’s the way that she can get through to me when no one else can. She’s the first person I reach for in the morning, she’s the first person I want to call with news good or bad, she’s my best friend and she is my favourite person in the world.”

His eyes were so intense on you that you thought he could read all of your thoughts. It was often like that. He was so attuned to you, so perceptive to your needs, so receptive to your feelings. Matt was, in so many ways, perfect. You could not have dreamed him up.

The final interviewer asked the same age-old questions. You mocked him behind the screen and Matt did his best not to laugh. He was tired, you could tell. As the interview came to an end, the interviewer asked one final question.

“You’ve gotten into writing a lot, I’ve seen a few passages that you shared on Instagram. What inspires you the most?”

Without hesitation, Matt said, “Y/n. She inspires everything that I do. I read a quote once that said, ‘If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.’ I like to think that if I write about all the people and the things that I love, I can never really lose them, you know? Even if y/n chose to leave me, I’d always have a piece of her with me”

There was silence on the other end. You started to think they lost connection.

“I think there’s a lot of people out there who 

“I’ve fucked up a lot of relationships but, I think it all needed to happen so that I can be the person I am now for y/n. You need to be open and receptive and believe that you deserve to find happiness with another person. Y/n is a much better person than I am but, no one will ever love her as much as I do. And I do. And I show her every day and I will for the rest of my life.”

Matt shut the laptop when the interview wrapped and pushed his chair back from the table. You walked around and sat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. His arms snaked around your waist as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck.

“I’ve never heard you talk about me before,” you said.

“I feel sorry for people. You’re all I ever talk about,” he replied with a smile.

Matt loved you. You knew that with every fibre of your being but, today showed you just how much.

[waldau]

menace — boo seungkwan | 2,058 words | fluff

inspired by this video. and ofc boo seungkwan :)

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

no one ever talks about the downsides of having a crush.

having a heart that beats erratically only when you see them. the way your hands turn unattractively clammy even if they’re within normal distance. you know, normal friend distance, because only one of you feels another way. voice cracks that spring up at the worst possible moments. the way you forget what you want to say when it’s your turn to speak.

maybe it’s fun sometimes, daydreaming about a world where you’re something else. something more. but that’s just what it is — a fantasy. the cons outweigh the pros.

case in point: boo seungkwan.

you don’t know how long you’ve been cuddling with your pillow, your back facing the man in question while you try to will yourself to sleep. it doesn’t work, just the way it hasn’t been working ever since you flopped onto your bed.

“you should be out with the others,” you murmur without looking at seungkwan, another variation of the same sentiment you’ve been trying to get him to understand for a while now.

seungkwan lets out a huff. “and you should stop telling me to go.”

you don’t need to turn to know he’s run his hand through his hair in frustration. you’re sure his hair is an adorable mess, but you don’t need any more fuel to add to the fire of feelings that’s been raging inside you all evening long.

when your friends suggested renting a beach house for the weekend, you didn’t realize they’d put you and seungkwan in the same room. you’re best friends, they’d said. of course you’re going to room together.

seungkwan isn’t half bad at being a roommate, but it’s a bit of an issue when you have a massive crush on him that you’re really trying to stop thinking about.

annoying seungkwan with his annoying smile and his annoying hand that rested on your thigh half the time you were playing monopoly. his annoying leg that touched yours when you were watching a movie because there wasn’t much space left on the sofa, but he had to have you next to him because he’s never been good with horror.

even when you’d offered to hold his hand from where you were sitting on the sofa, he refused till jeonghan moved to make space for him to sit next to you.

in a way, you’re glad you sat next to him. at least you didn’t have to pretend like you weren’t scared, not when you had vernon and wonwoo sitting in front of you, watching the screen unblinkingly.

it’s all been a bit…much. which is why you decided to skip going on a walk along the beach with the boys and head for a night in, citing a headache.

the only problem? boo seungkwan wanted to be the one to take care of you.

“do you want me to get you anything? water? medicine?” he asks, soft, and you feel bad for making him stay behind for something that isn’t even an issue for you.

“no.”

“should i sing something?”

“no.” the last thing you need right now is boo seungkwan serenading you while you’re wallowing in your feelings about him.

it’s neither of your faults that the moment you realized you were in sharp, blinding, no-taking-back love with him was when he clinched the match point in a badminton match against junhui four months ago.

four months ago. a badminton match.

your life hasn’t been easy since.

you’ve never minded seungkwan being touchy before — that’s just how he is. he brushes stray lint off your clothes if he spots it, fixes your hair if he thinks it’s out of place, and traces the back of your ear for a few seconds when you’re nervous about something.

you love it. you love being his best friend. but what you don’t love is the way you’ve been carefully rethinking every interaction you’ve been having with him since that fateful night four months ago.

boo seungkwan is sunshine incarnate. he loves and loves and loves. he loves everyone so much that you don’t know if the love he has for you is any different from the love he has for everyone else.

sometimes you wonder if he has even the slightest hint. he’s not clueless, but he’s not very good at acting on his impulses the way you are. for him, everything needs to be measured. set in stone. approved of beforehand. something you wonder if you could just kiss him and see what happened, before realizing that a moment of happiness is not, in fact, worth a lifetime without boo seungkwan.

which is why you let out a deep sigh and curl in on yourself.

“okay, that’s it,” seungkwan says, and you hear the sound of your laptop shutting and the springs of your bed creaking before he comes into your line of sight, kneeling down on the floor in front of you on his knees, head propped up on his arms that are folded near your face.

if he was a bit closer, you could’ve even kissed him.

you wonder who let boo seungkwan be this perfect. there’s nothing about him that you dislike.

“you’re not telling me what’s wrong, and i’m not leaving till you do. you should know that by now.”

you do know that. you’re very familiar with boo seungkwan and his incredibly stubborn self that just wants to help because he loves to. he loves people. and he just doesn’t love you. not the way you want him to.

“it’s your fault,” you mumble childishly, trying to turn to the other side so he’ll have to repeat the whole ordeal, but he just grabs your hand with an iron-strong grip. damn him and his long fingers.

his fingers, weirdly enough, were the first thing you actually noticed about him when you first met him. the way he drank jeonghan under the table with his long, elegant fingers wrapped around the beer glass, draining it like it was water.

this evening, too — his fingers drumming on your thigh, his fingers brushing against your hand, his fingers brushing your hair behind your ear so that he could whisper his plan to you.

“i knew it,” he says, head lifting from the bed. “it’s not just a headache. it’s probably not even a headache, is it?”

“shut up,” you mumble, more out of the fear that he’ll find out somehow than the mortification stemming from the fact that he’s caught on so easily.

“is it really my fault, though? you’re not even letting me make up for it.”

he should be out, you think. out with the rest of your friends and out of your treacherous heart. instead he’s sitting here with your heart in his hands and he’s not even aware of it.

“you can’t do anything about it,” you huff.

“try me.”

when it becomes clear that he’s seriously not letting go of your hand even after a few minutes of silence, you turn to look at the ceiling, eyes fixed on the little cracks above you.

“have you ever…wanted something you can’t have?”

“of course i have,” he says instantly.

“oh. did you get it?”

“no,” he says easily, letting go of your hand. “but it doesn’t mean i’ve stopped trying.”

now you’re curious. you let go of the pillow so you can see him better. “what is it?”

“i’m not telling you.”

“oh, come on!”

seungkwan leans forward to ruffle your hair. “not till you tell me what’s bothering you.”

you sigh. “i can’t.”

“why not?”

“because…”

“hmm?”

“because.”

“wow,” seungkwan says, with a small laugh. “i didn’t know you were this articulate.”

“i hate you,” you say with no heat, turning around and lying down again. maybe he’ll get bored in a while and leave you to your own devices.

no such luck. one moment you’re staring at the blank wall of your room, and the next thing you is that there’s a weight on the bed right behind you. seungkwan’s weight behind you, to be specific. he’s so warm all the time. one of his hands snakes around your waist gingerly, and you tense up immediately.

sure, you’re best friends, but you’ve never done this before. sleepovers are a common thing for the two of you, but cuddling? you’re not uncomfortable, exactly, but you just don’t know what to feel.

“can i ask you a question?” seungkwan asks, and his proximity makes goosebumps rise on your arms. embarrassing.

“sure?” you manage to squeak out, definitely not focusing on how much better his voice sounds so close. and how casual he’s being about all this.

“are you really going to let random strangers on the internet control your life?”

you’re so confused by the tangent he’s gone on that you have no choice but to turn around and face him, and— bad idea. bad idea. his lips look so damn kissable that you have to physically lift your eyes from them to meet his. and he’s smiling for some reason.

you don’t know how you’re going to sleep tonight, much less make it to the next day alive.

“do you want to kiss your guy best friend?”

you feel like he’s stolen all your words. you’re aware you’re just staring at him, blinking like a goldfish, unable to speak. seungkwan lifts a hand and hovers it above your cheek, seeking your permission. he catches the minute nod you give him and rests his palm against your cheek, hand warm against your cool skin.

“i don’t care what she said,” seungkwan continues. “do you want to?”

“how did you—” you manage to choke out.

“because i can see what posts you’ve liked, silly,” seungkwan giggles, thumb swiping against your cheek before he lets go. you instantly miss the heat of his hand. “you still haven’t answered my question, by the way.”

he doesn’t seem upset, the way you thought he might be at the discovery. “if i say…yes?”

“then,” seungkwan says, leaning down, and what comes next is something you’ve only ever dreamed of. his lips are soft against yours, letting you set the pace as his hands gently card through your hair. he’s always been gentle with you underneath the teasing exterior he has, and now is no different.

when he doesn’t pull away despite your fears, you decide to take the leap and thread your hands through his hair, pulling him closer to yourself. he comes to you willingly.

you don’t know what to do with your hands when seungkwan finally pulls away. he’s out of breath. you feel oddly proud, but there’s also an unsettling feeling in your stomach. what if—

“please tell me this isn’t a one-time thing,” seungkwan says, finally looking nervous for the first time all evening long. “because then i should’ve listened to her.”

“no,” you say, feeling yourself smile like an idiot. “no. neither of us should listen to her. i don’t want it to be a one-time thing, either.”

“good,” seungkwan sighs, moving closer so his head rests on your shoulder.

“but…how long have you known?”

“how long? hmm. only a month.”

horrible. he’s been watching you suffer all this while?

“hey, stop being shy on me now,” seungkwan says, turning to look up at you. “i’ve seen the way you look at me.”

you’re sure there’s steam pouring out of your ears. “i hate you.”

“no, you don’t,” seungkwan singsongs. “because i love you far too much for that.”

you look down at him. “you…” love me?

but that wasn’t ever a question, was it? he does. you’ve seen the way he looked at you before you realized your feelings for him, and the way he’s been looking at you after, and there’s been no difference.

he’s always loved you. maybe longer than you’ve loved him.

there’s a warm feeling spreading through your chest that makes you push seungkwan away and hide your head in his neck so he doesn’t see you. he lets out a little laugh and rests a hand on your back.

“do you want to go out and introduce everyone to your…boyfriend?” he asks, shy, and it’s a sight to behold because boo seungkwan’s always anything but shy.

“boyfriend?”

“does it sound okay?” he asks sheepishly.

he gets his answer in the form of a kiss.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

[suempu]

hiiii could you write some nsfw headcanons for chilchuck with a reader who’s insecure about their body?

gn + implied human! reader + kinda dominant chilly chuckles

<3

oh my, that man is not good with emotions. one of his flaws is that he’s kind of bad at dealing with them since they leave him in a vulnerable state. it was no secret that he’s emotionally constipated, his past wife left him because of that.

but ever since you came along, chilchuck has been slowly improving, not wanting a repeat of what happened. he’s acknowledged that by loving someone, he needs to be able to be open with his feelings and become mindful of yours.

once you work up the courage to tell him, he visibly stiffens up. chilchuck is silent for a few seconds, he really wasn’t expecting this while he was kissing you up.

he spends a few moments awkwardly fiddling with the buttons of his half done shirt as he thinks of the right words to say.

“…. i… don’t really care about what you look like.”

okay. he could’ve worded that better.

“i-i mean! i enjoy being with you… for who you are.”

chilchuck’s biting his lip, looking at you hesitantly as he reaches a hand out to you. he’s looking anxious before you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

he yelps as he’s tucked into your chest, letting out a sigh of relief that you don’t seem upset. you pull away and look down at him with a smile.

“you suck at this.”

“i know.” he sends you a grin.

placing one hand around you, he pushes you gently to sit on the bed. he stands in front of you and holds your face, nuzzling into your nose which brings a laugh out of you.

“i know i’m bad at… this kind of stuff but i meant what i said.” he looks at you seriously, big ears twitching as hair strands falls to his face, rough and messy after your heated lip-lock earlier.

“i’m nothing but an old, brooding man. i love the way you make me feel and i want… you to l-love how i make you feel…. regardless of what you look like.”

he can see how you’re biting back a snicker as he tries to get his act together. chilchuck can feel his face getting hotter as he hears your bubbling laughter. but he’s glad you’re less nervous as before.

“y-you think this is real funny, do ya?” he yells out.

he’s kinda grumpy after all that, feeling a bit embarrassed that you laughed at him. after a few kisses smothered on to his face, he slowly gets back into the mood, making sure to pay extra attention to your reactions.

if you ever cover yourself up, he will give you a peck while slowly taking your hands off and whispering reassuring phrases.

he will kiss down your body as he keeps his eyes on you, forcing you to watch him. when he finds out which part makes you insecure the most, chilchuck will leave open mouthed kisses and suck a hickey on it.

with his enhanced hearing and senses, your quiet whimpers and gasps gets him going as he touches and feels you thoroughly with his fingers.

since this is your first time being intimate together as a couple, he makes sure to treat you softly and gently. he’s attentive to the spots that make you moan out the most, notices how you grip the sheets harder when he licks and sucks on a certain area. all of them noted in his head so he can figure out what else you’ll like.

chilchuck groans breathily, he’s kind of ashamed to lose control of himself, thinking it’d only embarrass himself.

“am i not making you feel good..?”

“where did this come from?”

“you don’t… make as much noises as i do. i’m wondering if i’m not doing enough.”

once he hears your reason, he immediately rushes to assure you. though still a bit hesitant, he’ll try to let go more the next time you’ll get intimate.

can i just say he’s skilled at giving oral. his hands and fingers can take you to god and back once he finally finds out what specific things you like. he loves being all in there, loves your smell, your sounds, your fluids.

he doesn’t say it out loud though. which makes you wonder why he keeps asking if you could fuck his face whenever you two do it.

“is this some sort of kink of yours?”

“just say yes or no!”

after one round, he can get pretty spent. but if you’re still needy, he can muster some energy to make love to you slowly.

oh, and he lives for lazy morning sex. sometimes you’ll wake up to him kissing down your shoulder and arm, whispering small ‘wake up’s to your buzzing ears.

aftercare with him is… well, lazy too. he’ll drop to your side, breathless as he stares up at the ceiling. after a few moments he’ll sit up and look down at you on the bed, whispering sweet praises as he holds your face.

he’ll smoke for a bit, facing away from you. he doesn’t want you to cough from the smoke after all.

drags you to the bathroom after a few moments. he hates being sweaty and you’ll have to kill him before you force him to snuggle right after sex.

chilchuck just doesn’t like feeling gross, he’d want to be clean as soon as possible. he will fuss over you during bathing. divorced father of three but with the way he’s acting makes him look like a mother.

he will scrub you down to the bone but will be less aggressive if you tell him it makes you uncomfortable.

“put your clothes in the basket, dry your hair, make sure you brush your teeth properly.”

“i always do! follow your own advice, you alcoholic.”

“i will drown you in this tub.”

what a nice and loving man, am i right

after bath time, he’ll lay on his side with nothing on but some underwear. his arm is around your torso as you fall asleep while he watches you with a soft smile, fingers tracing soft shapes on to your skin.

8/10 for being emotionally constipated but an A+ for trying. (i’m kidding he’s great)

[beatopia-films]

FARMERS DAUGHTER part i !

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings : strong language and just cuteness!!

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━

“chris!” nick yelled at his brother. “stop using snapchat filters on the goats.” he continued, watching as chris kept taking photos.

“look how cute they look.” chris laughed, showing his brothers the result.

matt listened to his brothers bicker as he took over filming the vlog. “do you think if i asked nicely, they’d let us feed them?” he asked.

“they fucking better. i mean, look at their little faces.” chris responded, pointing at the goats.

“okay, i’ll be back in a sec.” matt told them, walking off and looking for someone who worked there.

he walked around the farm for a while but there was no luck in finding anyone. “guys i think i’m lost.” he spoke unsurely to the camera.

the sun was shining in his eyes, causing him to squint as he walked through the grass. he couldn’t see where he was going when all of a sudden he knocked into something…or someone.

“shit, i’m so sorry.” he immediately apologized to whoever it was. “no, it’s okay!” the voice of a girl caught his attention.

he looked over at her and his heart raced. she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his entire life.

“did you need help with anything?” she politely asked with a smile on her face, putting down the bucket of water she was holding.

matt was completely speechless. he couldn’t even form words. “oh…uh…yeah. i just wanted to know if it would be okay to feed the goats?”

“absolutely!” she replied. “come with me and i can set you up with some bags of food.” the girl gestured for him to follow. “i’m y/n, by the way.” she introduced herself.

“i’m matt.” he copied her actions and followed behind her.

the two entered a small cabin like building and he watched as she picked out the correct bags before handing them over.

“you can feed all the goats except for ronald, he’s the blonde one. he will definitely try to steal the food but it upsets his stomach so we tend to give him a different diet.” y/n explained to the brunette who nodded attentively.

“okay. no feeding ronald. got it.” he let out a small laugh. “so, do you live here or is it just work?” matt questioned, lowering the camera slightly.

she was caught off guard by the sudden question as nobody usually would ask her about herself. “my dad owns this place, so i grew up here.” y/n told him.

“that’s really cool.” matt responded. “i’d love to work with animals, it seems therapeutic.”

“it is very peaceful here. whenever i feel stressed, i just go to the animals. my horse, cowboy is always there for me when things get tough.” she found herself opening up to him.

matt was taken back by this but thought it was nice to meet someone who could talk about their feelings with no shame or embarrassment.

“your horse is called cowboy?” he asked y/n, finding it quite humorous.

“yeah, it’s kinda strange but i named him when i was 13 so i guess it’s getaway-able.” she nodded with a smile.

“no, i think it’s interesting.” matt reassured her.

“would you like to meet him?” y/n offered, nervously pulling at the hem of her white dress. “he’s just over in the stables.”

“i’d love to, that’d be great.” he immediately agreed, ready to walk with her already.

the two made their way to the stables where all the horses were staying. it was surprisingly quiet as the farm was quite busy during the summer holidays.

y/n walked over to a dark haired horse and stroked it softly. “this is cowboy, he’s getting old but he’s still cute.” she grinned, feeding him some hay from her bucket.

“you’re right, he’s cute.” matt agreed, standing next to her. “you can stroke him, he likes the attention.” y/n told him, watching as he stroked the horse slowly.

matt was really starting to like this girl and hoped to see her again some time. he finally grew the confidence to ask her out.

“i was wondering if maybe you-“ his moment of confidence was broken when a familiar voice called out. “there you are!” chris yelled. “we’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

the truth is, matt had completely forgotten about coming with his brothers. “sorry, i got caught up.” he quickly apologized to them.

“why does that horse have better hair than me?” nick suddenly asked out of nowhere, causing everyone to laugh.

“you can borrow a bottle if you’d like.” y/n joked. “he wouldn’t mind sharing, would you cowboy?” she looked up at the horse.

“i’ve actually been meaning to find a new brand.” nick continued to speak. “did you ask about the goats?” he looked over at matt.

“yeah, i did. we can feed them all but not ronald.” matt explained, memorizing y/n’s words from earlier.

“who the fuck is ronald?” chris asked, giggling to himself at the name. “dude sounds like he was born in the shakespeare era.”

“he’s the blonde one.” matt told them. “we can’t feed him because of his stomach. the food doesn’t sit right with him.”

y/n smiled as he spoke. he actually remembered her exact words. she hoped that maybe she’d see him again.

a few minutes passed by and the brothers were feeding the goats with smiles on their faces. she watched from afar as she started to clean up the stables a little before closing time.

“chris, you’re not supposed to feed ronald!” matt yelled at his brother as the goat munched on the food happily.

“i forgot, sorry.”

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━

[verdantcrimson]

Kanna Natsu Idol Story - 2

Written by: Akira

Season: Spring

TL: verdantcrimson

Proofread: @revuestarlight

[Two years since ES was established. In the ES building infirmary.]

Kanna: ……

Hinata: Goood morning!

Yuta: Today, we’re thinking of playing a hidden camera prank on the talk of the town, child prodigy, Kanna Natsu, when he wakes up!

Hinata: Because both of us in 2wink love pranks!

Yuta: —and since we've been in the business for the while, the agency was like, “C'mon, show your junior how things work around here. You guys love that sort of stuff, right?” 

Hinata: There's a difference between playing a prank and bullying, though!

Yuta: But we can't disobey the agency. That's just life, y'know? We've gotta work hard and pull this off in order to maintain our character image.

Hinata: Why do you seem weirdly pumped about this, Yuta-kun?

Yuta: This guy is Kanna Natsu, y'know…… Everyone's making a fuss about what a genius he is, but he's still just a brat, and seeing him get more attention than us pisses me off.

Yuta: We've gotta punish this ill-mannered newbie, don't we?

Hinata: Whoops, it's getting hard to keep my brother's wickedness in check these days, yknow~?

Hinata: Ah, but he's acting like this on purpose because that's the kind of image he's decided on! Yuta-kun is actually a good kid!

Hinata: All of you watching at home, please don't misunderstand!

Yuta: Hell yeah, that's the perfect excuse. Now, no matter how cruel and inhumane I behave, I can just say it's because my agency or my producer told me to play that sort of character.

Yuta: I can use that to justify my bullying. Hehehe. 

Hinata: How wicked… Looking at you these days makes your big brother worry, Yuta-kun.

Hinata: …..Hm?

Kanna: ……

Kanna: ……?

Hinata: I knew this would happen. Look, look, Yuta-kun! Natsu-kun is awake already! 

Yuta: Huh, No way. He looked like he was fast asleep— Maybe we made too much of a racket?

Hinata: What should we do? Should we abort mission? I didn't really want to do an unfunny and old-school prank like that anyways, so I'm fine with it.

Yuta: It sounds like you were making a fuss on purpose so that the plan would fail.

Kanna: Good morning.

Hinata: Ah, yup. Morning. You sure slept well.

Kanna: Yes, thank you. Though sleeping isn't something I do for leisure.

Kanna: I don't get the opportunity to sleep when I'm occupied with research, so I try to sleep as much as I can whenever I find time.

Kanna: Also, if I pretend to be asleep, everyone will leave me alone.

Hinata: Oh, so you were just pretending to be asleep? Then, did you realize we were trying to prank you?

Kanna: Yes. Though, even when I'm asleep, one half of my brain stays awake.

Yuta: Are you a dolphin?

Hinata: That's so genius-core.

Kanna: I think anyone could do it with enough training. 

Yuta: Tsk tsk tsk. It's exactly because all that training is so tedious that nobody would ever be able to make a name for themselves as a genius.

Kanna: I see. I understand now.

Kanna: I think that if anyone focused all their efforts on a single thing for approximately a year, they could become an expert in that field. 

Kanna: Only a child like myself would be able to concentrate on a single thing for as long as they want to, correct?

Kanna: Any adult, I mean, essentially everyone, requires time to eat, play, socialize, and maintain their physical and mental health.

Kanna: It is quite difficult to concentrate on a single thing.

Kanna: That is why they fall short of success. Yes, people who are able to do that to some extent from the very beginning— Only they are successful and lauded as geniuses.

Kanna: If everyone is limited to only being able to spend a fraction of their time on their efforts, then only those who are privileged are able to succeed and win.

Kanna: That is the reason, correct? It's logical. I can understand this.

Hinata: I've been wondering, what on earth is this kid going on about…?

Yuta: You like making theories about other people based on their behavior and then feeling like you've understood them, don't you?

Kanna: Yes. Because I'm around that age. That's adolescence, I suppose.

Hinata: Yeah, well I don't believe that! If you treated any older kid like a ‘teenage brat’ they'd get angry and rebel. They'd never admit that they're going through puberty!

Kanna: Maybe that was just the case for you, Yuta Aoi.

Hinata: … Oh? Huh? Ermm?

Kanna: It's easier to live when you believe that your ‘normal’ and the world's ‘normal’ aren't congruent.

Kanna: I've long since given up on that sort of premise.

Kanna: I'm different from everyone else. I'm certain, nothing can be done about this.

Hinata: Ummm… I'm terribly sorry if we're boring you or something, but I think there's been a misunderstanding, so let me clear it up.

Hinata: I'm Hinata.

Yuta: And I'm Yuta.

Kanna: No.

Kanna: I know about you two. The twin idols from Cosmic Productions, 2wink.

Kanna: The two of you have changed your marketing strategy as of late, with the older brother Hinata continuing to present as a cheerful a good kid—

Kanna: —While the younger brother, Yuta, differentiates himself from his older brother by growing out his hair and selling a ‘bad kid’ image.

Kanna: That is what the established theory is.

Hinata: The established ‘theory’?

Yuta: Those are just facts.

Kanna: What are illusions?

Hinata: Huh, why'd you bring that up suddenly? What are you talking about?

Kanna: An illusion, or ‘sleight of hand’, is something that takes advantage of people's imagination.

Kanna: You make the world think that ‘the twins have differentiated their appearances and begun walking separate paths.’

Kanna: That way, you can do as much deception as you please.

Kanna: The twins that are supposedly never interchangeable, swap places in secret. Older brother becomes younger brother. Younger brother becomes older brother.

Kanna: Characteristic differences in hair length can also be accounted for using wigs and such.

Kanna: People tend to assume based on their prior knowledge, that ‘the one with longer hair must be the younger brother,’ since both brothers have similar facial features and so on.

Hinata: … Even if all of that were true, what good would it do for us to impersonate each other?

Kanna: Simply put, you two probably just enjoy those sorts of tricks.

Kanna: Furthermore, there are countless merits to being able to switch places. That is probably why having twins swap places is considered taboo, even in the most hard-core of detective novels.

Kanna: It's simply too convenient. It'd be used to forge alibis to no end, because now, anything goes.

Kanna: Additionally, if you succeed at your trivial ‘swapping places’ prank, you'd be able to make a fool of the child prodigy brat that everyone is making a fuss about, correct?¹

Kanna: You'd be able to say “That kid acts like he's a genius, but he's an oblivious idiot who couldn't even notice we switched places.”

Hinata & Yuta: ……

Kanna: 2wink is a unit comprised of a ‘good kid’ older brother and a ‘bad kid’ younger brother.

Kanna: Recently, it seems as though the two of them have truly diverged and are trying to pursue their own paths.

Kanna: That is why. Even if the younger brother was specifically requisitioned for work that would earn him points or experience as a ‘good kid’— The older brother would swap in and take his place. The reverse applies as well.

Kanna: So the two of you steadily gain experience and continue growing, correct?

Kanna: You're each trying to specialize in being a ‘good kid’ and ‘bad kid’.

Kanna: Waiting for an opportunity, with nobody any wiser.

Yuta: ……

Kanna: I don't have much interest in anything. However, I find your impressive tactics very interesting. 

Kanna: I'm not trying to get in your way. However, by exposing your actions like this, I can render your footage unfit for broadcast.

Kanna: Even if what I said just now might be untrue.

Kanna: If the world's people begin to doubt you, you'll have a hard time operating. They might begin to think things like “Maybe they've swapped places?” or “Are they playing tricks?”

Kanna: All the earnest and serious people of the world will begin to view you poorly.

Kanna: That probably would not be desirable for you.

Kanna: I apologize. Being filmed and broadcasted in my sleep is quite embarrassing.

Kanna: That is why I have taken these preventative measures to keep it from occurring. Please understand that I bear no ill-will towards the two of you.

Kanna: That is all. I'm going to go back to bed now. Goodnight.

Kanna: Zzz, zzz.

Yuta: ……

Hinata: … He ended up being the real deal.

Yuta: Yeah. I figured it was just the usual hype you see on TV and magazines.

Hinata: (But really, I never thought he'd notice we ‘switched’.)

Yuta: (Yup. I thought nobody could tell. But this kid saw through us, probably just through a glimpse of our activities on the news or on the internet.)

Hinata: (To top it all off, just in case— He made sure we wouldn't get in trouble even if we did air it, by following it up with “what I said might be untrue.”)

Yuta: (He didn't want to inconvenience us, so he acted considerately.)

Hinata: (This brat sure acts full of himself. I ought to scribble on his face while he sleeps.)

Yuta: (Give it a rest already... Let sleeping gods lie, Yuta-kun.)²

Hinata: (You're such a good kid, Hinata-kun.)

Yuta: (And you’re a bad kid, right, Yuta-kun?)

Kanna: Zzz, zzz…♪

Hinata: (This kid might be incredible— more than anyone could imagine.)

Yuta: (But his sleeping face is adorable, just like any other normal kid's would be, y’know)

Translation notes

He's repeating back the same phrases that Hinata and Yuta used to describe him while he was 'sleeping'..

The original saying is '触らぬ神に祟りなし' which is means the same thing as 'let sleeping dogs lie', but I retained the 神 portion because I figured it might be a fun play on Kanna's first name '神無'

[bronx-bomber87]

Hello my wonderful fandom family :) We're finally back to new eps. I wasn't ready for this episode in the least. Idk I was ever gonna be ready tbh. If this isn’t the most apt ep name ever following the last ep. Bare with me as I once again sort through my thoughts and such. I'm really struggling with the 'mini' portion of these reviews the last few eps.

Ain't nothing mini about my emotions haha But I am sure come summer they'll be more refined for sure. Also thank you to anyone who reads these thoughts and enjoys them. It's still a trip to me people appreciate my thoughts. I just want to be a ray of sunshine and positivity with these.

A source of comfort while we all go through this together. Cause that's the beauty of fandom. Going through it together. Once again wanna preface there will be ZERO tolerance for bashing of any kind. They are both going through it right now. We all love these characters so much its why we're on here. I love conversation and comments but not spreading hate. With that in mind let's start eh?

6x07 Crushed

Tamara moving out still..... Ugh. I’m so sad about this. Truly the end of an era right here everyone. Also Lucy not wearing her necklace gut punch already to my feels...Poor Lucy wants her to stay but would never ask Tamara to do that. I wanna cry already for Lucy....I hate her necklace being missing and it's very obvious it's missing. *sad sigh*

I do love Lucy taking Tamara out to fancy dinner least. Channeling her emotions into something positive. Wanting to love on her before she goes. Tamara mentioning Tim getting kicked out of Metro…She isn’t wrong it is down hill after the pinnacle of Lucy indeed. Trying to give her a compliment but Lucy isn't taking it that way. I wanna cry for a second time. She looks so distressed. *sigh* Two massive pillars in her life are now gone and it's felt in this brief moment.

Tim in his old Metro office disassembling it. My heart. You all know how much I loved him In Metro. Killing me. Also just shows how much of a nose dive he took after this Ray debacle. Grey seeing this and sighing before going in after him. Tim seems like he’s in robot mode when Wade enters. Saying all the things he thinks Grey wants to hear since he’s back. No real emotion behind it. Just the grunt mentality he thinks he should have.

Gonna be more than just his trust you’re gonna need to earn back my love….Love Wade having him to ride along with Dr. London. Anyone needs it our boy does right now. Of course Tim bites back on this idea why wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t be Tim if he didn’t. Tim saying breaking up with Lucy has nothing to do with the Ray situation. Uh... it has everything to do with that my love EVERYTHING.

Grey standing his ground saying if he wants to regain his trust this is where it starts. I love him saying breaking up with Lucy and being bounced back to patrol due to being reckless makes him question his judgement. As it should…You forget Timothy this man watched you grow with Lucy for years. Saw how much she made you grew and joy she brought out in you. Of course he is questioning your actions. He just watched you throw away the best thing ever that's ever happened to you. Your judgement is being judged severely....

I adore Wade Grey. He's not only putting Tim in his place and saying he could mandate therapy (which he would be justified in doing...) Or take the ride along. Then saying he’s taking Lucy out too. Just so he knows he is looking out for them both in this moment. The man knows what he is doing.

I can’t believe Smitty doing breakup odds. I’m incensed by this tbh. Also I want punch the dude who said Tim would’ve cheated. He would NEVER. How very dare you. I hate that list. It makes me wanna rage out so hard. If any of them knew them at all they’d know it would never be something like that. Also her and Aaron? Ewww no no no.... Lucy had every right to ream Smitty out more than she did. So inappropriate it's insane. For shame sir truly.

I'm glad she shut it down. Last thing they need is the station gossiping about them like this. They're going to anyways but Ugh I hate this whole thing. I feel sick. Of course she runs into Tim right after.... Worst timing ever. Breaks my heart because he still is excited to see her but she isn't ready for him. How could she be? He looks so sad. But Tim what are you expecting my love? No way she is ready to be near you let alone talk. This hurts to watch…Lucy trying so hard just not to have a meltdown right there in the station.

I was very excited for him to have this ride along I will say and this opening scene is why. Dr London on his ass already. I love it. As she should be. Saying he’s bringing Aaron as a buffer. Which he is… Classic avoidance attachment style. That’s our boy. She’s not wrong he prefers surface level relationships (other than Lucy...) to a deep intimacy. His default state with anyone who isn't his girl.

She has him dead to rights already. Saying it’s a defense mechanism when someone is raised by an overly strict or domineering parent. A father. She’s not wrong. We all know his history. Tim of course isn’t about this whatsoever only making her assessment about him even more valid. Their scenes starting off real strong.

Grey wanting to check in on Lucy I do love it. He’s not wrong she’s been through HELL this year. The detectives exam, Jeff Budney and now losing Tim. God this hasn’t been an easy season for her. To say she's going through it is the understatement of the century. I'm hurting for her so very much. Her entire world has been rocked to it's very core in the last week alone. Not mention everything else before this.

It’s so awkward Lucy inviting everyone but Tim to Tamara’s going away dinner…. In front of Dr. London too. That shot from Tim’s body cam seems very intentional. As he looks at everyone she’s inviting but him. Way his head goes back and forth. Grey patting Tim on the arm on the way out. *phew* Rough start to the shift.

Of course their first call is disturbingly close to what she and Tim are dealing with. Not exactly what Lucy needs. Hearing this woman talking about thinking he was the one then it just ended. *heart clutch* Crushed is an apt name for how I was feeling during this episode.

Lucy has clearly kept this all inside for too long with her reaction to the situation. Wade would never set you up like that. Just shows how hyper sensitive she is atm. Why he's doing this ride along with her. He wants to keep you sane not crazy. I wanna hug her so much. 'I do watch too much reality tv. It's my bad' Lmao. Needed a little levity. This made me chuckle.

We hit the ground running about breakups with Dr. London. Honestly no need to beat around the bush for this observation of Tim. ‘Breakups are a trigger for many men. Especially since stereotypical gender roles prevent them from seeking out help. For fear of appearing weak.’ If that isn’t Tim and this entire situation right now…

Hell that's his ENTIRE life. He was shamed into never wanting help and if he did he was meant to feel weak for it. Just like she is stating above. She is very good at her job and just getting started. Tim can't hide in any of his normal brush off statements. Which I love. She has him pegged already and it shows. Quite the opening jab from her to start this off.

Lucy looks on verge of tears at all times right now and I’m dying. Especially when Grey brings up his name. Asking if they’ve talked since the breakup? Melissa straight killing me in this shop right now everyone. Those pre tears.....Saying she thought he didn’t care about her personal life. He’s not wrong if it affects her job it does matter. The point of this ride-along. To gauge where she is currently.

‘Smart to make the connection between IA and them breaking up. ‘Just a bad week.’ Oh its so much more than that…. Lucy protects him of course with the unethical portion. Bad place or not she's not going to cast any suspicion with that. But It’s so very clear she is painfully unaware why he did this to her. To them.

Only that he’s not emotionally available to her. *sigh* This is true. The man is a disaster zone atm. I mean he’s definitely occupied mentally in a way she doesn’t understand yet. Hell I don’t even think Tim understands it really. All he knows is he think's he's toxic and she’s better off without him. Which is a huge part of this episode tbh.

So she isn't wrong he is not emotionally available right now. That much is painfully true. The joke about the Diamondbacks was funny but sad at the same time. They found good way of getting little funnies in there with Grey. I do appreciate that. I'm a sports girl so I this made me smile.

Dr London really coming at Tim in this next section. She is wasting ZERO time with him. ‘Lot of romantic feelings start out as platonic love.’ Going right for it when she says he and Lucy were friends first right? His reaction…Gonna makes me bawl Eric. Hurts to watch this. Looks like he wants to cry. Ugh Tim. Killing me softly. She is getting under his skin quicker than he was expecting and you can tell. Hitting at a very raw nerve he's trying to keep hidden. He looks so distraught and emotional when he replies 'I was her T.O.'

Tim saying he’s not depressed. Oh my love….but you are. Depressed and wracked with a massive amount of guilt. ‘I broke up with her.’ So so defensive. Can’t let good doctor see this whole thing is crushing him. That would be weakness. He is fighting off a panic attack in this moment. So unsettled by this entire interaction. She is picking up on that guilt that is all but exuding out of him in this moment.

She really brings it home saying internalizing guilt and shame leads to self directed anger. Self harm and suicide. If that isn't Tim Bradford my god. The self directed anger is him in spades. His face while she tells him all this.. Oh my lord. She has him dead to rights once again. He is experiencing so much guilt about it and it’s written all over his face. Tim is barely keeping it together while she is telling him stonewalling will only get him sidelined. Honestly I’m glad she’s confronting him like this. Coming at him so hard cause Tim needs that especially right now.

He can’t have passive people in this life when it comes to this kind of stuff. The one person who could knock sense into him he’s pushed away. So Dr. London being here is much needed. Of course Tim snaps at Aaron cause he can’t handle what he’s currently going through. Lashing out because what she is saying to him is true and he isn't able to handle it. Hitting very close to home. So he's defaulting back to S1 Tim in this moment. Destroying Aaron in the process..

I love them talking about Tamara and the unconditional love Lucy has shown her. It’s so true. It’s that love that gave her courage to leave. Even though it's hard to watch happen. It shows what accepting unconditional love can do for you. Lucy bringing back to Tim because how could she not? Mentioning about letting people go even if you really care about them them. *sigh*. You can tell she is on the verge of tears once again.

That feeling where you've been keeping it inside for far too long. It comes out in anything you talk about. Like right now in this moment. Even talking about Tamara is cycling back to Tim and it shows how deeply upset she is. How could she not be? She is losing two of her people in one fail swoop. It's a miracle she hadn't lost it sooner than this moment tbh.

Lucy crushing me some more in this episode. Further proving she has zero idea why Tim did what he did. How he could let go so easily. It was a blindside for us all but none more than for her. His person. The one who never ever expected him to leave her side. Tim did leave her with a cheap cliche nonsense about deserving better. It's so much complex than that but I can see why she is so angry about that. She deserved better than that.

It’s what upset her so much in that 6x06 scene. Because it felt like a cop out to her. When it’s so much deeper than that but Lucy doesn’t know that. Thats what killing me and her. Lucy going off saying it was her decision to make what she deserves. It’s true. She is so justified in saying this. Sadly Tim made that decision despite her willingness to love him no matter what.

Took away her choice to keep him even if he felt he wasn't worthy. Wasn't just HIS choice to make. That's what pissing her off and rightfully so. He doesn’t understand the unconditional love she had to give him or how to accept it. All he could see was how much better she was without him. All she wants is a real conversation with him and she didn't get to have that. He took the choice away from her and she's left holding the emotional bag of it all and it sucks.

Punches keep rolling with Dr London. Attacking his problem at it's damaged root. As much as he is trying to bury it he cannot hide from her and her assessment of him. This is a huge turning point in the ep. Tim saying he owns his mistakes and moves on. So cut and dry and she isn’t having ANY of it. Nor should she. He hasn’t moved on in the slightest. Once again pegging him for not only not being over it but having his whole identity being wrapped up in acting honorably. If he was past that he wouldn’t have ended things with Lucy. We wouldn't be here. But he feels not worthy and not honorable enough for Lucy so he cut ties.

Her noting it’s had a devastating effect on his self esteem. Which is why he is punishing himself. i.e He let the love of his life go. He feels he doesn’t deserve such things for being so un-honorable. My broken boy. Tim isn’t sure what’s she is getting at. Asking what she's talking about? She continues to portray him accurately. That he is punishing himself by depriving himself of something he loves. Something that brings him joy. Or someone....Clearly that someone being Lucy.

The joy she brought to his life he no longer feels he deserves. Lucy was the one constant in his life that made him happy. So he’s depriving himself of it in order to punish himself. This sounds so harsh and severe but I relate to this. When I was new at my current job. I wasn’t very good at first. I was down right on the verge of being fired. I got a game plan to fix myself from my leader. BUT I was punishing myself for not being good enough in the first place. How did I do this? I took away something I loved and brought me joy. Music.

I refused to listen to music during my job because I felt I didn’t deserve it. I wouldn’t let myself enjoy it till I was better and had earned it back. I got to a place where I let myself have something I loved back and it helped so much and ultimately got me through it. So I relate to Tim doing this to himself i really do. He is denying the one person who brings him joy because of that self-punishment. He feels he has failed who he should be therefore he can't have what he wants and needs most. Lucy. You can really see it hit Tim by time Aaron rejoins them. She hit the nail on the head and Tim is feeling it.

Lucy spotting Tim and touching her tattoo SO MUCH. Ugh my heart. Her grounding method to remind herself she's a survivor. The problem with all that is him being the reason for that reminder. Which just hurts. I'm not crying you are....Tim so out of his depth all he can do is be awkward with his ‘Clocking out?’ Babe....No...(Also I feel personally attacked by this song they chose for this scene.)

Lucy calling him out for it instantly. Because well she’s his person. Bad place or not she is always gonna tell him what he needs to hear. Won't let him hide behind niceties. Confronting that things aren't ok between them and she won't let him use it to hide. Asking for a real adult conversation with him. One which he is NOT ready for. This hurt to watch not gonna lie. This whole situation hurts.

Tim deflects….with another cheap answer of saying he can’t give her what she wants. Ugh. You are everything she wants you foolish man. I don’t blame Lucy for cutting that convo off at the knees. She wanted more depth from him and got nothing in return. Telling him he has more to figure out than she realized…and feeling like she is no longer than person to help him with that.

My heart is breaking all over again… Lucy always felt she was his person to get him through anything and to hear this only hurts her further. Coming to that realization and taking off because of it. The song running through this scene is poignant and hurtful…Also the continual clutching to her tattoo as she departs from him. I'll just be weeping in the corner don't mind me....

I wasn't expecting the scene we got here in Grey's office. But was so pleasantly surprised. My hope was that Dr. London broke through to him. That his ride along with her wouldn't be a one-off. I’m so proud of Tim I can't even tell you. To not only see he has work to do but to ask if he could start seeing her as a patient. He seemed disappointed she didn't mandate sessions. Which he needed so he could advocate for himself. Blair had pegged him early on and I think this will be so so good for him.

His healing journey is starting now and I’m so excited for him. Even though my heart is outside my chest right now for our couple. This is going to be good for Tim. I know people have been weird about Dr London. I haven’t gotten a bad feeling from her. I could be wrong but haven't gotten that. I think this is the healing Eric was talking about. That journey he needs to be in order to find his way back to Lucy. Grey's line was perfect. It's SO hard to ask for help. Tim can see something is wrong and wants to fix it. This is a beautiful start to this journey for him.

This final scene with Tamara and Lucy made me cry. This whole ep has made me cry really. Their relationship has always been one of my favorites. To watch how they’ve both grown. How Tamara learned to trust again and receive that unconditional love Lucy had to give. Gah I love it so much. Took a broken untrusting girl and molded her into a confident bad ass. I've never been able to classify what they are. They're sisters, friends and family all wrapped up in one.

Hard to watch Lucy lose this piece of her life on top of everything else. Tim may have a lot of growth to do but I think Lucy too has room to grow from this all as well. She has been given quite the bad hand in this season. Maybe she can get some direction and clarity what she wants to do with career and such. I hate that she has to be the collateral damage to everything this year. It's hard to watch. But I am interested to see how she handles it all. See how she stands after all this. I think as hard as this is will end up making her more resilient.

Lucy been struggling with her own stuff this year as well. Being so good about pegging everyone around her but being blind in her own self awareness. it's going to be interesting to see how Lucy handles everything moving forward. I hope you all know how deeply my heart breaks for her. I don't like seeing her hurt anymore than I do Tim. I wanted to cry for her most of this episode. That being said I do think this growth journey will be good for her as well. Like Eric said she'll be ok they'll grow stronger from it. Can't wait to see how it plays out.

I wasn’t expecting one more scene with him reaching out like this. Telling her she was right. He’s mad himself. That stark realization that is coming over him. My god I’m so proud of him I could burst. Not only advocating for himself but telling her it was an emergency. When everything inside him is trying to do the 'honorable thing' and not call it an emergency when it is. To see he's not being a burden by reaching out like this. It’s so hard to take care of yourself when you don’t think much of yourself. It’s a foreign feeling and to act on it even more so.

Learning it’s ok to ask for help, to be imperfect, to set healthy boundaries and grow. Not an easy place to get to. This scene is HUGE for Tim. Now I mean this in the nicest way I can muster but If you can't grasp how groundbreaking this is for him you don't get him as a character at all. Nor do you understand the gravity of this SL/situation. Of what this final scene represents for him. Tim is seeing something is broken within himself and he doesn't know how to fix it. All he knows is something is wrong and he doesn't want to feel this way anymore. He wants to understand why and to get better.

I know I spent most of my 20's running away from therapy. Saying I didn't need it. That it was non sense. Pushing everything down and deflecting like Tim did. Wrapping my identity in the same things. Being SO DAMN HARD on myself. I still struggle with this but learning to give myself more grace. I can't properly explain the feeling you get when you realize you can't out run your demons anymore. What sets off something inside you that says 'I don't feel right, I don't know how to fix it but I know it's time to.' All I know is what sets it off is different for everyone.

For me it was the fact that I was set off by a kind comment. It was from a sweet lady who was a client of mine. Who commented on earrings my mother had gotten me. I hadn't thought much of it then she looked me in the eye with so much sincerity and said 'Your mother must love you very much.' That comment just hit me so hard. Triggered me. Cause some of my deepest seated trauma comes from my mom. I remember getting in my car and crying after. Texting my sister and telling her I thought it was time I got help. All I knew was something was wrong and it was clawing to the surface and I couldn't ignore it any longer.

That's Tim in this moment. Ray resurfacing was his demons coming up for air and not going away. This is his 'Come to Jesus.' moment about himself. Knowing what Dr. London was telling him today rang true. He just doesn't know to handle it and is reaching out for help to sort it out. Now He couldn’t gotten to this place without Lucy let’s not forget that. Tim wouldn't be in the place he is without her. BUT this is not Lucy's responsibility to fix. Nor should it be. As much as we love her being his person, this is Tim journey to go on.

Now my family/friends got me to place where I could see I needed help. Just like Lucy has for Tim. But it was up to me to take the first step. That's what this scene represents for him. His first step on his journey to healing himself. He knows he has work to do and I know he'll do it. He and I are alike and he will put his all into this. I'm excited the writers did what they did in this ep. Shows they're going to put the proper care into this SL. I can see a pathway way to their healing now and I feel like I can breathe for the first time in three weeks. I'm excited to see where the rest of the season goes for them both I really am. As always thank you for any likes, comments or reblogs I get for these they mean the world.

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford. Mostly lol

I like the idea of Celina moving in but she’s not wrong it would be an emotional minefield… but do love the idea of her living Lucy I don’t want her to be alone. Have one little win for her.

This was the song during that finale scene. Thank you D to finding the link above. it's Chenford Personified in this ep. Once again whoever is doing this songs. You need a damn raise this hurt so good. The lyrics were so Poignant and painful. These one were my fav. 'I miss you. I miss you. I’ll always forgive you."

She will forgive Tim because that's who Lucy is. One of the many reasons Tim fell in love with her. That never ending desire to trust people and forgive them. To see the best in them. She will look at the deeper meaning of his actions and help him past them once he gets there himself. He will have to earn that forgiveness of hers and I have no doubt he will.

This will be a process of that I have no doubt. It won't be quick or easy but my god it'll be worth it. They always are. I don't expect this to be resolved by seasons end but I do expect them to be on their way there by the finale. This is a beautiful growth journey they're about to embark on and I'm ready to go on it.

[brainddeadd]

Scoups x fem!reader

angst, fluff

Sometimes, Seungcheol really hates Minghao.

“You guys are way more than friends. You’re like already three years into a relationship.” Minghao's been rambling on for at least fifteen minutes and honestly, Scoups is getting to the end of his patience. Soonyoung's starting to join in the conversation and Minguy looks five seconds away from adding his opinion.

"I mean honestly, you guys are so in love and it's really stupid that you haven't confessed yet-"

"XU MINGHAO!" Everyone in the dorms freezes and stares at Scoups in shock. "I know I'm in love with her!"

Minghao gulps and attempts to raise his hand to point at where you had turned into the room, but Scoups knocks it away.

"I am well fucking aware that I am in love with Y/n, ok?" Scoups face is red, his body shaking. "But she will never feel the same as me and I can never treat her the way she deserves."

"Uh Coups-"

"She deserves someone who can spend all of their time with her, take her on random dates and surprise her while she's at work. I can't give her any of that." Seungchol wipes away the tears that have begun to fall from his eyes. "And it fucking kills me that I'm not going to be the one to give her the love she deserves. That I'm going to have to watch the love of my life fall in love with someone else. Watch someone else give her half of the love she deserves because they will never be good enough."

Not even Satan himself could stop Scoups from his word vomit.

"No one will ever be good enough for her, but literally anyone else would be better than me." Seungcheol's voice breaks. "So, can you please stop rubbing it in my face that I am in love with her and can do nothing about it?"

Scoups walks away, wondering off to a different part of the studio and you're left standing there, in the doorway, staring at the space he's just left.

"Uh.. I think I fucked up." Minghao's talking but you can't hear him, too focused on making your body move, forcing yourself to follow the path Scoups took, despite not knowing what you're going to say to him.

Minguy gently grabs your arm and points to the roof and you nod in understanding. Scoups hides on the roof when he's feeling big emotions.

~~

You find Scoups sitting on the floor of the roof, staring out at the sunset that's taking over the sky like a painting.

"Hey." Your voice is soft, but he still jumps like you've shouted. He turns to look at you just as you sit down next to him.

"Y/n-"

"Shut up and listen to me." You know you sound harsh, you can see it in the way his eyebrows jump up to his hairline. "I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen."

He nods, not used to seeing you like this.

"I heard you in there," his eyes shut in- what you're not sure. "And firstly, I love you too. But that's not the important bit here."

"How is that not-"

"I said shush."

His mouth snaps shut.

"That bullshit about you not being good enough for me? Crap. Utter crap. How dare you lie about the man I love like that?" You're pissed off with him for that. Fuck.

"You are incredible, Choi Seungcheol, and I don't know what I have to do to make you finally understand that." You take his face in your hands, feeling his cheeks heat up from the force of his blush. "I love you."

"I love you."

"You're more than enough for me."

"I can't-"

"I don’t care that we can't see each other all the time or that you'll be away for a long time travelling or that you're so busy sometimes I think you're dead." You're smiling at him now. "I do care that we're in love with each other and you haven't kissed me yet."

He doesn't waste a second. His hands are on your hips and in your hair and roaming your back and squeezing your thighs and holding your face and he really just can't keep them still. Your hands move from his face to his hair, your arms curling around his head as you hold him to you, and you sink your weight into his lap on the floor.

He pulls away entirely too quickly, but neither of you can catch your breath.

"I love you."

"I love you."

You sit like that for a while, you in his lap, your arms around his head, his arms around your torso, foreheads resting together, before he breaks the silence.

"I've gotta apologise to Hao, don't I?"

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 14

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader Summary: Miguel continues to try and move forward with subtle changes in his life. He has some reflections about life and you. You cross paths with an old friend from the past. A rainy night at Miguel's penthouse. Word Count: 28K Warnings: This chapter takes place over the span of three days; Reader feels anxious and nerves; Miguel is so supportive here I want to give him a big kiss and hold his pinky finger until I fall asleep; Miguel Previous Part MasterlistMusic Inspo (You can find the official Spotify playlist for the fanfic here) "Adonis and Amara" - Ludwig Göransson "Ab Ovo" - Joep Beving "You Could Start A Cult" - Niall Horan "To My Son" - Daniel Pemberton "quiero sentirme bien" - Kali Uchis (thank you to the reader that suggested this song to me a while back) "Can I Call You Rose?" - Thee Sacred Souls "El Muchacho de los Ojos Tristes" - Jeanette (thank you to the reader that said this song reminded them of Miguel and reader, I've been thinking about it ever since and 😭😭 I love this song sm, so it was perfect)

Enjoy and thank you for reading!! 🫶🏼❤️

Part 15

Miguel places two mugs of café de olla on a tray, steam rises into the air, reaching his nose. It’s one of those evenings in which you have both gone separate ways after dinner to give each other space. Miguel wasn’t planning on making any coffee, but he suddenly had the craving for it while he was reading in the living room, and knowing how much you love it was Miguel’s final and biggest motivation to get up from the couch and make it.

He turns to a glass dome-shaped cake stand and takes the lid off, uncovering fresh pan dulce he bought earlier for the two of you.

In a matter of seconds, Miguel has two dessert plates with pan dulce and the two mugs on the tray, along with some napkins. He doesn’t want to intrude on your space, so his plan is simply to give it to you and leave you alone.

He knows you’re either in your bedroom or in the office upstairs, the one he’s told you numerous of times that you can use. He reenters the living room, tray in hand, ready to go upstairs but halfway through the room, his red eyes stop on one of the walls, the one next to the stairs.

He can’t help himself, so Miguel stops and admires it. For the first time since he moved into the penthouse and Gabriel and his mother decorated the place, there’s a new change to the space. To anyone, this is probably a small one, insignificant even, but to Miguel, it’s a large change and one that warms his heart.

The once empty and vacant wall is now decorated with some photographs and not just simple, plain standard ones, like those that can be found on other walls around the penthouse that were once placed by Gabriel and his mother several years ago when Miguel first moved in.

No. Miguel’s living room, for the first time, is decorated with photographs of his loved ones.

It’s only been a few days since that morning on the rooftop when Miguel asked if you could help him redecorate his place, but already, this new change is a sign of it.

Together, the two of you have worked on this project over the last few days. Since he requested your help, Miguel and you have spent evenings on the living room floor, heads low and eyes focused on the tablet Miguel gifted you several months ago for Christmas while you helped him create a mood board.

“What is something you know for sure you want?” you asked him that following Saturday night, gazing at him with curiosity.

And though Miguel hadn’t thought much of it since he had only asked you the day before, he immediately had a response to your question, one inspired by you.

“This wall,” Miguel said, turning to look at it.

You nodded and gazed at it.

“A clean canvas,” you said, which made Miguel turn back to you.

He felt a sense of wonder and awe in that moment because for so long, he saw that wall, like the rest of his place, as a sign of emptiness - of the void in his life. And then, there you were, making Miguel see it in a positive light. A clean canvas, one that he can fill with happiness.

“Photographs,” Miguel said with a gentle smile. “Like, your wall with all the photographs. I’ve always liked it.”

And that was all Miguel needed to say because if he liked that aspect of your apartment, then that meant that Miguel wanted his family’s photographs in display.

The two of you spent some time shopping for picture frames, ones that go with Miguel’s new theme to begin the small project. As of now, there’s already a few adorning the once empty wall. You’ve taken a break, unwillingly, since the last few days at the Spider Society have been rather busy with anomalies causing chaos in other universes and the recruitment of new members. Due to that, Miguel and you have come home tired and with little energy to continue. Despite there only being a few photos, Miguel feels great about it.

It’s a new change.

Staring at the photos, Miguel can’t help himself from feeling like this is a new beginning. The thought scares him somewhat, his old way of thinking wants to creep back on him. The old Miguel, the one from two years ago, wouldn’t want a part of this. He would frown about this, about opening up to someone so much - about letting someone into his life, into his heart.

Shock, Miguel realizes, the old him wouldn’t even be here right now, standing in his living room holding a tray with café de olla and pan dulce for him and his best friend on a week day at 7pm. No, the old Miguel would be in the lab right now, preparing for a long night ahead of him reading data and reports through his marigold-colored screens. His red eyes would shut close for a few seconds every once in a while as an attempt to fight off sleep to avoid nightmares of Gaby. The old Miguel wouldn’t be here, right now.

Miguel wonders now, where would you be? Would he had offered his place for you to stay due to the fire at your building, even if the two of you were not close, and just mere colleagues? Would you had even accepted, or would you’ve stayed with someone else, in another universe?

These and other questions come up in Miguel’s head, going as far to the very beginning.

What if he never accepted your help to organize the lab? What if he never went to your apartment the day you were unwell? What if none of this ever happened because he didn’t allow himself to share a shred of a side of him he had kept locked away after losing Gaby that day, when everyone seemed to be unbothered by the fact that you hadn’t show up, and he was? He told himself it was merely concern for your universe - for the fate of the multiverse - but he realizes now more than ever, that his caring side had slipped from his grasp unknowingly that day. What if he had realized it, that he was not only concerned about the multiverse, but also about the young woman that failed to show up that day because it seemed so unlike her to not show up on time, to not give a heads up that she had something going on, and what if in realizing that he was about to let you see that side of him, what if he didn’t show up and simply had Lyla do a wellness check?

Would any of this have happened had he not made those decisions? Would it had mattered at all, or was Miguel, somehow, in a long string of loss and hurt, destined to be here, in this very moment, holding a tray with food, not just for him, but also you, his best friend?

Was it always meant to be like this, or was Miguel, for once in his life, merely granted a sliver of luck?

Miguel’s eyes turn away from one of the photos to another one, one of him and you, his best friend. The fact that he can think about it so easily, without any hesitation feels unreal. He actually admitted to you that you’re his best friend after fearing that fact for so long, and yet, his lips uttered those words only a few days ago. Not only out loud but to you, in person.

He has no regrets nor fear about it. And thankfully, Miguel thinks to himself, he also doesn’t have to live with the regret nor be haunted by those very questions - by the what if - because it’s already been done. He silently thanks something bigger than him, he’s not sure if it’s divine intervention or maybe something else, but he gives thanks nonetheless for being here now despite everything.

Miguel smiles softly at the photograph, this one being from New Year’s Eve consisting of you, Mayday, and him welcoming the new year. His gaze shifts to another one from the day he helped you put together the bookcase. There’s still more that he wishes to add of you and him, of Gabriel, Gabriella, and even his mother.

For now, however, the photos that have made it already make him happy.

There’s the photo of Gaby holding her soccer ball and smiling at the camera, her smile sweet and endearing. There’s Gabriel when he graduated from high school, his cheeky smile always present. Then, there’s one of Miguel and Gabriel after Miguel graduated from college, and of course, Gabriel had to make a silly face for it. Some of the memories make Miguel’s heart ache, for it reminds him of days when he used to have his brother around. And of course, he misses his little Gaby terribly. His gaze turns to the side, a single photo of both his mother and wife have also made it, to honor them.

Miguel’s heart aches, it does, and maybe it always will. He’s slowly begun to realize that it’ll ache in a different way, even with time. He’s learned that from you. The loss of loved ones will always hurt, but one learns to embrace the moments and the time that one had the privilege of sharing with them, and to hold on to that instead of the grief and loss. It’s how you honor them, by who they were in life and the moments they shared with us. Those are the things that one ought to hold on to when it hurts because it’s those very moments that lighten the heavy emotions.

For years, his grief and pain didn’t allow him to do such thing - to display photos of Gabriel and his mother, and with the loss of Gaby and his wife, even less - but looking at them now, Miguel is filled with a sense of warmth and happiness.

There's still loss and grief but unlike before, when that was all Miguel could feel, there's also warmth, happiness, and even more love.

It’s a small change in the large penthouse, but one that already makes the place feel much warmer, more like… a home.

Home.

With a soft sigh, Miguel smiles and continues on his mission to find you. He’s halfway up the stairs when he realizes you’re definitely in your bedroom.

Miguel briefly thinks about that - how it’s your bedroom. He used to call it Gabriel’s room, even the guest room, but now it’s your bedroom. It’s how he refers to it. Your bedroom. He knows even when you return to your universe, he’ll be referring to the room as such. As Miguel climbs the rest of the steps, he pushes away the heavy feeling that suddenly wants to spread across his chest, so he dismisses the last thought away, far from his mind. He doesn’t want to think about it.

Instead, he focuses on the now. Your bedroom door is open and light pours out onto the hallway, illuminating it. Music fills his ears and it grows louder with each step Miguel takes until his maroon eyes finally find you. You’re on the ground, your back against the bed’s side, and looking down at something - a photo album, Miguel realizes.

He gently taps the door with his foot to get your attention as he’s holding the tray with both hands, which immediately makes you look up. You greet him with a smile that only grows warmer as you spot the mugs, the kind that makes Miguel feel like it’s his reward for making the café de olla, filling him with great satisfaction.

“I hope I’m not interrupting too much,” he starts with a soft smile.

“Not at all! Come in,” you say happily, an invitation Miguel immediately accepts.

He steps in, crossing the short distance before he carefully hands you a mug. You thank him and take a small drink to avoid burning yourself before you pat the place next to you. “Would you like to sit? Unless you’re heading back downstairs?” you say looking up at him, hoping he’ll stay.

Miguel smiles. “I wouldn’t want to disturb you. You seem to be busy.”

“I’m just looking at some photos, it’s nothing too important,” you say. “I could even show you some?”

That makes Miguel smile even more.

“Alright but first, do you want some pan dulce? I bought you some,” he says placing the tray on a desk.

“You also brought pan dulce?” you say happily. “I’d love some, thank you!”

Nodding, Miguel grins and hands you a plate with a piece of bread and a napkin before he settles down next to you. You take a bite from your polvorón, a Latin shortbread cookie that Miguel is very fond of. The soft, crumbly, and sugary cookie melts in your mouth deliciously as you eat it before you take a sip of coffee. After you wipe your mouth clean with the napkin, you lift the photo album and show Miguel the page you were on. “Teenage years… Don’t judge too much,” you joke and Miguel chuckles softly.

“I would never,” he says as his red eyes take in the page, filled with curiosity and wonder to see and learn more about you. Sure enough there’s you as a teenager during some school function. He takes in every detail.

You turn the page and there’s suddenly a lot of photos of Peter and you as teenagers. You look at the pages fondly, something Miguel notices before he returns his gaze to the photos. He silently wonders if at this point the two of you were dating - a thought that reminds Miguel about how you and him have had a life before meeting each other. You’ve lived and laughed, spent days with people he’s never known - and probably never will - and that thought, for some reason, makes him feel like he’s missing something. It almost feels like Miguel longs to have been there, to have been in each other’s lives much sooner.

Miguel is in his early thirties and you’ve only been in his life for two years, a fact that suddenly feels heartbreakingly wrong to him, but if life treats him with more kindness than it has in the past, and if Miguel can help it, he’ll do his best to never push you away, so you can be a part of his life until his very last breath, whether that is tomorrow, or in forty years from now.

Miguel sighs silently as he comes to that conclusion. He’s no longer pushing anyone out of his life, especially not you, who he turns to look at now. You still have that soft look on your face as your eyes gaze at the photos.

“We were just friends at this point. He had already been at my school for a few months but we quickly became best friends and then, well, you know we started dating,” you share softly.

Miguel nods, scanning the photos. Your words settle in and just when something goes off in his head, something about your words that almost lead him to a thought, you turn the page.

“Oh, look! This is when we went on a field trip! Senior year of high school,” you tell Miguel, showing him a picture of a group of kids, Peter and you included.

Miguel blinks, unsure of what he was about to think about but now the thought is gone. He’s sure he’ll think about it later, in the future.

“Were these all your friends in high school?” he asks, tilting his head to get a better look at you and your friends.

“No, I only had two close friends, including Peter. The others were friends but in a different way. We were in clubs together and the such. I didn’t have a big friend group, you know?”

Miguel looks up at you and grins. “I was the same. Small group of friends. It was better.”

“I always thought so, too,” you reply with a grin of your own. “I guess now is the only time we have a large group of friends.”

Miguel raises an eyebrow.

“You know, the spider gang. As adults, now we have a large group of friends. I like it.” You glance down at your photo album again. “And well, we have - each other, too,” you say with a soft smile forming on your lips.

It’s been a few days since Miguel verbally admitted that you’re his best friend, and every time you think about, every time you remember him saying it - your heart races. You’re filled with happiness and pride for Miguel. You know it must have taken a lot for him to admit it, but at last, though, the two of you said it.

It’s out in the open now and ever since then, you swear something has changed. It’s like things are easier, the air is lighter. You swear Miguel has been far more playful these past few days than he was before, throwing little smiles and smirks your way.

Even members of the spider gang asked what happened because according to them, Miguel has been in a, “great mood.”

“Are you sure that’s Miguel from this universe?” Hobie asked as the two of you walked to a meeting earlier this week. “I find him more tolerable these days for some reason.”

“Hobie,” you warned him with a soft smile, though not harshly. You know Hobie and Miguel have their own dynamic, but there’s still respect. The bickering has decreased especially since Miguel and you have grown closer. Somewhat. At least, it’s more on the playful side, you think. “Of course it’s our Miguel. Why wouldn’t it be him?”

“Yeah, I know, I know. You have a sweet spot for him, and him for you,” he replied with a little smirk that you missed as you entered the room first. “Our Miguel, huh?” Hobie said with a soft hum, as if pondering something, but you didn’t have time to think about it because Miguel was already at the head of the table with two cups of coffee, one placed in front of him and the other where you’ve sat for months now, next to him. No one even tries to take your seat, even when you arrive just in time due to emergencies at your universe. It’s as if that spot is your assigned place and now no one messes with it.

Miguel smiles at your words. Yes, you have each other now, have for a while despite how long it took him to admit it. He feels a warmth spread through his chest at the thought. He finally said it, what he’s been wanting to say for so long.

Miguel’s hand closes into a soft fist while he sits next to you as he thinks about the day he admitted you’re his best friend. It was hours later at his lab when you walked out to get something that Miguel truly realized what happened. The realization of what he did rushed through him and he found himself looking at his hand, the one with which he held yours the whole night. He didn’t meant to, all he had wanted to do was his pinky hug gesture, but it seems that at some time during the night, a sleeping Miguel felt comfortable with doing more.

He felt comfortable about it even when you were both awake. He did offer his hand to help you up, didn’t he? Miguel swallows softly as he remembers this, how you declined his help as an attempt to respect his boundaries regarding physical contact, but the truth is that Miguel wanted more, even if just for a few more seconds.

He yearned for it.

He did, otherwise, he would’ve easily activated his suit to avoid direct skin to skin contact but Miguel didn’t. He kept his hand out for yours and felt it. The sensation and the thought of it stayed on his mind the whole way upstairs until he got in the shower, only for the thought to return once again hours later as the two of you hung out in the living room that evening.

The day was an interesting one in regards to sleep. You both ate and drank coffee to replenish yourselves and fight off any sleepiness during the day. You were successful and even managed to create a mood board for the penthouse that evening, sitting side by side. An hour and a half later though, the two of you fell asleep while the telenovela played in the background after you both returned to your respective couches, hoping to not fall asleep so soon. You both failed the task, though you passed out first.

Miguel remembers thinking it was expected. You stayed up far longer than he did while you watched over him. He knows that because Lyla later mentioned it in passing with a soft smirk, as if the fact was amusing. Seeing you passed out, Miguel now remembers standing up to cover you with the same blanket you shared the night before up until that early morning. He wasn’t cold himself but he thought maybe you were, so he covered your body and with a soft smile, heard you make the softest and most endearing sound of content, welcoming the warmth. It made him stand over you for a little bit, watching your sleeping form through his own sleepy red eyes, his ears capturing your gentle breathing.

After a minute or two, Miguel returned to his own couch and fell asleep within minutes, watching you through heavy eyes while the telenovela continued to play in the background. As he began to doze off, Miguel thought of the night before and how you had both fallen asleep on the ground, just a few feet away from each other. And for some reason, which he decided was exhaustion at the time, Miguel wished that night would’ve ended the same way in that moment.

Miguel’s fist uncurls as he comes back to the present, his mind running with all these thoughts and memories. He glances at you again with a warm smile, thinking about your words about having each other now. “We do. We have each other,” he says softly and before he can stop himself or truly realize what he’s about to say, a single word straight from his heart slips past his lips. “Always.”

A heartbeat later and with your own smile, you reciprocate it. “Always.”

Smiling, you stare at each other. Something in your chests is ignited, like a soft gold beam of light, glowing for each other.

Miguel’s cheeks have a gentle pink hue on them and your smile is one of shyness, so you both take a moment to drink the rich, wonderful café de olla Miguel made while that single word echoes in your minds and hearts alike. An understanding passes between you, one that requires no further explanation, for that word alone makes an intention very clear.

You both intend to stay in each other's lives for however long you can.

There will be no pushing or turning away, especially not from Miguel, who used to do that with anyone who tried to get too close.

Until you came along.

As you take another drink, you both stare at the photo album, pinky fingers silently itching for contact, but you, as always, never want to push Miguel’s boundaries, even if physical contact between you has increased over the last few months; even if he held your hand while you both slept just a few days ago. Without even trying, you remember the way it felt to have his hand on yours all those hours, or the way his body’s heat reached out to you under the shared blanket before you push the memories away. All in due time, you tell yourself. Miguel has done some inner healing, and opened himself to you in more ways than you ever imagined in a short time. You have no doubt that one day he’ll be more open to physical touch, beyond hands, at least. Maybe one day you’ll be able to embrace him, not just for comfort, but maybe just because of sheer happiness, too.

One day, you tell yourself, one day in the near future.

For now, you hold your mug for a few seconds and refocus on the moment.

Miguel holds on to his mug, too, while he thinks about reaching over and offering his pinky finger, but he’s not sure that he should, not now. He turns his gaze to the photo album instead, trying to distract himself from his thoughts concerning physical touch. Maybe another time. He sighs softly, so gently you miss it entirely and Miguel himself doesn’t even register it, but if there was a third person present, they would’ve labeled Miguel’s sigh as one of longing.

You place the mug on the floor next to you, not between Miguel and you to avoid spilling, but instead on your empty side. It’s then that a small hint of color catches your eye from underneath one of your pillows. It's your sweatshirt, but it’s not the one you’ve been wearing these last few days to sleep in when you get cold during the night. No, this is the sweatshirt Miguel returned to you several days ago.

And yet, it’s not on your bed because you wear it to sleep but for another reason.

You turn to Miguel, his eyes are on the photo album, lost in thought, thankfully.

You discreetly push the sweatshirt further underneath the pillows, hiding it, while you keep an eye on him. You feel as though if he sees it, he’ll know the truth, which is that just like he finds comfort in your scent, you find comfort in his.

You know there’s nothing wrong with it. At least, you don’t think so. You’ve never had a negative feeling nor thought about Miguel finding comfort in your scent, or even the fact that the old audio recording of you sleeping helps him. If anything, you find it endearing, and knowing that such simple things from you helps Miguel sleep better brings you happiness because it means he’s sleeping properly these days.

Therefore, you’re not hiding the sweatshirt because of that but rather because you don’t want to risk making Miguel uncomfortable. You’re certain he wouldn’t react negatively to it but still, there’s that risk, considering only a few days ago Miguel admitted being best friends. You don’t want to take that chance, even if a part of you believes that you telling him might bring Miguel some relief since sometimes you can still sense some embarrassment from him when he accepts the new sweatshirt every weekend.

So for now, you’ll keep this little secret to yourself. Maybe in a few months you’ll tell him about it and how you came to the realization that his scent fills you with peace and comfort. You briefly allow yourself to think of that night, New Year’s Eve, when you took his scarf home with you after he wrapped it around your neck to keep you warm. That fact alone brings a soft smile to your face as you watch Miguel looking at the photos. It also ignites another rush of warmth through you, as it’s one of the most intimate moments Miguel and you have had. It was so unexpected but even more what he did later that night, when he dried your tears with it on the rooftop, just the two of you. He soothed your tears and feelings, and then you both joined the rest of the group, forgetting about the scarf entirely.

It was the next morning at your apartment when you realized you still had it. You remember finding and picking it up, feeling its softness. And then, maybe out of curiosity or sheer instinct, you brought it to your face to smell it and Miguel’s scent filled your lungs. Catching yourself in the act, you placed it back on the bed, where it had been, before you headed to the bathroom only to end up accidentally pulling it towards you when you were ready for a short morning nap since Miguel and you spent the whole night talking here, at his penthouse, after leaving Miles’s universe. You got settled into bed and when you noticed pulling it along with the covers, you didn’t put it away. Instead, you brought it closer to you and shortly after fell asleep, inhaling Miguel’s scent like it was the most natural thing for you to do.

That’s how you discovered that you find comfort in Miguel’s scent. And that’s the reason why you hold on to the sweatshirts when he returns them - simply to have his scent nearby at night because it lulls you to sleep like nothing else has in years.

You pick up the mug again and take a sip, glancing at Miguel. Maybe another time.

You smile at him as you hold your mug. “Thank you for the café de olla. It’s so good, as always,” you tell him, breaking the short silence at last.

“Of course… Always,” Miguel says looking up at you. He gives you a small smile in return, noticing yours.

“Next page,” you say, grinning at him before you flip the page on the photo album. “That’s my mom and dad, high school graduation day. They cried,” you share with Miguel.

“Understandable,” he replies, looking at the photos. “Their only child graduated. I would’ve cried, too,” Miguel admits quietly, thinking. “I would’ve cried watching Gaby graduate high school, but what a privilege it would’ve been to have seen it happen…” Miguel clears his throat and looks at you again. He gives you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I understand,” you say gently, reassuring him. You watch Miguel, thinking of a way to lighten the mood, of focusing on something much positive. “I have a feeling she would’ve been valedictorian, or at least top three in her class with how bright she was.”

That comment alone brings an affectionate look to Miguel’s face. He nods, knowing what you’re doing. Over the months and so many conversations, Miguel has noticed the way you always try to lighten his emotions, something he greatly appreciates. You always find a way to lift his spirits up. And somehow, you always succeed.

He offers you a gentle and warm smile. “She would’ve. I’m sure of it. She was very bright and loved learning.”

“Just like you,” you reply with a smile.

Miguel chuckles, his cheeks reddening just slightly as his gaze avoids yours for a few seconds in what seems to be shyness. “I - Thank you.” Miguel turns to look at you again with a sheepish smile. “You’re like that, too, you know?”

You chuckle and lift the coffee mug to your mouth to drink, feeling amused but also a bit of shyness yourself now. “I guess so.”

“You are.”

“Thank you,” you reply, lowering the mug. You gaze down at the photo album, feeling Miguel’s gaze on you the entire time. You mindlessly turn the page on the photo album. “I was thinking… It’s not too late. Not yet anyway,” you start.

“It isn’t,” Miguel replies, still looking at you, noticing the way you’re avoiding his gaze now. He’s turned the tables on you with the compliment and now you’re the shy one. He grins to himself, for some reason finding it amusing and yet sweet.

“Right, so I was thinking maybe we can work on the photographs? For a little while, at least. Only if you’re up to it, of course,” you say, finally glancing at him again. Your eyes instantly meet his red ones, making you wonder if he’s stopped looking at you even for just a few seconds. You have a feeling he hasn’t.

“It’s not too late, we can. If you’re not tired,” Miguel says, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of exhaustion as this week has been pretty busy at the Spider Society.

“I’m not. Plus, I have new energy thanks to this wonderful coffee,” you reply with a smile. “And I just know there’s more downstairs,” you add with a little smirk that makes Miguel chuckle.

“There might be some left.”

“I’m up for it then,” you say. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Miguel responds with a soft smile. “I’m in.”

With that, you stand up and retrieve your mug, finishing what’s left of the coffee so you can refill it downstairs. Miguel glances at the photo album one more time, his eyes landing on a photo of Peter, you, and one more young man all dressed in cap and gowns. He recognizes him from previous photos you had before you redecorated your apartment a year ago, but you’ve never talked about your old friends and well, neither has Miguel. He lifts the photo album and closes it before handing it to you, so you can place it back where it needs to.

You thank him and place it on the desk as Miguel stands up, ready to head downstairs with you. He silently thinks about the friends he had in high school. Maybe one day the two of you can talk about those days, recall old memories with people that are no longer in your lives.

“Ready?” you ask Miguel, grabbing the tray Miguel brought earlier to take it back downstairs.

“Ready.”

“Let’s go then.”

You gesture for Miguel to follow you and he does so without thinking about it. In a matter of seconds, you’re both in the living room.

“Do you want more café de olla?” you ask him.

Miguel looks at his mug and shrugs. “I guess I could go for more.”

“Here, I’ll refill our mugs then.”

“Thank you,” Miguel says as he hands you his mug before you head off.

You take care of the tray and dishes, and serve both yourself and Miguel more coffee before you return to the living room. Just as you enter the space again, you find Miguel by his record player and a second later, music fills your ears. Seeing Miguel use the record player always makes you smile without failure, especially knowing that he truly enjoys it despite the fact that he lives in a futuristic dimension where record players are not the norm. You’ve noticed that his collection of records has grown in a short amount of time, and at this rate he might beat you in having a larger one in just a few months.

“What are grinning about?” Miguel asks, raising an eyebrow.

You chuckle and shrug your shoulders. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” he asks, curiously.

You walk to the coffee table from which you’ve been working from, spotting a stack of photos and several frames ready for use.

“Your collection of records. It’s grown in a short amount of time,” you state as you place down the mugs on coasters and make sure that the stack of photos are far away from the coffee to avoid damage.

Miguel turns to look at his bookcase, eyebrow still raised, to take a look. He realizes it has. There’s a lot of records from artists Miguel enjoys listening to, records he bought right before the fire at your apartment. Miguel also realizes there’s a lot of Billie Holiday and other artists you specifically enjoy, records he often finds himself listening to - because of you.

“I guess it has, hasn’t it?” he asks looking back at you with a small grin.

“It has! I was thinking that at this rate your collection is going to be larger than mine,” you respond as you take a seat on the floor.

Miguel chuckles as he walks to the coffee table, too. He takes a seat next to you, leaving plenty of space so you can both stretch if needed before he picks up a few photos.

“Are we going to have a little competition?” he asks as he inspects a photo.

“A little competition?” you ask glancing at him, amused. “No, I just think it’s nice seeing you use the record player and your collection growing. It’s nice to share my love for records with someone again.”

Miguel turns to look at you when you say that.

“It’s nice to share my love for records with someone again.”

You smile at him before picking up a picture frame and inspecting the little sliding parts at the back, making sure they work fine.

Miguel continues to watch you, a soft and affectionate look on his face as your words stay with him. He’s that someone to you now - that someone you can talk to about records or share them with. It’s a thing you share now.

“I’m flattered,” Miguel says at last, smiling softly. “And by the way, you’re always welcomed to borrow any of the records. I can also buy them for you, if you’d like your own copy. Don’t hesitate to let me know,” he adds, meaning it.

“Thank you, likewise,” you reply softly with a smile. You place the frame down. “So, what other photos do you want to add?”

“I was thinking this one,” Miguel says, showing you a photo. “It’s Gabriel. His whole class did a play in the first grade to conclude the school year. He played a prince. I can’t even remember what it was about but he was a good one.”

You smile warmly as you look at the photo of Gabriel wearing a crown. “He looks so adorable,” you say, your eyes softening at the sight, something Miguel notices. “He was so little and look,” you say, leaning closer to the photo. “He had little curls, like you do.”

Miguel’s eyebrows raise at the fact that you’ve noticed and recall such detail about him but then again, he remembers you’ve washed his hair before. He smiles. “Yeah, his faded as he started to grow older.”

“That explains why I’ve never noticed them before in other photos of him where he’s older.”

“I think he was about seven when he lost them. Let’s see…” Miguel says looking through other photos. “This was some field trip and he still has them. Looks like he was in the third grade here. I’m pretty sure he didn’t have them by the end of elementary. I remember he was sad about it. My mom was, too,” Miguel adds, remembering that. “I think I want to add this one for sure.”

He places the photo he first showed you on the table to the side before he grabs more photos. Together, he shows you more photos, mostly of him and Gabriel. You don’t fail to notice that there are none of Miguel’s stepfather, George O’Hara. Rightfully so, you think to yourself. His mom, on the other hand, shows up here and there.

“Maybe this one.” Miguel holds up a photo. It’s of Gabriel and himself, holding up matching superhero action figures with a Christmas tree behind them. “This was a good Christmas,” he says softly. “Gabriel was so excited about those action figures. He said we were twins because we had the same one,” he continues, chuckling. “And he made sure to tell that to anyone who was willing to listen.” Miguel grows silent as he stares at the photo some more. He clears his throat. “I still have them. We both kept them even when we grew older. They’re downstairs with his things,” Miguel shares.

You stare at Miguel fondly, noting the way his voice has grown quieter. “He was so sweet,” you comment, glancing at the photo as well. “I bet he’s happy that you still have them.”

Miguel glances at you, smiling, even though his eyes show signs of sadness. “Maybe. Or maybe not, considering they’re packed away.”

“You can always unpack them. Maybe you can put them in his room, or even here in the bookcase as decoration,” you suggest gently.

“I might do that,” Miguel says, nodding. He looks back at the photo. “Definitely adding this one.”

“It’ll look lovely on your wall,” you reply. “I can go ahead and put it in a picture frame if you want. That one and the other one.”

“Yes, please,” he replies as he hands you only one of the photos. He keeps the other one and inserts it into a picture frame himself, so you’re not doing all the work. “There.” Miguel looks at the photo again, this time in its picture frame. He nods, satisfied.

He places it next to him on the floor and reaches for more photos. He doesn’t need much time to decide on the ones he’s going through now. They’re of you and him. He places each one down, remembering each moment as you get other picture frames ready. He can’t believe he has shared so many moments like these with you. It feels unreal, that he’s opened up so much to you, but he’s thankful for it - and for you.

He comes across another photo, this one is also from New Year’s but it’s a photo of the entire spider gang, you, and him - taken by Lyla, of course. He places it in the pile because why not.

Next, he comes across the few last photos he has of Gaby. He places all of them in the pile. Some of them are already on the wall in display and the remainder are on this stack now. He silently wishes more could’ve been saved but this is all he has, unfortunately.

He sighs softly. He’s thankful he has these many, at least.

“I think for now these will be it,” he says as he lifts the short stack of photos. “Once I hang them up, I’ll see if I want to add more.”

You nod in agreement and together, you work on the picture frames until all of Miguel’s selected photos have one and he can begin to hang them. He asks for your opinion on the arrangement, so you make suggestions, which he agrees with. At last, Miguel places the last photograph and steps back to take a look at the completed project.

You stand side by side about eight feet away from the wall and simply take it all in.

You personally find it beautiful and touching to see all of Miguel’s deceased loved ones present from Gaby to Gabriel, and even his mother and wife. Then, there’s photos of you and him, and even one from New Year’s Eve with the entire spider gang that you don’t have. You remind yourself that you’ll ask him about it later, so you can add it to your own wall when your building is done with construction. As your eyes shift from photo to photo, you internally hope that Miguel is happy with it - that he feels good about this addition to his penthouse.

You glance up at him, subtly, trying to gauge his reaction. It’s been almost two minutes of silence and he hasn’t said anything yet. You hope he’s not regretting it nor feeling overwhelmed with seeing all these memories all at once. Worried, you scan his face but thankfully, there’s no negative emotion etched on Miguel’s face.

Instead, you find a soft and warm smile as Miguel’s red eyes move from photo to photo. He nods to himself in approval.

“I really like this,” he whispers, his gaze still on the wall. “I like having their photos out.”

Smiling, you nod, returning your eyes to the photos. “It looks beautiful,” you whisper back. “It’s great to see them.”

Miguel hums quietly, unable to tear his eyes away. “It is. And I also like - seeing our photos, too. And the one with the spider gang.”

“I didn’t know that one was even taken.”

“You know Lyla,” Miguel says. “I have yet to find all the photos she has taken in the past. She keeps hiding them.”

You laugh quietly. “Her secret folder has probably tripled since the day she told us about it.”

“If not more.”

“True,” you say softly. “I like seeing our photos, too, by the way. It makes me truly realize…” you trail off.

Miguel finally shifts his gaze to you, curious. “It makes you realize…?”

“It makes me realize how much time has passed since I joined the Spider Society. Almost two years now. On top of that, I realize how much time and moments we - we’ve shared,” you say quietly, as if afraid that this truth will upset Miguel.

“We’ve shared a lot,” he says, agreeing. “It’s being almost two years and yet, it doesn’t feel like that much time has passed but it has.” Miguel glances at the wall, thinking. “The last two years have flown by for me, to be honest,” he admits. “Before that, time felt like it was dragging by.”

You process his words, a thought coming to your mind but you tell yourself that surely that’s not what Miguel means.

“They haven’t been easy years,” Miguel admits. There’s no way he can deny that. Losing Gaby shattered him. “But they’ve flown by. I blinked and now we’re here, and it doesn’t feel like two years have almost gone by. It feels like - only a few months. What I’m trying to say is that…” Miguel shakes his head. Is he even making sense? Or, is he just so excited about the finished wall that he’s just rambling and not making his point clear? “I don’t feel like the last two years have dragged in the sense that it feels torturous. They’ve flown by and I actually find myself wondering where has time gone? It’s like, I don’t have enough time but in a good way, if that makes sense. Shock,” Miguel says in disbelief. He’s probably making no sense to you right now. “You’ve made these years better. More than better,” he tries again. “I’ve enjoyed these years because of you despite everything I was, and still am, navigating - and because of that, it feels like it hasn’t been two years already. I hope that after all my rambling I made sense.” Miguel looks at you with a sheepish look on his face.

You smile at him and nod, touched by Miguel’s admission. It may not feel like two years have gone by already but they have, and it’s evident by Miguel’s words themselves. The man you met almost two years ago wouldn’t have share those words with you, either because he didn’t want to show his feelings or because he wasn’t able to speak them out loud. Now, here he is, saying them.

Time has definitely gone by.

Yet, you agree with Miguel. It doesn’t feel like it has, not with him and your other friends around.

“You did, I understand what you’re saying. I feel the same way,” you respond, thinking. “There were many days, before the Spider Society, that felt like that, as if time was dragging on. My days blended into each other, but ever since I joined and I became friends with you and everyone else, I’ve had no days like that. Not anymore. The last few years have been amazing, truly. Thanks to you,” you continue.

You settle into a peaceful silence, staring at each other for a few seconds with smiles on your faces before turning to the wall again. Unknowingly, you both think about earlier upstairs.

You have each other now.

Always.

Half an hour later, you’re both sitting on the couches. It’s still early in the evening when you remember that you’re going grocery shopping tomorrow, so together, you make a grocery list because it’s your turn to buy groceries.

Miguel watches you as you jot down things, wishing you didn’t insist on this, but it was a condition you established from the start when he offered you to stay with him while your apartment building is under construction. He has to respect it despite his discontent. He has no choice but to do so, even though he’d be more than happy to pay for groceries every week for the two of you.

“Okay, what about snacks?” you ask softly, looking up at him from your list.

Miguel tilts his head to the side, thinking. “Those cookies you always like, those are amazing.”

“I’ll get those then,” you say with a smile as you add them to the list.

You stop working on your list when you receive a notification from your gizmo. You glance at it, noticing it’s from Peter B. asking if you can babysit Mayday for a few hours tomorrow since something came up for him and MJ. You quickly reply and tell him you can.

“Seems like I’ll have a little companion for my grocery trip.”

“Who?” Miguel asks.

“Mayday,” you say as you add something else to the list that you just thought about.

Miguel smiles softly, watching you. He can already see you walking the streets of your city with Mayday on your chest in her little carrier. He shakes the thought away when you glance at him again.

“Seems like I have everything but if you think of something else, even if I’m already there, just send me a quick message.”

“I will,” Miguel replies with a small smile. _☆_

The next day you walk the streets of your city with Mayday just like Miguel imagined it. She’s grown a lot over the last few months, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You have two reusable bags on your arm in which you’re carrying the groceries and at this point, you only have two more stops before you head back to Nueva York.

“Snack!” Mayday says, pointing to some food stand eagerly.

A laugh escapes from your lips as Mayday proves to have Peter B’s appetite each day. You decide to find a place to stop and sit down to give her a snack since Peter and MJ packed some safe snacks for her. Once settled, Mayday happily eats and looks around, pointing at things that catch her attention, so you reply back and tell her about those things she points to. Her vocabulary is expanding more and more each day, and these days she can say things that are understandable, even if it’s just single words.

You can’t help but enjoy this moment with her. It really is sweet when you have the opportunity to look after her, something that has become more frequent as Mayday is also beginning to show superpowers. Her strength is already like that of a ten-year old, and you can only imagine it will increase as she grows older. On top of her strength, she’s also started to experience spidey senses like the rest of you. And so, because she’s already displaying these powers, some of you from the spider gang have offered to help, as mentors, including Miguel.

You can’t deny that knowing this about Mayday has made you wonder. If you and Peter had the opportunity and time to have children, would they have powers, too? The thought always makes you smile, especially when you imagine Peter trying to catch a child swinging around. That would’ve been a sight to behold for sure.

You sigh softly and gently hug Mayday closer as you offer her another piece of her snack. In a multiverse of universes in which Peter Parker doesn’t always get a family and happy ending, you’re more than happy that Peter B. has had this beautiful opportunity. He has MJ and Mayday after everything he’s gone through. And of course, he has the spider gang, too.

“All done?” you ask Mayday with a warm smile, noticing she’s done. You wipe her mouth and her hands, making sure to keep her clean before the two of you carry on to the other shops. It doesn’t take long for you to finish since you have the list you put together last night with Miguel.

At last, Mayday and you are on your way with everything. Your eyes search for a good place to sneak through so you can get on a rooftop and travel back to Nueva York to avoid raising any suspicions or questions. As you look around, you feel Mayday begin to wiggle around in your chest. She starts pointing at something, a flower stand that’s just up ahead.

“Flowers. Do you want to look at the flowers?” you ask her but you know the answer to that already just by her enthusiasm, so you walk up to the stand. You inspect some of the flowers like many other customers, with nothing in mind since you had no plans to buy flowers today. “Should we get some flowers for Miguel’s place? It would brighten up the kitchen, I think,” you tell Mayday. “What do you think? Should we get these?” You pick up a bouquet and show it to Mayday but she doesn’t seem too excited about them. “Alright, so not those… These?” you ask, raising a bouquet with an assortment of colors with red, a pastel yellow, and pink.

This one seems to have Mayday’s approval because she reaches for it.

“I see we have a winner, then,” you say, inspecting the flowers beyond their colors to make sure they’re in good condition. Satisfied, you continue to look at the other flowers. You notice there’s a line of people anyway, so you might as well enjoy the other flowers with Mayday in the meantime, so she doesn’t get bored waiting in line.

“Romance, friendship, and admiration,” someone says about a minute later as you glance at the bouquet you’re holding.

Startled, you look up only to find the owner of the flower stand staring at Mayday and you.

“That’s what the colors usually mean,” she says, explaining. “Red is for romance. Yellow for friendship. And pink for admiration. It can also be playfulness and innocence. It’s a bouquet I usually arrange with lovers in mind.”

“Oh,” you reply softly, glancing at the bouquet again. You chuckle softly as you think about the fact that this is for Miguel’s home. “It’s a lovely arrangement.”

“I’m sure your partner will love it,” she says. All you can do is nod at the statement instead of correcting her about the fact that you don’t have a partner.

“Yes!” Mayday exclaims with a little clap that makes the flower stand owner grin.

“Seems like the little one agrees.”

You smile and nod. “Yes, she seems to agree. We’ll take these, please,” you reply, handing her the bouquet so she can ring you up. The flower stand owner hands it back, wrapped in another protective paper. You pay and get your change back from the lady, who thanks you for your business.

“I hope you and your partner enjoy the bouquet, miss,” she says before another customer approaches her.

You sigh, taking a few steps away from that area to show Mayday more flowers. It seems she’s really enjoying them as her attention is still on them. You decide to indulge her, it’s a lovely day after all and you’re genuinely enjoying shopping around and showing her the flowers now that it’s warmer out. “Look at these, Mayday,” you say, pointing at some flowers but those fail to get her attention, so you try showing her others.

“Not your cup of tea?” you ask as she still seems uninterested. You wonder if she’s just bored of looking at flowers now, or maybe she’s just tired from the trip just as she starts patting your body. “I guess we ought to go home,” you say realizing Mayday seems impatient now.

“Go,” she says, still patting your body.

“Alright, alright. We’re going home,” you reply.

“Go, go,” Mayday repeats pointing to the street.

“We’re going. Don’t worry,” you reply, reassuring her while readjusting her carrier to make sure she’s secured. It’s then that you notice, she’s giving signals of her spidey senses going off. A second later, yours do, too. You’re about to look around to see what’s going on but you have no time.

“Y/N?”

You freeze.

It’s been several years since you’ve heard someone use your first name in your universe. For years, all the social interactions you’ve had have been with people who address you formally by your last name, such as your landlord or the people at the bank when you have to take care of financial matters. Now, here’s this voice, saying your name full of recognition. It’s one your brain immediately identifies, and how could it not? You’ve known this person since elementary, all the way until Peter’s funeral. With a gulp, you turn and face him.

“Y/N,” he says again, this time with more confidence as he realizes it’s truly you.

You manage a nod. “Harry,” you reply, saying a name your mouth hasn’t uttered in years.

—☆

Mayday sits on your lap, probably the most still you’ve ever seen her. In fact, she remained quiet during the entire walk as Harry Osborn and you made your way to this small coffee shop he apparently visits a lot. You don’t even remember saying yes but you did. After addressing each other and stating awkward “what a surprise’s,” Harry invited you for a cup of coffee. And, you said yes because your brain froze due to the shock of seeing him standing in front of you.

He offered Mayday and you a ride, pointing to his parked car on the side of the street, his valet waiting with the door open, but you politely declined. That didn’t seem to bother Harry a bit and even after telling him that he could ride his car and meet you there, he refused and opted to walk with you.

You glance out of one of the coffee shop’s window now, sitting next to it. You saw the table open when you first came in and chose it, thinking that the window will provide some relief from the awkwardness that might come from this conversation. You also figure it will sooth some of your nerves. You didn’t expect to feel nervous about seeing and talking to Harry again, but here you are, your hands slightly trembling. Your eyes spot Harry’s car across the street, his valet waiting inside it for him.

You look away and stare at the table, wondering how it’s possible that years later you stumble into him. It’s the first time you’ve seen and spoken to him since Peter’s funeral. It feels surreal.

Your thoughts are interrupted as a coffee cup comes into view before it’s placed in front of you. Harry takes a seat across from you, his own cup in his hand. You meet his gaze and manage to offer a small smile, one you hope doesn’t show how shocked and off you feel about this encounter.

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” you reply softly, not sure where to start, not sure what to say.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry replies, offering you a small smile as well.

You can tell that he’s equally unsure of where to start. His eyes continue to flicker towards Mayday, who remains on your lap peacefully, no doubt wondering who she is to you, but you don’t feel like offering any answers or explanations right now, especially with Mayday being from another universe. The less Harry knows, the better.

“So…” Harry starts, still holding on to his cup, as if finding assurance from it. He smiles nervously before he shakily sighs and looks down at the table for a few seconds. trying to gather his thoughts. He raises his head again. “You look beautiful, as always. You look well, Y/N,” he says gently.

“Thank you,” you respond. “I’m doing well*,* too.” You nod, knowing this statement is true. You’ve been good for a while - you’ve been happy since you joined the Spider Society almost two years ago, and even more so since you’ve made close friends. And not only that, you now have a best friend. A smile forms on your lips at the thought of it.

Miguel, your best friend.

“I haven’t seen that smile in so long,” Harry says, taking notice of your smile immediately. It’s a much different smile from the one you offered him just now. It’s real and happy, not awkward at all. “It’s the smile you always had for Peter.” Harry realizes this and he can only wonder what or who you’re thinking about, what or who is the reason for that smile now.

His comment about your smile and it being the one you always had for Peter while thinking about Miguel makes you freeze just for a few seconds but you simply nod. You’ll think about his observation later when you’re home. You blink at that, still smiling gently, as you realize you’ve unconsciously called Nueva York “home,” even though you are home, at least in your home universe. You’ll think about that later, too, you tell yourself.

Harry smiles, much warmly this time, and continues, unaware of your scattered thoughts. “I’m more than happy to hear that, truly. I’m happy you’re doing well,” Harry continues. “You deserve to be doing well after…” he trails off, a look of understanding crossing his features, not wanting to say it out loud but you know what he means - that you’re doing well after Peter’s death.

You nod again, focusing on the conversation and on Harry. You don’t want to come across as disrespectful.

“Thank you. I hope you’ve been doing well, too, Harry,” you say, genuinely. “I mean that.”

He sighs softly, his eyes on you. “Thank you…. I - I know this must be - strange and I don’t even know where to start,” he whispers suddenly, but loud enough for you to hear. “After all this time… I have so much to say to you, and yet I cannot find the words to convey everything I’ve felt and continue to feel.” Harry pauses and exhales heavily this time, continuing to meet your gaze.

Below, on your lap, you feel Mayday’s hand grip your fingers. You hold her closer, your arms tightening around her just slightly for comfort.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry says, his tone pained. “I’m so sorry for just - disappearing. For leaving you... When you needed me the most. I failed you and Pete,” he whispers, his gaze heavy with sadness. “I failed the two of you.”

“Harry,” you start, sensing his genuine regret and something else. Sorrow, pain. You sigh and look away. This is certainly not what you were expecting to be doing today - running into an old friend, into Harry, and hearing his apologies for disappearing.

“No, please. Please just let me,” Harry says. “I need to get this off my chest. I know it’s not fair to just dump all of this on you right now, but I haven’t seen you in so long, and now that you’re here, I just - want to say it. How sorry I am. You deserved so much better from me, but I failed you and Peter. I was never worthy of being called your friend, of Peter calling me his brother.”

You return your gaze to him. For years, you’ve been hiding the hurt from his sudden disappearance, but you also know that you were going to do the same to him. You were going to cut ties with Harry eventually, just like you did with other friends and acquaintances. It was your plan all along after Peter’s death. Your mind was made up only a few hours after you found Peter and held him in your arms before he passed away.

In your grief, loss, and pain, you found a guilt that you carried for a long time. You felt that you had failed Peter, in saving him, and wondered. If you couldn’t save one of the most important people in your life, how would you protect anyone else, including your friends - including Harry? They were better off without you, at least you believed that then.

It was that mentality that led you to cutting ties with everyone. Your plan included Harry, who you always saw as a bit of a brother as well. You anticipated that it would be harder to disappear from his life. You believed he was going to try and stay in touch, no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from him. You had known and being friends with each other since elementary and that friendship only grew as the years went by, especially when Peter transferred schools and he became friends with Harry as well. The friendship became a deeper one.

But then, Harry simply disappeared after Peter’s funeral. He gave you a hug at the end of it, holding you tight, before he excused himself, marking it the last time you saw him or heard from him. On one hand, he made your goal easy, and yet, it still hurt.

You gulp the emotions away. “All of that is in the past,” you reply gently, meeting Harry’s gaze. Your hurt from his disappearance has lessened over the years and at times, you told yourself that he must have had his own reasons for doing so, just like you had yours. “You had your reasons, I’m sure of it.”

Harry nods and looks away, as if suddenly being unable to meet your eyes.

“I - Thank you for being understanding,” he says, clearing his throat. After a few seconds, he turns his gaze back to you. “… I’m so sorry. I truly am. For disappearing… For leaving you alone. I hate to think of all this time,” he says, eyebrows knitted in regret. “I learned from the others after some time that you slowly started to distance yourself.”

You look away from his eyes now, brushing aside a strand of Mayday’s hair from her face. “I had my reasons,” you reply, giving him the same excuse for his own distance. He hasn’t provided any reason or excuse, and you haven’t probe for more, so you hope he’ll do the same. You glance back at him, his eyes meeting yours.

He nods. Harry Osborn is smart, always has been. The words you’ve used and the way you’ve both avoided discussing the reasons for distancing, doesn’t elude him. There will be no discussion of such things, at least not today. He clears his throat and nods again, understanding.

“I haven’t talked to them in many years,” he says. “It’s crazy to think some of them have children now.”

“Yeah, I learned of one of them. It’s definitely… crazy to think about. How much time has passed that they have kids now.”

“I went to look for you,” Harry suddenly reveals.

“You did? When?”

“I found out your apartment building caught on fire. I immediately recognized it, of course. How could I not?” he says with a small smile. “It’s where we spent so many evenings with everyone. So many celebrations. Birthday parties for friends, your baking and Peter’s cooking. You guys always made the apartment feel like a second home.”

You smile at that. “Yeah, I remember that - those days,” you reply softly, thinking. It’s been a while since you thought of those days, except for Peter’s birthdays. It’s the only time you think about those happy evenings when the apartment was filled with excitement and happy conversation.

Harry nods. “As soon as I saw it, I was worried about you. I didn’t know if you had moved somewhere else, or if you… had stayed there. I asked around and found out that you still live there. I wanted to make sure you were okay after the fire. Wanted to know if you needed help, or somewhere to stay, but I haven’t had luck in locating you until today by pure chance. I just happened to look out the car’s window and your figure seemed familiar, so I asked my valet to pull over and well, it turns out it was you after all.” Harry pauses. “Where - if you don’t mind me asking - where are you staying right now? If you need a place, you’re more than welcome to stay with me,” he offers, concern laced in his words.

“Thank you, that's kind of you but please don't worry. I’m already staying somewhere.”

“Are you safe? Do you have everything you need?” Harry asks, for the first time leaning closer, trying to gauge if you’re telling the truth.

“Yes, I'm safe,” you reply, reassuring him. You smile gently at him. After all these years, you can hear genuine concern in Harry's voice. “I’m staying somewhere safe.”

“It isn’t a hotel, is it?” he asks. “Or, are you staying with someone?”

“Mig!” Mayday exclaims, thankfully being unable to say Miguel’s full name correctly.

Harry turns to Mayday.

“Mig?” he repeats and Mayday nods, clapping her hands, excitedly. He turns back to you, an eyebrow raised but he doesn’t ask more questions. “As long as you’re staying somewhere safe, that’s all that matters.”

“I am.”

Harry nods. No further details are provided from you. He doesn’t even know who this child is. He turns back to Mayday, his gaze filled with curiosity.

“She’s a friend’s daughter,” you simply state, giving no names. “I’m looking after her today. My friend and their spouse had something to do.”

“I see,” Harry replies, still staring at Mayday. “She seems sweet. And very fond of you,” he comments, taking notice of the way she holds your fingers. The child seems more than content with you, as if she has known you her whole short life, which only makes him wonder more. He has a lot of questions about your life. Where have you been? Who are your friends now? So many questions, but Harry knows he can’t ask them. He has no right to, not after disappearing from your life so abruptly when you needed him the most. He’s glad to see that you seem happier these days, at least. Your smile from earlier is a sign of it. He wonders about it again, unable to stop himself from associating the “Mig” with your happiness.

“She seems so,” you reply, holding Mayday. Not knowing what else to say, you lift your coffee for the first time and take a sip to fill the silence. You glance subtly out the window again, your eyes spotting Harry’s parked car once more. Looking back at Harry, you place the cup down. “So… How have you been?”

The question throws Harry off guard for a second. The awkward silence that fell upon you made it feel like this conversation was over but you’ve asked him something, and maybe that means this random encounter isn’t over just yet.

“Okay,” he replies. “I’m working with my father now at Osborn Industries.”

“Right. Osborn Industries. How is your dad? I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

“He’s - older,” Harry replies with a sheepish smile. “He talks about retirement but then again, he’s been talking about it for years. I don’t think he’ll ever retire, to be honest. It seems impossible to him to not work. He’s worked his whole life. I think he’ll grow bored from not working, but who knows.”

You nod. “I can imagine.” You chuckle a bit. “Tell him I say hi and that I wish him well, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course. He’ll be happy to hear from you,” Harry says. “He’s asked about you over the years.”

With a smile, you nod and pick up your mug again. You wonder what Harry told his father, if he ever shared with Norman Osborn that he cut contact with you, or if he told him something else to excuse the sudden lack of contact between you. “Well… You can tell him I’m alright, still living here in the city.”

“I will,” he replies, not knowing what else to say for a few seconds before he thinks of something. “I know this is unexpected, but - would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow?”

You blink in surprise. Harry’s lunch invitation is definitely unexpected. You meet his gaze, pondering about what his invitation and your acceptance might mean for the future.

“Just lunch,” he says gently. “That’s all. I know it’s probably too much too soon after so many years but I just… I’d like to see you again, even if just one more time. I’ll understand if you want nothing more with me afterwards. I’ll respect it but just… Please. For old time’s sake,” Harry continues.

Mayday glances up at you, her blue eyes wide, as if waiting for your response. It’s always been intriguing to you how she seems to understand the mood of the situation - of the environment - she’s in despite her age. You sigh silently.

For old time’s sake, Harry says. A part of you feels like you should accept. Not just for old time’s sake but also for Peter, who you think would be happy about this, even if it’s just this lunch and concludes at that. Maybe this is a form of closure for both Harry and you, and in a way, for Peter, too. You nod.

“Tomorrow.”

Harry beams at you. “Tomorrow. I can have my valet pick you up, if you’d like. Or, I can simply give you the address, whichever you prefer.”

“The address is fine, thank you,” you reply, politely declining the ride once more.

Harry nods, understanding, before he gives you the address. You both confirm the time, making it official.

You’re having lunch with Harry Osborn tomorrow after years of not seeing him. __☆

“I thought about Peter and how this might be a closure for everyone. For Peter, Harry, and me,” you say softly, leaning on one of Miguel’s lab counters almost an hour later after you parted ways with Harry. Your meeting with him left you feeling a lot of emotions and the time it took you to put away all the groceries at the penthouse served as a moment to think about it a bit before you returned to HQ to tell Miguel what happened. “So, I said yes.”

Mayday sits on the floor over a blanket you placed for her. Some of her toys are scattered around as she plays with them by herself. You’ve been keeping an eye on her the whole time while telling Miguel about your encounter with Harry, along with providing some background information, such as the last time you saw him.

Miguel has been listening to you and nodding his head in silence so far. He realizes now that the man he saw last night in your photos is Harry Osborn.

“You said yes,” he repeats, nodding.

“I did…” you reply, trailing off.

Miguel leans back on the same counter, his back to it. He crosses his arms across his chest, thinking. “And how do you feel about it now?”

You shrug slightly. “I don’t even know, to be honest. I think I’m still processing the fact that I even ran into him.”

“That’s understandable. It’s been many years,” Miguel comments, trying to ignore what you’ve told him about the man - about how Harry Osborn disappeared from your life right after Peter’s funeral, a time when you could’ve really used someone to lean on. Miguel can’t help but feel a grudge towards him, even though he’s never met the man.

“It has.” You fidget with your gizmo, looking at it.

Miguel can tell you seem off by this entire encounter, you seem nervous. Anxious even. He’s about to say something when he sees you turn away. In the blink of an eye, Mayday is in your arms. He quickly realizes you sensed Mayday swinging towards you and it’s why you turned away.

You smile as you hold Mayday in your arms and sigh. “She made the encounter better,” you tell Miguel, looking at him. “By the way, she called you ‘Mig’ at the coffee shop.”

“Mig?” Miguel repeats, smiling softly, placing his thoughts about Osborn aside, for now. He glances down at Mayday, noticing she brought her action figures of you and him along with her. He’s instantly reminded of the time she made both action figures kiss that one day you babysat her. He remembers hiding his face by lifting Mayday up to keep you from seeing the heat in his cheeks and how embarrassed you seemed about it afterwards. The memory makes his face feel warm now.

“Miggle!” Mayday says raising Miguel’s action figure so he can see it.

You cover your mouth, stifling a chuckle at Mayday’s new nickname. He glances between you and Mayday, a grumpy look on his face, but it’s a playful one. “Alright, I was okay with ‘Mig’ but this - that’s a no.”

You laugh, which causes Mayday to giggle. “Miggle!”

“Great,” Miguel mumbles, covering his face with one hand for a few seconds. He drops it and sighs, looking at Mayday and you, your laughter makes him chuckle, too. He shakes his head in disbelief and lets it go, it’s just a silly nickname. One day Mayday will grow out of it, he’s sure.

“Hey guys, I’m back,” someone says.

The three of you turn at the voice.

“Peter,” you say, greeting him with a smile.

Miguel gives him a nod of acknowledgment, crossing his arms over his chest again as he stands next to you, Mayday still in your arms.

Peter B. stops a few feet away, looking at the three of you.

“Hm,” Peter B. hums softly, a gleam in his eyes. He smiles to himself, as if fondly thinking of something but he reveals nothing. “Just came to pick up Mayday. MJ and I got out of our meeting just in time for her nap. Thank you for looking after her for us,” he says to you with an appreciative smile.

“Of course. It was no problem. I think she enjoyed her time with me. We looked at the flowers, didn’t we?” you ask Mayday, holding her higher. “And she had her snacks and got to see around my city again. It was a fun grocery trip,” you say, leaving out your meeting with Harry for now. You’ll tell him and the rest of the spider gang later when your mind isn’t so scattered nor conflicted about it. “It was a busy trip, so I think she’s definitely ready for her nap.” You walk over to him and hand Mayday over.

“Thanks,” Peter says again with a smile. “I’ll see you guys in a bit. This little one definitely needs a nap.” Peter looks at his daughter, noticing signs of sleepiness even as she continues to hold her action figures, lazily showing them to him.

“Let me collect her toys,” you say, gathering her items with Miguel’s help. The two of you place everything in Mayday’s backpack before you hand it back to Peter, helping him put it on. “There.”

“Thanks, guys. I’ll see you around. Say bye, Mayday,” Peter B. says with a grin.

“Bye-bye,” Mayday says waving one hand, the one holding Miguel’s action figure.

“Bye,” you say warmly, waving as well.

“Bye-bye, Mayday,” Miguel says standing next to you.

You glance at him, noticing that he said “bye-bye” as well, just like Mayday. You turn away and smile, finding that endearing as Peter and Mayday head out of the lab.

Miguel watches as they vanish from sight, his thoughts going back to your encounter with Harry once again, but he keeps that to himself for now. He knows that this sudden contact with him and the lunch tomorrow is weighting on you right now, and the last thing he wants to do is add to your stress by bringing it up so soon.

What Miguel wishes to do is make you forget about it, even if just for an hour. Miguel wishes to do what you always do for him, lift his spirits when he’s feeling down or tense. He thinks for a few seconds, planning and remembering something

“Mira [look], I wanted to show you something,” he starts, hoping this will take your mind off it for a little bit. He was planning to show you this later today but now seems like the best time to do so. He gestures for you to follow him to another lab bench. “I’ve been working on something with Lyla, doing trials and such.”

“What is it?” you ask as you stand next to him, looking at the surface. There’s a few lookalikes to the gizmos, a closed box, and tools all scattered about.

“Ever since last spring when I got injured and my gizmo was broken by that variant of the Green Goblin, I’ve been thinking about working on a new one. A more durable one,” Miguel says as he opens the box and retrieves something. He lifts it up and shows it to you, another gizmo. “I started doing some research on better materials - stronger ones, which this one is made out of. Up to that point there were no incidents like that, in which the gizmo was directly targeted. It was built to be durable in fights, to take hits and scratches but not that kind of impact. So for months, I’ve been testing other materials but they’ve all failed until I came across a new one. I started building this gizmo a few weeks ago once I found the new materials needed. This seems to be the best one in regards to that,” he says, offering it so you can take a closer look at it.

You take it carefully and inspect it. The trial gizmo looks similar to the current one with some differences. For instance, you can immediately tell this one is sturdier but also much more sleeker than the current one.

“It has a few more features, including those like that of a smartwatch. It can track vitals and the sort,” Miguel says, watching as you look at the gizmo. “I’m not concerned for that but it’s something other members have talked about in the past, so I added it. It might be helpful, who knows.” Miguel adds, shrugging.

“It feels sturdier,” you tell him. “I’m sure the others will like it, especially with those new features,” you add with a grin. “So, I can track my heart rate?”

Noticing your grin, Miguel returns it. It seems that his little plan has worked so far. “Why don’t you try it on?”

“It’s ready for that?”

“Yes. Now I just need to test it out - to make sure that everything is working as it should. I’ve made two, so far, so…” Miguel trails off. “You can test this one for me. I’ll test the other one.”

You nod, not questioning the fact that Miguel specifically made two of these gizmos. You slide the new gizmo on your other wrist and start it up. The familiar marigold colored screen appears immediately.

“I’m glad you kept the same color. It’s easy on the eyes.”

“It is, isn’t it? It helps a lot, especially with me staring at the screens for so long. Oh, look, there’s the vitals icon,” Miguel says pointing with his finger.

You click on the icon and the gizmo immediately shows a screen, asking if you want to measure your heart rate among other things. You approve the heart rate feature and it begins instantly, not taking long to show the results.

“Ninety-three beats per minute, and it’s within the general range,” Miguel reads. “That seems normal. We’ll keep track of that and make sure it doesn’t fluctuate to crazy numbers. If it does, it means I’ll need to work on it more.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for that then and report it to you,” you reply. “Unless it’s already synced to the network?”

Miguel nods his head. “These are but just because I want to make sure they’re working correctly. The final ones, those distributed, won’t though. I don’t want to breach anyone’s health privacy.”

“That sounds reasonable,” you reply. “I personally don’t mind since it’s you but it’s a nice thought for the others.” You give Miguel a smile. “You think about everything. This is amazing as always, Miguel. I’m excited to try out the other features.”

The compliment makes Miguel smile shyly at you. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re excited about it. I’ve been working on it little by little and I was excited to let you see and try it out. I guess it’s also time for an upgrade. It’s been a few years now since we’ve had these. Also, I do want to ask you to keep your original gizmo on you, especially for missions while we test these new ones. I don’t want you having any issues with glitching,” Miguel adds with concern.

“I’ll keep it on, don’t worry. Definitely don’t want any glitching,” you say, remembering the time you experienced it yourself. It was painful and if you can avoid feeling it again, you will.

“Good,” Miguel says with a sigh, satisfied with your answer.

You play with a few other features until at last you remember you have some work to do. “I’m going to go ahead and work on the report for next week, if you don’t mind,” you tell him, nodding to the desk where you always sit and work.

“Alright. I’ll be here,” Miguel says as he watches you walk away to your desk. Maybe working on the report will distract you for a while before he continues with his little plan.

It’s not much in his opinion but he hopes the gesture comforts you regardless. After a few seconds of watching you, Miguel finally walks back to his platform, where he tries not to think about your old friend.

It’s an hour later when Miguel looks at his gizmo to check the time. He steps off his platform and walks over to you. You’re so concentrated on the report that you only notice him until he’s next to the desk.

“I’m going to head out for a moment. About ten minutes or so. I’ll be right back,” he informs you.

“Oh, alright.”

“Wait for me here,” Miguel says softly. “I won’t take long. Promise.”

With a smile, you nod. “I’ll wait here. Promise.”

Satisfied with your answer, Miguel nods with a smile before he heads out with a determined look on his face. You silently wonder where he’s going off to but you don’t question it. You continue to work on the report and wait for him.

Just like Miguel promised, you hear his footsteps about fifteen minutes later. You glance up at him just as he appears in your line of sight. He approaches your desk again.

“Come on,” Miguel says softly, nodding his head to the side.

You raise an eyebrow.

“Let’s go,” Miguel tries again with a small smirk.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere. Just follow me,” he says, not sharing much.

You continue to stare at him, eyebrow raised. He just came back from wherever he mysteriously went off to and is now asking you to follow him. You feel the need to ask what’s going on but based on how little Miguel is sharing, you have a feeling he doesn’t want to tell you about it, but rather show you.

You save your progress on the device and nod before you stand up. “Alright.”

You follow Miguel, walking a few feet before he stops and looks up. He shoots his web up to the ceiling and climbs up. With furrowed eyebrows you do the same. You have no idea what’s going on, but you meet Miguel on the ceiling, noticing that he’s holding himself up with his talons.

“I always forget about this,” Miguel says. “No one else knows about it but there’s a secret window up here.”

“A secret window?”

Miguel nods and moves his hand around the ceiling, trying to locate something. “There. Watch out for the sunlight,” he warns before you hear a clicking noise. Miguel pushes it up and suddenly there’s light coming through the ceiling.

“There’s really a window on the ceiling,” you say, amazed.

Miguel chuckles before he pulls himself up. He continues to hold on to the building with his talons since you’re both stepping out onto one of the building’s peaks. If he doesn’t, he’d slip down. He crouches on the rooftop and offers you a hand, which you take without thinking. You cover your eyes, shielding them from the sunlight as you take in the fact that you’re both outside now, straight from Miguel’s lab.

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” you say.

Miguel chuckles again and shrugs. “I had it installed many years ago. It was supposed to be another way for me to leave the building during emergencies but I hardly use it. I forget it even exists.”

“But you remembered it today,” you say with a smile.

“It proved to be useful today, so I remembered it.”

“You can’t even see it,” you say looking at the ground. It blends right in.

“I had it designed that way. It’s why no one has found it, thankfully. Or, I’d have spider members literally dropping into the lab,” Miguel says with a grumpy face, just imagining how some members might abuse it for their personal fun.

You laugh. “I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

“I knew I could trust you,” Miguel replies, his grumpy face gone. The soft smirk is back. “But I didn’t bring you up here to show you the secret window.”

“No?”

“Nope. We’re going somewhere else, so follow me, please,” Miguel says.

“Alright, I’ll follow you,” you say and with that, the two of you swing off the building.

You follow Miguel and take in the sight of Nueva York. Living here for the last few weeks has made you grown used to it, a thought that brings back the realization from earlier when you were with Harry. You now see Nueva York as a second home and you don’t know when that even happened, but it has.

This universe is a home to you now.

Miguel makes a quick right and you follow right away, heading straight for a building’s rooftop. You land on it within seconds, your mind stirring with questions as Miguel looks behind his shoulder, as if making sure that you’re following along. A few more steps and you spot a box. You turn to Miguel, confused.

“Lunch,” Miguel says. “I thought I’d get some lunch for us from somewhere else other than the cafeteria.”

You smile, nodding. “I’m up for lunch.”

“Yeah?” Miguel says glancing at you as he takes a seat on the ground. He pats the ground next to the box with his hand, silently inviting you over.

“Yeah,” you reply as you take a seat, not wasting a second.

Miguel opens the box in which he’s kept the food secure, once again, thinking about everything. He takes out boxes with food and two to-go drinks. As he hands you a box, you instantly recognize the amazing scent. Tacos. You smile and remember the last time you had tacos with him on another rooftop here in Nueva York, which reminds you of what Gabriel used to say about them.

It’s then that you realize it. Miguel is trying to cheer up you after what happened this morning. You glance at the new gizmo, thinking. Did he show you the gizmos as a way to distract you?

“I got your favorite kind of tacos. And favorite salsa, too,” Miguel says as he hands you small carry-out containers with your favorite salsa. “And we have agua de horchata.”

You accept everything with a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate it… A lot.”

Holding his box with food, Miguel stops passing out items to look at you. You stare at each other, soft smiles grazing your faces.

“Always,” Miguel responds gently with no doubt in his mind that you’ve pieced together his plan because he recognizes that knowing look on your face right now. “I hope you enjoy your food.”

“I will. It smells amazing,” you comment as you finally open your box. The sight of food makes your stomach grumble. You look at Miguel, who is already looking at you with a soft smirk on his face but he says nothing and instead hands you napkins.

You eat side by side, enjoying the view of the city in a comfortable silence. Below, you can hear the midday traffic and see the people of Nueva York out and about. It’s a peaceful moment, one that truly makes you forget about your lunch meeting with Harry tomorrow. It’s just Miguel and you, nothing else.

You eventually finish eating and together, you collect everything, minus your cups, to avoid leaving a mess. You take a sip from yours, the sweet horchata hitting differently now. You sigh and place your cup down on the ground.

Miguel glances over at you. That sigh is not out of exhaustion. It’s one of frustration. He sighs, too. He tried to keep your mind off it for a little bit but of course, the gizmo and the lunch isn’t going to make you forget about it. In about twenty-four hours, you’ll be in your universe having lunch with Harry Osborn.

He clears his throat, wondering if he should bring it up. A part of him feels that he has no right to, especially when it’s about someone from your past - someone who meant a lot to you. Then again, it worries Miguel that you seem so tense about this situation, even anxious, and he truly hates seeing you like this. He sighs again, wishing he could do more.

“I know you’re not asking anyone for their thoughts or advice and I don’t want to intrude,” Miguel starts, getting your attention. “But… you don’t have to meet with him, you know?” He continues, his voice gentle and with an unwavering gaze. “At least not tomorrow. You can always arrange another time if you’re not ready.”

You nod, holding his gaze and feeling reassurance from both his words and gentle tone. It soothes your nerves.

“I feel nervous about it, not as much as I did earlier, though. It’s just that it’s been so long since I last saw him but… I think I need to. I feel like it will do me good,” you reply.

Miguel nods. “I understand that. If you’re certain about it, I’m glad you’re doing it. Whatever you decide, I’ll be here,” Miguel states, genuinely. “Supporting you. “

“Thank you,” you say softly. “I really appreciate it, Miguel, truly. I know you did this to cheer me up, and it means a lot. It helped me,” you tell him.

He smiles warmly at you. “It’s not much but I’m glad it helped you, even just a little,” he replies.

“It helped me a lot,” you correct him. “I do feel better, less nervous now.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Miguel says sincerely, still smiling.

“Your brother was right,” you state, still holding his gaze.

“Was he?”

“Yes, definitely. There’s nothing like tacos to lift someone’s spirits.”

Miguel chuckles before taking a sip from his drink. “He would be very proud to hear you agree with him, you know. He’d probably turn to me and say something like, ‘told you so,’ as if I ever disagreed with him.”

You chuckle at that, thinking about Gabriel. It would’ve been amazing to have met him.

“When did he come up with those wise words?” you ask, causing Miguel to snort softly.

“He was in his junior year of college during finals season, so I guess he really needed a pick-me up.”

“Understandable,” you reply. “Finals season is brutal.”

“I know,” he says, curious now that you mention college. “How did you manage those days? I’m curious.”

“You are?” you ask.

“Well, yes,” Miguel replies, thinking once again about how there’s so much about your life he doesn’t know of, and the truth is, Miguel would like to know more. “I’d like to know if you were the kind of student that rested properly those nights or if you pulled all-nighters. That says a lot about a person, you know.” Miguel gives you a playful smile.

You laugh softly. “I drank a lot of coffee.”

“I feel like I knew that already,” he replies, smiling. “What about my question though?”

“Well… I tried to rest as much as I could but there were times I did pull all-nighters. Other times I opted to sleep early and wake up at like 4am to begin studying.”

“So a little of both. I pulled all-nighters. A lot,” Miguel shares. “What was your favorite place to study?”

You smile and take a sip of your drink before you answer his question, one of many, as Miguel continues to ask about your college days and sharing about his own. In the end, the conversation itself boosts your mood, something that relieves Miguel. _☆_

The next day, you sit in the kitchen. It’s a rainy day in Nueva York and the weather forecast says thunderstorms are expected tonight.

A glass with agua de Jamaica is placed in front of you, along with half a sandwich Miguel prepared. You have about thirty minutes before you need to head to your universe to meet with Harry, but Miguel insisted in you having something to eat before you meet up with him.

“Uno nunca sabe [one never knows]. You might not like the food you order and then you’ll be hungry for the remaining time. You might get a headache, or something. At least you’ll have some food in your system if that’s the case,” Miguel said trying to convince you earlier today at the lab. He left out the part about him sensing your growing tension as time ticked by, and that he’s worried about you not eating properly in your nervous headspace. He even proposes splitting the sandwich between you in hopes that you’ll agree, which you do to his relief.

You can’t turn down the idea. Miguel does have a point, and you also think to yourself about your nervousness. You may eat very little even if the food is great just because of your nerves.

You take a bite of your half sandwich, looking up at Miguel as he takes a sip of his drink, his half of the sandwich almost gone. The fact that you’re sharing a sandwich feels very funny all of a sudden, but it’s also sweet that Miguel worried about you eating something, just in case.

It’s also sweet because it’s midday and Miguel is here, at the penthouse, instead of at HQ. The two of you left together and while you got changed into regular clothes upstairs, Miguel prepared the sandwich and glasses of agua de Jamaica.

You finish the sandwich and drink from your glass. You tell yourself it’s fine, that this is just - lunch. You’ll probably talk about Peter and maybe about what the two of you have been up to. That’s when you realize you’ll need to come up with some story about working somewhere, and about doing something other than what you’ve been doing all these years, or Harry might become suspicious.

“What’s wrong?” Miguel asks, noticing the worried look on your face. He straightens up, standing across from you, alarmed.

“I just realized I might have to come up with some lie about working somewhere. No one other than Peter ever knew about me being Spider-Woman, so if Harry asks, I guess I’ll have to lie.”

Miguel nods and thinks about that.

“You can tell the truth, just keep it vague. You do work at the Spider Society and do a lot,” he says.

You nod thinking about the tasks you help with at the Spider Society. “You’re right. Okay, no names. Just keep it vague.”

Miguel gives you a reassuring smile, feeling bad that you’re worried. This situation has caught you by surprise so much and he hates that because you seem nervous and tense, something he’s not used to seeing. He dislikes seeing you out of your usual self - calm and happy. He leans on the counter to be your height, hoping he can ease some of your nerves.

“It’s going to be okay,” Miguel says gently, his gaze soft as he meets your eyes. “It’s just lunch. It’ll probably last about an hour and a quarter of that time will be spent eating and drinking. It’ll be over before you even realize, trust me. And don’t worry about answering all his questions, if he asks any. You don’t have to answer them nor give him explanations for anything. It’s not an interview,” Miguel adds. “You’ll be okay, I know it.”

You smile at Miguel, his words sinking in, calming you. “Thank you, that - that really helps,” you say, sighing softly and feeling reassured.

“Always. Just remember to breathe,” Miguel adds. “Everything will be okay.”

You nod, repeating those words. Everything will be okay. It’s just lunch and it’ll be over before you realize. You don’t have to answer all of Harry’s questions nor give explanations. You’ll be okay. You stare back at Miguel, letting his words continue to calm you.

A random notification from your gizmo reminds you it’s almost time. You look at the screen to confirm. You now have about fifteen minutes until lunch with Harry.

“I should head out now,” you say, glancing back at Miguel, but you really don’t feel like leaving.

“Yeah, it’s almost time,” Miguel replies, not moving an inch and still leaning on the counter, his gaze set on you.

You nod. “I should finish my drink first though. I don’t want to waste the agua de Jamaica.” You lift your glass and take a sip.

“I can serve you more if you’d like,” Miguel offers, looking at the pitcher. “It’s very refreshing.”

“It is,” you respond. “I think I’ll have just a little more, please.”

“Of course.” Miguel moves at last and reaches for the pitcher.

You hold out your glass and he serves more of the maroon liquid, refilling it entirely.

“If you want more, just let me know,” he says placing the pitcher down.

You thank him and drink some more, Miguel’s gaze back on you.

You take your time drinking the water, not rushing at all. Miguel doesn’t seem preoccupied with the time either, as if he doesn’t have any work to do at HQ - as if it’s normal for him to be at home in the middle of the day on a weekday.

It’s about five minutes later that Lyla pops out of nowhere.

“Oh, you guys are still here? I thought you were gone already to your lunch,” she says looking at you before turning to Miguel. “And I thought you’d be doing some work somewhere in the multiverse. Shouldn’t you be going? You have - like eight minutes left,” Lyla continues, displaying a countdown for a few seconds before she disappears.

“Right. I should get going, or I might be late,” you say before downing the rest of your drink and standing up. You glance at Miguel. “I’m heading out now.”

Straightening up, Miguel nods in understanding. “Yes, alright… You don’t want to be late.”

“No, that would look bad.”

”And it’s unlike yourself to be late,” Miguel says, exhaling deeply. He unconsciously taps his pinky finger on the counter. “Do you have everything you need?”

Miguel’s question reminds you to check, so you quickly make sure you do. Today, you’re taking a handbag with you to store all your items, specifically your gizmo, so Harry doesn’t see it. You were lucky yesterday to be wearing something that hid your wrists, but today you’re wearing clothes that don’t easily conceal the device. You nod once you confirm. “Yes, it seems so.” You sigh softly and look back at Miguel, giving him another nod. It’s time to go, you tell yourself, curling your hand into a soft fist at your side. Your pinky finger flexes slightly but you ignore it. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Miguel nods, his tapping pinky finger going still at last. “I’ll be at HQ… I’ll see you there.” Miguel pauses, wanting to say something else. “Don’t hesitate to reach out if you need assistance of any kind,” he says, summarizing all of his thoughts with that sentence alone, even though he wants to say more, like how he’d meet you somewhere - anywhere - if you need to talk, or if you need a moment far away from everything.

You smile softly and nod. “I will, thank you. I’ll see you at HQ in an hour or so, then.”

“In an hour or so, then,” Miguel repeats, nodding.

Time is ticking and you remember that Lyla said you have about eight minutes. At least two more have gone by, which means you must have about six minutes left to leave and make it to the location. And yet, you feel rooted to the ground, right there in Miguel’s kitchen.

You remind yourself that you don’t want to be late, that you don’t want to seem disrespectful. That’s what makes you take a step back at last. You break your gaze away from Miguel and look down at your gizmo, preparing it to open a portal.

“Alright, I’m heading out now, or else, I’ll really be late,” you state, sheepishly.

Miguel nods, knowing you really must go now or you’ll definitely be a few minutes late. So, together, you walk to the living room where you finally open the portal to your universe.

Miguel’s pinky finger begins to flex over and over again as he walks just a few feet behind you. You turn to face Miguel.

“Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it. It’ll be alright. Just enjoy yourself. Remember,” Miguel pauses.

“It’s just a lunch,” you say, remembering his reassuring words from earlier.

“It’s just a lunch.” Miguel nods. It’s just a lunch with an old friend. You’ll be fine. You won’t be in harm’s way, he tells himself. Miguel’s gaze turns to the living room’s windows for just a fraction of a second, which reminds him that it’s pouring outside and that usually, the weather matches across universes. “Wait.”

Miguel turns and walks back to the kitchen before you can say anything, heading straight for the door that leads to the hallway where the laundry room and second office is located. You see him enter the laundry room for a few seconds before he walks out again with an umbrella in his hand. He walks back to you, reaching you in no time due to his long strides. He hands it to you. “Just in case it’s raining there, too. If it’s not, you can just leave it somewhere in the meantime, but please take it. I don’t want you getting caught in the rain without an umbrella and getting sick.”

Smiling, you accept the umbrella and nod. “Thank you. I actually forgot it’s raining and that it might be the same at my universe. I’ll keep it with me, just in case.” You tightly hold the umbrella in your hand, feeling a physical itch in your pinky finger that you try to ease by pressing your fingers together. “I’m ready,” you say, even though it’s not the truth because you suddenly feel like you’re forgetting something. You ignore the sensation and at last, turn around and begin to walk into the portal but before you fully enter it, you look over your shoulder to look at Miguel. “I’ll meet you at the lab!”

“Sounds good, I’ll wait for you there!” Miguel replies, watching as you disappear fully from his sight. “In an hour or so,” Miguel says out loud to himself.

He stands in the same spot until the portal fades completely and it’s only then when he notices his pinky finger flexing. He raises his hand and holds it out where the portal was just now.

Pinky hug, Miguel thinks to himself, but it’s too late now because you’re already gone.

Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose for a few seconds before he shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. He walks back to the kitchen, deciding to wash the glasses you both used before he returns to HQ.

“Done pouting?” Lyla asks, appearing once again, as he picks up your glass from the counter.

“Who’s pouting?”

“You were just now.”

“Do you have nothing else to do?”

“I always have things to do.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Miguel replies as he washes the glasses.

Lyla shrugs, watching Miguel. She notices the frown once again, the one that’s been present ever since a certain someone stepped into a portal and left Nueva York looking like they were being forced to. After a few seconds, she sighs. “She’ll be fine.”

“What?” Miguel asks distractedly, his mind somewhere else, in another universe that’s not his but one that feels like home regardless.

“She’ll be fine. Don’t worry too much about her. She’s Spider-Woman, you know.”

Miguel raises an eyebrow with a stern look on his face before he returns his attention back to the sink. He wants to argue that he’s not worried but that would be a lie. Miguel finishes washing the dishes before he dries his hands. He sighs and places the towel down. “Yeah… She’ll be okay.”

“That’s the spirit,” Lyla says even though there was little enthusiasm in Miguel’s words. “How about you head back to HQ? You have about three spider members looking for you.”

“I step out for an hour and everybody needs me,” Miguel says rolling his eyes.

“Well, to be fair no one is used to you leaving out of nowhere.”

“I leave all the time.”

“Not in the middle of the day to head to your penthouse. It’s always for a mission or something in regards to the Spider Society but today you’re here,” Lyla says. “It’s strange.”

“Alright, alright. Ya [Ok], I’m going back to HQ,” Miguel says heading to one of the windows to slip out of the penthouse. Outside, Miguel glances back inside the penthouse with a sigh. He finally closes the window and leaves, his mind still whirling with thoughts.

He reaches HQ in no time and sure enough, when he arrives there’s people waiting for him. Miguel takes care of the tasks, feeling like at least these distractions will keep him from thinking about where you’re at right now. Or rather, who you’re with.

It’s not even ten minutes later after the last person left when Miguel hears multiple sets of footsteps. He’s definitely not in the mood for visitors but his eyebrows raise when he sees who it is.

Hobie, Pav, and Miles.

“Miguel,” Hobie says, hands in his pockets, in black and white.

“Hey, Miguel,” Pav says much softer as the three spider members approach him.

“Tío [uncle],” Miles acknowledges him with a little wave.

“Hobie. Pav. Miles,” Miguel addresses them, standing on his ground level platform. He does a glance over, noticing they seem to be in a somber mood, which sends alarm bells in Miguel’s head. “Has something happened?” Miguel asks, now noticing that Hobie is in black and white, a sign that he’s not in a good mood. He learned about Hobie changing colors depending on his mood and who’s around him a while back. Hobie’s appearance makes Miguel wonder.

“So this guy,” Hobie starts. “Harry Osborn.” __☆

Upon stepping out into your own universe, you’re grateful to Miguel for being so thoughtful. Droplets of cold rain splatter on you before you immediately open the umbrella to shield yourself. Under Miguel’s umbrella, you waste no time and make your way down the building you chose as your location, saving yourself a lot of walking and even swinging to avoid any suspicions since you’re not wearing your Spider-Woman suit. You didn’t even bring it with you, so you hope there’s no need for it, or else you’ll have to travel back to Nueva York to retrieve it.

As you approach the entrance of the building where you’ll be having lunch, you briefly think about how convenient a holographic suit option could be in times like these. You could’ve easily thrown the little chip in your handbag, or sewn a secret pocket into your clothes and keep it there.

Maybe you’ll tell Miguel about it later. He did offer one a few months back when he accidentally made some rips to your suit when he was in the infirmary. You sigh as you make your way to another floor, thinking about how your suit is quite old. You’ve had it since before Peter died, maybe a year or two before his death, and you’ve refused to change it because he helped you design it.

You can tell these days that the fabric feels differently from so much wear. It has seen better days for sure, yet, you feel like you’d be parting away from a part of Peter if you change it. You know you’ll save it like every other suit you had before, so it’s not like you’d be throwing it away, but this one feels different because it was the last one he helped you design.

As you enter the designated floor, you think about it. Maybe you’ll ask Miguel about it, at least get his opinion. You’re sure he’d like to help you.

You glance at the umbrella again, now closed, and think of Miguel and how thoughtful he is. Not only that, but he’s been so comforting and assuring of this whole situation, so openly and without hesitation, too.

Just as you’re about to slip off your gizmo to put it away, you see a bunch of notifications come through from your other friends, all wishing you luck with your meeting.

You told them about Harry and today’s lunch a few hours after Miguel and you returned from lunch yesterday. Just like Miguel, they were able to tell that you were nervous even if they didn’t say anything about it. You smile as you read the encouraging words from them now before you activate the “Do not Disturb” mode and place it in your handbag.

You enter the main room and search for Harry as you take in the setting, noticing it’s a bit on the sophisticated side and filled with individuals in business attire. You imagine they’re probably some of the richest people in the city, considering Harry is one himself.

At last, you spot Harry when he stands up to greet you, so you head his way.

“Hey, you made it despite the weather,” Harry says with a smile.

“I did. It’s definitely raining out there,” you reply, giving him a small smile.

You both stand there for a few seconds, not knowing how to properly greet each other. Do you give him a handshake and make it formal? A hug, on the other hand, feels far too personal.

“Allow me,” Harry finally says before he pulls the other chair for you.

You thank him before sitting down, wondering how awkward this will be if neither of you were able to figure out how to greet each other. You calm yourself with Miguel’s words as Harry returns to his seat. It’s just lunch and it’ll be fine. Time will fly and it’ll be over before you realize.

“I’m relieved that you came,” Harry says adjusting his suit’s jacket. “I must admit… As I saw the time, I thought you had changed your mind - which I wouldn’t blame you for.” Harry looks down at the table. “But I’m glad you came. Thank you,” he says softly.

You nod. It didn’t occur to you to cancel on him. It was Miguel who suggested that you could meet him another time until you were ready since he noticed your tension.

“It never crossed my mind, to be honest. I’m glad I was able to make it, too, despite the weather. Thank you for the invitation,” you reply.

“Of course…” he responds giving you a brief smile before a waiter approaches your table.

You both order drinks to start and take a minute or two to look at the menu. Looking over it, you feel thankful that this alone will take some minutes.

You subtly glance up at Harry, his eyes on the menu. He also seems to not know what to do.

Turning your attention back to the menu, you realize you’re honestly not hungry after the half sandwich Miguel made and drinking so much agua de Jamaica, but you must order something. You finally find something that sounds light and hope it’s good.

“My dad loves this place,” Harry says placing his menu down. “They have great food and it helps that it’s close to Osborn Industries.”

“Yeah, I bet that makes it very convenient for a busy man like him.”

“I think so. And of course, he runs into old friends, too, so that must be another pro to the place,” Harry says glancing around, which makes you wonder if he recognizes anyone.

You nod. “It’s very beautiful, too. Lovely view,” you say glancing towards the windows.

“I’m glad you like it.”

You nod at each other, falling into a silence that’s somehow alleviated by the waiter who arrives with the drinks. He provides a small buffer between you as he takes your orders but all too soon, he’s gone.

As Miguel would say, shock, you think to yourself while taking a sip from your drink.

__☆

“Alright, so… You’re all unhappy about this lunch meeting?” Miguel asks after listening to the three spiderlings. It seems that they just wanted to vent, even Hobie.

“… Yes,” Pav replies.

“Yep,” Hobie responds at the same time as Pav.

“It’s just - I don’t know why Y/N accepted,” Miles asks in sync with the other two.

“Why?” Miguel asks.

“Because… Why is this guy now showing up?” Hobie replies. “So many years have passed since Peter’s death. It just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Or, me,” Miles adds and Pav nods.

Miguel raises an eyebrow. He can’t deny that he’s thought about that, too, about how sudden this all feels, but then again it happens, for better or worse. Plus, there's something else in Miguel's mind - something about Harry Osborn's sudden reappearance in your life that's gnawing at him. He can't pinpoint it right now in the presence of the three spider members.

He sighs and leans on his platform. It’s at least nice to know he’s not the only one having thoughts about this encounter between you and Harry, however, he’s not going to add to their worries with his own. No, Miguel is going to try and calm their worries as best as he can, they are, after all, still so young. And whether he realizes it or not, the paternal side of him feels the urge to ease their concerns.

“Look, guys,” Miguel starts, looking somewhere else, trying to gather his thoughts. After a few seconds, his red eyes shift back to theirs. “As much as we’d like to be there with her right now and question Osborn about his decision almost five years ago - question what kind of person does that to their friend,” Miguel says with a sharp tone. His relaxed face turns stoic at the thought of Osborn ghosting you right after Peter’s funeral - a change the other three Spider-Men notice - before Miguel reminds himself to calm down. “Believe me, I have many thoughts about that,” he says irritated but as he continues on, his voice and face expression become softer as he speaks of you. “But Y/N - she - she’s incredible. She’s a brilliant woman and I think we all know that. If she made the decision to meet him, we must support it. She knows what she’s doing - knows what she needs - and maybe this is a closure for her. As her friends… what matters is that we respect it and support her, the way she’s always supported us.”

Miguel meets everyone’s gazes, trying to drive his words home to make the younger members understand. He understands where they’re coming from but at the end of the day, they all need to respect your decision and support you. At last, they nod.

“It’s a good thing we’re not there, or we’d give this guy an earful,” Miles says, frowning.

Miguel nods in agreement. Harry Osborn is lucky it’s just you and not the entire spider gang, otherwise, he’d be receiving glares left and right.

“More than an earful,” Hobie says with a sigh.

“Personally, I think that guy needs a chat,” Pav says, nodding. “But we must respect Y/N.”

Miguel smiles a bit, glad to hear that the younger members have settled down a bit. He sighs before he straightens up and presses a button. His platform rises just enough so that Miguel can sit on it and have his long legs dangle from it. Three seconds later, Miles joins him with a sigh.

“So, I guess we wait,” Miles says.

“We wait,” Miguel repeats before all four Spider-Men fall into a silence.

Pav ends up taking a seat on Miguel’s other side. Meanwhile, Hobie stands, looking off to the side, still in black and white. About a minute or two passes when Miguel’s stomach grumbles, causing everyone to look at him.

“Did you have lunch?” Pav asks.

“No,” Miguel replies. “Well, I had half a sandwich.”

“Half a sandwich?” Hobie asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I split it with Y/N. I made it so she could eat something before she left, just in case.”

The younger spider members stare at each other at that. Miguel O’Hara made a sandwich and split it in half with you?

“That’s - kind of you,” Hobie says at last looking down at one of his boots, thinking.

“Very thoughtful,” Pav says smiling.

“I’m sure she really appreciated that,” Miles says with a little smile, sharing a look with Pav as Miguel looks at the floor.

“What time is it?” he asks, a question that Miles answers. He closes his eyes for a few seconds. It hasn’t even been thirty minutes.

“I think I saw a new batch of empanadas being put out,” Hobie says looking up.

Miguel looks up at Hobie and nods. “I might go in a bit and check, thanks for letting me know.”

“Sure,” he says, shrugging before he slips his hands into his vest, pink spots appearing randomly in his appearance.

“Where’s everyone else at?” Miguel asks curiously.

“They’re all spread out around HQ. Waiting for Y/N to come back,” Hobie responds.

“I see,” Miguel replies with a nod, thinking about your comment from two nights ago and how true it is.

Not only do you have each other, but the spider gang, too. __☆

“So…” Harry starts, clasping his hands over the table.

“How is work?” you ask, deciding to take control of the conversation.

Harry blinks in surprise, taken a back. He composes himself quickly though. “Good - it’s going good. Busy, which is good. It keeps me occupied,” he says, nodding.

“That’s great to hear,” you reply nodding. “Busy is good. And I’m sure Mr. Osborn is more than happy with that - with him always being so happy to work and staying busy.”

“Oh yeah, he loves it,” Harry says with a smile. “He’s happy having so much to do. I always have to remind him to take a moment, otherwise he’d be running around the building - wanting to be involved in everything. By the way, I told him we ran into each other. He was very happy to hear that you’re doing well.”

You smile warmly at that. Mr. Osborn was always kind with Peter and you, so much that he even offered internships at Osborn Industries at one point. Growing up, you saw him look after Harry like a father should despite being a single working parent. He always made time for every single school function Harry was involved in.

“Well, he’s a working man,” you say. “And I’m touched, thank you. I’m happy to hear he’s doing well, too.”

Harry nods, lifting his glass to take a sip. He sighs and looks at the windows. “This rain. It reminded me of the time Peter…” he trails off, looking back at you.

“You may talk about Peter,” you say. “I’m not going to fall apart listening to a memory about him.”

“I didn’t mean to make it seem like that.”

“I’m just letting you know,” you reply. “Almost five years later, I’m still learning to move forward, but I’ve grieved and healed some. It may not seem like it, but I have. Slowly but surely.”

The reminder of how much time has passed, almost five years in a few months, hits Harry. He stays quiet for several seconds.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to - I don’t know what you’ve been through all these years and I didn’t want to potentially upset you by bringing up a memory of him. I’m thankful that you’ve tried to move forward. Peter… Peter would’ve wanted that.”

You nod at Harry’s last statement. You never told Harry about Peter’s last words but he is right. Peter asked you to try and move forward. You sigh. “Thank you for trying to be considerate, but you don’t have to worry about upsetting me. So… what were you going to say?” you ask him, genuinely wanting to know because the truth is, Harry is one of the few people in this universe that can tell you stories about Peter. Everyone in your life as of right now never knew him, so for years, your memories alone are what you’ve held on to.

With a small smile, Harry continues. “I was thinking about this day when we were in college. It was raining so hard when we got out of a lecture but Peter simply pulled his rain jacket’s hood over his head. He didn’t want to wait. When I asked him where he was off to in a hurry, he said home. He told me he’d send me a message later and said bye before he headed into the rain. I remember standing outside under the roof and watching him take off, that Spider-Woman enamel pin on his backpack standing out in the rain. It was later when he told me he went to see you,” Harry says softly.

As Harry shares his memory, you smile, remembering that day. “I remember that day. He was soaked. My parents and I had to find him dry clothes,” you say. “And the Spider-Woman pin,” you pause and chuckle, remembering it now after so long. “He kept it all the way to the end of college. I still have it with his belongings.”

“I swear he was the biggest Spider-Woman fan,” Harry says with a soft chuckle. “Do you remember when…” Harry continues as more memories flood his mind.

The two of you continue to talk about the old days even when your food is brought to the table and thankfully, that’s the topic of discussion until the end. An hour later, and feeling much more at peace, you’re both standing in the first floor’s lobby. The rain hasn’t stopped at all.

“Do you want a ride home?” Harry offers.

“I’m alright, thank you though. I have my umbrella,” you say holding it up.

“Right,” Harry says with a bit of a disappointed look on his face. He clears his throat. “Thank you for agreeing to have lunch with me. I really enjoyed… Talking to you after so long.”

“I did, too,” you say gently, finding it to be true. After so many nerves, you ended up calming thanks to the memories of Peter. You silently thank him and wonder what he thinks of today from wherever he is. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course.” Harry nods. He stares at you for a few seconds, debating. “I was hoping - I want to ask you something,” Harry says. “It may be too much, but I can’t help myself from asking. Talking to you… It felt like the old times when we used to talk. I didn’t realize how much I missed that until today. I was wondering if - if we could meet again. For lunch, or dinner. Or, anything, really.”

You stare up at him, holding your umbrella and your handbag.

“You don’t have to say yes now. Think about it. I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me again, but just think about it,” he says with a sad smile before he retrieves his wallet. He pulls out a small piece of paper, a business card, and a pen from his top’s pocket. He scribbles quickly and hands you the business card. “My personal number, outside of work. If you’re open to it, call me whenever you want. I’ll get back to you if I miss your call. Just - think about it, okay?”

Holding the business card now, you glance at it for a few seconds, reading the scribbled phone number. You nod before placing it inside your handbag, unsure about your answer. “Thank you. I’ll - think about it.”

Harry nods. He wasn’t expecting a quick yes. “May I call you a ride, at least?”

“I’m alright, Harry. It’s just a little rain. I’ll be fine, truly. Thank you, though.”

“Alright. Please be careful on your way back,” he says, his eyes taking in the sight of you before you part ways. It might be the last time he sees you, after all.

“Likewise,” you reply. “Stay safe,” you add before you give him a small wave and exit the building, feeling his gaze. __☆

Miguel reads data from a screen. It's the fourth time he's read over a paragraph and the information doesn't stick. He slides the screen away. Maybe he should focus on something else that requires less attention.

“Your roommate is back. She's outside the lab asking if she can come in,” Lyla says popping up next to Miguel.

“She's back? I'm gla - Tell her yes. She can come in,” Miguel replies, his face lighting up.

Lyla nods and disappears. A few seconds later, Miguel can hear your footsteps before you step into view. There you are, already in your suit and with a smile.

“I did say in an hour or so,” you say, approaching his platform.

Miguel chuckles quietly, a soft smile grazing his lips. “You did. Did you - Did you enjoy your lunch?”

Stepping onto the platform, you nod and look at him. When you first joined the Spider Society, you never imagined stepping on Miguel’s platform but it’s no longer a strange feeling. You now know how to operate everything on his platform these days after he taught you and a few other members when he was injured last year during the spring. Sometimes you even use the screens when you wish to see what you’re working on in a larger scale, sharing the platform with Miguel. And it’s why you feel comfortable stepping on it now, even leaning back with Miguel facing you. He leans to the side, watching you tentatively to gauge your reaction, trying to detect any negative emotions in you but your smile is a true one. You seem at peace and that makes Miguel relieved.

“It went well - after a few minutes of awkwardness. I’ll admit, at the beginning I was disappointed when the waiter left too soon after taking our orders.”

Miguel grins in amusement. “That sounds like a rough start.”

You chuckle and make a face at him, a playful one that inspires a short exhale of air from Miguel out of amusement and ternura [fondness, endearment]. “It was, but thankfully, it slowly got better. He brought up a memory of Peter, from our college days, and that was how we were finally able to get past the awkwardness. I think he was nervous, too. From that point on, we talked about other memories. As you said, it was over before I even realized, thankfully.”

“I’m glad to hear that - that you found something that eased your nerves and his,” Miguel replies, feeling glad that you didn’t spend over an hour of discomfort in Osborn’s presence.

You sigh softly, a sign to Miguel that there’s more. He watches you carefully as you glance at a screen.

“He gave me his personal phone number by the end of it - said that he’d like to meet again, if I was open to it.”

Miguel nods, absorbing these news for a few seconds. He’d like to ask what your thoughts are on that but he refrains from doing so. He believes you’ll tell him once you’re ready to share. Right now, he has a feeling you haven’t fully given it thought considering you just came back.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t know the answer yet,” you say at last, turning to meet his gaze again.

With a look of understanding, Miguel replies, “You have time to think about it. There’s no rush to make a decision today.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” You nod to yourself, thinking. You’ll take a few days to consider it, but in this moment, all you want to do is settle down for the day - have some normalcy. All day, since morning, you’ve felt nervous and now that the lunch is over, you feel as though it has taken a mental toll on you. “Have you seen the others?”

“According to Hobie, they’ve all taken posts around HQ, waiting for you to come back,” he says, offering you a gentle smile.

“Really?” you ask, your face softening.

“Yeah… Including myself,” Miguel admits quietly, looking away.

You smile, feeling like all the tension from the day is slowly melting away. “I was more than ready to come back,” you admit as well. “You’re all so sweet,” you add, wishing you could lunge yourself at Miguel right now to give him a big hug but alas, Miguel is not there yet. “I really am lucky.”

Miguel’s gaze turns back to you at that, a hint of a smile on his face that grows into his usual smile for you. “We are, too,” he replies softly, sending a warmth through your body with his words.

As you both stand there, you think about how you should go see the rest of the spider gang to let them know that you’re back, but for the second time today, you don’t feel like leaving Miguel’s presence. So, you both stand there in each other’s presence until you both hear thunder.

“I guess we are having thunderstorms,” you say, still leaning back. “But hopefully we’ll be at the penthouse by then.”

“I’m sure we will,” Miguel replies, suddenly wishing that it was later in the day already. “I think - I’m going to leave around the time you usually head out.”

“Yeah? You have something to do?” you ask softly.

He shakes his head but then nods. “Actually, yeah. I was thinking for dinner we could have burritos de tinga, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m always up for burritos de tinga.”

Miguel grins and straightens up, his head tilting to the side. “Really? I had no idea. I thought the reason you smile every time you have them is just coincidence,” he says with a soft smirk now, his voice playful.

You chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ah, I see how it is now. In my defense, it’s not my fault you’re amazing in the kitchen. It’s your fault I love them so much, you know.”

Now Miguel chuckles, raising an eyebrow at you. “So now it’s my fault, eh? Very well, I’m guilty then, your honor.”

“Who is guilty?” Peter B. asks.

“And for what crime?” Jess asks.

Miguel and you turn, your eyes finding the spider gang. You straighten up as they all approach the platform.

“We heard you were back,” Pav says looking at you. “From Lyla.”

“I got back about ten minutes ago. It went well,” you reply, adding the last bit to ease any concerns from your friends. “It was just lunch,” you add, glancing at Miguel with a knowing look. He gives you a small smile before everyone surrounds the platform to ask you questions until the conversation turns to other things, like how it’s been raining all day and then to how your school age friends are not in school when they should be only to be told that you didn’t need to worry about that, at which Miguel and you shared another look.

Half an hour later, with everyone still in Miguel’s lab, Mayday swings to you to be held. You hold her, standing near Miguel as everyone else has their own conversation. The two of you watch in silence as your friends talk happily amongst themselves. You smile at the sight, thankful to be surrounded by friends once again.

The sight makes you wonder. Do you have space for one more, an old one, that is?

You fix Mayday’s wristband, the one she wears in order to travel through the multiverse with Peter as you think of Harry. Time will tell, sooner rather later.

“Miggle,” Mayday says looking over at Miguel.

“What did she say?” Peter asks, turning his attention to his daughter.

“Por favor no [please, no],” Miguel mutters next to you.

“Did she say ‘mingle?’” Peter asks coming over to his daughter with a bright smile.

You glance over at Miguel who looks like his face is about to turn into a grumpy one. “She said mingle,” you reply, with a smile to Peter. You hand her back to him.

“Another word! Mingle. Wow, where did she hear that? We haven’t taught her that one yet,” Peter says. “Good job, sweetie. Daddy is proud of you.”

After Peter walks away, still praising Mayday, you turn to Miguel, who is looking more than relieved. He glances at you. “Thank you. I know Peter would start calling me that if he heard it.”

You chuckle. “No worries. I got you cover.”

“Thankfully,” he replies relaxing.

After a few seconds and very quietly so only Miguel will hear, you speak again. “So, we are eating burritos de tinga, right, Miggle?”

“Yes, we are. We have all that we need to mak-” Miguel stops mid-sentence and turns to face you, eyes narrowed. “I see how it is.”

“What?” you ask, shrugging innocently.

“You said the m-word.”

You look away to hide your smile. “The m-word… All I said was your name. Miguel.”

“Yeah, okay, uhuh,” he replies. “Might not make the burritos after all.”

“Wait, no - please?” you say, turning to look at him. “Please, Miguel?” you add, emphasizing his name.

Miguel’s lips quiver as he fights the urge to smile but he gives up and almost rolls his eyes at himself. He’s too easily persuaded by you.

“Fine. Burritos de tinga for dinner,” he says with a smile. “But never call me that again with Peter within earshot, please,” he adds quietly for you to hear only.

You grin. “Alright, alright. I got it. Just don’t threaten my burritos de tinga, please. I can’t wait to get home,” you say happily.

Miguel chuckles, something inside him fluttering when he hears you say you’re ready to go home, to the penthouse. “Honestly, this weather makes me want to be home now. Maybe we can head out earlier…” he says softly as his eyes look around at your friends.

“I’d be down for that,” you reply.

“We’ll do that then, if nothing else comes up.”

To Miguel’s relief, and yours, nothing interferes with your plans. At the penthouse now, Miguel has a pan on the stove in which he’s cooking the tinga. The two of you are sitting side by side with your photo album laid out on the counter so the two of you can look at the photos. You brought it downstairs, wanting to look at more photos since the lunch with Harry unlocked memories you’ve been storing away.

Outside, the rain hasn’t let up and thunder has only increased since earlier when you were both in the lab. Thankfully, you are both at home now, shielded from the rain and in the comfort of the penthouse with Miguel’s record player on and delicious homemade food being cooked.

You lean back on your seat, still looking at the photos. Miguel’s eyes scan each one with close attention. You’re both in lounge clothes now, with plans to relax for the rest of the evening. You wonder if tonight you’ll go separate ways, or if you’ll hang out in the living room. You secretly hope it’s the latter, especially on an evening like this.

“Here we were at the student center,” you say softly as your eyes land on one photo of Peter and you in college. “It was some event for a student organization. I honestly can’t remember what it was called but somehow we got involved.”

Miguel chuckles quietly and nods. “So you joined clubs and organizations in college?”

“Yeah, I tried to,” you answer, remembering that that wasn’t something that came up yesterday when he was asking you questions of those days. “I got into honor ones and others.”

Miguel turns to look at you, a smile on his face. “I’m not surprised.”

Turning to face him, you smile, feeling a little shy. “Yeah, I was in a few.” You shrug as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Hmm.” Miguel turns back to look at the photos. “And look at those cords and medals,” Miguel says, gently tapping on a photo.

You look at the photo. “I earned a few.”

“Just a few, right,” Miguel says rolling his eyes playfully before he stands up. “Let me check on the food real quick.”

He checks the food, making sure it’s not burning and satisfied, he prepares everything to start heating tortillas before he returns to your side.

“Next page,” you say softly in a bit of a sing song voice as you turn the page. The photos on the new pages consist of both Peter and you, either photographed alone or together but one in particular catches Miguel’s eyes.

Peter and you are on a couch, sitting side by side. You’re both smiling but you’re the only one looking at the camera because Peter is looking at you. With his gaze glued to that photo, Miguel thinks about how there’s no doubt that Peter loved you. He can see it in the man’s eyes, the pure love and affection in them. You were the love of his life.

And Miguel knows you reciprocated all that love and affection. Despite the years since Peter’s death, your voice and face says it. You speak of him with love and fondness.

You both loved each other. So much.

Miguel gulps softly as he continues to stare at the photo. “You were so in love,” he says, so quietly you almost miss it.

You look at Miguel, following his gaze and realize what photo he’s focused on. You smile tenderly and nod. “We were.”

Miguel nods, his eyes still on the picture. “It looks like the kind of love that you only find once,” he comments. “The kind that a lot of people search for their entire lives.”

Still staring at the photo, you process Miguel’s words. You remember what Miguel told you about his wife and marriage a few days ago. You’ve been thinking about it since, how Miguel felt that he was in a loveless marriage, and that both him and his partner had only married to have a sense of family. By his words, Miguel has realized over time that he wasn’t truly in love with his partner. He loved her but not in a romantic way.

You reflect on his statements from just now - about searching for love and not finding it. Is that how he feels now? That he’s searched for it but hasn’t found it? That makes you wonder. Is Miguel still open to it? Or, has that door been shut?

You sigh softly and trace the photo with your fingertips, trying to find the right words.

“I’ve had the privilege of experiencing it - feeling it. To receive and return it,” you start, your gaze on the photo. “It’s truly a beautiful thing. All kind of love is, I believe, and our love, Peter’s and I… It was a beautiful one. I was - I am - fortunate to have experienced that kind of love,” you say, finally looking up at him. “However, I don’t believe that it’s a once in a lifetime thing.”

Miguel’s eyes turn to you, questioning. You shake your head.

“I think there are people who have the privilege of experiencing it twice, sometimes even more.” You give Miguel a soft smile. “That’s the thing about love, at least, that’s how I see it. I’m not a love expert,” you say, shrugging slightly. “But, I think love is so complex it can be found again. Perhaps it’s felt differently considering no relationship is the same but that doesn’t mean it’ll be felt with less intensity and connection - it wouldn’t be any less meaningful. You know - one time I remember reading something about this. It was something along the lines of how one can find the love of their life in one partner, and discover their soulmate in another one. I don’t know,” you say softly. “Maybe that makes no sense but… I think it’s possible. Love is love, as long as you love with your heart.”

Miguel nods slowly, your works sinking in just as a loud rumble of thunder fills the penthouse. It seems that over the last few minutes, the rain has grown stronger, and thunder and lightning have become more frequent. “You have a much positive perspective on it than most people do.”

You offer Miguel a small smile. “Maybe I’m naive, and there will be people who disagree, but that’s what I think. Especially, if you’re open to love again.”

Miguel nods, still staring at you as a question comes to mind. “And are… you?” He’s wondered this before - whether you’ve ever even considered the idea of a relationship after Peter, at least one in the future.

You hold his gaze and smile, another loud rumble filling the silence before you reply. “… I am. Just not now. I think I’ve been open to it for a while, the idea of it. One day, maybe. And that’s if I find someone that - you know.”

Miguel nods in understanding. He looks down at the album again. “Maybe one day,” he repeats, now staring at a photo of you alone, smiling at the camera. He silently wonders if Peter was the one who took the photo before he clears his throat, the penthouse’s lights flickering. “Thank you for sharing your thoughts,” he says sitting still for a few seconds before he stands up, remembering to check on the food. “It’s ready, how many burritos do you want?” he asks softly as he retrieves plates, thoughts of your reply in his mind.

You politely tell Miguel how many you’d like and while he prepares the burritos, you gather everything else that’s needed from glasses to napkins. All the while, the sound of rain against the windows grows. You notice the lights flicker a bit more but neither Miguel nor you think much of it, or at least, neither of you say anything about it. You put away your photo album, somewhere where you’ll see it and remember to take back upstairs to your room later on.

“Your burritos are ready,” Miguel says as you look out a window from a distance, watching as lightning scatters around the sky in bright flashes.

“Thank you,” you say turning back to the kitchen again, ready to serve drinks for both Miguel and you just as Miguel heads over to the counter, one plate in each hand.

Miguel has barely placed the plates down when the lights flicker again. You finish pouring the drinks, glancing up for a second.

“At least we still have-” you start.

“Power,” Miguel finishes your sentence, nodding.

Except, the lights flicker once again and this time, the penthouse goes dark. The music from the record player has cut off, so now it’s just the sound of the thunderstorm filling the air. After what feels like ten seconds, Miguel and you chuckle.

“We spoke too soon,” Miguel says, shaking his head in amusement. “Let me go and retrieve some flashlights. It usually doesn’t take long for it to be restored but we can’t have dinner in the darkness.”

“I have some candles upstairs,” you offer. “I’ll get those.”

“Okay, let me just - cover the food so it doesn’t get cold,” Miguel replies before the two of you head off in different directions to get what you need.

You come back downstairs with the candles and quickly light them up to get some lighting. You set them around the kitchen and dining room area, making sure to place each one in a safe area. As you place the last one, you hear Miguel’s footsteps, catching your attention. He steps back into the space, holding three flashlights, and looking around, he realizes your candles are more than sufficient for dinner. Either way, he places them on the counter to the side.

“The candles light up the place pretty well, what do you think?” you ask, meeting Miguel back at the countertop.

“I was just thinking that. No need for flashlights. I’ll leave them here either way, just in case you need one. Feel free to grab whichever. They all have new batteries,” Miguel says, tapping the flashlights before he gestures to your chair. “Come on, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

With a smile, you nod and quickly reach his side before taking a seat. You both begin to eat your food, at last, over candlelight and thunderstorm sounds.

“Oh, yeah, I found this,” Miguel says as he reaches into his pocket. He places a device on the countertop between you and then a few rectangular pieces.

Cassette tapes.

“No way, cassette tapes?” you ask with excitement, which Miguel immediately detects.

“Yes. They became trendy a few years ago - back when Gabriel was still alive, actually - so, many years now. Gabriel is actually the owner of this one. Some of these tapes are his, and some are mine. I saw them once I got the flashlights and figured, why not, since we can’t use the record player right now. I hope it works though, I haven’t tried it.”

“I hope so, I’d love to hear your music taste from back then. And Gabriel’s, too,” you say with a grin.

“Well, I hope you’re not disappointed. I don’t remember a thing from these things,” Miguel says, nervous that the music might not be to your taste, or his at this point in his life. He sets the device up and to his surprise, it works. “This one is one of Gabriel’s tapes. Let’s see what the vibe was for it since he never labeled them,” Miguel says shaking his head in sibling disapproval.

You take a bite from your food as you wait for the music to start and seconds later it does.

“It worked,” you say.

“I’m surprised it did. It hasn’t been used in forever.”

You chuckle and lean back as the music continues. “This is nice. I like the vibes,” you say. “Seems like Gabriel had good taste in music.”

Miguel raises an eyebrow, glancing over and noticing the way the candles lit up your face in a gentle manner. “You’ve only heard half of this song. You should wait before you make a decision because sometimes he’d play music that wasn’t pleasant to the ears.”

You laugh softly. “Really now? And what did he think about yours?”

“Probably the same thing,” Miguel replies with a grin before he takes a bite from his food.

You laugh again before you continue to eat, listening to the music and talking with Miguel, enjoying the conversation. You thank him for dinner once you’re both done and together, you clean up by candlelight.

You’re happy when you both head to the living room afterwards, neither of you wanting to part ways tonight. The cassette player comes along with you, which Miguel places on the coffee table before he settles on the couch, opposite of you. The candles, which you both moved to the living room, now light up the space as there’s still no power over an hour later, but neither of you seem to mind. If anything, you’re both enjoying the randomness of this moment.

You pull your blanket over your lap and grab your book, one you left a few days ago on the coffee table, next to Miguel’s. You’ve noticed that he’s been reading lately, a hobby he mentioned a while back but one he hasn’t made the time for, especially because it reminded him of Gaby. You wonder if seeing you reading has inspired him to start again. Either way, seeing Miguel reading anything other than reports and data makes you happy, especially because he’s reading one of the books you gifted him for Christmas.

As you get settled to start reading, Miguel picks up his, joining you in reading while soft music plays in the background despite the thunderstorm going strong.

You both read for what feels like an hour, at times stealing glances at each other from across the coffee table, until Miguel closes his book and places it back. He stretches his legs and glances at you just as you flip a page, finishing a chapter. You look up at him and give him a small smile.

“Tired of reading?”

“Kind of. My eyes are, at least,” he replies before he rubs them, a sight that you find endearing. He lowers his hands and glances at you. “What about you?”

You tilt your head to the side. “I think I’m done reading for tonight, too.” You repeat Miguel’s actions, closing and putting away your book, next to his again - spine to spine. “It’s still early,” you comment.

“It is,” he responds, looking around, thinking.

You look around yourself, spotting your tablet on the coffee table. “Do you want to look at new ideas I have for the penthouse? I found a few ideas you might like.” You look up at Miguel, waiting for his reply. “Unless, you want to do something else, then I can show them to you later.”

“No, no, let’s - look at them now. Please,” Miguel replies, looking at you. “I’d like to see what you found.”

You grin and prepare yourself to stand up.

“I’ll go to you,” Miguel says, making you stop before you even really began moving. He’s up and in front of you in the blink of an eye, taking a seat on the ground near you. He grabs the tablet and hands it to you before he pushes the coffee table away so he can stretch his long legs comfortably.

You feel a little in awe with how fast he moved but shake it off. You get off the couch and sit next to him on the ground, pulling your blanket along with you, which unintentionally ends up covering part of Miguel’s lap. Finally settled, you pull up saved photos and begin to show them to Miguel, who gives you his full attention. He nods and hums in approval, telling you when he really likes something. You feel a sense of satisfaction when you’re done showing him everything you saved because not once did he show disapproval.

“I like all of those ideas. Do you think we can work on it this weekend?” Miguel asks.

“Definitely. I’m up for it, if you are.”

“I’m up for it,” Miguel replies, still sitting next to you. He smiles softly as you scroll through other saved pictures. “You seem to have more ideas.”

“These are not that great,” you say, making a face of disapproval. “I found better ones later on.”

Miguel hums in response, still smiling. He watches as you make a movement in your tablet, moving pictures around. Despite being done with the photos, both of you remain in place, not moving. After a few minutes, you suggest finishing flipping through the photo album from earlier, something Miguel says yes to.

So, you find yourselves, once again, looking over your photo album. You flip through each page, telling Miguel the stories connected to the photos.

And Miguel? Miguel listens to every word you say, his gaze shifting between you as you talk and the photos.

Before either of you realize it, you close the photo album. “That’s it for this one. I have more, maybe I can show them to you later,” you say.

“I’d like that,” Miguel responds as he watches you place the album on the coffee table before you lean back on the couch, still sitting on the ground with Miguel. You sigh softly. “You tired?” he asks you softly, wondering if the day’s exhaustion has finally caught up with you.

“Nope,” you reply with a smile. “If anything, this weather and the music makes me want to stay up and simply enjoy the evening for a little longer, especially… In the presence of great company.”

That makes Miguel smile. “We can do that.”

You nod, getting more comfortable. You glance at the flickering candles, thinking about what a lovely evening this has been despite having no power and the day’s events. Miguel and you are simply enjoying each other’s presence over his brother’s music in the dim lit living room while it rains. There’s something about it - it’s so homey.

You slide lower, resting your head on the couch’s cushion.

“Do you want to lie down?”

You glance at Miguel. “Hmm, I might. I think - I think I’m going to stay up for a while longer. You?”

“… Same. If you’ll have me,” he says, which causes you to smile.

“It’s your living room.”

“And? It’s your living room, too.”

You look away at that, your cheeks suddenly feeling warm.

“It’s the truth,” Miguel says quietly. “You’re living here, for now, so… I said it before. My home is your home.”

“Thank you,” you say softly.

“Always.”

A few seconds of silence later, you lay down and stare up at the ceiling. “This is kind of a moment - a vibe.”

“Is it?” Miguel replies, glancing down at you for a second. He reaches behind him and pulls something. “Lift your head,” he says and once you do, you feel him slide one of the decorative pillows under your head.

You thank Miguel for the kind gesture, unable to stop yourself from smiling about it. You lay there for several minutes, Miguel sitting at your side until he eventually lays down, too.

You both listen as a new song starts to play. It’s the kind that’s perfect for a rainy evening such as this one - soft and slow, and yet sweet and groovy.

“I wanna plant you in my heart, oh, so love can grow…”

Miguel lays there, listening to the song. Gabriel always found gems when it came to music, Miguel will give him that. He continues to listen to the song but his mind shifts to other topics without wanting to, such as his comment from a few minutes ago.

“You’re living here, for now, so… I said it before. My home is your home.”

For now. You’re living here for now.

Once again, Miguel thinks about how great it’s been to have you here, staying with him. He doesn’t want to think about the day you return to your universe. He’s tried to avoid thinking about it and for the most part, it has worked. Until now.

“May I tell you something?” Miguel asks as you both lay on the ground.

“Of course.”

“I’ve been thinking about your apartment - when construction is completed and it’s livable again.”

You glance at him but Miguel is staring right at the ceiling, unable to meet your gaze.

“You have…?” you ask gently, wondering where Miguel is going with this.

“Yes… I’ve been thinking about it. Is it crazy that I,” Miguel pauses, wondering if he should really say what’s on his mind but ultimately, he says it. “I’m going to - miss you,” he says at last with a sigh. A few seconds later, Miguel turns his head to face you, his red eyes find yours. And like always, there’s no judgement from you. Instead, Miguel finds a smile.

“I’m going to miss you, too,” you say softly, your heart swelling with pride, affection, and love for Miguel because you know sometimes it’s hard for him to share his feelings and thoughts and yet, he’s done it tonight.

Miguel’s eyes widen a little at your words, as if there was doubt in his mind that you would miss him, too.

“A lot, actually,” you say, looking away now.

Miguel’s lips twitch upwards into a small smile. “You are?”

You glance back at him, finding his smile. It brings one to your face, too, because Miguel seems genuinely happy to hear your words. “Yeah,” you reply. “You seem happy.”

“I’m just glad I’m not the only one feeling like that,” he confesses, still smiling.

“You are not. I… I’ve actually thought about how quickly I got used to living with someone again - with you.”

“Me, too,” Miguel says before he rolls on his side, supporting his head with his hand, staring at you. “I think we’re… We’ve been great roommates.”

That statement makes you smile a little more. You nod before you copy Miguel’s position, so that you’re both facing each other now. “I think so, too.”

Miguel gives you a little grin, satisfied to hear that you agree, but a part of him still feels untranquil. You’ll be leaving at one point, even though you’ve both enjoyed this temporary arrangement, that is a given and you both know that. Unless…

Miguel and you look away from each other as a similar thought crosses your minds, one that neither of you dare say out loud.

It’s crazy to think about a long-term possibility, right?

You sigh softly after several minutes of silence, thinking about something else to avoid other thoughts.

“You know, you asked me a lot of questions about college. I feel as though I don’t know the same about you. Yet.”

“Yet,” Miguel says with a small grin, his thoughts scattered. “What do you want to know?”

“Well…” you start with the first question and as always, Miguel listens intently. He answers your questions and satisfies your curiosity like you satisfied his the day before. Each time you ask something different - something he didn’t think about asking already - he returns the question, wanting to learn even more about you.

All the while, there’s a bright look on Miguel’s face as your conversation continues. His eyes light up as he hears your questions and genuine interest in his life before you ever crossed paths.

There’s a happiness in them, one that has grown over time with and because of you, replacing a sadness that had settled in those beautiful autumn eyes for so long.

At some point, without realizing it, Miguel stopped being el muchacho de los ojos tristes, the young man with sad eyes.

And at some point, you started to find safety in those maroon eyes - the same ones you gaze into while falling asleep on the living room floor, but before fully succumbing to your exhaustion, you offer something to Miguel. It’s what you’ve both wanted since you repeated “Always” to each other on your bedroom floor two nights ago. It’s what both your bodies longed for earlier today, before you went out for lunch with Harry.

A heartbeat later, your pinky finger is gently held by Miguel’s and just like that, his warmth, presence, and scent lull you to sleep while those warm eyes guard your sleep.

Translations: café de olla - coffee made in a pot pan dulce - Mexican bread polvorón - description provided in text; for my friend @faretheeoscar !! telenovela - Latin soap opera Mira - look agua de horchata - rice water agua de Jamaica - hibiscus water Uno nunca sabe - one never knows Ya - used in place of "ok" Tío - uncle ternura - endearment; fondness burritos de tinga - I feel like you know this by now. I had some Wednesday and they were bomb despite not being made by Miguel *sigh* Por favor no - please, no el muchacho de los ojos tristes - the young man with the sad eyes; brb gonna go cry from HQ's rooftop now that Miguel showed us the secret window

A/N: I'm gonna make this quick since at this point you've read like three or four chapters from an actual book! 🫣 Some of you may have seen a post I made last Sunday but just in case you haven't: I'm sorry for how long it took me to update. Last month was a bit off for me and I didn't feel like writing. It might sound silly but I feel like I get seasonal depression but for spring. 😂😭 I'm a fall and winter gal, so I always feel down around this time for some reason. I also had other life things going on, so I hardly got on here or other social media. Anyway, I'm better now :) I hope you guys enjoyed this update! Thank you for being so patient with me and for supporting this fic. I say it again and again, so much I probably sound like a broken record, but it truly means so much to me!! I hope you all have a wonderful weekend and please stay safe ❤️

-Alondra

taglist: (text block limit sucks) @loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @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

[beenbaanbuun]

the show w/ choi jongho

thinking about meeting jongho at a hardcore gig. you don’t really know the band that’s playing, but you’ve heard of them and after finding yourself alone and bored on a random tuesday night, you figure you might as well!

so you take a trip down to your local alternative music club, an oversized band t-shirt handing loosely over the tiny skirt you decided to wear. you can barely see the hem of it before your fishnet-covered thighs are exposed. they bulge over the top of your thigh highs, looking just as soft as squishy as you wanted them to. on your feet rest a pair of old skool vans, beat up and a little gross after years of abuse in mosh pits and venues so disgusting that the floor always seems to be covered by a thick layer of grunge. they’re your favourite pair of shoes, the memories they hold being worth more than their prettiness.

the venue hits you in the face with the scent of stale beer and sweat; it’s gross but you can’t help but smile as you head towards the bar. theres just something so familiar about the foul smell.

“excuse me,” you say to the group of men huddling around the counter, all with full cups of beer in their grasp. they’re too engrossed in conversation to even notice you as you stand there tapping your foot, and you can’t help but let out an agitated sigh, “or just don’t move, i guess; that works too.”

you take a step forward, about to physically push your way through them. the beer that is guaranteed to be spilled down your top is just residual damage. it’s bound to happen anyway since no one can keep their drinks in their hands once a band steps on stage. you brace yourself for the angry grunts you’re about to get and then—

a hand cups your shoulder, holding you back. it’s warm, and as you look down at it, surprisingly well manicured. huh… you didn’t know men who listened to hardcore knew how to take care of themselves to that extent. you follow his arm up, slightly disappointed at the way his beige crew neck covers his arms—with the way his hand is gripping you, you can tell he’s got strength. your gaze shifts past his neck, taking note of the cute little freckle, before moving up to his face.

holy hell.

your lips part a little and you take in a shuddery breath. he’s beautiful.

his skin glows like honey in the sunlight, looking flawless even in the dim lighting of the club. the muscles in his jaw ripple beneath his skin as he clenches it; you swallow thickly. “‘scuse us, gents,” he says, his perfect lips moving in a way that has you unable to stop staring at them. and his voice? god, you want to obey every word that he says in that syrupy cadence.

you don’t even notice when the men part, only moving forward when the handsome stranger puts pressure on your shoulder to guide you through the crowd. you let him, happy to go wherever he takes you as long as his warm hand never leaves your shoulder.

he only stops when the two of you meet the bar and his gaze shifts down to meet yours. you feel your insides melt at the sight of his black irises that seem to glitter as if they hold the universe within them. you suck in a sharp breath though your nose and— holy fuck, is it him that smells that good? the scent of spices fills your head and you feel your knees go weak. your hand finds the bar, ignoring the stickiness in favour of keeping yourself upright.

“what are you drinking?” he asks in that smooth voice. the question almost doesn’t register, your brain too invested in him to even think about anything else. it takes a moment or two for you to realise that oh! he’s taking to you? and a moment or two more for you to pull yourself together enough to give a coherent answer.

“uh, beer?” you say, trying to come off as cool. he smiles and it’s the prettiest thing you think you’ve ever seen.

“you don’t sound too sure about that,” there’s a hint of amusement in his voice and it makes you wonder what his laugh sounds like. probably as beautiful as the rest of him. “i wouldn’t so sure be either; beer is gross. that’s why i’ll be having a double vodka cran… want one?”

you nod silently and his smile grows until you can see his gums. it’s adorable, and it makes your heart beat at an almost concerning pace. is it too early to break out the L word? probably, you tell yourself.

“a vodka cran it is, pretty girl,” he says, and you die a little inside. pretty girl? it’s like he’s trying to send your heart into overdrive, “i’ll have it in your hands in no time. i’m great at flagging down bar staff.” he wiggles his eyebrows as if his self proclaimed sufficiency at bars is something for you to be impressed by. you find yourself giggling, which only makes his face light up more. you swear he mumbles a quick ‘cute’ under his breath, but perhaps that’s just your delusions speaking.

he’s right, though. he does have your drink in your hand in a matter of minutes. he passes it to you with a wink and a click of the tongue before leaning over to grab two straws from the bar. he slips one into his own drink before passing you the other. you take it and slide it into your cup.

“how much was it?” you ask before descending on your straw. even as you take a sip, you never once look away from him. you watch his adams apple bob when you wrap your lips around the paper and suck; you think nothing of it.

“for you? free,” he slips his own straw in his mouth, gulping down a few mouthfuls before pulling a face at the taste. you have to agree, the vodka they use has always been pretty foul; no amount of watered down mixer can mask the taste of the cheap spirit.

you tug the straw away; the strangers eyes flick down to see the lipstick stain left on the paper. he finds himself sending a mental thank you to whoever decided to play the pre-show playlist at an unnecessary volume; at least it hides the involuntary groan he lets out at the sight.

“and for you?” you ask as you swirl your cup in your hand in the hopes of mixing it a little better, “how much was my drink?”

he goes back in for another sip, shrugging as he grins around the straw. it’s soon wiped away by the taste of the beverage, you laugh as you watch a shiver go down his spine. he pulls away and coughs.

“a gentleman never talks about money,” he says with a strained voice, “but just know it was fucking overpriced for how it tastes. does it always taste like this?”

you nod, a pained smile taking over your expression.

“unfortunately so,” you take another sip, only to find out that your ‘mixing’ had done nothing; it still tastes like shit. you purse your lips as you pull away, tensing to stop your own body from shivering. it doesn’t work; the man still lets out a chuckle as he watches you shudder. “what do you usually get?”

a sheepish look takes over his face.

“beer-”

“beer?!” you scoff, leaning forward to hit his arm gently with your fist. it can’t have hurt him, but he pulls a faux pained expression anyway, rubbing over the flesh with his other hand. it brings a smile onto your face to see him play into your antics. “you told me you didn’t like beer!”

he shrugs.

“i didn’t want you to think i’d judge you for drinking something ‘girly’,” he warps his voice and rolls his eyes as he mentions the gendered drinks you hold in your hands, clearly expressing his dismissal of the concept. “but now i’ve tasted it, maybe i am judging you. it really does taste like shit.”

“i know,” you agree.

you fall into a comfortable silence, the both of you slowly getting your drinks down you as the world seems to carry on around you. the bar bustles behind you, but you ignore it in favour of watching the man in front of you. his expressions as he rips the straw free and tips the last bit of his drink down his throat has you giggling. the way he glares at the man who bumps into you has you swooning. how he bops his head in time to the music has you falling deeper and deeper into this pit you’d found yourself in. it’s too soon for the L-word—you don’t even know his name yet—but you’re almost positive that this is how it’s supposed to feel.

you finish up your drink, wincing as the vodka burns your throat on the way down. your lips pull away from the straw and almost immediately, a warm hand covers yours. your stranger pulls the empty cup from your hand and puts it on the ledge to be taken away later. you smile, grateful for the tiny act of service that realistically shouldn’t be making your heart ache to the level it is doing. you don’t even know the man…

“what’s your name?” the sudden question startles him; clearly he wasn’t expecting the lull in conversation to be broken so quickly. he soon recovers, though, smirking at you as if your simple question was akin to you flirting with him.

“choi jongho,” he hums, “what’s yours?”

you tell him. he smiles in response, “pretty name for a pretty girl…” heat burns under your skin; you hope the poor lighting is enough to hide the way your cheeks darken.

“thanks,” you purr, “yours isn’t so bad either.”

he huffs out a breath of laughter through his nose before opening his mouth to say something else. it’s just his luck that the moment he does, the lights dim even further and a loud drumbeat kicks in from the stage.

“good fucking evening! we are—”

the microphone peaks, making you wince at the screech that echos through the venue. jongho’s eyes scrunch shut as he tries to block out the sound, but it’s too abrasive to ignore. he grabs your hand and leans in close.

“i have a feeling this is going to fucking suck,” he yells over the guitar that’s begun to warble tunelessly through the club. you nod wordlessly against him, too distracted by the sudden proximity to actually speak. “i know a pretty cool cafe near-by. it’s open late and they serve really good coffee… do you maybe want to get out of here before we lose our hearing and out will to live?”

again, you nod.

“good,” he leans in to press a warm kiss to your cheek. your heart does a fucking backflip in your rib cage. “it’s a date…”

[auras-moonstone]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ guilty as sin ?

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.2k

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: step brother!ethan landry x step sister!fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 based on: guilty as sin? by taylor swift

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: step siblings trope. they are not blood-related. their parents aren’t even married, just dating. tension. implication of dirty thoughts/dreams, but nothing explicit. fluff.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: hi! it’s been almost a month since the last time i posted, i’m so sorry. between college and work, i barely have time to breathe so my writing slowed down a lot. besides, my dog hasn’t been doing so good lately so, even though i try to write a bit at home to distract me, my head’s not really in it.

today marked twelve months of wondering why—why, of all people, did they have to fall for each other? it marked a whole year of torture for y/n and ethan, a year of having to lock their longing down in a vault everyday, every hour of the day. being forced to have the person you yearn for constantly close to you when you couldn’t have them had to be the cruelest way of living.

it was on days like this, when their parents left them completely alone in the house, that things got heavy. without the two living reminders of why they couldn’t be out of the picture, lines got blurry for the step-siblings.

the two of them were sitting by the coffee table doing their assignments when y/n let out a frustrated groan. “what’s wrong, grumpy?” ethan asked.

“i’m stuck at this equation.”

“let me see.” he slid closer to her and looked down at the notebook over her shoulder. the smell of coconut invaded his senses and he put all of his strength into stopping himself from burying his nose in the crook of her neck and press his lips against her soft skin. she was so irresistible, everything about her made him weak in the knees. “here, you forgot to pass the number to negative.”

“oh… right. sorry. it completely went over my head.” she let out a nervous chuckle. the feeling of his hot breath against the back of her ear made her senses go so wild she felt like her body was shutting down.

“it’s okay, i think you’re just stressed.” ethan said moving back to his place, and y/n was allowed to breathe again.

“yeah, my head feels like exploding” y/n said. now that ethan was fully facing her, he took notice of her flushed cheeks. was it because of him? he shouldn’t hope so, but he really did. “should we make dinner?”

no, ethan almost said. he just wanted to drag her into his lap and kiss the fuck out of her gorgeous face. but unless the gods hear his prayers and their parents broke up, ethan was going to have to settle for recalling in his head things they never did.

having visions about his step-sister wasn’t exactly right, but someone once said: there’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk. so, without ever touching her skin, how could he be guilty as sin?

“what are you in the mood for?” y/n asked as they walked to the kitchen.

“pasta?” he suggested.

“yes.” she did a little bounce. “i love your salsa.”

they danced around the kitchen with meticulous steps, making sure they didn’t bump into the other. even one brush could be dangerous when no one was around and they knew it.

“here, try it.” ethan raised a spoon with a bit of salsa. y/n moaned in delight at the taste and ethan’s grip on the spoon tightened. the night barely started and control was already slipping through his fingers. “jesus christ.”

y/n’s eyes met his lust-filled ones and her heart felt like collapsing. “ethan…” her tone was almost begging.

“we should eat in our rooms. separately.” the words rushed out of his mouth as he took a step back. her disappointing eyes pierced his heart, but they just couldn’t. one kiss would never be enough, and doing it regularly was a risk. who knows what their parents would do if they found out, and ethan would rather be miserable with her around than miserable without her.

with one quick nod, y/n served the plates completely defeated. it killed ethan to reject her, but he knew it was the right thing. or so he thought, because once he was alone in the four walls of his bedroom, the what ifs started invading his mind and a pint of regret swarm through his chest.

after an hour of overthinking, he decided they needed to talk. cards needed to be put on the table, and then they could figure out how to go on—which option should they choose, keep on ignoring their feelings or risk everything by not holding back anymore.

ethan was about to knock but his fist froze mid-air when he heard her laboured breaths and then the sound of his name being screamed. on the other side of the door, y/n woke up with her sheets ablaze and sweaty skin.

she’s had fantasies about her and ethan, but none like that one. it all had been innocent, she never dared to cross that line but tonight the tension had been so intense between the two, her brain absorbed it and painted it into a dangerous dream which made her feel guilty and sinful.

“i need to shower.” she muttered, feeling disgusted by herself. but when she opened the door of her room, she crashed into the object of her fatal fantasies. “ethan?” she squealed. “what are you doing here? h-how long—?” but he couldn’t utter a word, and that was her answer. “shit. i’m so sorry, ethan. i’m just- i’m gonna hide in my room for the rest of eternity.”

she turned around and entered her room again, but before she could scold herself for the awkwardness she had caused, the door flew open. suddenly, her front was pressed against a hard chest and full lips collided with hers.

like reflect, her fingers tangled around the soft brunet locks and ethan hummed in content. the kiss started harsh and needy, but soon turned into a sweeter one.

“you’re like a paradox, you know that?” she whispered in a breath. ethan made a questioning sound. “one moment you’re escaping me and then you come to my room and cross the line you’ve been trying so hard to draw.”

ethan grabbed her hand and guided her to the bed. y/n snuggled his side as ethan rubbed her arm affectionately. “i was stupid to think we could keep ignoring the pull between us. today was…”

“definitely intense.” she finished and he agreed. “how do we go on?”

“i want you to be my girlfriend, but we will have to be careful for a while.” ethan said. “we won’t be able to keep it a secret for too long.”

“they’re going to kill us.” y/n sighed, tracing the shape of his lips with her fingertips.

“but what a way to die.” he pressed a kiss on her hand “we’re going to be like romeo and juliet.”

y/n held back a grin “romeo and juliet weren’t killed, they committed suicide.”

“whatever, smartass.” he pinched her side. “for real though. we won’t be able to hide this forever, not if we want a long term relationship. we’ll have to tell them and they’ll probably be furious. are you sure you’re in?”

“i’m all in, ethan. i choose you and me, forever.” she assured him.

“forever sounds amazing.” ethan looked down at her with lovesick eyes.

they stayed in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth. ethan’s fingers were moving against her skin, making her feel relaxed. after a few seconds, she realized he was drawing an specific pattern, and a wide smile broke into her face—ethan was writing ‘mine’ in her upper thigh.

“you’re so sweet you’re going to make my heart explode.” she hugged him tightly, hiding her warm cheeks in his chest.

“hey, now that i have you, i’m not holding back. i’m going to be so sweet to you it’s going to disgust you eventually.”

“i’m a sucker for sweet gestures so bring it on.”

“challenge accepted.”

[sturnsslut]

summer camp - matt sturniolo

a/n: this is for lia and peyton 🎀 but leave requests !! i’ll answer all + lowercase intended & readers name in this story is MELANIE

warnings: switch!matt x switch!reader, smoking , overstimulation, p in v, unprotected sex ( don’t you ever ) pet names, slight choking, begging, oral (m receiving) fingering, praising, etc.

——————————————————————————

‘ all these tattoos on my skin they turn you on ..’

the screaming, the crying, the kids, all of it. i needed a break

why would my mom put me in an all kids camp when i’m 19?

we were playing capture the flag, and i wasn’t doing anything but sitting on my ass so i figured i’d sneak away.

i was walking in the woods when i saw a small light peeking through the branches

i shouldn’t have, but my curiosity got the best of me and i wandered closer to the light, wondering what it was.

that’s when i saw one of the camp counselors, matt i think his name was, sitting on a log smoking a blunt surrounded by lanterns

i stepped closer to see if he would notice me standing there or if he was just obvious

that is until i stepped on a stick. a fucking stick.

matt’s head shot up and he fumbled with the blunt in his hands until the end touched his hand and he burned himself “shit!” he said under his breath

i giggled at his clumsiness until he just left it on the ground and walked up to me

“i- um…how much of that did you see?” he asked pointing with his thumb to the spot he was just previously in

“ i saw enough to know you were smoking “ i said in a playful tone, tilting my head

“fuck.” he muttered out while rubbing his forehead

“please don’t tell anyone i-“ he sighed before speaking again “i know im not allowed, but these kids drive me to get like this sometimes, and i need this job i-“

i cut off his nervous rambling before speaking “im not, chill out.” i giggled

he let out a sigh of relief “thank fuck” he looked much more relived and relaxed knowing his secret was safe.

“how long ago did you roll that?” i asked furrowing my brows

“like …10 minutes ago but all i did was take like 2 hits” i thought for a moment before walking infront of him and sitting down on the log he was sat on just minutes ago

“ come on “ i waved him over before picking the blunt off of the ground

he still looked stunned by my actions, as if i was playing a joke on him or something. “you coming?” i said tilting my head, snapping him out of the trance he was in

“you sure…?” be still seemed hesitant

“im 19. i smoke weed ton, like, all the time.” i said reassuring him

“fuck it” he mumbled and made his way over, sitting next to me handing me a lighter

i sparked up the blunt before taking a hit, closing my eyes as i blew the smoke out

the feeling was amazing, i opened my eyes to find matt looking at me in shock

“what?” i giggled at his surprised expression, passing him the blunt

“uh nothing” he shook his head and took a hit, coughing slightly before passing it back to me

“your a lifesaver. it’s matt right?” i quizzed, gratefully accepting the blunt again

“yeah, and your melanie?”

“mhm”

we sat and talked for 2 hours, we had deep talks, and learned a lot about eachother. i liked matt.

he was so sweet, caring, he was genuine and raw, and he wasn’t afraid to express his feelings. that’s a man.

he laughed, i cried a little, we opened up to eachother, occasionally having to relight the blunt if one of us talked for too long. and we were both over sharers and we both liked to listen, so it worked perfectly fine.

he offered me the last hit of the blunt, which is literally the key to my heart

even afterwards we continued talking, and now we were both laying our heads against the log, laid down on the leaves underneath us, looking up at the twinkling stars that were above us.

i turned to face matt, resting my head on both of my hands

he was telling me a story from high school, and i don’t know if it was because i was high or what, but he looked so good under the dim lantern lights, and the way the moonlight complimented his eyes was turning me on.

“ what?” he looked over at me smiling and giggling

“nothing” i said giggling back at him “ your just pretty”

his cheeks flushed a bright rose red and he cleared his throat before speaking “thank you so um…where was i” he nervously answered and stuttering

“wait” i cut him off

he looked at me eyebrows raised, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers due to his nervousness.

“ why are you nervous “ i asked, my eyes staring deep into his low, slightly pink eyes

“ what do you mean?” he said trying to contain his nerves, his voice shaky

“you got flustered when i called you pretty. why?” i asked furrowing my brows and smirking

“ i don’t know it..it just happened?” he replied, still twisting the metal rings around his long fingers

i looked down and noticed this, so i grabbed his hand and asked if he was okay

he shook his head and we continued our conversation, me not even realizing that our hands were now interlocked and our fingers were intertwined with one another.

i got cold while he was talking so i moved closer to him, laying one of my legs over his and moving in closer to his neck, still holding his hand

he was still telling some story but the sudden movement cause him to go silent, and i heard his breath hitch

“ why’d you stop talking? “ i asked looking up at him

he hesitated before speaking “ no reason ..where’s all this coming from?” he giggled, referring to our newfound position

“ i just felt cold. i wanted to feel you. “ i say in a slightly teasing tone, testing my limits to see what he would do.

he stutters over his words, flustered by my sudden boldness and change of mood

i giggle and bury my nose more into his neck causing him to let out the slightest whine

“ shit melanie …watch ..” he grunts before finishing his sentence “ watch what your doing. “

“ what? you hard or something ?” i ask in a joking way, before i noticed matt went completely silent

“ oh you are..oh you are! holy shit” i giggle and look down at his sweatpants to see his buldge poking through his pants

“ fuck off dude “ he laughs and rolls his eyes and puts his arm around me “ still cold?” he asks trying to switch the topic

“ no..but we’re not moving past this ..” i say sitting up “how?”

“i dont know ..you were really close to me?” he sits up with me shrugging his shoulders

i laugh and there’s a moment of silence before i speak up, “can i help you? y’know with..that.” i ask, cause why not. worth a try.

“ you are full of surprises mel. but i mean..if you want…” he answers as if he was unsure

“ matt i don’t care. i WANNA help you ..but it’s up to you” i reply tilting my head

“ go for it then “ he dryly laughs and shrugs his shoulders, sitting up more

i smile and make my way over to matt, straddling him and crashing my lips into his

his hands immediately meet my waist, holding me down right on top of his boner

i let out a small moan as his kisses get lower and eventually meet my neck, leaving hickeys everywhere

i grab the back of his head and grab some of his hair as he continues to mark me up

“ shit “ i say weakly before connecting our lips again

his hands still on my waist before he starts moving me back and forth on top of him

i grind slowly against his hard cock while still kissing him, earning small whines from him.

his hands move farther from my waist to under my shirt, i jerk at the feeling of his cold rings against my skin

i break the kiss taking off my shirt and tossing it to the side

i look back to matt to see him admiring my body and i giggle at the sight

MATTS POV

god she was so perfect. she was wearing a black bra with lace in the middle

it complimented her tits so well, they say perfectly. i never thought this moment would come, yet here i am

truth is i’ve had a small crush on melanie since she first came to camp. then it developed. but i never thought she’d notice me, let alone hookup with me

“ your so perfect. “ i say in awe, mt eyes scanning every inch of her that is currently revealed right in front of me.

just looking at her like this, i could cum right now. but i need to get a grip and please her

END OF MATTS POV

i laughed at his comment before kissing his again and working my way down

i told him to take off his shirt and he obeyed, tossing the shirt right alongside mine

i placed gentle kisses to his stomach, then down to his happy trail “ take these off. “

he lifted his hips in an upward motion to help me slide them off of him, now he was left in his boxers

“ wait “ i stood up and took off my pants just as he did, now i was left in my pink laced underwear

i straddled him again and we started making out, his hands finding their way to my ass

i grinded on him, feeling his hard dick rub against my aching pussy i let out a small moan

i reached my hand in between us and palmed him, kissing him on his neck

“ shit “ he breathed out in a low tone. that was my signal to stop teasing him

i pulled down his boxers and his dick sprung out, hitting his stomach as my eyes widened in shock, he was huge.

“ what?” he says giggling and panting, trying to catch his breath from the previous make out

“jesus matt your huge! what the fuck” i say looking at him then back at his dick

he laughed and i took a deep breath in trying my best to prepare myself, i still couldn’t get over his size.

i grabbed his dick and i heard his breath shutter from the sudden contact

i lean down and look at his pink tip, dripping with precum and his cock buldging because of how hard he was.

i take in only the tip, swirling my tongue around his slit causing him to buck his hips up, already eager for more

i took his tip out of my mouth and sat up, spitting in my hand and began jerking him off

his body instantly reacted to the contact, matt whining and throwing his head back

i leaned back down and took in as much as i could, jerking off whatever i couldn’t fit in my mouth even though it was only like 2 more inches.

i sat up for a second to catch my breath, and i look up at matt to see him with his head thrown back, his face a light pink color

“ matt? you good?” i giggle asking him

“better than good.” he panted and laughed

i leaned back down and licked all the way up his cock before taking in all i could again

i didn’t expect him to do anything until he grabbed a fistful of my hair , pushing himself further into my throat

i gagged repeatedly as he basically just face fucked me, i looked up at him through my lashes and saw him already looking at me.

tears stained my cheeks from the amount of gagging i was doing. “ what, you like how my cock feels in your pretty little mouth?” he said in a dominant, yet whiny tone.

all i could do was hum in response, the action sending vibrations straight to his dick

“ fuck mel ..i’m so close baby your doing so good”

that’s when i took it into my own hands to help him finish faster

even though he had my hair in his hand, i still bobbed my head up and down as fast as i could, causing him grown

the sounds went straight to my core, as i could feel my underwear getting more and more soaked by the second.

i hollowed my cheeks as i swirled my tongue around his tip which sent him over the edge

“ ohh fuck fuck fuck “ he squeezed his eyes shut and bucked up his hips as i felt his warm cum shoot down my throat

i swallowed all of it of course and stuck out my tongue to show him “ good girl “ he praised as he patted my cheek “are you okay?”

“yeah. but now i’m really horny” i huffed, trying to catch my breath

“ you want me to fuck you?” he asks nonchalantly like he wasn’t just face fucking me a second ago

“ please matt “ i tilted my head looking at him

“ cmere. “ he motioned me over with his hand i laid down infront of him, still in my bra and panties

“ take these off for me hm?” i immediately did as told and threw my things to where everything else was

he was now hovering over me and we were making out once again when i felt matt’s hand find its way to my clit

he moved his thumb slowly , adding pressure every second

i moaned into the kiss and i felt him smirk against my lips, my sounds boosting his ego

he placed his other two fingers in between my flaps, running them up and down until he stuck them fully in.

“ shit! “ i yelled due to the pleasure, but i was quick to cover my mouth, remembering the setting we’re in

i moaned into my hand as his fingers moved in and out of my soaking pussy by the second, his rings adding more to the experience.

i felt myself get close and i started to clench around his fingers, which he knew it meant i was about to cum, he all of a sudden removed his fingers as he sucked on them all while looking me in my eyes

he grabbed his dick which was already fully hard again, sliding the tip in between my folds making me wince

“ please matt ..” i choked out, my mind was so clouded i could barley form a full sentence.

“ you ready?” he asked me before i nodded and he shoved himself inside of me, all of him.

i gasped as my mouth fell agape but no sound came out, he leaned down as he thrusted into me leaving kisses on my neck

i dug my nails into his back as i closed my eyes, clinging onto matt for some sort of support

“ fuck mel “ he grunted “ oh shit you feel so good baby” he whined into the crook of my neck

my back arched as i left marks all down matt’s neck as he left marks all over my neck

i paused for a moment and thought about how matt reacted when i had called him prettier earlier, i wondered if he had a praise kink? fuck it let’s see

i flipped us over and he just went with it, not saying anything about it

“ my turn pretty boy “ i joked around, not expecting to earn a reaction from matt

“ oh fuck mel..can you say that again “ he said with eyes closed, his hands on my waist once more

“ why should i?” i teased him and tilted my head

before he could answer i grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me, “ look at me when i’m talking to you”

“s..sorry” he could barley talk. and i liked it.

MATTS POV

i sat there and watched as she fucked herself on my dick like what she called me just now hadn’t driven me insane

the way her tits bounced everytime she would move was perfect. and her dominance was driving me even more crazy.

i loved being dominant, but something about praise and doing as your told when they’re completely destroying you is a different type of satisfaction.

everytime she kissed me, our bare chests would touch as i felt her soft tits rest against my chest

i’ve never been in this much pleasure ever in my life, i didn’t want it to end

END OF MATTS POV

i looked him dead in the eyes as i bounced up and down on his cock, enjoying the faces he was making to try and contain his noises

watching him squirm under me or jolt his hips up whenever he wanted more and i wasn’t going fast enough was everything

pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead because he was sweating and his body felt warm

his eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows were furrowed while his mouth was open, he was a whimpering mess

everytime i would slam myself back down onto his dick, it would hit my g-spot perfectly and he fit so well.

“ your doing so good, fuck your dick is big baby“ i praised as i threw my head back, the sentence earning small moans from him

i felt his cock twitch inside me and that’s when i knew he was close, he muttered out a weak sentence

“ im ..im close” he whined as he looked at me with pleading eyes, waiting for my approval

“ go ahead baby. fill me up” i spoke as i leaned down to kiss him on his neck, while his thrusts grew sloppier by the second

he looked at me before connecting our lips, when i felt his load inside me causing him to moan into the kiss as he jolted his hips forward, now he was in as deep as possible and i loved it

“ you okay?” i asked looking at him, smirking slightly

all he could do was nod his head. slut.

i knew i was close to my release, even though he had just finished and he would be sensitive, he can take it.

i continued my motions, moving up and down along his newly sensitive dick as he whined from the overstimulation

“ fuck melanie i cant..” he looked at me

“ yes you can, and you will.” i looked back at him through the strands of hair that had fallen

he nodded and tried his best to thrust harder but i spoke up, “ no i got it. let me do this for you” i said out of breath

he smiled and relaxed himself as he held my waist

the knot in my stomach was building up and i was about to cum

“ mel “ he spoke in between breaths “ im almost there “ he looked at me with guilt because of how fast he was about to finish

“it’s okay baby im there to, cum with me” i leaned down to kiss him as he came inside me for a second time

the knot in my stomach snapped as i slowed down on his dick, i moaned and had to catch my breath as i checked to see if he was good

i stood up as he pulled out slowly, grabbing his boxers and changing while he admired me as i changed back into my clothes

he sat down as he waited for me to finish changing, resting his head on his hand

“ your fucking beautiful mel “ he said while his eyes scanned my body “and i wanna see you again“ he continued

i giggled and turned around while pulling up my pants, “thanks pretty boy” i sarcastically joked

his face flushed a light pink color making me chuckle before i finished my sentence

“ on a serious note though, i wanna see you again to. i like you” i said while making my way over to matt

“ i like you to” he smiled and wrapped his arm around me as i sat down next to him, leaning my head on his shoulder

summer camp isn’t total shit i guess .

a/n - i lowkey got lazy w this at the end but wtv 🌚. leave suggestions and lmk what yall wanna see next

@liatronn

[nyonyen]

We need something with luther...perhabs breeding?:3 ik it was mentioned on his nsfw alphabet

WITH YOU, DARLING

luther von ivory x f!reader | AO3 | 18+ ᴛᴀɢs: breeding kink, established relationship, fluff + smut, cunnilingus, teasing, improper usage of master/sir (reader isn't a pet), size difference ɴᴏᴛᴇs: meine frau = my wife

The pointe of your shoe begins to trail up and down Luther’s calf. His chest shudders with an intake of air, and he swirls his glass for what seems like the hundredth time since you’ve begun your teasing.

“Are you ever gonna take a sip, Master?” You cock your head, the ghost of a smile playing upon your lips, “Or is something else occupying your mind?”

“You know what you are doing, it seems,” Luther grits his teeth slightly, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re making me… excited, (Y/N).”

Shaking your head, your movements are unrelenting as you speak, “I haven’t a clue what you mean, sir.”

You see his true eyes twitch slightly underneath their red lids, and you have to hold back the delight you feel at this. Without missing a beat, Luther downs the now lukewarm absinthe in one go— sliding his chair from the table with ease. Your foot falls from his leg abruptly.

Stalking towards you with purpose, you look up innocently at his looming form.

“Come with me,” he says, eyes wide as ever, “It would not be appropriate to continue this… conversation, in a family space.”

Not wanting to truly anger him, you don’t hesitate to follow him to his chambers. The hallways seemed to be on edge just as you were, watching the Ivory patriarch silently lead you along. Luther opens the door for you, even a gentleman in this unique predicament.

As soon as the door clicks softly behind him, he corners you into the sickly pink wall, “What was that all about, hm? Trying to get a rise out of me?”

“I heard what you said to Randal last night, sir,” you whisper, your neck struggling to let you look him in the eyes, “Asking him his thoughts on having a little nephew or niece, right?”

Luther’s body seemed to pause at this, as well as your continued usage of honorifics, “That is private business… I didn’t pin you for an impolite eavesdropper.”

“Well,” your hands adjust the collar of his patterned button-down, “I think it is my business, too. I didn’t think Mr. Von Ivory kept such big secrets, even from his dear lover…”

He huffs, affronted by the insinuation, “I was planning to tell you at some point in the future, I would never keep a secret from meine Frau.”

“Ah, ah,” you smile, your index finger tracing his lips as they part, “I’m only your Frau if we consummate properly, dear.”

“You know I adore it when you speak Deutsch to me ♡”

Luther grabs your wrist suddenly, pulling it away— allowing him to embrace you with his cold, but soft, lips. You whimper into it, feeling your body pulling away from the wall into a dance with the tall man.

You couldn’t begin to fathom the taste of him. Of course, there was that strong anise sting of absinthe, fresh on his tongue. However, a metallic edge was present in every kiss, and it had you coming back for more. There was something about it that was inhuman, even if it was just in the way Luther took control of your desperation.

He lowers, sitting on the plush duvet as he pulls you onto his lap— the kiss never-ending. His large hands wrapped around your waist, touching and grabbing nonsensically as he allowed himself to momentarily be victim to his desires. As your hands reached his hair, he pulled away.

Lidded eyes met his slow-to-open lower ones, and you smiled deeply at finally seeing the true him, “There’s my handsome man.”

“You didn’t have to resort to such tactics to garner my attention,” Luther glosses over your compliment, but his eyes blush a deeper shade of red, “I would have been just as eager if you had asked ‘point blank.’”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He finally lets you delve your fingers into his brown locks, the softness always surprising you. It was no wonder, though— you knew that he took pride in his appearance. Luther nuzzles against your cheek, your warmth seeping into his cool porcelain skin. His hands dip under your blouse, something he picked out himself in the Everything Catalogue for its advertised ‘luxurious charmeuse-like quality.’

The silk felt even softer with his touch accompanying it, especially when his hands reached to deftly undo your bra. As you roll your head back in a gentle gasp, he takes the opportunity to nestle against your neck now. He begins to kitten lick at the skin, relishing in the vague saltiness of your excited state. You shrug your bra off slightly, allowing Luther to grasp your breasts. 

“You want me to make you pregnant, hm?” He says, beginning to kiss your neck fully now. “What a mother you’d be ♡”

“I really want it, Luther,” you nod, whispering, “I got so excited when I heard you speaking about it that I almost fell onto poor Nyon… well, it wasn’t my fault he was curled up on the floor again.”

“That’s my ‘little wild card,’” he chuckles deeply, the sound resonating through you both, “Seeing you with my catmen makes me feel something inside, yes… maybe that’s what inspired me.”

You whine as he rolls your nipples between his fingers, the sensation shooting sparks up your spine, “Please!”

“Please what? Use your words, meine Kleine.”

Luther’s fingers pinch you as you whine again, “Please! Just fuck me already, please…”

“Crude, impatient, but how could I resist such a desperate plea?” He hums, his hands reaching underneath you to lift you from his lap as he stands. “We’ll deal with your manners later.”

Far too gone to think about the repercussions of that statement, your face blooms into a smile as he lays you flat on the bed— unbuttoning your blouse, and removing your bra fully. Luther pulls down your skirt, and as you relish in the attention, you think of how every item of clothing you own was purchased by this very man.

“Such cute panties… I can even see how badly you need to be bred.”

You squirm as his reddened eyes gazed at the wettened fabric, pulling them down as well. Humming even deeper, he sees your bare arousal— desperate and wanting. Unabashedly, Luther spreads your thighs apart, allowing him to see how you drip onto the fabric below.

“Messy, messy,” he whispers, his head diving momentarily to plant a chaste kiss directly onto your clit.

A cracked moan exits your throat at the sudden and fleeting pleasure, and your hips buck up pathetically. His hands hold your thighs down, interrupting the movements, “Now, now, you had your fun. I’m in control.”

He relents in his harshness by licking a stripe up your wetness, his long and inhuman tongue able to reach every fold at once. You shiver as he repeats the motions again and again, seemingly for his own desire.

“Please, I…” Your voice sounds unrecognizable as your entire body is tensed, “I can’t wait any longer, Luther.”

He looks up at you with his blank eyes, his cheek resting on one of your thighs as he listens to your pleading. His stare urges you forward, to keep talking.

“Please, sir, I need you.”

His happiness at you using this term is evident in the way his face crinkles ever so slightly— his tight skin was something that you will probably never get used to, “Good girl ♡ Lift your hips for me.”

Kneeling on the bed, Luther helps you to lift your hips before grabbing one of his many pillows to rest underneath you. As you smile at his gentlemanliness, he unbuttons and pulls down his slacks— his undergarments along with it.

“Are you ready, my love?”

You ogle at the size of his length, and the truth is— you weren’t ready, it was impossible to be ready when it came to him. However, being the impatient individual you are, you nod, “Please.”

He knew you were bluffing, how could he be the attentive man he is and not realize this? But, it was better for you to learn your lesson on your own. Luther guides himself towards your increasingly needy arousal and meticulously prepares himself with it. You mewl as his tip drags from your clit to your entrance, all in the name of proper lubrication.

After a final pass, his hardness slowly presses into you, his face unchanging as it hovers over you. Eyes rolling back, you blindly grasp at his chest as he’s sat fully inside. The pain that you knew would come was dulling, being replaced by the most intense pleasure of being filled to the brim.

“There we go ♡ You feel so perfect, so warm for me…”

You nod without a reason, simply wanting him to move even an inch, “Feels so good, so deep, ah!”

Luther pulls out to thrust back in deeply, encouraged by your praise. Your eyes prick with tears from the simple act, his gentle movements still beginning to wrack your body with pleasure. His fingers wrap around your waist as he speeds up incrementally, the touch slightly ticklish in nature. It grounded you as you looked into his primary eyes, the red color flushing as you stared.

“Does it feel right?” He says, voice wavering in your relentless gaze, “Being filled up by me? I can feel your body wanting more.”

“Yes, God, yes,” you bite your lip, trying to hold back a cacophony of noises.

His fingers grip your sides, his sharp nails threatening to dig in, “Let me hear you, let me hear you beg for it.”

“Please, please, oh…” Luther’s thrusts intensify, the purpose of them evident, “I want you to, ah, get me pregnant, please–!”

“That’s right, meine Frau,” one of his hands reaches to caress your abdomen, “I can’t wait to see you so full, so happy ♡”

Your hand covers his on your stomach, and you can feel each thrust even more consciously like this, “I want it so badly…”

“I know you do, I know you need it,” Luther’s red eyes are fully open, a sight that’s rare to see, “I’ll make you all mine, all mine, hm…”

He trails off, another rare occurrence, as his breathing becomes labored. You watch him with wonder in your eyes, that familiar build-up inside of you starting to make itself known. You grip his hand on your body still, the other reaching down to rub your clit with vigor. Seeing him so intense, so determined in this act was heavenly.

“Look at that, so needy. I adore it, pleasure yourself while I cum inside, okay? Be a good girl.”

You nod, and let out a chorus of noises as the angle suddenly changes— Luther’s now hitting your G-spot directly. You moan in tandem with his thrusts, feeling yourself closer and closer to release.

“Please, please, please–!” You throw your head back, sinking into the plush pillows behind, “I’m so close…”

“Be patient, let your master cum inside.”

Luther suddenly presses his entire body against you, pushing your legs nearly flat against the bed as he thrusts wildly. You had never seen him so unbridled, so without care to his appearance— it was the most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced.

“I’ll make sure you’re pregnant, fill you up as deep as I can,” he mutters into your neck, licking and biting fully, “You’ll be the perfect mother to my children ♡”

He rambles on fully into his orgasm, releasing, as promised, deep inside of you. His hips stutter as you clench around him, your own rushing to meet him. With a muffled moan, you tremble into your climax, feeling a distinct sense of wetness flooding your joined lower halves.

Your ragged breath fills the room as the only sound, Luther having stilled almost completely against you. His only sign of life was how he continued to kiss your neck with tired fervor.

The two of you lay there for not long after, and eventually, he separates himself from you slowly. He pulls out gently, making sure not to aggravate your sore body any more than he needs to. His face tightens as he sees some of his release dripping out of you, and without thinking, pushes it back inside with a finger.

As you gasp, he seems to shrink away slightly, “My apologies, darling. I just want to be as thorough as possible, hm?”

You giggle tiredly, nodding. As he walks from the bed to his bathroom for a warm cloth, you smile at how disheveled he looks— hair sticking up in the most unflattering of ways, his shirt wrinkled from your grip. You couldn’t wait to be his Frau.