#I am avoiding updating so I'm making this masterlist
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Neighbor!Simon who can't help but roll his eyes the moment he hears the annoying peppy music play at exactly 9:30 every morning through the paper thin walls.
Though he's already been up for hours he missed being able to enjoy his coffee and newspaper quietly.
Simon hearing the bumping and thudding as you get ready for your day and slamming the door on your way out.
Hearing you every time talk on the phone, laughing loudly and talking a million miles a minute.
You getting excited after the multiple failures to strike up a conversation, he finally tells you his name.
Knowing when you came back home by the smell of your dinner wafting through the air vents. He can't deny it made his stomach ache as he munched on his leftover takeout.
His silent appreciation of how you become silent at a decent hour, seemingly out of respect for the quiet hours of the building.
Holding his breath whenever he opening the doors and whispering a prayer hoping not to run into you again and get held hostage in a thirty minute conversation.
How he has begun to memorize your schedule from the types of sounds resonating from your unit so he could dodge you in the halls.
He had to stop using the apartment gym after learning your enjoyment of the treadmill to blow off steam after a long day
As well as your habit of forgetting your headphones causing you to chatter about nonsense the whole time.
Resorting to running a few blocks around the neighborhood instead.
One day jogging his route and catching you in the corner of his eye, hanging on the arm of some guy, around the corner of the building
The irritation rising in him as he considered the noises he would be hearing tonight.
Coming home and taking a shower. When he shuts off the water he hears more noises from across the wall. He can hear you... crying?
He remains still as he hears you sob in your own bathroom, mumbling incoherently to yourself, followed by a few sniffles then starting the shower.
Him, unable to control the pang of sympathy that tightens his chest.
Starting to feel bad about the constant avoidance he decides to let himself be caught up in your conversation in the hallway.
Going to the gym but only on rainy days, and letting you yap on about your friends and how work was going.
Feeling excited when he recognizes a song through the shared wall. Maybe it wasn't that annoying.
One night hearing more strange noises while he sits reading a book in bed.
He hears a quiet whimpering making him feel bad again as it gradually grows louder.
Realizing the whimpering is not from tears when he can make a distinct word clearly slip through the layers of drywall and paint. separating your bed from his.
"S-simon.."
━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━
A/N: Consider this a 1.5 part to my neighbor!Simon series so far. If this is sloppy I apologize, I am two glasses of wine deep on an empty stomach. I needed to put out something. Simon has been haunting me. Also, I'm sorry part two is taking so long. My mother-in-law has been in town and it's hard to get writing done when there is an extra guest in the house. If you want to be added to a taglist lmk! I believe I am 3/4 done with part two now. <3
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Nonviolent Communication - Part 22
Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: A getaway trip before Christmas with Miguel! ♡ Word Count: 27.6k (back on my shiz, what's new?😔) Warnings: mention of blood and injuries; mentions of Mexican/Latin food, but it's nothing new; the dating allegations are getting harder to deny, I'm afraid; slightly jealous Miguel??!🗣🤭 A/N: hiii, new update! Music Inspo (Spotify playlist): "Carol of the Bells" - John Williams "Better Than Snow" - Norah Jones, Laufey "Where or When" - Laufey "Die With A Smile" - Birru (piano version) "Nocturne (Interlude)" - Laufey Masterlist
Part 22
Snow sticks to the bottom of your shoes as you walk across the snow-covered pavement. The chill bites at your face, making you feel thankful about not forgetting your gloves or else, your fingers would be freezing right now. From somewhere in the city, you hear a clock strike seven times, announcing it's already 7pm. Internally cursing, you speed up to your destination. You could’ve simply traveled straight to the location from Miguel’s universe, but you decided against it to avoid any potential witnesses and now, you’re running a few minutes late.
Pausing at an intersection, you make the spontaneous decision to take a shortcut through an alleyway. If you were any other woman, you'd disapprove of this decision, but since you're Spider-Woman, you take the risk.
You move quickly through it, steering clear of frozen puddles of water under dirty and dimly lit light posts that make the alleyway a perfect place for a naive individual to run into trouble. Halfway across, your spider senses alarm you and a second later, an arm is wrapped around your shoulders.
“Drop all the money and jewelry you have,” a rough voice commands. “No screaming, or else.”
Seriously? You sigh internally. This is the second petty robber you've come across tonight just on your way to the dinner party.
“Did you not hear me? I told you to drop all the money and jewelry you have on you. Now. Don’t make me repeat myself, pretty thing,” the man says, his arm tightening around your body as a warning.
“You're lucky,” you start. “I don't have much time to teach you a proper lesson.”
The man snickers, amused by your words. “What could a thing like you do to me?” he arrogantly asks, that being the last thing he says.
In the blink of an eye, you easily free yourself and push the man against the wall, earning yourself a noise of surprise. You look at the poorly lit light posts and decide that they’ll at least keep your face hidden pretty well, so your identity won't be compromised.
“Now, where were we?” you ask, taking care of the matter. Two minutes later, you walk out of the alleyway and slip your phone back into one of your coat's pockets. You continue walking, police sirens audible in the distance.
It's not until you're about thirty feet away from the building’s entrance that you notice him, Felix Kerr. He's clad in dark clothes from head to toe, blending into the night. You hum to yourself, hoping he didn't see you slip out from the alleyway from a distance, but just in case he did, you relax your face and wear an expression of innocence and ignorance to the situation as you walk closer to the building's door.
“Madam,” Kerr says as a form of greeting, breaking the silence.
“Mr. Kerr,” you reply with a nod.
“Are you alright?” Kerr asks, pushing himself off a car — Harry’s — and stepping closer. His wide shoulders are covered in flakes of snow, making you wonder how long he's been outside in the cold and why.
“I am, thank you.”
“Allow me to walk you inside,” he says, gesturing to the double doors of the tall building. Before you even respond, he’s already moving towards the doors, expecting you to follow.
Silently, you follow and enter the building while he holds the door for you. Inside, you're both greeted by warmth, a sharp contrast to the coldness outside. Once you reach one of the elevators, Kerr steps aside to allow you in first.
“Ladies first,” he mutters.
Inside, Kerr presses a button and the doors close. You find yourselves, standing across from each other, leaning into the elevator's walls in silence, minus the elevator’s sound system announcing each floor level, for several seconds.
“You're lucky,” Kerr starts, breaking the silence.
“Pardon?” you respond, turning to look at him in the face.
“A petty robber was reported in that alleyway minutes before you stepped out from it. You're lucky Spider-Woman got him before you ran into him.”
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. How the hell does he know about that? Quickly, you use your genuine surprise to hide the reality, however.
“There was a petty robber there?” you ask, lifting a hand to your chest to pretend to be shocked and frightened by the news. “I did hear noises, but the alleyway is so poorly lit, I didn't see anyone. I assumed it was coming from the other side of the street. Oh, my goodness,” you mumble, looking down. “My landlord stopped me on my way out of the building to discuss something. It's why I'm running late. Had I been on time, I might have ran into them,” you lie. “Who knows what could've happened.” You sigh in relief and lift your face to look at Kerr again, who is observing you with a frown on his face.
“I’m glad you missed them, madam,” he replies. “Thankfully, Spider-Woman got there before you did.”
“Agreed,” you answer, pushing your hands into your pockets and turning to look at the digital display that reads the floor number. You clear your throat. “How did you find out so soon, sir?” you ask, turning to look at Kerr again.
At that, the older man gives you a small grin. “I used to be a police officer. My coworkers and I remain in touch, especially since I’m somewhat of a bodyguard for Mr. Harry. As soon as the call was reported, someone notified me since they know I’m in the area with him. I suppose they figured I could take action if needed before they arrived.”
“Oh, that’s… Great,” you answer, offering a small smile. You turn to look at the display again, feeling off not by the fact that Kerr is an ex-police officer, but because it seems that he’s still somewhat in touch with the police department, as if he were still active. Silently, you wonder if it’s illegal and also, if you’ve ever come across him in the past as Spider-Woman, but you cannot remember ever seeing him before that day you ran into Harry for the very first time in years.
“We’re here,” Kerr says just as the elevator doors open. “Ladies first.”
Thanking Kerr, you step into the fifth floor of the building. Christmas music, laughter, and conversations immediately reach your ears, reminding you that this is a Christmas work party Harry invited you to, even though you’re not an employee. He initially asked you about meeting on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, but you had to decline because you already have plans — plans that involve traveling to another destination with Miguel and part of the spider gang tomorrow.
Unfortunately, scheduling a dinner between Christmas and New Year’s isn’t possible because Harry is highly busy with work and will also be traveling out of the country with his father the day after Christmas. Still, Harry insisted he’d like to celebrate a bit with you, even if it meant you attending his father’s work Christmas party, and now you’re here.
In truth, you wish you were home by the fireplace with a cozy book and café de olla [coffee] with Miguel sitting across from you, both wearing pajamas or lounge clothes. Instead, you’re here in this room full of strangers.
“Mr. Harry is this way,” Kerr says, tearing you away even from the mental image of being home with Miguel.
You almost sigh in displeasure, but stop yourself from doing so. Following Kerr, you move past a few people before you’re in front of the man who once used to be a close friend. Seeing Harry’s face, you’re reminded of the awkward moment you both shared last month when he went straight for a hug while you offered a handshake. This time, thankfully, Harry holds back from instantly going for that and instead, he smiles at you and places his hand on your shoulder to greet you.
“You’ve arrived! I was wondering if you had forgotten,” Harry states, a hint of worry in his tone.
“No way,” you answer with a smile. “I was just a little late, I’m sorry.”
“Did something happen?” Harry asks, concerned.
“No, thankfully not,” you answer, reassuring him.
“Miss Y/N barely missed an encounter with a criminal, sir,” Kerr states, gently inserting himself into the conversation.
Harry’s eyes go wide before his gaze sweeps over you. “Oh, God. Are you okay?” he asks, placing his hands on both your shoulders to inspect you. “Are you hurt? Scared?”
“I’m alright, Harry,” you answer, slightly annoyed by Kerr. “I didn’t even see the person. I missed them completely.”
“Thank God,” Harry breathes out. “I’m so glad to hear that. Come on, let’s get you something to eat and drink. Thank you, Felix.” With that, Harry guides you away.
After two hours of conversing, eating, and drinking, Harry helps you slip on your coat when you inform him that you’re heading out. Insisting on walking with you, Harry guides you out after you thank his father and wish him well for the holidays and their trip.
“Please allow Felix to drive you home,” Harry says in the elevator, suddenly.
“What? No, no, that’s not necessary.”
“I can’t allow you to walk home alone this late. Much less when you hardly missed a criminal earlier. I’d drive you myself, but I must see everyone away.”
“It’s fine, Harry, seriously,” you insist.
“Please. I’ll be worried the entire time until you reach home,” Harry states, taking your arm and holding it. “You’ll be home sooner, too. Out of this cold weather.”
Sighing, you agree. “Alright, alright. If it’s not a bother.”
“Of course not. I’ll be relieved knowing you’re safe. And, Felix is free,” he answers before you both move towards his car. “Felix. Please drive Y/N home.”
“Yes, sir,” Kerr replies, moving quickly to open the backdoor on the passenger’s side. He looks between you both, waiting.
Harry smiles, his hand sliding down your coat. “Thank you for coming tonight. I’m glad we got to celebrate and enjoy a bit of the Christmas season together, even if it was through a work party. I wish we could’ve had dinner, but perhaps we can do something once the new year starts, and we’re both free.”
“That sounds wonderful. Once you’re back from your trip, we can discuss it,” you reply with a smile. “By the way, have a safe trip, okay? And, try to enjoy the holidays with Mr. Osborn.”
Harry laughs softly and nods. “I will. I try to appreciate every moment with my dad as much as possible, being the only parent I have left. We’ll make time to celebrate the holidays properly, for sure.”
“Good,” you answer, slipping into the car. “I’ll see you soon, then?”
“See you soon,” Harry answers, looking down at you. “Happy Holidays!”
“Happy Holidays!” you cheerfully reply before Harry steps back and Kerr closes the door. After waving goodbye and buckling your seat, Kerr begins the drive to your home.
Quiet Christmas music plays from the radio, filling a silence for several minutes. You find yourself staring out the window, counting the seconds until you’re home and done with this car ride, which feels awkward for some reason.
“Excited for the holidays, madam?”
You blink in surprise, not expecting the man to make small conversation. “… Yes… Yes, I’m excited,” you start softly. “What about you, sir?”
“Hm… Yes.”
You nod, despite the fact that he probably can’t see you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you reply before a short silence follows.
“Will you be doing some traveling, madam?” Kerr asks, continuing the small conversation.
With pursed lips, you decide not to fully share your plans. Better safe than sorry. “No traveling, just going to other people’s homes for the celebrations,” you share. “Small gatherings.”
“I see,” Kerr replies as he makes a turn.
You glance out the window before deciding it would be bad manners if you don’t ask about his plans. “What about you? Are you traveling with your family, or staying home?”
It takes several seconds for Kerr to reply, as if he’s deeply pondering your question, and you almost swear he looks at you through the rear view mirror for a second before he finally replies. “I’ll be traveling with Mr. Harry and Mr. Osborn.” Kerr pauses, letting that sink in. “I don’t have any family.”
“Oh,” you respond in a hushed tone, understanding that feeling very well from when you were alone before joining the Spider Society.
“Not anymore,” Kerr continues quietly as he pulls to the side of the street, in front of your building. He clears his throat, unbuckles his seat, and gets down in seconds.
Despite Kerr’s startling revelation that he no longer has a family, you quickly unbuckle your seat when you see how fast he gets out of the car. A second later, your door opens and Kerr is there, offering his hand to help you out. To avoid being rude, you accept the gesture and step out of the car. Shivering slightly now that you’re back in the cold weather, you quickly thank Kerr for helping you out and for the ride.
“No problem, madam. I’m simply doing my job,” Kerr replies, taking a step back. “I’ll let Mr. Harry know that you made it home safely.”
“Thank you. Have a good night, and… I hope you enjoy the holidays,” you gently say, taking several steps backwards, towards your building’s entrance. “And, be safe.”
“Thank you. I hope you and your friends enjoy the holidays, too. Take care,” Kerr says with a nod, seemingly unbothered by the cold.
With a final nod, you walk towards your entrance, feeling a heavy gaze all the way to the door. As you open, you dare to glance back, finding Kerr in the same spot and watching you, probably to ensure you truly make it home safely, or maybe because Harry asked him to.
Inside your apartment, you turn the lights on and do a quick check around your space. You fluff the couch pillows and refold the blanket over your couch, wasting time. Humming, you turn to the art work on your wall and stare at it before you turn away and check your gizmo. After a few seconds of reading random messages from your friends, you subtly check the window to ensure that Kerr is gone. Satisfied when you don't see the car anywhere in sight, you open a multidimensional portal and finally, **travel back to Nueva York.
You step into the penthouse, specifically the living room, where you find the fireplace roaring with gentle flames. Above it, a fluffy and big green garland with ribbon, ornaments, twinkling lights, and other Christmas decorations adorns the fireplace mantle.
"Dulzura? Are you home?" Miguel calls out from the kitchen.
"I'm home!" you answer with a smile upon hearing his voice. You quickly slip your coat off just as Miguel enters the living room, looking incredibly cozy and warm in a white cable knit sweater while carrying a tray with two mugs on it.
With a warm smile and pink cheeks due to the penthouse’s warmth, Miguel happily welcomes you back home. "How did it go?" Miguel asks, handing you a mug.
"Mmm, it smells so good," you murmur with a smile, lifting the mug closer to smell the freshly made Abuelita hot chocolate Miguel promised to have ready for your return [a hot chocolate brand]. "It went well. It was a work party, so I talked with a few strangers, but for the most part, I talked with Harry and his dad."
"I'm glad to hear it went well. Sounds like it went smoother than the previous time you met with him," Miguel replies, placing the tray on the coffee table.
You smile sheepishly, remembering the embarrassing and awkward moment with Harry and his attempt to hug you on Día de Los Muertos for the second time tonight [Day of the Dead]. You sigh in relief that that didn't happen again, or something of the sort. "Don't remind me. I'm getting embarrassed again just thinking about it, but thankfully, nothing like that happened. It went smoothly. I was just a little late because of petty crimes."
"What happened?" Miguel asks, worry instantly flashing in his eyes despite the fact that you’re Spider-Woman. Still, you get a fuzzy feeling inside seeing Miguel so concerned over you.
“Just two men trying to rob money and jewelry. I took care of them, no worries,” you answer, reassuring Miguel “How’s the packing?” you ask before taking the smallest sip from the hot chocolate to avoid burning yourself.
“My bag is ready. Yours?”
“I have a few things I still need to pack, but I’m pretty much done! I’ll pack them before I go to sleep. So, packing the groceries is the only thing we have left to do?” you ask, watching Miguel take a seat on the couch, the one you always sit on. You make note of that, how he opted to sit there instead of the couch he always sits on, on top of the fact that he’s leaving your specific spot open. You can’t help but interpret it as a silent invitation for you to take your spot, next to him, so you do.
“Yep, the groceries are the only things we’ll need to pack tomorrow. Other than that, we’re set,” Miguel answers before gently blowing on his mug. “Shock.” Miguel gets up, placing his mug on the coffee table. “I forgot the pan dulce [Mexican pastries].” Miguel almost facepalms at his forgetfulness. He was so happy about you returning already that he forgot about the damn pan dulce. A few seconds later, Miguel returns to the living room with a plate that contains a few pieces of the sweet pastries, neatly arranged. “Here we go!”
Miguel joins you once again on the couch, now with pan dulce to go with the hot chocolate. You both indulge, happy and relieved to be back in each other’s presence while basking in the cozy vibes from the penthouse thanks to the Christmas decorations you both put together; from the garland on the fireplace mantle to the Christmas tree. Drinking hot chocolate, you admire it.
It’s a tall and fluffy artificial tree — not holographic like previous years. Smiling to yourself, you remember how at the end of November, Miguel and you put it together along with the holographic one in the dining area and the one at your apartment. You enjoyed setting up each one, but this one… It has a special place in your heart.
It was Miguel who brought up the topic the day after Thanksgiving. Unlike the previous year, when you both brought up plans for Thanksgiving dinner barely a few days before the holiday, Miguel and you discussed it with plenty of time this year. It may have seemed silly, considering you spend so much time with each other already, to think that you wouldn’t spend Thanksgiving day together, but still, you both brought it up to confirm.
Of course, the answer was yes; you wanted to have dinner together for the holiday again. It resulted in the two of you cooking and inviting the spider gang to join you, hoping that some of them could join.
In the end, a majority of the spider gang made it, along with a very pregnant Mary Jane, Mayday, and Gayatri. With such delicious food and great company, the dinner extended longer than either Miguel or you anticipated, but neither of you minded. The next day, after waking up much later than you’re both used to and having a much needed mug with coffee, Miguel brought it up. He asked if you wanted to help him set up the Christmas tree.
You agreed, expecting it to be the holographic tree with holographic ornaments, but no. An hour later, Miguel came back from downstairs carrying a large box. The surprise must have been evident on your face because he grinned at you before he placed the box down in the living room floor.
“¿Qué [what?]? Did you forget what I told you about Christmas trees on Earth-928? We do have artificial trees, you know,” he said, still grinning.
You grinned back before he headed back downstairs to retrieve the decorations, thinking to himself that you must have forgotten what he told you in the past regarding trees for the holidays, but it wasn’t that. You didn’t forget what Miguel told you; about how most families have holographic trees on this Earth and that they have an app to design their ornaments together, making it a family tradition. Nor did you forget the fact that some individuals or families have artificial trees and some even live ones, but that only the wealthiest tend to go for the latter.
You remember thinking that you knew Miguel had money, more than plenty, since he lives in this penthouse and keeps up with the Spider Society’s headquarters. Along with that, you recalled thinking you expected Miguel to own an artificial tree, but that it was likely he didn't put it up because he hadn't celebrated the holidays in recent years. Since you’ve only ever seen a holographic tree in his home, Miguel must have thought you forgot the information he gave you because of your surprise, but it wasn’t that.
Your surprise wasn’t due to seeing an artificial Christmas tree on this Earth, but rather because Miguel actually brought out his. That was the reason for your surprise; that Miguel felt like putting a physical tree up, and on top of that, with you.
Perhaps it was silly, but as the two of you assembled the tree and fluffed the branches before decorating it while lively and joyous holiday music came from the record player, you couldn’t help but consider it as yet another step forward for Miguel.
It was hard not to when you noted the smile on his face while he added beautiful ornaments to the top of the tree where you couldn’t reach, something he teased you about. Ornaments, bows, and other small decorations were added to the tree and when you thought it was all done and ready to lit up, Miguel disappeared upstairs.
He came back shortly with a bag, wearing a sheepish expression on his face. You didn’t know why, but you had a feeling it had to do with what was inside the bag, and you were right.
Inside the bag were clear, see through ornaments to be decorated along with supplies for such activity. Still looking sheepish, Miguel explained that DIY ornaments are also a thing in his dimension.
“And, I thought — I was thinking — you know,” Miguel said, his cheeks feeling warm while trying to relay the purpose of him buying those supplies. “If you want, which you don’t have to,” he continued, scratching his neck out of shyness. “That we could make some?”
You chuckled sweetly and walked past him. “You’re so cute when you’re nervous,” you murmured before you took a seat on the floor and picked up a clear ornament.
“I’m wha — cute?” Miguel asked, so flabbergasted that the words were barely a whisper. He watched you with wide eyes and even redder cheeks while you looked through the supplies with much excitement, he wondered why he was even nervous about asking you. Meanwhile, his brain was struggling to process the fact that you called him ‘cute’. A few seconds later, he pulled it together and joined your side, clearing his throat and hoping that you hadn’t notice any of that because in the moment, Miguel couldn’t even understand why your simple and short statement was affecting him so much.
In the end, the activity gave you something fun to do together and once completed, the ornaments were hanged on the tree not far from each other — as if neither of you could handle even your ornaments being too far apart from the other.
Now, your gaze falls on those ornaments, hanging so beautifully from the lit tree. A few branches below those, hangs another one that catches your attention. It turns out there are highly small projectors, small enough to fit inside a regular-size ornament, available on this Earth, and now, there’s that ornament displaying pictures of Miguel and you throughout the year.
Musing on the tree, Miguel drinks hot chocolate from his mug while your eyes move around the rest of the living room. After the Christmas tree, Miguel brought out other decorations, which resulted in the garland over the fireplace mantle, poinsettias on the coffee table, Christmas lights lining the windows, blankets on the couches paired with decorative pillows in winter colors, and other decorations, including a stocking for each of you with your names embroidered on them. The penthouse has never looked this cozier, that’s for sure. It’s the reason why Miguel and you decided to only spend the weekend away and return the day before Christmas Eve to the penthouse again; neither of you wished to be away from home for Christmas.
-♡-
The next morning, the groceries are packed away and everything from ensuring that the doors are locked to the air conditioner being set the way it needs to is checked before you both head out. With the help of the gizmos, Miguel and you arrive to the location in seconds, where you’re both welcomed by a cold breeze and the crunch of snow beneath your shoes.
Standing side by side, Miguel and you take in the view. The cabin, a single floor space, sits right in front of you. It’s surrounded by tall, majestic trees that seem to be hundreds of years old. The front of it is aesthetically decorated with rounded bushes covered in snow. In fact, almost everything in front of you is covered by snow except for a single path leading up to the cabin’s door. On one side, there’s logs ready to be used for a fireplace and on the other end, wooden chairs surround a fire pit.
“Looks cozy,” you state at last, looking around and realizing your cabin is far away from the rest were members of the spider gang should be staying at.
“It does. I like the pine trees,” Miguel says with a soft smile. “Should we head in?”
“Yes!”
After finding the key under the door mat, Miguel and you enter the cabin, completely missing the cabin’s name found above the door on a metal plaque —Lover’s Cabin.
Once inside, the two of you look around with interest and drinking in the coziness from the warm tones and Christmas decorations, including a Christmas tree, in the living room. You move to check the kitchen, finding it cozy and quaint. After putting the groceries away and becoming acquainted with the kitchen, you finally inspect the bedrooms to select one for your stay.
“You can have this room,” you say after a second or two when you realize the last room is the master’s bedroom since there’s a king size bed and has an en suite bathroom.
“Why?” Miguel asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Bigger bed,” you simply state, as if that alone should make sense. Noticing his raised eyebrow, you continue. “You’re a tall man.”
Miguel snorts, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on the doorway. “So, just because of my height?”
“Yep! I’ll take the other room, alright?”
“Are you sure?” Miguel asks.
“I’m sure. I’m going to unpack now,” you announce. “And then, we can… Unwind for a little before we do other stuff.”
“No rush. We can figure it out once we unpack, Dulzura,” Miguel replies gently, gazing at you with nothing short of an adoring gaze, even without realizing so.
“Right,” you answer with a smile. “This is meant to be relaxing.”
“And, a bit spontaneous,” Miguel adds, his hand suddenly itching to rest on your shoulder as a form of reassurance. Just when he lifts his hand, however, you walk back to the first bedroom, leaving his hand hanging.
“Alright, let’s unpack,” you eagerly say as you walk away. You glance at him with a smile before you enter your bedroom, unaware of how close Miguel was to making physical contact.
With a quiet yet defeated sigh, Miguel enters his own room carrying his luggage. He unpacks his personal hygiene items first, placing the items in the bathroom, before unpacking his clothes and placing them in the empty dresser. He walks around once he’s done as an attempt to get acquainted with the room and to ensure the windows are locked. At last, he turns to the bed and runs his hand over the bedding, finding it soft. He presses a hand into the mattress, trying to see if it’s going to be comfortable or not just as you walk into the room, missing a slight noise the base and headboard made when he pressed down.
“All unpacked?” Miguel asks straightening up, satisfied with the mattress.
“Yes. You?”
“Same. I was just checking the bedding, making sure it’s comfortable,” he says walking closer to you. “Is everything okay with your room? No issues? We can switch, if you want.”
You shake your head with a smile. “No issues. Everything is fine, so no need to switch on my behalf. You?”
“The room is great,” Miguel answers with a smile, glad to hear that you’ve found your room satisfactory. “So… We're here now. Our little Christmas getaway begins now.”
The vacation begins by settling down in the cozy living room. Miguel starts the fireplace, blankets are unfolded, and books, which you both brought along with you, are taken out. You both settle on a different couch, which you both find much smaller than the ones back at the penthouse, to read for a while. Eventually, you both grow hungry and decide to make brunch in the cabin’s kitchen.
“Do you want to go out? Head to the village?” Miguel asks once you’re both done eating and cleaning the kitchen.
Humming, you look around, thinking. “If you’d like to. Unless you want to do something else and check out the village tomorrow since we’ll be taking Mayday anyway.”
“That’s true,” Miguel answers, remembering that you both offered to look after her to give Peter and Mary Jane a little break, for lack of a better word, since they have a newborn at home and also, to give Mayday a chance to be out of the house, considering Mary Jane is recovering and Peter is taking care of her, while they both look after the baby. “There’s a little bookshop, coffee shop, and an ice skating rink just outside the village — it’s kind of separated from it by a small forest.” Miguel shrugs, smiling softly. “What do you think about a coffee and a visit to the book shop?”
“You know what? That sounds better than snow,” you answer with an excited smile. “You want to head out now?”
“If you’re up for it,” Miguel replies.
“Give me five minutes, please, and we can be on our way!”
“Take your time,” Miguel says, finding your excitement contagious and endearing. “No rush. Today, we’re being spontaneous.”
“Spontaneous,” you repeat. “We’re going with the flow.”
Miguel laughs softly and nods. “We’re going with the flow for this trip.”
After quickly getting ready and dressing appropriately for the weather, Miguel and you leave the cabin and walk on foot to the small area he suggested. The walk is a short one despite the snow and it grants you both a moment of tranquility and fresh air. You even spot squirrels scurrying away with their mouths full, carrying food to their small and cozy homes within trees. When you reach the small area at last, you pause and admire it, guessing that it’s only a small teaser of what the village has in store for you tomorrow.
The first stop is at the welcoming and warm coffee shop, where Miguel, always the gentleman, buys coffee and warm pastries for the two of you. You get on to him for always treating you to things and hardly giving you opportunities to reciprocate, which he chuckles about as you walk to the book shop. Amused with your little frown, he tells you not to worry about it.
Once at the book shop, the two of you browse every shelf high and low for an interesting book to take home with you. By the end of your search throughout the entire shop, you head to pay with Miguel, who carries the shopping basket for the two of you. And of course, Miguel pays before you get a chance to.
“That was a successful book shopping trip,” Miguel states softly once you exit the shop, carrying a reusable bag with everything that you both picked up.
“They had a lot of great options. I’m excited to read every book I picked. You?”
“Same. I got a few sci-fi books, and the others are in genres I don’t read much. I figured I’d give them a try,” Miguel answers as you walk past the ice skating rink. Still walking, Miguel glances back at the sign announcing the entrance and fee. “Would you like to — To go ice skating?” he asks suddenly, making you stop in your tracks.
“Ice skate?” you repeat, glancing at the entrance and reading the sign. You bite the inside of your cheek and turn to look at Miguel again. “I…” you trail off, nervously.
“We don’t have to,” Miguel says, immediately noticing your reluctance. “I simply noticed the sign and thought it sounded fun. I haven’t gone ice skating in forever, but it’s silly. Plus, it’s going to get dark soon and we have the bonfire with our friends, so —” Miguel continues, but is interrupted by you.
“I don’t know how to ice skate,” you gently confess with a bit of embarrassment. “It’s not silly at all. It actually does sound like a lot of fun, but I don’t know how to skate. I always wanted to try it out, but… It’s one of those things that you never make time for.” You smile sheepishly at Miguel. “So, yeah… But! I can watch you! I’d still find it enjoyable to watch.”
“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it,” Miguel answers softly, understanding. “We can go back to the cabin and unwind before the bonfire instead.”
“Please. It sounded like you really want to. Don’t stop on my behalf,” you insist with a smile. “I’d be more than happy to watch you. Maybe I’ll even get inspiration and try to learn as a new year’s resolution.”
Miguel chuckles before he sighs. He glances at the sign and then back at you. “You sure?”
“One hundred percent. Come on,” you say, leading the way.
Inside, Miguel heads to the ticket area to pay and get a pair of skates. While he does that, you settle down on a bench facing the ice rink, excited to see Miguel skate and have fun. A minute or two later, Miguel is at your side again, holding a pair of skates that look far too little for him. Just as you’re about to inquire about that, he kneels in front of you and it’s only then that you realize he’s already wearing a pair.
“Wait — Miguel?” you ask, looking at him a little confused.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Miguel starts, looking at you. “I went ahead and bought a ticket for you, too.”
“But, I don’t know how to skate,” you remind him softly, amused.
“But, I do,” Miguel answers with a soft smirk. “And you said, that by watching me, maybe you’d get inspired to learn, so I thought… Why not start now? If you’re okay with it, of course! I’m not pressuring you, just offering. I’ll guide you.”
Quietly exhaling, you glance at the ice and find it slightly intimidating.
“Hey,” Miguel starts, trying to get your attention again. “It can be a little scary at first, but after a few minutes, you get a little used to it. You just need a guiding and helping hand.”
Smiling, you nod. “Right. It’s like everything else… I… Okay,” you answer, nodding more to yourself for encouragement. “Alright. I’ll try it out.”
“Good, I’m happy to hear that,” Miguel answers with a grin before he gestures to your shoes. “I’ll help you put your skates on.”
“Wha- That’s not necessary! I can put them on myself.”
“It’s no problem, plus,” Miguel says as he begins to fix the shoe laces on the skates while you slip off your shoes. “I tie them in a specific way to ensure they’re truly secure. Sometimes they feel a little loose and tying them the right way makes a big difference.” With that, Miguel helps you put the skates on, despite your shyness about it.
He carefully ties the first one, concentrated on the task while you sit on the bench.
“How come you don’t do that for me?” a woman mumbles behind you from somewhere.
“That’s marriage level,” a man answers.
Curious, you glance back and spot a young couple walk by, exiting the skating rink. You hum to yourself, unsure what the couple were talking about.
“All done,” Miguel says with a smile.
“Thank you,” you answer, looking at the skates now on your feet. You glance up at him, a nervous look on your face. “I suppose… We go now?”
With a grin, Miguel nods. “If you’re ready. Or, we can take a few minutes if you need them. No rush,” he firmly states. “At your own pace.”
You sigh softly, mentally preparing yourself before you nod. “Let’s do this.”
“Are you sure? If you need a few more minutes, that’s more than okay.”
“I think I’m ready,” you insist. “Can we just… Stick to the edge, so I can hold on to the boards?”
Miguel smiles and nods. “Of course. Whatever is more comfortable for you. Ready?” he asks, standing up and extending a hand to you.
You look at him and then at his hand, truly noticing for the first time that he’s wearing the gloves you gifted him the previous year for Christmas. The sight brings a small smile to your face before you accept his hand with your own gloved one, standing up.
“Ready, I think,” you answer, trying to stand very still. “Okay,” you breathe out, unused to the feeling.
“Step like this, look,” Miguel gently guides, demonstrating for you while still holding your hand.
With his demonstration, you slowly but surely make it to the actual ice rink without falling. Miguel, ever the patient man with you, continues to guide you.
“Some people try to walk,” Miguel says. “But skating isn’t like walking because you’re not walking. You’re gliding on the ice. To get the feel, you need to start off by gently marching.” Still holding your gloved hand, Miguel marches, staying near you. “Like this, see?”
“Mhm. I can tell already that you’re — like, pre-gliding.”
Miguel chuckles. “Pre-gliding, that’s right. Okay, do you want to try now?”
You huff softly, out of nerves, and nod. “Yes. Marching, right,” you mumble more to yourself than him. Despite Miguel holding your hand, you still hold on to the boards. “March, march, march,” you whisper, moving your feet. “If I fall, I’m going to try very hard not to use my webs to help myself.” You state, marching shakily.
“I won’t let you fall,” Miguel states with a soft smile. “I’ll catch you. You trust me, right?”
“Yes, of course. I trust you. It’s me I don’t trust in this situation,” you answer. “I feel like I’m one second away from one of my feet gliding a little too far and then, falling on my butt.”
“You won’t fall,” Miguel assures you again, squeezing your hand and surprising you in the process because of it. “I’ll catch you however many times I must. I promise.” He grins at you before he continues on with his lesson. “However, I should probably teach you how to correctly get on the ground if needed, and how to get up again. Safely.”
After showing you those things and having you practice everything he’s taught you, Miguel then shows you how to ‘kick’ your feet off the ice to properly skate. When you successfully skate about fifteen feet or so, Miguel congratulates you.
“Great job! You’re doing amazing, Dulzura,” he proudly says, still holding your hand. “It took me far longer to get used to the gliding, but you — You’re already so much more comfortable with it.”
“Thank you! Your patience and guidance made it possible. I’m no longer as nervous as before. I see why people enjoy this,” you answer. Grinning, you slowly let go of the boards.
“There we go,” Miguel whispers, noticing that you’ve let go and you’re now only holding on to him. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this new experience. It’s a fun activity, and you can even learn tricks when you get more experience.”
“Do you know tricks?” you ask Miguel.
“Mm… Not really. Just spinning around, but it’s been a long time since I’ve skated. I probably can’t even do that now,” he answers with an amused smile. “Plus, I won’t let go of you now that you’ve let go of the boards. Maybe in the future. For now, lets try to circle around the rink — get you more comfortable.”
Continuing to apply what Miguel taught you, you grow more and more comfortable and manage to complete one full lap of gliding around the rink.
“I think… I’d like to try on my own,” you announce when you skate, still slowly, past the rink’s entrance.
“Alright, I’ll loosen my hand, and you can release mine when you’re ready,” Miguel responds, trying to make everything confortable and safe for you. He slowly loosens his grip on your hand and a few seconds later, he feels your hand slip away. With much pride, Miguel watches you skate on your own for the very first time.
“I’m doing it,” you say with a smile as you move. “I’m actually doing it, Miguel.”
“You are.” Miguel answers with a smile. “You’re doing so well,” he continues, keeping up with you and remaining alert, just in case.
You giggle softly and kick your feet a little harder, trying to gain a little more speed.
Unable to stop himself from smiling, Miguel speeds up just a tad to keep up. He watches in awe as you move, the sound of your giggling kindling a fluttering in Miguel’s chest.
“I think I’d like to keep practicing in the future,” you say, looking up at him for a moment. Unfortunately, looking at Miguel distracts you, eliciting a loud gasp from yourself as you feel your foot move in a way it shouldn’t. The sense of falling is barely registered by your brain when strong hands take your arms and hold you steady.
“Tranquila [relax; feminine noun],” Miguel gently mutters, holding you. He helps you straighten up first, trying to make the near accident as calm and smooth as possible. “You’re not falling, remember?” He continues with a small smile as you sigh in relief.
“Yes. You’re not letting me fall,” you answer, your shoulders relaxing slightly after growing tense. You exhale again and gather yourself. “I’m sorry. I got distracted looking at you.”
“Hey, no reason to apologize. Small accidents are going to happen,” Miguel reminds you. “Even those with years under their belt have hiccups.”
You chuckle. “Thank you — for the lesson and for catching me.”
Miguel’s gaze softens as he gazes at you, his hands releasing your arms. “Always,” he answers, wholeheartedly, before his hand moves to yours. “Do you want to do another round? Maybe this time faster?”
“Faster?”
“I'll hold both your hands,” Miguel assures. “And you can experience skating with a little more speed. Only if you're open to it, of course.”
You hum and look around the rink before nodding with a smile. “I'd like that.”
“Hold on tight,” Miguel instructs, offering his other hand and standing in front of you. Once you're holding hands, he begins to skate backwards with ease. “You're doing great.” Miguel praises as you simultaneously follow and allow him to lead, moving your feet. “We're gonna pick up speed now,” he informs to avoid startling you.
“Alright, alright,” you answer, bracing yourself for a different pace, but Miguel does it so carefully that you hardly feel the transition. “Hey, this isn’t so bad!”
Miguel grins, guiding the two of you around the rink. He continues to skate, gently tugging you along. “Having fun?”
“Yes!” You answer, chuckling.
The two of you continue to skate, moving along the ice rink laughing and talking, unaware of strangers’ gazes. The innocent bystanders stop and watch, the sight of you alluding to an intimate, warm, and beautiful romantic connection; the kind that millions and millions of people across the vast multiverse can only ever dream about and wish for.
At last, the two of you reach the entrance, feeling like that round went by much faster than it should’ve.
“Do you wish to keep practicing, or would you like a break? Or, go back to the cabin?” Miguel asks.
“Hmm… How are you feeling?”
“I personally… Would be okay if we return to the cabin, but what about you?”
“Me, too,” you say, moving your feet a bit to ease some tension in them. “I’m kind of tired of wearing the skates.”
“Understandable,” Miguel answers. “Come on, I’ll help you get off the ice rink.”
Along with helping you get out of the ice, Miguel also helps you remove your skates, despite your refusal out of embarrassment, before he returns both pairs. A few minutes later, you’re back on your way to the cabin.
“That was a lot of fun,” Miguel softly starts after a few minutes of silence. “Thank you for indulging me by joining me. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.” Miguel looks at you, carrying the tote bag with books.
“Are you kidding? I loved it!” Smiling, you eagerly continue. “After my initial nervousness, you helped me get over it and simply enjoy the learning experience. For some reason, I thought it was going to be scarier. Maybe that’s why I never actually tried it in the past. I can’t remember if I ever even told Peter that I’d like to learn,” you say, silently trying to remember if there was ever a time you shared that with your boyfriend. “Either way, I loved it. Thank you for suggesting it in the first place, and for teaching me.”
“Always,” Miguel answers with a sweet smile on his face, more than happy that you enjoyed it as much as he did despite how random it was.
“Hey! What are you guys up to?!”
The sudden number of voices startle you both, directing your attention towards them. Hobie, Pav, Margo, Noir, and Penny wave at the two of you.
“Heading back to the cabin!” Miguel answers once he realizes it’s them.
“We’re having a bonfire! Wanna come?!” Hobie yells.
“When?!” you ask.
“… Now!” they all reply, waving you over.
“Are you up for a bonfire?” you ask Miguel, turning to look at him.
“We have marshmallows! Andddddd hot dogs!” another voice says in a singsong voice. Peter Porker.
“Are you interested?” Miguel asks.
“Roasted marshmallows. That’s something I haven’t had in a long, long time.”
“Well, how can we say no to that, then?” Miguel answers with a grin.
“Are you in, or not?!” the group yells.
“We’re in!” Miguel and you yell back in unison.
Half an hour later, Miguel and you sit next to each other toasting marshmallows with mini chocolate bars and graham crackers to make s’mores.
“Dang, how much longer are you guys toasting your marshmallows?” Gwen asks, looking at both of you. “It looks like your marshmallows are going to be burnt.”
“I like mine toasty,” Miguel answers.
“Me, too,” you reply. “Another minute, or two.”
“I think those are beyond toasty,” Gwen responds, but Miguel and you shrug and continue on.
Two minutes later, you’re both assembling your s’mores at last.
“Just perfect,” you mumble, gently squeezing the sandwich and watching the chocolate drizzle down the marshmallow.
After taking a bite, Miguel hums in approval. “It’s great. Nice little dessert after skating.”
“Agree. An unexpected dessert, but so, so good,” you answer.
“You guys went skating?” Hobie asks.
“Mhm,” you hum, eating your s’more.
“I didn’t know you guys know how to skate,” Miles says with interest, earning a few head nods in agreement.
“I don’t — Or, well, I didn’t, but now I have a little bit of experience. Miguel taught me today,” you reveal with a small smile.
“And Dulzura did amazing,” Miguel adds, looking at you with a warm smile — one that seems to be reserved just for you, as far as the spider gang is concerned.
Glances are shared amongst your friends, curious as always. It’s no secret that Miguel and you hold each other in high regard, or that you occupy a place in the heart of the once stoic man. You even have your own nickname, which none of them are even sure where or when it came to be. One day, they simply heard Miguel address you as such and noted the level of comfort and familiarity you had with it, meaning the nickname had had to be a thing for some time.
“Thanks to you,” you answer. “You made it fun and not so scary.”
Smiling at each other, Miguel and you continue to eat your s’mores before you become aware of teasing noises from your friends.
“What?” you ask, confused.
“Nothing,” Miles answers, giving a warning look to the others, but Hobie Brown has other plans.
“You guys are under mistletoe,” Hobie says with a half smirk.
That simple statement makes your heads snap upwards, finding the plant innocently hanging over the two of you from a tree. Neither of you noticed it earlier, somehow, but it’s there — hanging so effortlessly above the two of you, a Christmas symbol for many and one with several meanings, such as peace, goodwill, love, and even fertility. And of course, there’s that one tradition when two people happen to be below it that involves…
Slowly, Miguel and you look away from the mistletoe and at each other once the realization dawns on you. The respectful distance between you suddenly seems shorter, much shorter. Gazing into each other’s eyes, you both sense the continuous teasing, but also curious energy radiating from your friends. Will you kiss?
“I — Um,” Miguel starts, his brain failing to form words.
“Wow, um, we didn’t — didn’t see it earlier,” you stammer, still looking at Miguel before you look away to face your friends. You offer a small smile. “It’s just a silly tradition, right?” you ask, turning to look at Miguel again.
“Yeah — Yeah, it’s an old tradition,” Miguel quickly replies, still looking at you.
“And besides, you know — Miguel, he — We must be respectful of each other. And I mean that for everyone,” you continue, stopping yourself just in time before stating that Miguel isn’t open to physical touch, much less a kiss. “Including you all. So, yeah.”
“If you say so,” Hobie answers before he takes a drink, slightly shaking his head in either disbelief or amusement, who knows.
“In my universe, the ancient Greeks used mistletoe berries to treat some medical conditions, and even as a way to promote fertility,” Margo shares, shifting the focus from you and Miguel.
You exhale softly and take a drink, glad for the distraction Margo has provided. Slowly, you glance at Miguel to gauge his reaction now. You find him staring at the bonfire, what’s left of his s’more forgotten for now.
“Hey,” you whisper, catching his attention.
“Hey,” he replies in a whisper, turning your way.
“You okay?” you ask.
Miguel nods, slowly smiling a bit. “Yes, thank you.” He pauses and looks at his s’more. “I know what you did there, so thank you.” You raise an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. “Without bringing up my physical touch thing, you steered the conversation away,” he explains, whispering. “Thank you for time and time again respecting my boundaries.”
You smile slowly and nod. “Always. I’m not pushing your boundaries over a silly tradition,” you answer, not quite believing the ‘silly’ part, but saying it in hopes of easing any discomfort.
“I wouldn’t say it’s silly,” Miguel gently counters, informing you indirectly that perhaps… He isn’t opposed to participating in the tradition and would kiss you, if the circumstances were different; those being Miguel’s boundaries with physical touch and a worry of disrespecting each other. “It's a fun, old tradition. As long as there's no disrespect.”
“I agree,” you confess. “I said that for you. I didn't want the situation to make you uncomfortable.”
“Oh,” Miguel answers, realizing that that means you'd be open to the tradition, too. “So you… You participate?”
“In the past, yes, but only with Peter,” you share, looking at the bonfire's flames briefly.
“I see,” Miguel responds.
A few seconds later of debating, you watch Miguel lift his hand with his index finger out towards you.
You stare at his finger and then look at him, wondering. Slowly, you raise your own finger to the same height as Miguel's, leaving a few inches of separation.
Smoothly, Miguel moves his finger closer and closer until there’s barely an inch of space left. A second later, his finger moves the rest of the way and ever so gently, presses against yours at the top.
You watch in silence, smiling sheepishly and leaving your finger in place until Miguel slowly retracts his own, about thirty seconds later. Smiling to yourselves and ignored by your friends, who are too busy talking about some celebrity from another universe, you continue to enjoy your s’mores with the silent yet mutual understanding of what that gesture shared between you symbolizes: a kiss underneath the mistletoe.
-♡-
Hours later, Miguel and you are back in your own cabin after the bonfire. After showering to wash away the scent of smoke, dinner was cooked and eaten. Out of nowhere, you surprised Miguel with a little self-care moment that involved matching headbands and treating yourselves with gentle skincare before unwinding with Christmas movies and snacks in the living room; finishing the day in a relaxing manner.
“Good night,” you softly say with a smile once the last movie is over and you've both cleaned up the living room from your activity.
“Good night. Sleep well,” Miguel answers, reciprocating the smile. He enters his own bedroom once he sees you enter your own and heads to the en suite bathroom to do his routine. Once done, Miguel steps out of the bathroom and begins to prepare his bed to sleep, ensuring that your sweatshirt is near him.
He slips off his top and places it at the end of the bed before climbing on it and laying down. Staring at the ceiling, he sighs softly and begins to reflect on the day, thinking to himself how much he enjoyed spending the day with you. Rolling on his side, Miguel smiles to himself as he fondly recalls the day’s activities like the cooking, watching the movie, the relaxing self-care, and the ice skating. It’s then that his thoughts shift to that moment at the bonfire, but before he can reflect on it, he hears a noise coming from his bed.
Already laying on your bed, you’ve barely tucked yourself in when you hear a semi-loud noise from Miguel’s bedroom. The loudness startles you so much you immediately climb out of bed and walk to Miguel’s room.
“Miguel?” you call out, pushing the door open without thinking about asking first. “I’m turning on the light.” Once you locate the light switch, you flick it and freeze at the doorway when you find Miguel’s bed, and him on it, partly on the floor while the other half remains in place. “Are you okay?” you ask, rushing to his side to help him as he begins to move.
“Yeah, I’m alright. Just a scratch, I think,” he answers as he maneuvers himself to stand up.
“How did that happened?” you ask in shock, offering your hand just in case Miguel needs help. A second later, Miguel accepts it. You clasp hands, securely, and pull him up before releasing his hand.
“I heard a noise and next thing I know, I’m falling,” Miguel answers, shaking his head in amusement.
You look at him, finding a smile on his face. “I’m surprised you didn’t say anything while it was happening. I would’ve probably cursed out of surprise.”
Miguel chuckles softly. “I did, internally. It happened so fast,” he says, crouching to inspect the damage. “Seems like the base and this side of the headboard cracked.”
“Surely it was broken before we arrived,” you state, crouching next to Miguel to look at the situation. In doing so, you notice the sweatshirt you gave Miguel earlier this week for his sleep, still clinging to the half hanging mattress. “It seems the owners failed to catch this.”
“It appears so,” Miguel answers in amusement as you both continue to look at the broken bed.
You sigh softly just as you notice that there are several spots on the wall where the paint has chipped off, right about where the top of the headboard lines up. Your mouth parts slightly as you realize what the reason must be for that.
“Oh,” Miguel quietly mutters, his gaze on the wall, too. He hadn’t noticed that before until now, and now that he does, his cheeks flush as he realizes.
“Umm... You said you got a scratch?” you ask, shifting the conversation.
Miguel turns to look at you, his cheeks still red. “It’s probably nothing,” he says, lifting his bicep to check. “I think I hit it against the nightstand in my attempt to catch myself.”
“Here, let me see,” you gently request.
“It really is nothing,” Miguel answers, standing up.
“It doesn’t hurt to check,” you reply, keeping your eyes on Miguel’s face because he’s shirtless.
“Alright, alright,” Miguel murmurs softly before he shows you his bicep, which immediately earns himself a frown from you. “It’s not that bad.”
“There’s blood,” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll find a first aid kit. Please sit down… “ you trail off and look around the room, searching for a chair or something for him to sit on. “There,” you gesture once you locate a wing back armchair near the dresser. Without giving Miguel a chance to decline your help, you head to his bathroom in search of the kit. Thankfully, you find one under one of the sinks. “Alright, I found one.” You announce, leaving the bathroom and walking straight to Miguel, who is sitting on the chair just like you asked him to.
“It’s truly fine, Dulzura,” Miguel insists just as you kneel at his side. He looks away for a few seconds, finding it unnecessary for you to give him this much attention to the point you’re on your knees. “It’s just a small scratch.”
“I said that to you many months ago. On Father’s Day when I hurt myself, remember?” you say, opening the first aid kit and looking for the right supplies. “It was just a scratch and you still tended to it.”
“That’s…” he starts, but trails off because he was about to tell you that that situation was different.
“Please… Just let me,” you gently say, looking up at him.
“I — Okay,” Miguel answers, staring back at you and finding it impossible to refuse your care and attention any longer. He swallows softly, his maroon eyes gazing over your face. “Alright, thank you… Thank you, Dulzura.”
You smile sweetly at Miguel before you begin checking the wound. “It’s pretty long,” you state. “May I…?” You look up again, referring to touching him.
“Yes,” Miguel replies quietly.
You nod before gently cleaning the bit of blood present. Your fingers touch his skin respectfully, always polite of Miguel’s boundaries.
Miguel looks away a few seconds later and stares at the broken bed while you continue to work. He flexes the fingers from his free arm over and over again, feeling your fingers on his skin and trying not to think about how pleasant your touch is.
“All clean,” you murmur. “Luckily, it’s not a deep scratch, but it’s still good to make sure.” You search through the kit to find some kind of ointment, something to alleviate any discomfort and help boost the healing process before turning to face him again, the situation reminding you of last year, when you tended to much worse injuries on Miguel’s body. At that, your face softens and your gaze sweeps over Miguel’s torso, easily spotting those old scars. The itch to trace them suddenly overwhelms you, a need to physically feel them to assure yourself they’re truly only scars and no longer wounds in need of attention.
Of course, you don’t; doing so would be far too intimate and would disrespect Miguel’s boundaries. Internally, you tell yourself to focus as you begin to softly apply the ointment to Miguel’s scratch. You focus on that for a moment before your gaze strays away for a few seconds, despite yourself, to Miguel’s physique, noting and remembering details of Miguel’s body; his tan skin, the scars that were once wounds tended by you, the scars that were already there before, the multiple lines defining muscles from years of physical activity, and the soft trail of hair leading down to Miguel's —
You swallow and look away, scolding yourself for noticing silly things. Instead, you focus on how the ointment melts into Miguel's warm skin as you apply it, his warmth seeping into your own.
“Looks good. It should heal quickly,” you say, clearing your throat and reluctantly removing your hand from Miguel.
Miguel glances at you as you begin to place everything you used back in the kit. “I'm sure it'll be good by tomorrow morning. Thank you, I appreciate it, Dulzura,” he says, offering you a warm smile.
“Always,” you answer looking up at him again, reciprocating the smile. Standing up, you turn to the bed, the sight of it reminding you that Miguel can't sleep here now.
At the same time, Miguel looks at it. He stands up and approaches the bed, pulling the comforter off before he grabs a pillow. “I need to set up the couch,” he states, pulling a blanket, too.
“The couch?” Your eyebrows raise as you think about the couch and how uncomfortable it is already compared to a bed. You imagine it'd be triple the discomfort for Miguel due to his build. “That's not gonna be comfortable for you,” you say. “Have my room instead. I'll take the couch.”
“Wha— No, no, no. That's kind of you, but no way.” Miguel shakes his head, speaking firmly while holding the bedding in his arms. “I'm not letting you sleep on the couch.”
“I'll be fine. It'll be far more comfortable for me than you,” you argue.
“Dulzura, thank you, but no. I'm not taking the bed and letting you sleep on the couch. I'm a gentleman,” Miguel softly, but firmly continues to decline.
“But—” you start, trying to convince Miguel.
“Please, no buts. You sleep on the bed. I wouldn't even be able to sleep knowing you're in the living room.”
“I've slept in the living room at the penthouse before. Many times.”
“This is different, you know that,” he replies with a small smirk. “I appreciate you trying to accommodate me, but there's no way I'm doing that.”
Huffing, you follow Miguel to the living room and watch as he begins to set up his pillow. You suddenly think of something, but you're not sure Miguel will be comfortable with that idea. He might even find it inappropriate. With a sigh, you dare voice your idea. “What if — Um…” You trail off, building up the courage. “If you're comfortable with it, would you be okay with just, you know,” you continue, shrugging to downplay the offer. “We could share,” you finally say, quickly.
Miguel’s eyes widen slightly and you almost swear he clutches the blanket a little tighter. “Share… Share what?”
“You know,” you reply, gesturing to your room. “I wouldn’t mind. I’m comfortable with you because you know, you’re… You’re a gentleman,” you say, softly. “And I trust you, one hundred percent. Wholeheartedly.” Clearing your throat, you look away, afraid you’ve pushed too far with your offer, even if it’s out of kindness. “But, well… I know maybe you’re not at that level of comfort with me, which is understandable,” you quickly say, not trying to guilt Miguel into it. “Whether it’s because we — you know. Us being a man and a woman. Not that I think a man and a woman can’t lay tog—” you stop rambling and sigh. “You know what I’m trying to say. Or, because we would be, closer and we might touch, so…” you trail off again, realizing you probably look like a fool in front of Miguel with your rambling. Maybe you should’ve just kept the idea to yourself. “I understand if you don’t want to, that’s what I’m trying to say, however, if you wish to, that’s an option. It’s up to you.” You gently conclude, deciding that’s the best way to explain it. “I’ll be in the room, if you need something, or if you — You know.” You nod at Miguel. “So, yeah… Good night.”
“Thank you. Good night,” Miguel answers softly, feeling like a deer caught in headlights due to your offer to share the bed.
You walk back to your room and stand next to your bed for a few seconds, almost in a daze. For some reason, you discover that your heart is racing. You finally climb back into bed after shaking your head as an attempt to clear your mind and based on the silence that follows, you assume that Miguel has decided to sleep on the couch after all. Turning on your side, you pull the covers higher over you, preparing to go to sleep after Miguel’s bed breaking. Several minutes later, you hear Miguel’s footsteps.
“You awake?” Miguel whispers.
“Mhm. Still awake. Is everything okay?” you ask.
“Yeah, I just…” Miguel trails off. He’s not sure if you can make out his figure in the mostly dark bedroom, but he looks around shyly. “It turns out, I don’t fit on the couch.”
“Oh,” you softly respond. “Your legs?”
“Yeah, they’re hanging off the couch, so… I was wondering…”
Smiling softly, you turn on the lamp on the nightstand closest to you. You find Miguel standing near the doorway, still shirtless. “I can imagine. Do you want to bring your pillow, or are these okay?” you ask, gesturing to the free pillows on the other side of your bed, unused.
Miguel’s body relaxes, as if he was worried that your kind offer was no longer on the table. “Those should be fine, thank you.”
You nod. “Alright, then… If you need nothing else, you can — You know.”
“Right,” Miguel answers shyly, his cheeks feeling hot as he moves around the bed to the other side. With his long strides, it doesn’t take Miguel long to reach the empty side of the bed. He looks at it and then at you, noticing an equally shy expression on your face.
Noting the shyness in Miguel, you offer a warm and reassuring smile to encourage him, which seems to do the trick.
Gently pulling the covers on his side of the bed, Miguel climbs in, careful not to disturb you too much. He lays on his back before pulling the covers up again. Once settled, he turns to face you, giving you a small smile. “Thank you, and I’m sorry if this is an inconvenience. Please… Don’t hesitate to tell me if I make you uncomfortable,” Miguel gently says. “I'll get off the bed, no questions asked.”
You chuckle softly. “You’re forgetting I’m the one that offered and also what I told you. I trust you,” you murmur.
“I trust you, too,” Miguel whispers. “I just… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in the aspect that you mentioned earlier.” He looks away for a few seconds. “In that you’re a woman and I’m a man, but also because you’re like me,” he says, turning to look back at you with a sheepish smile. “We’re not used to sharing a bed. I don’t want to disturb your sleep and rest because you don’t have the bed all to yourself.”
“I’ll be perfectly fine,” you answer with amusement. “But, I appreciate your concern for my beauty sleep.”
“Not that you need it,” Miguel answers without thinking, still wearing that sheepish smile.
You hum, your cheeks feeling warm suddenly. “Oh, thank you,” you whisper, looking away.
Of course, Miguel notices your shy reaction to his words, inspiring a blooming warmth and fuzzy feeling in his chest. “Always,” Miguel whispers, still grinning.
You clear your throat and pull the covers slightly higher to hide your face. “Good night, Migs,” you whisper, turning off the nightstand lamp.
“Buenas noches, Dulzura [good night],” Miguel murmurs, still watching you. “Dulces sueños [sweet dreams].” Miguel turns away and closes his eyes, laying next to you.
Trying to fall asleep, thoughts of your current position comes to mind for the two of you. Is this strange? You’ve both laid next to each other before, even shared a blanket and pillows, but that was different. All those times, it’s been on the living room floor, not a bed, and for some reason, the bed makes it more… Intimate.
It's not strange, right? Best friends have sleepovers and share a bed all the time.
Rolling to your other side, facing away from Miguel, you decide it’s normal. It’s totally normal… Except, the last time you shared a bed was with Peter, your Peter, and that was years ago. The thing is, you don’t find it uncomfortable, even if he’s a man and you’re a woman. Instead, you find Miguel’s presence next to you new, yet insanely pleasant. His body warmth seems to call to you, to move closer and take a dip in it. You close your eyes and try to ignore it, certain that you’re simply immensely exhausted from the fun day you both had and now having strange thoughts.
Next to you, Miguel opens his eyes and stares into the darkness. There’s some distance between you two and yet, the combination of your personal hygiene items and your very own scent embrace him, like a blanket of constellations welcoming him home. He suddenly remembers that he left your sweatshirt in the bedroom and realizes that if he had stayed in the living room, he would’ve already gone back to retrieve it, but being here with you now, within hand’s reach, he has no need for it since he's next to you, his sleep remedy.
Minutes later, Miguel hears your breathing slow down, signaling your slumber and promising his to come. Focusing on the gentle sound, Miguel rolls on his side, facing your back. Despite the darkness, he can make out your figure, so close, yet with a respectful distance still in place. Once more, Miguel’s fingers flex; close, open, close, open. They itch, to reach and touch.
Miguel slightly shakes his head, ignoring the strange need. He closes his eyes and focuses on your breathing again, finding it easy to find sleep, as always, with you near him.
-♡-
When Miguel wakes up, he’s immediately aware of a pleasant presence next to him. It’s soft, warm, and their scent — Miguel wants nothing more than to bury his face into them and further inhale that lovely essence. Still half asleep and with his eyes closed, Miguel moves closer to the presence, allowing himself to be lulled in this moment of vulnerability.
“Mmm,” Miguel hums in appreciation once the scent is closer, once the warmth feels like it’s become his own. His arm tightens around said presence; wanting it closer, closer, closer.
His eyes slowly open, needing a moment to adjust to the bits of light streaming through the windows’ blinds. With his brain barely waking up, it takes Miguel several seconds to realize: his arm is wrapped around your waist, holding you close.
As the realization dawns on him, Miguel’s arm remains around you, even when his mouth slightly parts in surprise at his own actions. Despite the shock, Miguel doesn’t remove his arm right away. He leaves it there instead and gazes at you, at your sleepy face.
Miguel drinks in the sight of you, one that’s not entirely new to him for he’s had the absolute pleasure and privilege of witnessing so many times before. Still, for some reason, in this moment in this little cabin in the middle of a forest with snow all around, the sight feels different. There’s your eyelashes and the way they brush against the top of your cheeks, your lips, the peaceful and almost innocent-like look on your face, and how utterly and unquestionably endearing, lovely, and beautiful you look.
Miguel continues to observe you, almost in a trance, even as you stir. He watches you exhale softly, snuggling further into the pillows before going still again.
It’s then that it dawns on Miguel that he ought to remove his arm from you. It’s not appropriate, is it? He’s a gentleman. He was raised to be one, and so, Miguel reluctantly removes his arm from you, instantly missing everything about it from the softness to the warmth of your body.
As if sensing the absence of his touch, you stir again and this time, Miguel can tell you’ll be waking up. You hum softly, eyes fluttering before they focus on the man next to you. “Miguel,” you murmur sleepily. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Dulzura,” Miguel murmurs. “Did you sleep well?” He asks, wondering if he disturbed your sleep at some point during the night.
“Mmm, yes. I did,” you answer, covering your mouth to yawn. “I slept very well.”
“That’s a relief,” Miguel says. “I was worried I… I don’t know. Kicked you in my sleep, or something.”
That makes you snort softly. “If you had, I wouldn’t be in bed right now. Probably.”
“Not funny,” Miguel responds in a slightly playful way, yet he’s not amused with the idea of you being hurt, especially by him.
“There was no kicking, or anything,” you assure him.
Except Miguel did have his arm around you when he woke up, but you’re not aware of that innocent fact.
Remembering that, Miguel clears his throat. “… I need to tell you something,” he says, sitting up to give you space.
“Oh… Is something wrong?” you ask, worried you possibly did something to offend him during your sleep. Your brain quickly goes through the worst scenarios, like you getting too close to him, or saying something inappropriate.
“Not exactly? It’s something I did,” Miguel continues, watching you sit up as well. “I just want to be honest.”
You nod, clasping your hands together and waiting.
“I didn’t kick you,” Miguel starts. “But… When I woke up, I had my arm — around you — around your waist,” Miguel confesses, his cheeks red. He curls his fingers around the bedding, waiting for your reaction and finding surprise, but no negative emotion.
“It was?” you ask softly, thinking. Somewhere during the night, you vividly remember feeling the weight of it, yet you were more asleep than anything. “I felt it during the night.” You announce quietly, trying to recall the short blurry memory.
Miguel’s eyebrows shoot up. That means he held you for far longer than he thought. “I’m sorry,” Miguel states a few seconds after recovering from the news. “I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what got to me.”
Smiling, you shake your head. “You don’t have to apologize. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Really. In fact,” you pause, looking away out of embarrassment and a bit of shame. “I may have… Touched your arm, too.”
“I don’t mind,” Miguel quickly admits because he recognizes your emotions and he doesn’t want you to feel like that. Besides, the truth is that he doesn't mind one bit that you touched him. In fact, he hasn’t minded your touch on previous occasions when physical contact has been needed or has happened out of spontaneity. “It's the truth. And it's only expected.” Miguel continues, reassuring you so you stop feeling negatively when it was him who clearly initiated physical contact during his sleep. “I did have my arm around you, so, it's only expected you would touch it. And there's no reason to be… Embarrassed about it,” he gently adds, giving you a warm and soft smile when you look at him again.
You smile back and nod, slowly feeling less embarrassed about it. “I’m glad you don’t feel upset,” you reply, unclasping your hands.
“Not in the slightest,” Miguel answers reassuringly. “And you…?” Miguel asks, just to be certain.
“No, not at all,” you reply. “Not at all.” You glance at the windows, noticing the sun’s rays. “We should get ready for the day. We’re looking after Mayday today.”
“Right,” Miguel answers, remembering. “I almost forgot.” He sighs softly, feeling good about being honest with you regarding what happened and relieved that you both handled it so well. With the day ahead of you two, Miguel decides to move on from the moment for now and start the day by leaning back to stretch.
Next to him, your gaze moves over to Miguel, landing on his chest before it dips to his abdomen. It’s impossible not to notice the way his body moves, or how the sunlight caresses his bare skin. You look away, remembering it’s incredibly rude to stare, just as Miguel climbs out of bed. You find yourself staring again as he stretches once more, his back popping and back muscles rippling.
Again, you look away and finally get out of bed to start the day. The two of you quickly make the bed before you head into your respective bathrooms to get ready.
An hour later, both Miguel and you find yourselves in Mary Jane and Peter’s home.
“We seriously cannot thank you enough,” Peter B. says as he carefully hands Mayday’s backpack to Miguel since you’re already holding his daughter’s hand. “Mary Jane and I appreciate it so much.” He says, exhaustion visible on his face.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Miguel asks, voicing your own thoughts.
“No, no. We’re good, thank you. You offering to take Mayday with you for the day, having her have a day out means so much to us. Mary Jane and I have hardly left the house, which means so has little Mayday,” Peter answers. “Mary Jane is still recovering and with it being cold, we don’t want to take Benjamin out either. I’ve gone out to get groceries and the such to distract Mayday a little, but that’s nothing compared to our routine from before. Today will make her so happy.”
You offer him a smile, gently patting his shoulder. “We’re happy to help, and if you need something else, please don’t hesitate to let us know.”
“Thank you,” Peter answers, smiling despite his exhaustion. “Thank you so much. If you guys need anything or have questions, or need to bring Mayday back earlier, please don’t hesitate either. We’ll understand.”
“We’ll return at the agreed time, don’t worry. She’s safe with us. You guys do what you need to do with little Benjamin, and take care of Mary Jane. If she needs medical attention or support, the infirmary is always open,” Miguel states, reminding Peter of that resource.
“Thank you, thank you,” Peter sighs. “It means a lot. We’ll keep it in mind, if necessary.”
“Say bye to your dad, Mayday! You’ll be back in a few hours,” you say, still holding Mayday.
“Bye, daddy!” Mayday eagerly says, waving bye.
“Bye, sweetheart. I’ll see you in a little bit,” Peter says with a smile, walking closer to gently pinch her cheek. “Be a good girl for uncle Miggle and aunt Y/N,” he adds, earning himself a scoff from Miguel at the silly nickname Mayday gave him some time ago.
“Alright, we’re heading out,” Miguel says. “Rest as much as you can, Peter.”
“Thanks, pal. I’ll try. Have fun, guys. Be safe, please!” Peter says, watching you leave with his daughter for the day.
Back to your vacation spot, the three of you step out of the portal and into the cold. You immediately feel Mayday shiver at the change of temperature, so you hold her closer and adjust her puffy jacket to keep her warm. “Gotta keep you warm,” you murmur as you move on to fix her beanie.
“It might be too cold for her,” Miguel says, slinging the backpack on one of his shoulders and stepping closer to help.
“She did shiver just now, so I’m adjusting her clothes to make sure she’s as warm as possible, right, Mayday?” you murmur softly, unable to stop yourself from being so affectionate with her. “Alright, all warm for now.”
“First activity for the day?” Miguel asks to confirm, still carrying the backpack.
“We have Mayday, so, yes,” you reply with a chuckle. “Let’s just hope she likes what we’ve planned for her today.”
Miguel laughs softly as you both begin to walk over the snow. “I’m sure we can figure something out if the day’s activities are not to her taste.”
With another chuckle, you both continue to walk to your destination. All the while, Mayday looks around with excitement, even though it’s just a bunch of snow and trees all around for several minutes until the three of you reach the small and cute village. The three of you look around for a moment to take in the village, realizing it’s one of those villages that goes over the top with Christmas decorations everywhere.
“It’s cute,” you state as you near your destination by following signs.
“Mhm, it reminds me of those movies my mom used to watch when Gabriel and I were kids,” Miguel answers. “Some of which are so… Predictable, but still fun to watch. I guess.”
You snort softly. “What? You don’t like those movies?”
Miguel shrugs as you both keep walking. He looks over at you and then at Mayday, who is too busy looking at everything to pay either of you attention. He can’t blame her, though, he supposes this is like a kid’s dream. For a few seconds, he thinks of his little Gabby and how she would’ve loved today’s activities. With an exhale, Miguel gently pulls himself back to the present after silently sending his child an ‘I love you’. “I just think… Some of them are both predictable and problematic, so I can’t watch them without thinking about that.”
“Do go on,” you press. “Please?”
Miguel smiles. “Well, when I say that, I’m talking about those movies where there’s a successful character in the city. Typically, it’s a woman. She has a partner and it all seems to be going well in her life. For example, she has a big work promotion coming up because she’s been killing it in her career through hard work and she has all these nice things, like a luxurious car and apartment, but then, she goes back to where she came from for whatever reason. Some far away place from the city that she left a few years ago and hasn’t visited in x number of years because she’s been busy, and this is sometimes right after discovering that her boyfriend has been cheating on her,” Miguel says, definitely getting into it.
Now, with her not visiting her parents… I’d be hurt if my kid hadn’t visited in so long, but then again, the parents could also travel to her.” Miguel continues with furrowed eyebrows. “Actually, I had never thought about that. Everybody always judges the person who went away, but the parents could also visit… Hm. Well, anyway.” Miguel shakes his head, trying to focus and not ramble. “She goes back to some small town where it looks like Santa Claus threw up all over the place. Like… Here. Anyway, she gets judged left and right by people that knew her growing up. You know, giving her backhanded compliments. Like, ‘oh, I hear you’re getting a promotion, but your boyfriend just cheated on you, so how successful are you really, then?’ They have that kind of attitude.”
You nod, paying attention and trying not to grin too hard at how passionate Miguel seems about this topic.
“And it’s like, wait, what does that have to do with her romantic life? It’s like they’re saying her boyfriend cheated on her because she’s ‘too’ successful. It’s so annoying. What message is it sending to women and young girls? Not a good one, for sure,” Miguel says shaking his head in disapproval. “Well, she’s there in town and then,” Miguel says with an exasperated sigh. “She runs into her previous boyfriend, probably high school sweetheart, who she loved so much, but when she brought up the idea of moving to the city years prior, he didn’t support it because he’s a small town man. He imagined spending his entire life in that place, which is fine, but the female protagonist didn’t want that life. She wanted something different, so they ended up breaking up because of the woman’s decision to pursue their dreams.”
“As they should,” you add.
“Exactly. As they should,” Miguel affirms. “But then, they run into each other in the present and it’s painfully awkward because they haven’t seen each other since the breakup and old wounds are open. Despite the woman trying to keep her distance, fate, or perhaps due to the townspeople who meddle too much, she can’t seem to escape the man and they’re stuck in this forced proximity for half the movie, and you can tell the guy is still upset over the girl’s decision. Anyway, it ends with the woman apparently ‘realizing’ she’s not happy in the city, never has been. And she decides, just from spending like three days in her old town, that she wants to move back and take on the family business she didn’t initially want to be a part of, and resigning from her job. Oh, and she ends up with the old boyfriend. The end,” Miguel finishes. “It’s repeated so much. How about we make the man realize he’s not happy in his town like he thought he would, and is the one who leaves to go live in the city with his successful partner? I’d like to see that instead.”
“You know… You’re right. I don’t think I’ve watched a movie like that, now that you mention it. There should be one like that,” you answer.
“That’s why I don’t like those especially. The other ones, they’re good,” Miguel says with a chuckle. “Oh, look. We’re here.” Miguel gestures ahead, directing your attention.
You grin at the sight and point for Mayday to look. “Look, Mayday! Over there.”
Expectantly, Miguel and you wait for Mayday’s reaction to the first activity of the day: petting and feeding reindeer. Thankfully, her reaction doesn’t disappoint.
“Reindeer! Santa Claus’s sleigh,” she says grinning from ear to ear.
“Yes, mija [my daughter]. Those are Santa Claus’s reindeer,” Miguel replies with a small smile. “Want to pet them?”
“Yes! Can I pet the reindeer? Please?”
“You may, but you must be gentle, okay?” Miguel answers, establishing that boundary immediately for both her safety and the animals’.
You watch in awe, always surprised to see Miguel fall into that fatherly energy so effortlessly, further convincing you that Miguel was meant to be a father in this life.
“Come on,” Miguel says, smiling.
After paying and listening to the instructions, the three of you are in front of reindeer with other people. A worker provides information about them, from how fast they can run and how they differentiate from other deer species along with other interesting information.
With glee, Mayday watches everything from some of the reindeer peacefully eating to others walking, but her favorite part seems to be when she has the opportunity to pet and give snacks to one.
“It’s so fluffy,” she says, gently petting the animal’s head. “Like a dog.”
Miguel and you turn to look at each other, smiling.
“And so cute,” you state, carefully petting the gorgeous reindeer.
“Fluffy and cute,” Miguel murmurs, petting it himself after a few seconds of debating it. He gently pats it with a sigh, once again thinking about Gabby and how she would’ve enjoyed this. Knowing her, Gabby would’ve asked for a book about reindeer to learn more about them afterwards.
“Aww,” you coo softly when you see the reindeer close their eyes and nudge their head into Miguel’s hand, apparently enjoying the petting. “Seems like they like you. Probably because of your warmth.”
“My warmth?” Miguel questions, looking over at you.
“Yeah,” you answer with a shrug as you gently pet the side of the reindeer’s face. “You’re naturally warm. I’m sure they find your warmth… Nice.” Nice? You almost facepalm and wonder why you’re even thinking about Miguel’s body warmth. Feeling embarrassed, you change the subject and gesture to a calf. “Look, a baby reindeer,” you say, successfully shifting the attention, though Miguel glances at you even after the fact.
After another half an hour, the three of you leave with Mayday, who happily carries a reindeer plushie that Miguel bought her on the way out. Together, you walk around the village to see all the decorations and the more you walk, the more it feels like you’re all in a Christmas movie set.
“We’re only missing the love interests,” you joke when Miguel mentions that, too.
“And the meddling friend group who must be running around here somewhere,” Miguel answers with a chuckle. “How about some brunch?” Miguel asks when the scent of food from a diner reaches you.
“Actually… I could eat something right now. What about you, Mayday? Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I’m hungry. Can I have waffles?”
Miguel and you laugh quietly at the innocent question.
“We’ll see if they sell some in there, alright? I’m sure they do,” you assure Mayday, taking her hand again to head inside.
Warmth and the delicious scent of diner food immediately welcomes the three of you when you step inside. Looking around for an empty booth, Miguel and you spot a few spider people neither of you were expecting to see here, in this exact universe and location.
“I didn't know other people were coming,” you say once the three of you are sitting at the booth, including Mayday’s plushie by Miguel's side.
“I didn't either,” Miguel answers, glancing at the group and quickly identifying them.
At the same time, Ben Reilly, Malala Windsor, Max Borne, Anya Corazón, and another member you only know as Spider-Canada, turn to look at the three of you.
Making eye contact with them, Miguel and you nod as a form of greeting, receiving nods and hand waves, before looking over the menu and ordering. Thankfully for Mayday, the diner sells waffles, so Miguel orders her some along with a cup of milk.
Once you're all done eating, you take Mayday to the restroom again to wash her hands, only to run into Ben when you walk out.
“Y/N,” Ben starts, looking surprised to have run into you. “How are you doing?” he asks, offering a smile.
“Hey, I'm doing great. We've been enjoying walking around the village. You?” You ask, holding Mayday’s hand, who looks up at Ben with curious eyes.
“Good. I'm doing good. We've also been sightseeing.” Ben answers while scratching his neck, pink dusting his cheeks as he stares at you before turning to look at the kid. He offers an awkward smile to Mayday before looking back at you. “You and Miguel babysitting for Peter?”
“Yes. We offered since Mary Jane and Peter just had — Their baby,” you reply, remembering that their newborn is named Benjamin, just like Ben. You suddenly wonder how Ben feels about that and the fact that Peter looks so similar to him. “So, Miguel and I figured that we could look after Mayday for the day, and give her a fun day here.”
“That’s kind of you and Miguel. I’m sure Peter and his wife appreciate the gesture, and the little kid, too,” Ben states. “Where are you guys staying?”
“We’re staying in a cabin. It’s a few minutes from the village by foot,” you answer. “All my friends rented cabins there, too, so we’re all within walking distance.”
“Oh, you’re not all staying in the same cabin?”
“No, we’re staying in different cabins. Miguel and I are staying in one, and the rest of my friends are in two others.”
“Oh, you and Miguel are in one,” Ben repeats slowly, briefly glancing in Miguel’s direction, who is looking the other way, before turning to look back at you. “Well… I hope that you’re enjoying the cabin.”
“We are, thank you. It’s so cozy. Where are you and your friends staying at?”
“The inn. It’s just down the street,” Ben explains. “It’s a nice place. Cozy.”
You smile, “I can imagine. This place seems so magical. I’m certain that every building and crevice of this village is cozy and welcoming.”
“Uncle Miggle,” Mayday says next to you. “He’s waiting on us. Can we go?”
“We’re going, Mayday,” you answer before turning your attention to Ben. “Well, we’ll see you around, Ben. I hope you and your friends continue to enjoy the holiday trip.”
“Thank you, Y/N. You, too,” Ben replies, smiling again. “See you at work after Christmas!”
“See you!” You reply before Mayday and you both walk past Ben to return to Miguel. “We’re back,” you say once you reach Miguel.
“You guys ready to go?” Miguel asks.
“Yes. Let’s go ahead and pay.”
“I’ve already paid, don’t worry about it, Dulzura,” Miguel answers with a small grin, standing up. He quickly puts on his coat and helps Mayday with hers while you slip on your own.
In no time, the three of you exit the diner only for you to realize that Mayday isn’t wearing her beanie. “Wait, her beanie is missing. It must have fallen off the booth.”
“I’ll go get it,” Miguel states, but you shake your head.
“It’s alright. I’ll go get it. Be right back,” you announce, turning on your heel and walking back the short distance to the diner. Inside, you quickly return to your booth and find the beanie hanging from one side, where Mayday was sitting. You pick it up and head back, running into Ben right at the door while his friends are off to the side, looking at a wall with decorations.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, yes, I’m alright. Are you okay?” Ben asks, looking you up and down, as if to ensure you’re okay.
“Yep, I’m okay. Sorry, I guess I was moving too fast, I didn’t see you there,” you answer with a chuckle as Ben opens the door for you, allowing you to exit first. As you step out, you hear him chuckle, too.
“It’s alright. It happens sometimes,” he says behind you before he finds himself next to you with a small grin, right in front of the diner’s door. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, no worries,” you answer, reassuringly. “It was more the surprise of running into someone.”
It’s Ben’s chuckling that captures Miguel’s attention while he holds Mayday’s hand for her safety. He turns around when he hears it, finding you next to Ben. For some reason, he’s unable to look away from the interaction, making it the sole reason why Miguel even notices Ben looking up for a single second. Curious, Miguel’s gaze travels upwards, only to find a mistletoe hanging over the diner’s doorway, right above the two of you.
Miguel’s eyes quickly dart back to Ben, who is looking at you once more, and sees an idea form in his head — a light bulb go on.
An idea has formed in Ben’s head and it leaves Miguel frozen in place for a second, just a mere second. His chest fills with a heavy and distressing feeling, spreading like vines. Somewhere in his mind, Miguel is aware that he’s holding his breath, as if he’s bracing himself for something heart-shattering.
The heavy and distressing feeling continues to grow within Miguel, much like the idea in Ben’s head. Miguel’s suspicions are confirmed, or at least he thinks so, when he sees the other Spider-Man reach for your arm.
It’s instinct — pure instinct from somewhere within Miguel — that leads to his free hand shooting out. In the blink of an eye, a string of neon red web travels from him to you, and wraps itself around your torso. Still led by instinct, Miguel tugs you towards him and away from Ben, who was just milliseconds from touching your arm.
One second, you’re next to Ben and the next, you’re flying across the short distance and in front of Miguel, who carefully catches you by your arms, holding you steady.
“Miguel,” you breathe out, shocked. “What happened?”
“I —” Miguel starts, desperately trying to think of a reason for his actions when he can’t even begin to decipher why he’s done what he did. He stares at you, his eyebrows furrowed and chest heaving while he continues to gently hold you by your arms. Miguel searches his brain for an answer. Why did he do that? Why? “I — I can explain,” Miguel says, even though he has no explanation.
“Icicles!” Mayday exclaims next to the two of you.
Miguel looks up, finding icicles over the doorway you were just under, which he hadn’t noticed before.
“Icicles,” Miguel repeats, clearing his throat as he looks back at you, still holding you by your arms. “It looked like one was about to break off and fall on you.”
You look behind you with wide eyes, confirming that there are icicles. “I didn’t notice them,” you confess. “Thank you. Hey, Ben! Watch out for the icicles!” you call out to Ben, who for some reason, looks displeased. Maybe it’s the cold, or the news of icicles, you think to yourself.
“Thanks for the warning!” he calls back, looking at Miguel for a few seconds with that same look of displeasure. He waves bye before he’s joined by his friends.
Miguel sighs, slowly releasing your arms and stepping back. The sinking and heavy feeling in his chest slowly dissipates, and seeing Ben walk away from the diner with his friends, heading in the opposite direction of where you all should be heading next, helps even more.
“Whew, thank goodness you noticed. We should probably tell the owners about it,” you say, looking back at the diner, completely unaware of what just transpired.
“Yeah,” Miguel answers, feeling like he can breath normally again with the distance between Reilly and you growing. “I’ll go tell them. You stay here with Mayday. I’ll be right back, okay?” Miguel says, not wanting you or Mayday to walk past the icicles again.
“Alright, just be careful, please,” you answer softly, a hint of worry on your face.
“I will, don’t worry. I’ll be right back,” Miguel responds before he heads back to the diner to notify someone about the icicles situation. Still feeling off by what just happened, Miguel shortly returns to you and Mayday. “I told one of the workers, so that should take care of it,” Miguel announces. “Should we head back to the cabin, or would you like to go somewhere else?”
“I think with what almost happened, I’d like to go back to the cabin,” you truthfully answer with a small smile. “Besides, we have some fun activities to do with Mayday there.”
“True,” Miguel answers. “Let’s head back, then.” Miguel sighs to himself as you all begin to walk, trying to figure out the mess in his head, but he can’t make anything out of it.
He did a good thing, right?
Miguel subtly glances at you as he asks himself that. What he did was a good thing, or at least Miguel thinks so. Ben was going to try and kiss you because of the mistletoe tradition. There’s no doubt about that in Miguel’s mind; it was obvious and he could smell it from a mile away. And you… Miguel steals a glance at you again just as you tell Mayday something.
You were so oblivious to it, to Ben’s intentions. Miguel doesn’t know how Ben was going to do it. Was he going to tell you about the mistletoe and hint for a kiss, or hope that you offered one instead? Or, was he going to steal a kiss from you without your consent? The simple idea of Ben kissing you without your consent, especially when you don’t carry yourself like that, upsets Miguel. Just yesterday, you were talking about respecting everyone when it comes to the tradition and today, Ben was likely going to disrespect you and your boundaries.
Miguel huffs to himself as you near your cabin, deciding that his actions are justified. He prevented someone from disrespecting you, even if it was only going to be a harmless kiss because of some Christmas tradition. Or at least, that’s what Miguel tells himself.
As the cabin comes into view, Miguel continues to think about the situation and begins to wonder if Ben’s intentions were truly harmless. Didn’t you say months ago that Ben wanted to tell you something, only for it to be about an anomaly report when Ben knows how to make them? That was strange to Miguel back then, how Reilly had only sought your help for something as basic as a report.
And wasn’t there that time at the training sector when Ben only greeted you and completely ignored him despite walking next to you? It was as if Miguel, a man nearly seven feet tall, wasn’t even there. Then, that same day at the training sector, he seemed to be doing a little too much in Miguel’s opinion. It almost seemed like Reilly was trying to impress someone, but doing a horrible job at it — not that Miguel would know any better, but still.
Miguel’s thoughts abruptly halt when he notices you duck before a snowball flies by. He immediately forgets about Ben and turns to find the culprit for the snowball, realizing you sensed it coming.
“Are you okay, Dulzura?” he asks, turning to face you again when he finds no one, a gentle look on his face just for you.
“I’m alright,” you answer, turning around. “I think someone’s playing a trick on us.”
“I think so, too,” Miguel answers, looking at the ground because he has an idea. He crouches and grabs snow before he molds it into a snowball with his gloved hands. “I think I know who threw that one.”
“Right there,” you murmur, noticing footprints coming from an invisible source on the snow. “On your right,” you whisper before another snowball flies your way. You’re quick to dodge it and Miguel is even quicker in throwing his own snowball. It hits something, or rather someone, and when it makes impact, it reveals none other than Miles.
“Attack!” he says, crouching to form snowballs and inciting the rest of the spider gang to come out from behind trees.
Seeing multiple snowballs coming your way, you quickly grab Mayday, who of course, finds the situation hilarious.
“Snow attack!” she yells, still carrying her reindeer.
“I need you to hold on to me, Mayday, okay?” you instruct with a grin. “We’re being attacked.”
“Are we going to win?” she asks as Miguel walks past you, preventing a snowball from hitting you and Mayday and throwing four back in retaliation.
“That’s the plan,” you answer. “Miguel, you, and I must work as a team.”
“And Binx!” she answers, showing you her reindeer.
“And Binx,” you add, wondering at what point did Mayday name the reindeer as you dodge another snowball from Hobie. You quickly collect snow and shape it into balls, launching one after another to different people.
Snowballs fly across the plot of land, some bigger and faster than others. Laughter and comments about winning and defeating fill the air. The snowball fight goes on for some time until Hobie, Gwen, and Pav begin to target you specifically. You run around, swinging from trees to dodge their relentless attack, which only stops when Miguel begins to target them back with much larger and stronger throws, knocking them down.
You laugh to yourself and swing back to Miguel, helping him form more snowballs to defeat the group. It finally concludes with Spider-Ham waving a white flag for surrender.
“Victory!” Mayday exclaims, but not before throwing one last snowball at Spider-Ham’s face.
“Alright, we give up!” Miles states, standing up and brushing off snow from his jacket. “I told you guys not to target Y/N too much,” he continues, looking at the group. “I knew el tío was going to go full on protective mode [the uncle].”
“I think you mean he was going to defend his team,” you clarify, or at least think so, with a small smile as you walk past him. “And I so happened to be in his team.”
“I don’t think I can handle this anymore,” you hear Pav say behind you. “This is like reading a nearly 400K torturous slow burn fanfic on Our Own Archive with the ‘idiots in love’ tag.”
“That’s what it’s called in your universe?” Margo asks. “But, so true.”
“Ooh, can we build a snowman? Please, please?” Mayday asks, tugging your arm and looking up at you with such puppy eyes you forget to ask Pav why he brought up fanfiction.
You glance at Miguel, who shrugs, as if saying ‘why not?’
“Why don’t we build it in front of the cabin?” you suggest.
“Yippie, okay!” With that, Mayday runs ahead of you and picks a spot to begin rolling snow.
“It’s been a hot minute since I’ve built a snowman,” you comment as you both watch Mayday kneel on the ground with her reindeer next to her whilst telling it how to make a snowman.
“Yeah, it’s a been… Years for me, too. I think since I was like fifteen, or so, with Gabriel,” Miguel replies with a fond smile. “Come on. Mayday is going to teach us how to build a snowman, along with her reindeer.”
“Binx,” you say.
“When did they get a name?” Miguel asks. “I missed that development.”
“Somewhere after the reindeer place and before the snowball fight,” you reply with an amused smile. “I found out about it just before the action started.”
“I see. Kids,” Miguel answers with a smile. He turns around to look at the others. “Should we invite them for the baking?”
“I was thinking about that. Maybe some of them will be up for it, if they don’t have plans already. It’s worth asking.”
“Uncle Miggle, aunt Dulz,” Mayday calls.
“Dulz…?” you repeat.
“She’s trying to call you Dulzura,” Miguel states with a smile. “Seems like you have your very own nickname from her, too, hm?” he teases.
“Nothing beats Miggle, though,” you tease back, making Miguel chuckle.
“It’s a noble nickname,” Miguel answers before you reach Mayday. “What is it, mija [my daughter]?”
“I need help,” Mayday replies. “We need big, big snowman.”
Together, Miguel and you help Mayday build a big snowman while your friends build their own things.
“We need another one!” Mayday declares when you've completed the first snowman. “Short!”
“Like you?” You ask, trying to figure out how short.
“No, like you!” Mayday replies with a giggle as she begins to collect snow. And so, a second snowman is built before Mayday requests an even shorter snowman. Of course, Miguel and you oblige.
“Yay!” Mayday happily hugs the tallest snowman. “Uncle Miggle!” She then moves to the second tallest snowman. “Aunt Dulz!”
“Oh, that's supposed to be me” you say amused as Mayday hugs your snowwoman. “Is this you?” you ask, gesturing to the shortest snow person.
“Nope. It's my friend.”
“Your friend? Oh, what's their name?” Miguel asks, equally curious like you.
“Gabby!” Mayday answers with glee.
“Oh,” Miguel softly responds, his chest tightening at the mention of Gabriella by Mayday. It's the first time she’s ever said anything about Gabby and to be honest, Miguel didn't expect her to until much later. He expected that she'd eventually ask who the little girl in the picture frames at the penthouse is on a random day while you both babysat her, not on this winter getaway.
“Miguel,” you murmur softly, gaze softening at the mention of Gabby. “Are you okay?”
“Ye-Yes.” Miguel nods, trying to recover.
“She likes the snow!” Mayday announces before running to pick up more snow with Binx.
“She did,” Miguel breathes out. “She liked the snow. How did she know?”
“Kids…” You trail off, not knowing how Mayday knew of that fact. “They're far more sensitive than we are, and far more aware than we give them credit for.”
Nodding, Miguel watches Mayday continue to play in the snow with the others. After a minute or two, he tries to push the thought away for the remainder of the time in an attempt to enjoy himself and keep the mood light. He watches with a smile as the group has fun and eventually joins you in making snow angels just outside your shared cabin.
Gabby comes to mind yet again, however, when you’re all in the cabin’s kitchen baking cookies. Miguel was concentrated on the task at hand, but when he gazes at you and notes how patient and tender you’re being with Mayday as you teach her how to bake, Miguel can’t help but think about his daughter and how eager she would’ve been to bake with you. He imagines you would’ve been so sweet and patient with her, just the way you are with Mayday.
After baking and decorating cookies, everyone gathers in the living room to enjoy them and relax with the Christmas tree in sight.
All too soon, Miguel and you cook dinner while those who stay to dine with you entertain Mayday in the living room with coloring books. Once dinner is over and the kitchen is cleaned, you put on a Christmas movie while Miguel gathers the snacks, starting the final fun activity for Mayday. Of course, your friends were invited to stay and so they did, which results in a full living room with some people sitting on the floor.
Miguel and you, however, sit on the same couch next to each other and share snacks while the movie plays. You eventually note, close to the end, that Mayday has fallen asleep with Binx close to her chest, exhausted from the day out. A few minutes later, the credits begin to roll and one by one, your friends bid their goodbyes and wish you both a Merry Christmas before returning to their cabins.
“Should we put on another movie? We still have about half an hour before we drop off Mayday,” you say once it’s just the three of you.
“I’m personally… In the mood for Christmas movies, so I’d be happy to watch one more,” Miguel answers with a grin.
“Me, too! Alright, let’s see,” you say, looking to see what options there are. “This one sounds interesting. It says —” you begin but stop when you feel something small fall on you. “What was that?”
“Hm?” Miguel moves to see what fell on you before he feels something light hit his shoulder, too.
You both shift over and find small berries — mistletoe berries, to be exact.
“Berries…?” you say softly before you both look up in confusion only to find mistletoe hanging from the ceiling thanks to spider web and tied with a pretty satin red bow. “I… That wasn’t there before, was it?” you ask, slowly looking at Miguel.
“I think I would’ve noticed it,” Miguel answers. “But, I also didn’t see any of our friends do that, so…” Miguel looks at you, trailing off for a few seconds. “I have no idea how it got there.”
Meeting Miguel’s gaze, you nod in the dimly lit room. You suddenly become aware of the crackling flames from the fireplace and the scent of baking still present. “I don’t know either,” you answer softly, noticing Miguel’s crimson eyes and how they seem to shine because of the flames. You swallow softly, slowly smiling at him out of — something. Amusement? Shyness? Disbelief that you’re both under mistletoe again? A mixture of everything? You don’t know.
Gently, Miguel smiles, too. His gaze sweeps over your face, locking every detail into his memory the way you’d try to memorize every feature about a touching and beautiful work of art; how the fire’s flames cast light on your face, caressing you; the way your eyelashes frame your eyes; and how your eyes look at him with a glimmer in them.
Still smiling at each other, you both chuckle quietly.
“Well…” Miguel starts. “There’s mistletoe.”
“Again,” you say, exhaling softly.
“Again,” Miguel confirms, remembering you’ve now found yourselves under mistletoe twice. He’s also, unwillingly, reminded of that moment with Reilly earlier. Out of instinct, his hand closes into a fist just thinking about it, but he pushes the memory aside, not wanting that bad memory to taint this lighthearted moment.
“It’s everywhere,” you continue, amused, still staring at Miguel.
“It seems so,” he answers, gazing at you.
A few seconds pass and you’re both still staring at each other, unable to look away. Maybe it’s exhaustion, or something else, but you both begin to lean closer without realizing it. Your heads gradually move closer and closer, completely unaware of how the distance is growing shorter and shorter with every breath from your lungs. In that moment, even the crackling from the fireplace ceases and all you can both focus on is each other, almost in a trance.
“Hey, guys!”
Startled, Miguel and you turn to the front door, now fully open thanks to Peter, who has his arms high in the air to make an entrance. He freezes at the sight, eyes widen as Miguel and you stand up from the couch.
“Peter!” you start. “I thought we were dropping Mayday for you?”
“Ah…” Peter trails off, looking between you and Miguel, who is suddenly busy folding a blanket. “Yes, but Mary Jane and I literally decided, like two minutes ago, that it’d be better for me to pick her up since you guys have done so much for us today. I’m sorry if I startled you, that wasn’t my intention.” Peter says before he spots the mistletoe, it adding even more fuel to his thoughts. “Uh… Seems like I should’ve messaged you before showing up?”
“No, it’s okay,” Miguel says, now picking up an empty bowl that had popcorn earlier. “Some of the spider group, who stayed for dinner and a movie, just left.”
“Yeah, you missed them by like thirty seconds or so,” you add.
“Literally, like thirty seconds,” Miguel confirms, for some reason having the need to emphasize that you were both in company of others up until now. “We just finished watching the movie.”
“And Mayday has been asleep for about fifteen minutes or so. She’s exhausted form the day,” you continue.
“Uhuh, I can imagine,” Peter replies, slowly grinning. “I bet you guys had an exhausting yet fun day together.”
“We tried to. I think we succeeded,” you reply with a smile, feeling like you’re explaining yourself when there’s no reason to. Right?
“I would say so,” Miguel adds, coming to stand next to you. “By the way, you have a new family member besides Benjamin.”
“Oh?” Peter inquires simply.
“Binx,” you say, gesturing to the stuffed animal Mayday is still holding on to while sleeping.
“You guys bought her a reindeer plushie?”
“Miguel,” you clarify.
“Dulzura helped Mayday choose, so it was a team effort,” Miguel counters.
“Love the team work,” Peter replies with a full blown grin. “Well, I’ll go ahead and take Mayday, and let you guys rest for the remainder of the night. I imagine you’re both a bit tired after looking after a kid.” He walks past you two and approaches his daughter, picking her up effortlessly and cradling her along with Binx.
At the door, Miguel hands him Mayday’s backpack, too, finalizing the day. “You don’t need help?” Miguel asks.
“Thanks, pal, but I got it from here. You two continue on with your night,” Peter replies, stealing a glance at you and half smirking. “Enjoy the holidays. I’ll see you guys after Christmas at HQ.”
“Say hi to Mary Jane,” you state. “And again, if you guys need something — anything at all — let me know.”
“Yeah, please remember that,” Miguel says, scratching his neck. “We’re here. If we can help somehow, we’d be happy to.”
Smiling, Peter nods. “I know. Thank you, guys. We truly appreciate it. And, thank you for looking after Mayday and Mr. Binx, too.”
“It was a pleasure,” you answer with a smile.
“Any time,” Miguel replies.
“Thanks, guys! I’ll get going now. Have fun and continue to enjoy your vacation!” Peter calls out as he walks out of the cabin. “See you soon!” With his webs, he closes the door shut, leaving Miguel and you alone for the first time since this morning when you woke up in the same bed.
Alone, you both look around before the mistletoe catches your attention again.
The sight of it leaves the two of you rooted to the ground, next to each other. Moments ago, you were sitting beneath it having just learned of its existence and you were staring at each other, laughing about it. It was funny, you internally tell yourselves. Although there is the question of how it got there and by who, but as you both continue to stare at it, you discover that you don’t care to know. It’s harmless and innocent and it’s not like something happened, you tell yourselves, oblivious to that moment, where your heads were inching closer before Peter arrived.
A second later, you yawn softly out of exhaustion. “M’sorry, I guess I’m beginning to feel tired,” you start softly. “Should we quickly clean up and then head to sleep?”
Miguel nods, redirecting his attention from the mistletoe to you. “Yes, or if you wish to go to sleep already. I can clean up on my own.”
“I’m not leaving the cleaning to yourself,” you quickly answer. “We’ll get it done faster together.”
As always, the team effort goes smoothly. Miguel and you leave the living room and kitchen spotless, especially when you remember that tomorrow is your last day in the cabin.
A short while later, you walk into your bedroom donning pajamas. Rubbing hand lotion on your hands, you look up and find Miguel on the bed already. He’s leaning against the headboard while reading a book, lost in the words. Pausing a few steps in, you gaze at him respectfully, or at least you hope so anyway. Miguel’s shirtless once more, apparently not cold, and wearing sweatpants that sit at his waist.
Massaging the rest of your lotion into your skin, you look away and breathe out after seemingly holding your breath. For some reason…
At last, you approach the bed, noting that Miguel has already placed the covers in a way so you can easily slip in. You hum quietly when you’re under the same covers, finding that the bed is warm already, even though Miguel has probably only been on it for a few minutes. Regardless, you embrace the warmth and allow it to embrace you back as you get comfortable.
Next to you, Miguel uses his bookmark and closes the book before he puts it away on the nightstand. He yawns softly and looks down at you, taking note of your sleepy gaze.
“Good night, Dulzura,” he murmurs quietly to avoid startling you. “Sleep well.”
With a small and sleepy smile, you respond. “Good night, Migs. Sweet dreams.”
-♡-
Outside, the heavy snow falls off trees’ branches. Pine cones drop and decorate the ground. Somewhere, wildlife roams the beautiful land that is their home, leaving footprints of their strolls. A silence unknown to most cities is loud in this vast land; no helicopters roam above, no lousy cars speeding off, and there’s no sight or racket from bustling streets filled with beings.
There is silence, a peaceful kind, and with it, a heat.
It’s an inviting, blazing, and amicable heat. The kind you wish to bask in on a cold winter morning until noon. The kind of heat that grows from two individuals’ bodies laying so close together, it lulls you straight back to sleep.
It’s that heat Miguel and you are responsible for as you lay together under the same sheets. Your heads rest on the edge of your respective pillows; your faces merely separated by a few inches.
Slowly and comfortably, Miguel and you wake up at once. With a soft yawn here and a low murmur there, you both slowly open your sleepy eyes and simply embrace the moment. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re both very much still filled with sleep, or perhaps it’s due to something else entirely, but the two of you remain still.
Neither of you move an inch; not when you slowly realize your fingers are intertwined and that your faces are so close together, it would make people talk. Minutes pass and with each one, the more conscious you both become. You finally reach a point of awareness that makes you discover something else: the intimate tangle of your legs, with one of yours between Miguel’s.
It’s until then that it truly dawns on you; your unconscious disregard for Miguel’s physical boundaries. A second later, your eyes go wide. “Oh — Oh, I’m so sorry,” you suddenly say, speaking for the first time today. You quickly move your leg away and remove your hand from Miguel’s before scooting away. “I’m so sorry. I just realized.”
With your sudden and too soon departure from him, Miguel sits up and shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It’s alright,” he answers, his voice deep from just waking up. “People can’t help what they do while they’re sleeping,” Miguel reassures you, curling his fingers into his palm, the ones that were intertwined with yours just now. He exhales softly, feeling the loss of your warmth and touch instantly, and wishing there had been a warning to prepare himself for it.
“I — I know, but still,” you respond, covering your face with your hands because you feel hot in the face out of embarrassment and regret. “I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable.”
“Dulzura,” Miguel starts, waiting for you to lower your hands so he can see your face. “Dulzura,” he calls again, much more gentler, when you continue to hide behind your hands. “Can you look at me, please?”
Slowly, you lower your hands when you hear the gentle pleading of his voice. “Yes?”
Miguel smiles, lazily. “Don’t worry about it, please.”
“Your boundaries are —” you start.
“Fine,” Miguel gently interrupts. “I’m fine. You seem to have forgotten that my hand was also there, with yours,” he says, pausing when he admits that, feeling an extra warmth rush to his cheeks. “And, my legs were also, you know, tangled with yours, so… I think it’s safe to say, I was more than comfortable,” Miguel admits softly. “So, don’t worry on my behalf. Or, about my boundaries. Please.”
“I…” you trail off, staring at him to gauge his reaction, to see if he’s truly not upset about the unconscious physical touch. With each second, you realize he’s truly okay with it. Miguel was and is comfortable with the much more intimate touching. You nod and give him a small yet sheepish smile after a few seconds. “Alright. Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” Miguel answers, smiling back. “You’re… Always so considerate. So much, that sometimes you stress yourself too much, Dulzura. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as considerate and respectful as you, you know?”
Smiling slightly, you shrug and look away. “It’s the least anyone can do, to be respectful.”
“And yet, there are some people who lack such quality, so thank you,” Miguel continues before his expression turns more serious. “But, just because I’m alright with it, doesn’t mean I expect you to.”
“Wha—What?” you ask softly, noticing the way he’s serious now when it comes to your comfort.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable at all. I know yesterday I also—” Miguel starts.
“I’m alright, too, Miguel,” you say, interrupting him now. “I was worried about you. I’m… Personally alright.”
Miguel nods, visibly relaxing when he hears the honesty in your tone. He slowly smiles. “I’m glad we can talk like this.”
You tilt your head slightly. “Talk like this?”
“That I’m able to communicate with you better than I used to,” Miguel explains.
“I’m glad you do, too,” you answer, recalling how Miguel kept a lot to himself in previous years, but how with time, he’s slowly opened up to you.
“Something else to thank you for,” he says, still smiling at you. Staring at you, Miguel thinks about that for a few seconds and how he’d have pages full of reasons to thank you for. He hums and slowly gets out of bed, deciding to start the day. “Now, since we’ve discussed that, let’s discuss something else. It’s our last day here and we leave by noon. How about we go get breakfast at the diner before we head home?”
“That sounds like a great way to end our trip,” you answer, kicking off the covers and climbing out of bed with a clear conscious.
After getting ready, Miguel and you decide to do a few things before heading out. You both pack your bags and make sure all the rooms are tidy, leaving them the way they were before you arrived. Fortunately, the broken bed won’t be an issue with the owners since Miguel notified them yesterday at some point, and they admitted they had noticed strange noises coming from it during cleaning. So, he was assured no charges would be added since it was an issue on their end.
Eventually, the two of you make it back to the same diner from yesterday and have a lovely breakfast together whilst enjoying the over the top Christmas vibes from the village.
“I got something sticky on my hand,” you say softly when you’re both done eating.
“Could it be that shiny thing you have on your lips?” Miguel asks since he noticed that you applied something glossy today.
“It’s a lip oil, meant to hydrate my lips due to the weather,” you answer with a smile, amused that Miguel has called it a ‘shiny thing’.
“Right. Lip oil,” Miguel answers, storing that away in his mind because it’s related to you. “It looks pretty on you.”
“Thank you,” you reply with a shy smile. “But it’s not that, it’s something else.”
“Maybe it was from passing me the salt and pepper,” Miguel says, thinking about earlier when his eggs needed a little more seasoning. “It felt weird when you handed it to me. Too many people touch it.” At that, you make a playful little face and mouth ‘yuck’, which makes Miguel laugh. “You should go wash your hands. I’ll pay and then go wash mine before we head out.”
“Alright, I’ll be quick,” you say, slipping out of the booth and heading to the restrooms, remembering the way from yesterday.
After seeing you make it to the restroom, Miguel heads to the register to pay. It doesn’t take him very long, considering there’s no line of customers, so he’s soon headed to the restroom to wash his hands. A minute later, he walks out and spots Ben Reilly leave your side and head his way, to the restrooms. For an unknown reason, Miguel gets a bad feeling, which only grows when he notices Ben wipe his mouth.
“Miguel, hey,” Reilly greets him as he reaches the restroom area.
“Hey, Ben,” Miguel answers, staring a little too closely at Reilly. It’s that, however, which allows Miguel to notice that Reilly has something shiny around his mouth. Something like a lip gloss, or a lip oil. Miguel swallows, his hands curling into fists at his sides at the sight. “Doing well?” he asks.
“Yeah, today has been a great day so far,” Reilly answers, briefly looking over his shoulder before facing Miguel again with a grin.
“That’s great. Glad to hear it,” Miguel responds, wondering why Reilly’s grin irritates him so much suddenly. He wishes he could wipe it off.
“I hope you’re doing well, too,” Reilly says, still grinning.
“I am, thank you,” Miguel replies without a smile on his face. “The past few days have been great with Dulzura, that’s my nickname for Y/N,” Miguel clarifies with a little smirk. “And with our other friends. We’re going home today to celebrate Christmas, but we definitely enjoyed our stay. This place is great,” he adds for some reason, noticing the grin disappear off Reilly’s face. Finally.
“Oh. You guys are going home,” Reilly says, clearing his throat. “To celebrate Christmas together. That’s great. So great for you guys... Well, I’m glad you enjoyed your stay. Happy Holidays to you.”
“Happy Holidays to you, too,” Miguel replies with a nod, watching Reilly slip inside the restroom with a frown on his face after wearing that frustrating grin. He huffs, annoyed with Reilly before he walks straight to you, thinking about the shiny stuff on his face. He pushes the thought away, but it comes back to him when he spots you reapplying your lip product, and mistletoe hanging from the ceiling just a few feet away from you. A sinking feeling washes over Miguel as he unwillingly connects those two facts with Ben and the shiny stuff on his face.
“Hey, you took a moment there. You alright?” you ask when you notice him, putting away the lip product into your pocket.
“… Yes,” Miguel answers, inhaling deeply and trying not to think too much about the reason why you just reapplied the product to your lips.
“I ran into Ben and what’s her name,” you start as you both exit the diner. “Everyone calls her Spider-Canada.”
“Spider…” Miguel trails off, not remembering her name in this moment. “Yeah, Spider-Canada. She was here, too?”
“Yes. Her and Ben were having breakfast. I ran into them while waiting for you.”
“Oh, that’s good for them,” he answers, swallowing. He glances your way as you both walk back to the cabin, noticing that you seem relaxed, a little too much, despite what may have just happened between you and Ben. He wants to ask and yet, at the same time, he doesn’t. What if you kissed and it was non-consensual from you? What if Ben disrespected you? He wants to know if Reilly has done that, but at the same time he doesn’t because he’d be upset.
He’d be upset that Ben disrespected you like that.
That’s the only reason he’d be upset; the sole reason for the sinking feeling Miguel carries with him all the way to the cabin.
Right?
Despite his curiosity, Miguel doesn’t dare to ask if something did happen. Not even when you’re both back home in Nueva York and done making plans regarding the cooking for Christmas Eve.
-♡-Christmas Eve-♡-
On the first morning back to Nueva York, Miguel surprises you with pancakes and other sides like fruit for breakfast. You both enjoy the meal at the dining table while talking, though you can sense that something has been on Miguel’s mind since yesterday right before you left the other universe. It made you wonder if Miguel had changed his mind and wanted to stay longer at the cabin, but when you asked if he was unhappy to leave, he answered no and seemed to mean it.
The rest of the day went smoothly once you arrived home, but still, you could tell something was, and still is, bothering Miguel. With the day ahead, you decide to give Miguel space regarding the matter, especially when he seems his normal self when he’s engaging with you or cooking. You figure he will share with you whatever is on his mind, at his own time.
At around noon, Miguel and you launch into action and begin prepping for the festive dinner.
Tamales with different fillings, and pozole [hominy] are cooked. Fruit is chopped and the dry ingredients are gathered for the ponche before it's all added to a pot with water to boil [hot fruit punch]. The champurrado is carefully prepared by Miguel, who tells you about his mom’s recipe [Mexican beverage]. Buñuelos [fried dough fritter]are also made, filling the kitchen with the sweet scent of piloncillo syrup [a type of cane sugar]. Since it’s one of your favorites, Miguel also cooks tinga with your help [Mexican dish]. For another dessert, you bake one of Miguel’s favorite cakes.
Hours later, you’ve both showered and dressed in more appropriate clothes for dinner to celebrate Christmas. With happy and joyous Christmas music playing from Miguel’s record player from the living room and the table set, you have dinner together, officially making it the third year you’ve done so.
Thinking about that, you chuckle at yourself and how nervous you were that first year.
“What’s so funny?” Miguel inquires with a raised eyebrow and a soft smile.
“I was thinking about the very first time I came here — to your home,” you answer, grabbing your glass and drinking. “I don’t know if you knew, but I was nervous about coming here.”
“I could tell,” Miguel responds, lowering his fork and recalling that moment from three years ago. He smiles fondly at you, feeling tenderness for you. Who would’ve thought that you’d be here three years later, having dinner with him again? Miguel clears his throat, suddenly feeling a knot begin to form. “When Lyla told me that you had been sent to deliver food and asking about my whereabouts, she mentioned you looked nervous. And, when you arrived, I could tell. You apologized for coming here before you explained that the Morales’s had sent food with you.”
You smile slowly and nod. “I was the chosen one. For some reason.”
“And I’m… I’m thankful you were,” Miguel softly answers. “I’m thankful you came that night and that you accepted my invitation for dinner. That was the first year I celebrated the holidays here in my universe after not doing so for many years. It was the first time I wasn’t alone on those days since Gabriel passed away. It meant, and still continues to mean, so much to me.”
You look away, feeling your eyes water. After clearing your throat, you look up and nod. “It meant so much to me that you invited me to stay. That you showed me the holographic tree and how holographic ornaments are designed. And, how you invited me the next day for the recalentado,” you answer [Mexican/Latin tradition].
Miguel smiles. “And we’ve kept it a tradition, haven’t we?” he whispers, a tear slipping down his face.
“We have,” you whisper back, a tear of your own running down your cheek.
“Don’t cry, Dulzura,” Miguel whispers, reaching over the table and offering your special gesture; his pinky finger. When you wrap yours around his without any doubt or questions, Miguel reciprocates. “Please, seeing you cry, makes me want to cry.”
“Sorry,” you whisper, wiping your eyes with your free hand, but a few more tears roll down your face out of nostalgia. Things have changed since that night three years ago, for the better.
“I know,” Miguel murmurs, raising his free hand to your face to gently wipe the tears away. He clears his throat, another tear slipping out of his eye. “We've come a long way.” He smiles again, thinking about three years ago. So much has happened and changed since then. He's smiled, laughed, and cried with you. He's made memories he'll carry, cherish, and protect for the rest of his life.
When he thought he was meant to be alone, in walked someone who didn't give up on him; someone who has had the patience of a saint with him; and someone who extended their hand and kept it offered until he was ready to accept it, or at least, a pinky finger.
“We really have. Three years later and we're here,” you answer. Three years ago, you visited the penthouse for the first time and now, you have a bedroom upstairs. There are reminders and personal touches of yours all throughout the space, like the gallery wall in the living room and the mugs from your universe in the kitchen cupboards. “Thank you for trusting me,” you murmur.
“Thank you for not giving up on me,” Miguel murmurs back.
With a tender smile, you respond. “Never.” You smile at each other, tears still brimming in your eyes. “Let’s finish dinner. Everything, as always, turned out so delicious. And we still have the Christmas show to watch, don’t we?” you ask excitedly, trying to lighten up the mood.
“We do. It’ll start in a few hours.”
“I wonder if you’ll be part of it again,” you answer, making Miguel chuckle.
“Maybe. I’d be surprised if I am for a second year in a row,” Miguel answers, noticing your pinkies are still attached. “Either way, I hope you enjoy it.”
“I’m certain I will,” you answer, giving Miguel’s pinky a squeeze before slowly and reluctantly releasing his finger.
“You up for tinga?” Miguel asks, following your attempt to lighten the mood.
With no more tears shed, you continue to have dinner and enjoy the amazing food you both cooked. After the Christmas holographic show, which did include Miguel once more, you find yourselves in the living room, your usual hangout place. Sitting on the ground, you stare at the Christmas tree’s lights, admiring the beautiful tree and feeling the Christmas spirit. You’ve been talking about your short vacation, recalling each moment from the ice skating to the snowball fight you had with the spider gang.
It’s all lighthearted and fun, but of course, talking about the trip reminds Miguel of the whole thing with Ben from yesterday — about whether you kissed. Miguel has tried his best not to think about it and he’s been successful, or so he thinks, but the thought has come back thanks to the conversation.
And he must know.
Did Ben kiss you?
“Dulzura,” Miguel starts, trying to find the right words. “I know you’re a strong woman. That you can take care of yourself and have no need for someone to physically help you, but…”
“What is it, Miguel?” you ask, curious as to where this is going. One moment you’re talking about the trip and now the conversation has shifted to something completely different and unexpected.
“You would tell me, even if you can take care of yourself, if someone… Took advantage of your kindness, right?”
“Wh— What do you mean?” you ask, confused. With furrowed eyebrows, you shift your body to face and look at Miguel better.
“If someone… If someone was to take liberties with you,” Miguel answers, unsure if he’s using the right words or if he sounds crazy right now. “Like, kissing you without your consent.”
That makes you raise an eyebrow. Where is this coming from? You nod regardless. “I… Yes, I would if that happened. I would confide in you if such situation took place.” You blink a few times, still trying to understand why Miguel has brought this up.
“If that happened,” Miguel repeats, now uncertain if Ben did anything at all, or if he did but with your full consent.
“Why are you asking me this?” you inquire.
Miguel sighs, running a hand through his hair and deciding to be honest. “I ran into Ben at the diner yesterday, too. At the restrooms. I noticed he had something like lip gloss on his mouth and then, when I went back to you, you were reapplying your lip oil. I also noticed there was mistletoe near you, so… I couldn’t help but think that you guys…” Miguel says, trailing off.
“Kissed,” you finish, everything clicking in your head with Miguel’s confession. “No, we didn’t.”
“Oh,” Miguel replies, relief running through his body. “I was worried he had and that it hadn’t been with your consent,” Miguel continues, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Ben can be… A little clueless sometimes, and impulsive. So, I was worried he had kissed you in the name of mistletoe without your permission.”
Suddenly, you realize this is what has been bothering Miguel all along since yesterday. You smile and shake your head, understanding now where Miguel is coming from, and feeling something warm and fuzzy bloom in your chest at the fact that Miguel has been worried about you being in an uncomfortable position due to a man.
“He didn’t kiss me, but he did kiss Spider-Canada. I still can’t remember her name,” you pause, frowning and trying to remember. “I was under the mistletoe with him at some point and he was just about to tell me about it when I stepped away to look for you. When I looked back at them, Spider-Canada was already next to Ben, right under the mistletoe, so they kissed once they gave each other clearance to do so. She was wearing lip gloss, or something of the sort, which Ben tried to wipe off, but he ended up spreading it all over instead. That’s when he excused himself to go to the restroom.”
“I see,” Miguel answers, smiling slowly and finding the situation somewhat funny now, though Ben’s attitude still seems a bit annoying to him. “I’m glad it was consensual,” he continues, telling himself that he’d be saying the same thing, even if it was you in Spider-Canada’s place.
“Me, too. So yeah, no kisses for me.” You chuckle. “Except you know…”
Miguel raises an eyebrow, wondering if he missed something along the way.
“The one you and I…” you say, trailing off.
“Ah, yes, yes,” Miguel answers shyly, his cheeks feeling warmer suddenly. “Just that one.”
“But thank you for thinking about me,” you continue. “I appreciate your concern.” You sigh softly. “And I would’ve told you if something like that happened to me. You’re my… Best friend, after all.”
“And you’re mine,” Miguel answers with a small smile. “I’m glad you’d feel comfortable sharing that kind of situation with me. I know you can take care of yourself, but still. I would — I would defend and stand up for you, or stand next to you and help when you request aid. Whichever way you prefer, I’ll be here for you. Always.”
“Same goes to you,” you reply, touched by his words. “Always.”
Smiling, Miguel sighs. He’s glad that he finally asked you about the situation and relieved that nothing happened. For your safety and well being, of course! With that out of his mind, he thinks about the trip again and how much he enjoyed getting away with you, even if it was just for a few days. “Can we do this again next year?” Miguel asks. “Take a getaway trip, and then come back and celebrate Christmas at home?”
“If you'll have me and I'm still around, it's a yes from me,” you answer, staring at the lights.
“I'll have you,” Miguel quickly responds, holding back from saying that he’ll have you every Christmas, every single one until his last one, if you allow him to. “So, you better be here.”
You laugh softly and turn to face Miguel, smiling. “I'll do my absolute best to be here.”
“Good,” he answers, turning to face you, too. “Or, I’ll go and find you. Wherever you are.”
Chuckling, you continue to stare at Miguel. “Likewise, solecito [little sun].”
At the nickname, Miguel feels his cheeks grow warm. It’s been over a month since you gave him the new nickname and since then, you’ve used it a few times here and there, but no matter how many times you’ve said it, Miguel still feels over the moon each and every time he's heard it. He smiles at you, a fuzzy and fluttering ****feeling stirring in his chest. It's familiar, yet somehow it’s stronger here in this moment.
“Should we… Stay here and maybe watch a movie?” you ask, gesturing to the living room that looks absolutely cozy and magical due to the decorations.
“If you want to,” Miguel answers. “I don’t mind. Staying, that is.”
“Hmm,” you hum, thinking. “I wouldn’t mind either.”
“It’s settled, then,” he states. “I’ll be right back. Wait for me here.”
You watch Miguel stand up, wondering where he’s going, but you don’t have to wonder for long because two minutes later, Miguel comes back from upstairs with pillows and blankets. Smiling, you help set up since you’ll be spending the night in the living room, together.
Once settled, and after you've completed your night routines, Miguel and you decide on a movie to watch, but an hour later, you've both fallen asleep next to each other.
-♡-Christmas Day-♡-
Snowflakes swirl down from the sky, adding to the already thick white blanket that covers the city of Nueva York. Inside the penthouse, the fireplace is still on, keeping the space warm and toasty. The Christmas tree and other festive decorations are still on, creating a lovely and welcoming ambiance. Everything looks the same, except for the gifts beneath the Christmas tree that were left during the night by each of you at different times.
“It’s Christmas time!”
Miguel and you startle awake by the loud voice of… Lyla, of course.
“What time is it?” you sleepily ask, rubbing one of your eyes.
“You didn’t have to startle us like that,” Miguel grumpily and sleepily says, sitting up with a huff.
“But it’s Christmas time! All the families in Nueva York are waking up right now, so you guys should, too!” Lyla eagerly says. “Plus, I really want to see what you got each other for Christmas. It was soooo cute seeing you guys wake up in the middle of the night to put your gifts under the tree. Like, so adorable. I took photos, of course.”
“Lyla,” you mutter. “Please tell me you didn’t because I’m sure we probably don’t look good in them.”
“Yeah, that’s unfortunately the truth. You guys look like you’re sneaking around, which I guess you were to avoid waking each other up? But anyway… Open the gifts!”
“I think we both need coffee first,” Miguel says looking at you rub away the sleep from your eyes, looking so sweet and endearing.
“Mhm,” you confirm. “A cup. Or, two.”
Miguel chuckles deeply before he yawns. “I’ll make it for us. If you want to lay down for a few more minutes, go ahead. I’ll bring it over here once it’s done.”
“Are you sure?” you ask, looking up at Miguel as he stands up.
“I’m sure, Dulzura,” Miguel answers, looking down at you with a soft and sleepy smile. “I’ll get it.”
You nod and watch him head to the kitchen to make the coffee. With a yawn, you lay back down and close your eyes.
“Isn’t he so sweet?”
You open your eyes again, finding Lyla laying on her stomach in mid-air next to you. “What?” you ask, sleepily.
“Miguel. Isn’t he so sweet? Letting you sleep a few more minutes while he makes coffee for the two of you?”
“Yes,” you answer, nodding. “It’s very sweet of him.”
“I think he’d make a great husband,” Lyla continues, smiling. “Don’t you think?”
“He would,” you respond, sleep fading away due to the conversation. “He really would.”
“That’s what I’m saying. If he ever marries, that woman will be lucky,” she continues, raising an eyebrow at you.
“She would,” you answer, slowly sitting up again.
“Anywayyyy,” Lyla continues, checking her nails before glancing at you. “Something I thought about just now. Well, my duty here is done. I’ve woken you two up.”
“I thought you wanted to see what we gifted each other—” you say, but are interrupted by Lyla.
“I see everything, unless deactivated, so no worries. Merry Christmas,” Lyla says with a little smirk before disappearing.
After a few seconds of silence, you sigh and shake your head, putting thoughts of Miguel marrying away. You glance at the windows, noticing the falling snow. With a smile, you stand up and walk to the windows to take a closer look, finding everything covered in snow.
“Una blanca Navidad [a white Christmas],” Miguel states from behind you, finding you in front of the windows. He pauses for a moment to take in the sight of you before approaching.
“A white Christmas,” you repeat with a smile, accepting a mug when Miguel offers you one. “Thank you for the coffee.”
“Always,” he answers. “We definitely need it since someone rudely woke us up. Wait — where's Lyla?”
“She's already gone. She said she can see everything unless deactivated.”
“Lyla,” Miguel mutters, shaking his head before drinking from his mug. He turns to gaze at you again, smiling when he remembers. “Want to open the gifts?”
“Yeah, why not?” you answer with a smile, gesturing to the tree.
With your mugs, you both approach the tree and carefully sit down on the ground.
“Alright, let me see which one I want to give you first,” Miguel says, looking at his carefully wrapped gifts. He picks up a box and hands it to you. “Let’s start with this one.”
“And you with this one,” you answer, accepting his gift to you and handing him his from you. Looking at the box, you smile when you see ‘Dulzura’ written in Miguel’s neat handwriting on a name tag, along with a cute bow.
Together, you unwrap the first gifts together, revealing new music records for each other.
“Seems like we had the same idea,” you say, looking at the different artists’ names.
“Great minds think alike,” Miguel answers with a soft smirk, thankful for your gift. “Thank you for the new records. I’m more than ready to listen to them.”
“Always. I hope you like them,” you respond with a smile. “Thank you for mine, too. I have no doubt I’m going to enjoy them.”
With a grin, Miguel nods and hands you another box. “I hope you do. I went back to the record store you took me to on my birthday. Mr. Stanley asked about you,” he says, accepting another gift box from you. “He asked where… Um.” Miguel pauses as he gently begins to unwrap the box. “Where I left my girlfriend at.”
“He asked me where I left you at, too,” you reveal with a chuckle. “I went earlier this month to pick up a few things from his store.”
“I did, too,” Miguel shares with a smile. “Told him I was picking up some gifts.”
Finally opening the gifts, and being completely fine with the fact that you’ve both casually accepted someone’s assumption of a romantic relationship between you, you both pull out sweatshirts.
“Hey!” Miguel says with excitement as he unfolds the sweatshirt to see the full design, revealing Spider-Woman merch from your universe. “Merch of my favorite Spider-Woman,” he says with a smile. “I love the design and how soft it is.”
Unfolding yours, you find that the sweatshirt is also merch of Miguel with Spider-Man 2099 on it. “And I got my own of Spider-Man 2099. How did you know I’m a big fan of him?” you playfully ask.
“I had a guess,” Miguel answers with a soft smirk. “I hope you like the design and color though. If you don’t, we can return this one and get another one.”
“No, no, I love it! Thank you, Migs,” you reply, touching the fabric. “You’ll be seeing me wearing it often, that’s for sure.”
After exchanging a few more gifts like books, cute fuzzy socks and pajamas with one of your favorite characters on them for you, and a tool set for Miguel among other gifts, Miguel and you each have a box left.
“Here,” Miguel gently says, offering his gift, the most vulnerable of all. “I hope you like it.”
“For you,” you respond, handing him your last gift for him.
At the same time, you accept each other’s final gifts and begin to open them. From the size alone, it seems that whatever you've gifted each other is small and delicate. When the paper is off, jewelry boxes are revealed, making you both look up at each other with equal surprise and amusement. The latter fades, however, when you each open the box and find a similar, if not the exact, gift.
Carefully, you take the bracelet out of the box to admire it. Much like the one you’re giving Miguel, the bracelet is simple except for a single knot in the middle.
“We got each other the same thing,” Miguel states softly in astonishment. With gentleness, he takes it out of the box before looking at you. “Well, mine is meant as a matching…”
“Matching bracelet,” you finish, pulling out the one meant for you out of a pocket from your pajamas's bottom. Your plan was to surprise Miguel with matching bracelets before wearing your own.
“You…?” Miguel starts before he pulls out a bracelet from his sweatpants’s pocket, having the same plan as you. “I got mine from here — this universe, I mean.”
“And I got mine from my own,” you answer in awe.
Silently, you slip on the bracelets you already had, the ones meant for yourselves, before slipping on the ones you’ve gifted each other. Seconds later, you extend your hand out and so does Miguel, your wrists side by side now wearing two bracelets that are fairly similar except for the thickness.
Miguel chuckles as he continues to stare at both your wrists, finding it amusing yet again, but mostly endearing. “What a coincidence,” he murmurs, that of everything you could’ve gifted each other, you both went for matching bracelets. And not only that, the matching bracelets are the same in design with its single yet elegant knot.
“Truly,” you answer with a smile. “But I love the gift regardless. Thank you, Miguel.”
“Always,” Miguel replies, still smiling, before he thanks you for his.
“Merry Christmas,” you tell him.
“Feliz Navidad, Dulzura [Merry Christmas],” Miguel responds with a smile. “Do you want to have breakfast now? I can cook something for us and then, we can put together the puzzle I gifted you. Seems like it’ll keep us busy.”
“That sounds like a wonderful plan,” you answer, picking up the puzzle he gave you. You stare at the picture on the front, admiring it since it’s a pretty puzzle of flying butterflies colored in a way that makes it look vintage. “I’ll help you!” you offer, standing up eagerly to have breakfast with Miguel.
The two of you walk to the kitchen together, the matching bracelets safe around your wrists.
“Wait, really?” Lyla asks, appearing near the tree and watching you enter the kitchen. “You guys didn’t even ask about the knot and the significance.” She huffs. “You’ll figure it out sooner or later, I guess. Hopefully, sooner rather than later, though,” she says with a smirk before disappearing again.
You spend the rest of the day together in the comfort of the penthouse, the very same place Miguel once found cold and desolate, but now feels like home because of you. Time is spent on the puzzle, café de olla is drank, and amazing food is reheated and eaten. Talks about New Year’s Eve comes up with both Miguel and you looking forward to it and knowing that no matter where you spend it, you’ll be together to welcome the new year and everything it has to offer; adventures, personal growth, laughs, special moments, and memories to cherish for years to come.
And perhaps, Miguel thinks to himself later that night as he lays in bed alone while playing with his bracelets, the year to come will be the year he finally says goodbye to those physical boundaries of his.
Miguel rolls on his side, facing the empty spot next to him. Mindlessly, he caresses the cold and empty spot with his hand before his fingers find your sweatshirt, tugging it closer almost instantly. Miguel sighs and closes his eyes, your scent much closer now. For a few seconds, he remains like that before he grabs a pillow to slip your sweatshirt onto. At last, Miguel pulls the pillow close, to his chest, and hugs it.
Embracing the pillow, Miguel thinks about you sleeping in the next room, so close but much farther away than the last few days at the cabin.
Miguel sighs again and hugs the pillow closer, wondering. Could this upcoming year, be the year he finally crosses that final line when it comes to his physical boundaries with you?
The mere idea of it makes his heart race, but not out of anxiety like in previous years before you, when people tried touching him to offer comfort. No, Miguel’s heart races out of excitement at the possibility. It’d be so much progress for him, and Miguel knows it. It’d be another step forward in his healing journey.
And… It would also mean, that at some point, at last, Miguel might finally be ready for something you’ve been ready for a while. He recalls now, how nearly a year ago, you made that clear to him with a sudden confession made out of exhaustion.
It was the day your apartment complex caught on fire. You were already here at the penthouse, showered and free of the smell of smoke, but you were exhausted after hours of helping tenants evacuate the building, and Miguel could see it. He made you breakfast so you could eat something before you went to sleep and it was afterwards, when you were going upstairs to the bedroom, that you stopped at the doorway of the kitchen and dining area.
He wondered then if something was wrong before you thanked him for his kindness and the fact that he had respected your choice of declining backup. You thanked him for helping you transport your belongings to this dimension and for offering his home. And then, you said something that Miguel knows you would’ve kept to yourself had you not been so tired.
“… offering me to stay here and trying to make me feel at home,” you said that day, your voice wavering. “It means so much to me and I wish — I wish I could give you a hug — a really tight one — just to emphasize with more than words — how much it means to me.”
That confession, made out of your exhaustion, messed with Miguel so much. He remembers the effect it had on him after you apologized for revealing it. He wondered then, what would it be like to embrace and be embraced by you? To feel your warmth? His hands itched to touch and before he knew it, he was rushing upstairs, but he found you already fast asleep and that rush calmed at the sight of you peacefully resting at last, in his home.
It stayed with him, that confession. And it had such an impact on him that day, that Miguel made his special gesture for the first time ever.
The pinky hug.
Miguel swallows, holding the pillow wrapped in your sweatshirt. You expressed that day your wish to embrace him, meaning you've been ready for it.
But is Miguel ready, too?
Miguel asks himself that before he surrenders to his sleep, lulled by your lovely and familiar scent. Somewhere in his slumber, he murmurs something.
“Yes.”
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A/N: hiii my lovely pookies!!
Very quickly (because if you read this far, I've already taken an hour or so of your time), I want to say thank you for reading yet another chapter! This is now the second Christmas I’ve spent writing this fic, which is insane, actually. I know I probably sound like a broken record (I’m an emotional/sensitive person, so I just, yeah 🥲), but anyway, thank you so much if you’ve stuck around to read this fic that was meant to be 4 chapters, and for spending another year with me! For those who joined this year, thank you, too! 🥹❤️
I look at where this story is now and I find it unbelievable, yet so fulfilling. I have written many things over the years from fanfic for other fandoms to personal works since I was about 14yrs (wait, the way I started this fic when I was 24, and I'm now 26...? 😭), but to this day, this is by far my top favorite project.
A big reason for that is due to you lovely readers! I'm incredibly thankful that so many of you are still reading this fic despite the slow and/or super long updates sometimes; the slow and torturous slowburn that this fic is; and the lack of romantic and physical love right now that often repels/discourages many readers because of the need for instant spice.
So, thank you for supporting this fic! It has been a privilege to be here and to share my writing. I look forward, God willing, to completing this fic in 2025 and giving it a satisfying and well deserved ending, which will most definitely make me sob my eyes out, but in a happy way ((:
To conclude, thank you for your kindness and love, and for being a safe space for me!! Also, Happy New Year!! I hope that this year treats you with love, kindness, and patience, and that you experience nothing but great things!!
I love you all!! Pls take care and I'll hopefully see you for the next chapter! 💕💖🥹
Alondra❤️
p.s. how normal are Miguel and Dulzura about each other? 😅 And what do we think about Miguel's thoughts at the end? 😌
Taglist:
@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick
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Bonus Message ... because I meant to write this on an earlier chapter, but since I posted the last 3 chapters in a weekend (oh, who is she?), I forgot to. A lovely new reader caught some symbolism I was really excited about in chapter 18 (beach episode) regarding the mention of butterflies and birds, and since I mentioned butterflies in this chapter, I figured it would be ok to mention it here, too.
As some of you may recall, both Miguel and Dulzura have had encounters with birds when they're at the cemetery. As one reader guessed in the past, these birds represent Gabriel and Peter (Dulzura's Peter), visiting and listening to them.
In chapter 18, Dulzura visited Peter's grave with Miguel, and they both saw a bird (same color as before for her) before it fluttered its wings and flew off.
After doing little research, birds can oftentimes represent freedom and spirituality. Due to that, I decided to convey Gabriel and Peter's spirits/souls through birds. In the end, this bird (Peter) fluttered its wings and flew off after chirping for a bit and staring at M and D, symbolizing Peter's true departure. Why? Up to that point, Dulzura had always gone to the cemetery alone, but that day, Miguel went with her and formally 'met' Peter. The happy chirping for M and D before the bird flew away symbolized his happiness, approval, and acceptance of them -- allowing Peter to fully move on knowing Dulzura is in good hands 🥺
As to the butterflies that flew over Peter's grave as M and D were walking away, these symbolize M and D. Butterflies symbolize rebirth, personal growth, transformations, new beginnings, etc. M and D are individuals who have gone through a rebirth after the losses and pain they have experienced. Together, they're forming a new beginning/life.
As to the puzzle in that chapter that they put together while discussing the possibility of love and having children, it symbolizes them piecing a future together.
And that's it! Thank you for reading that, if you did. I was really excited about the symbolism in that chapter just to forget about it lmao💀😭
#in the words of mariah carey: SHE'S HEREEEEE 🗣🗣🗣#last two quarters were fueled by the power of Miguel's tamales and ponche 😌🙏🏼#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara imagine#atsv x reader#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara fanfiction#spiderman 2099#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#nonviolent communication#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara slowburn#soft miguel o'hara
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Who’s the bad influence? Pt. 4
Rafe Cameron x reader series
Authors note: this is the fourth part of the series, here's the link to my masterlist.
Warnings: I'm sorry I know this one is short will update again soon I promise
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“He can just be such a prick!” I exclaimed, pacing back and forth, “I can’t believe he told them.” I say, “he said he wouldn’t,” looking up and blinking my eyes hard to fight any brewing tears.
Rafe had pulled me through a side door of the club, one that was far away from my family and any other members who might hear me. The only person around was an employee standing by the door who was minding their own business.
I dragged my hands down my face, crouching down and tucking my knees into my chest to try to calm myself.
Rafe was leaned against the wall, watching me in silence.
I unsuccessfully blink away my tears, and one falls down my face before I can stop it.
I use the bottom of my shirt to dry my eyes, trying to stop any more from falling. I look up from my place on the ground for a moment to see Rafe saying something to the employee. I keep watching and I see the employee nod and walk inside, leaving us alone.
I look up at him, trying not to let any more tears fall. “They’re going to be so mean to me, Rafe. My parents.”
He walks over to me, crouching down in front of me and pulls my hands away from my face. Without a word he pulls the end of his own shirt and wipes my face where my tears had fallen.
My tears cease and I watch as he tenderly takes my hands in his and looks into my eyes. “Listen, Y/N,” he says, his voice low, “Top is just trying to look out for you, okay? He cares about you. You’re his little sister. He doesn’t want you being influenced by those losers.”
I pull my hands away, standing up and shaking my head, “Not helping, Rafe.”
He stands and tries to meet my eyes again, but I look away, “As for your parents- don’t listen to ‘em, okay?” I continue to avoid eye contact, but he gently reaches for my cheek and turns my head to look into his eyes.
“I know a thing or two about bad parenting.” He mumbles, “It’s not worth it to let them make you feel like shit. Okay? You’re a good person.” He says, looking into my eyes.
My heart beats quickly at our proximity, and I nod, feeling the softness of his hand on my cheek. I look up at him, shocked that anyone can genuinely see this boy as a bad person.
I break eye contact, looking down at his chest- realizing that this is my best friend’s brother, and my brother’s best friend- and suddenly feeling a twinge of discomfort. “I’ll try. Thanks, Rafe.”
He nods, removing his hand from my cheek and taking a step back.
I take a couple deep breaths, trying to compose myself before we go back to our table. I straighten my shirt and run a hand through my hair, looking back up at Rafe who was already looking at me.
“Do I look like I’ve just been crying?” I ask, running a finger under my eyes one last time to make sure I am decent.
He cracked a smile, “Never looked better, Thornton.”
I blush lightly, walking over to the door to enter the club again, but I quickly turn around to face him again.
He looks down at me with confusion, but I don’t give him time to say anything before I wrap my arms around his neck and give him a hug. He immediately wraps his arms around my waist tightly, swaying back and forth gently. All I can think is he smells so good.
We pull away at the same time, looking at each other for a moment. I can feel his breath on my face, and all I can think of is the little girl who would’ve thought this boy hung the moon. The little girl who wanted nothing more out of life than to see her best friend every day.
So much has changed since then, but here we were- years later. All of that time that we spent away from eachother felt like it never existed.
But it did.
I take a step back, looking down at the rocks beneath my feet, before looking back up to meet his gaze. He had a look on his face that said he was trying to figure out what was going on in my brain. I gave him a gentle smile, taking his hand and leading him back inside.
He pauses for a moment, seeing the employee from outside standing just inside the doors that we had just entered through. I looked back, confused at the sudden stop.
Rafe drops my hand, pulling out his wallet and hands the employee a ten dollar bill. The employee takes it, nodding, before quickly returning to his post outside.
I study Rafe for a moment, as he tucks his wallet back into his pants pocket, and can’t help the smile on my face.
He begins to walk, but notices my gaze and pauses. “What?” He asks, his lip tugging upward.
I shake my head, still smiling as I find the words. “Rafe Cameron, you really are something.” I say, beginning to walk ahead of him to return to our table.
He doesn’t respond, but I can hear him let out a breathy chuckle from behind me as we walk together.
When we arrive at the table again, all eyes are on us the second we sit down. I immediately tense, feeling as if I’ve done something wrong and was about to get reprimanded. But the gaze of my parents didn’t look harsh, but instead curious.
The only person who wasn’t looking at us was Topper. Instead, he looked down at his phone, checking Sarah’s Snapchat location. Typical.
I felt Rafe’s leg brush mine as he leaned forward in his seat, “Did we miss something… or?” He asked, addressing the entire table but only looking at his father.
Ward smiles warmly, shaking his head. “We were just saying it’s nice to see you two being friendly again.”
My parents pitch in from the other side of the table, “It reminds us of when you were little.”
I can feel my face get hot. I felt uncomfortable with this being discussed, when we had only just really started being sort-of friends again- if that’s what you even call this.
Rafe’s leg brushes mine again when he answers, “We’ve always been friendly.”
Ward’s eyebrows crease, in a questioning but skeptical manner, “Have you now?”
My parents decided to add unnecessarily to the conversation again, “Yeah, Y/N, ever since you started hanging out with the pogues, we haven’t seen much of you two together. This is a nice change.”
I felt the urge to roll my eyes, but suppressed it due to the company. I gave a tight lipped smile, acknowledging what they said but not quite having a response.
I glance over at Rafe, who’s eyes are not on me, but Topper, who is still looking at Sarah’s location. Rafe shakes his head with annoyance.
The adults pick the conversation back up, discussing summer plans, which bores me- so I decide to check my phone as well. It's not that our summer plans aren't exciting- I can just only do so many dinners at the club, days on the yacht with my dad's boss, kook parties, etc. It gets old fast. Especially when my parents are so overly concerned with putting on a show every time we make an appearance anywhere.
I pull my phone out of my purse, turning it on to see that JJ has texted me 10 minutes ago.
Bonfire tomorrow night?
Now this is an event I can get behind.
#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe obx#drew starkey#outer banks#rafe cameron x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe imagine#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron masterlist#outer banks smut#obx smut#obx#obx fic#obx4#outer banks netflix#obx s4
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the overachiever * fem!driver
she's just a little competitive, that's all
pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver
notes: YAUUUR i'm back with em femdriver updates dawg
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
oscar leans to the side as he avoids the ball hurled at him at seemingly an alarming rate — could have possibly taken his head off if he hadn’t moved fast enough — then turns back to the pair on the other side of the court. “oi!”
“loser!” she pumps her fist in the air and hops over to her teammate on her side of the court, hand lifted for a high-5. “do better.”
oscar rests a hand on his hip, chest heaving as he whirls around to where the ball had bounced to. “this was supposed to be a chill game. what is your problem?”
liam laughs, clutching his stomach as he threw his head back. he catches the girl’s hand and nods. “sore losers, aren’t they?”
“isn’t this your first time playing padel?” logan scowls. “how are you already so good at it?”
she shrugs as she puts her racket between her legs, readjusting her ponytail. “you know i can’t stand when i’m bad at things. of course, i prepared myself for today.”
when oscar had invited them out for a game of padel, he had expected it to be a first out of many short games. what nobody had expected, though, is for the girl — who claimed to know nothing of the sport just a week ago — to be absolutely dominating them on the court.
there is a reason they hadn’t invited the rest of their friends or anyone else from the grid. they just wanted to slowly take their time to learn the ropes of the game so that when the season goes underway, they don’t embarrass themselves when they get invited to games by other drivers.
but of course, the overachiever did her research and is already excelling to a certain extent. it’s just something they’d had to endure over the years: her in-explainable need to be good at everything immediately. if she’s not good at it from the get-go, she loses interest quickly.
“how? how could you have possibly prepared yourself for a game of padel? you didn’t even have a racket until 3 days ago,” logan scolds, throwing his arms in the air as the frustration slowly gets to him. there’s just something about her beating him in absolutely everything that’s sort of absurd. “i was literally with you when we went to get your stupid racket!”
“there’s this thing called youtube?” she hums with an eyebrow raised with the roll of her eyes. “and i asked fernando for some tips. so i’m kind of… like… a pro.”
“doesn’t make you a pro,” oscar scowls with a frown as he shakes his head. “makes you a bit of a nerd, though.”
“well i am graduating with a degree in information technology in a couple of months. so, perhaps, i could be a nerd,” she hums, with a giddy grin, “at least if the whole racing thing doesn’t work out… i have a way out. unlike you dropouts!”
“a woman in stem!” liam cheers. “if you graduate first class, i’ll buy you a car. what’s your current grades?”
she presses her lips together, nodding as she tries to formulate a plan for her education. “if i study harder for my final exam in a week, i could make that happen. i’m a pretty solid b grade student.”
“i meant a toy car, you freak,” liam frowns, scowling at her. “you think i’m getting paid loads as a reserve driver?”
“i overheard the team discussing you the other afternoon. who knows? we very well may be teammates next year.”
“i sure hope not,” logan butts in with a snort. “that wouldn’t do anyone any good — two idiots in the same team.”
she tilts her head, blinking innocently at him. “what do you mean? williams seems to be doing great with that kind of lineup this year.”
logan clenches his jaw, puckering his lips as he looks at her. “okay.”
“enough fighting,” oscar rolls his eyes. “ready to lose again, logan?”
the american sighs. “yeah, i guess.”
“god, don’t you know what a demonstration means?” max clutches his stomach, hunching over as the pain shoots through his torso. he watches the ball slowly bounce on the ground, right after hitting him in the stomach.
beside her, penelope giggles as she approaches max in concern. “are you okay, maxie?”
max shakes his head, glancing at the young child before dropping to his knees as he groans. “no, p. she bullied me!”
“she’s so strong!” penelope cheers, hopping over to the older girl with a screechy giggle. “but you should say sorry, maybe!”
“you’re right,” she grins, patting penelope on the head. “i’m sorry, max.” she leans down to max’s ear out of penelope’s hearing range. “that you got outplayed by a girl.”
max lifts his head to glare at her. they were just teaching penelope how to play football, the older girl describing earlier how to score effectively after she expressed interest in the sport. when she was asked to demonstrate the move, max didn’t expect her to kick the ball so hard.
“i knew that was coming. you’re so harsh!”
he was expecting a semi-strong kick to his stomach — something that he could catch and bear before they continued their small game of football. but no, she kicked the ball as hard as she could and almost incapacitated him.
though, perhaps incapacitated is too strong of a word. but he still does feel it in his gut, stumbling back in confusion when the ball came into contact with him.
can he really blame her, though? he sort of gets it: the need to be good at everything to please people. maybe it’s the eldest sibling trait.
“i was in varsity when i was in primary school,” she presses her lips together with a small smile. she holds her arms out to the younger girl and gestures towards her parent’s house. “i could get blythe to make us orange juice, p. do you want some?”
she sighs and drops her hands. “you can do better than that.”
logan drops his stance, his hands resting by the side of his body. “what do you mean? i don’t want to hit you so hard.”
“why? it’s not our first time sparring,” she scowls, wiping the side of her face on the sleeve of her shirt. she lifts her hands again, inside a pair of boxing gloves, and protects her face. “come on. hit me like you mean it.”
“i’m not going to hit you,” logan mutters. “we’re just warming up until benny and noah get here, right? that’s what you said.”
“yeah, but,” she darts a hand out, barely missing logan’s face when he leans back to avoid her punch, “i want a real challenge before they get here. come on, logan.”
but logan doesn’t fight back. instead, he takes several steps back when she tries to approach him, both arms darting out in an attempt to rile him up into a real spar.
“stop trying. i’m not doing this with you,” logan sighs, touching gloves with her everytime she tries to reach forward for him. “i know you were in martial arts growing up too, but i wasn’t. i’m just here because you asked me to be here.”
she grins. “exactly. so, fight back. don’t be a coward.”
“you’re not going to rile me up into a fight. i’m not you.”
“it works sometimes.” she dips down slightly and throws a punch into his stomach, prompting a huff as it hits him. “hit me back.”
“no way. stop asking me to do that.”
“coward.”
“okay.”
she touches his thigh with her feet, the taller boy stumbling slightly. “you’re just gonna let me do that to you? do something.”
“you’re not gonna get anything out of him.” a familiar voice makes both of you turn your head towards the door, benny walking in with a small smile and a gym bag over his shoulder. “very patient, this guy.”
“you clearly did not live in the same house as him for years,” she laughs, running over with her arms opens to get a hug. “will you spar with me until noah gets here? logan is so boring — he never hits me back.”
“hey!”
“sure! but you can’t cry when you lose.”
“maybe.”
sebastian tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. “are you sure go-karting is what you wanna do over summer break? don’t you have other things to do?”
“we’ve done everything she wants to do,” oscar says begrudgingly as he puts his helmet on. “she cried this morning saying she misses racing.”
logan also looks tiredly at sebastian, shaking his head as he takes his helmet out of his bag. “i woke up to her sleeping on the couch hugging her helmet, by the way.”
the girl scoffs, punching logan’s arm as he unveils a secret he was sworn to never say to anybody else just this afternoon. “no, i was not!”
“ah, don’t be so shy about it,” sebastian smiles. “i also felt like that in my rookie year. all i could think of was being out on the track.”
“i guess i could study for my exams.” she exchanges glances with the 3 men around her before shrugging. “oh, well. time to race and beat your asses.”
“oh? you think you could be a 4-time world champion?” sebastian raises his eyebrows. “i’d like to see you try.”
“you clearly haven’t met me,” she hums, stopping in her track to turn around and face sebastian. she holds a hand out between them. “hi, i’m the most competitive girl you’ll ever meet. and i will beat you at go-karting today.”
while that doesn’t actually happen that evening, sebastian laughed as he climbed out of his go-kart at the end of their 10-minute race. she swears to him that someday she will be good enough to beat him in equal machinery (a go-kart).
which oscar begs to argue that she’s simply overdramatising the situation. but she just knows it’ll happen eventually.
taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @nikfigueiredo @namgification @happy-nico @darleneslane @localwhoore @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @inejismywife @love4lando
#logan sargeant x reader#oscar piastri x reader#liam lawson x reader#sebastian vettel x reader#fem!driver#female driver#f1 fem!driver#f1 female driver#vettel reincarnate#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#disneyprincemuke vr#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#f1 grid x reader
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DOUBLE LIFE
DOUBLE LIFE MASTERLIST
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary: With your anonymous Twitter account, you've acquired a pretty good following and popularity, throughout your school as well. Jake, your long-time crush, is one of them, head over heels. Yet when you once confessed to him, he had rejected your confession, saying that he already has his eye on someone else. What happens when he finds out that his online crush is the person that he rejected? And... How are you going to deal with this?
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ word count: ~2k
jjangwonie note: first written ep!! I was a little busy the last days, so I wasn't updating as I was initially, but here it is! I decided to split this written ep in two, since it will be too long imo, but then it will be more to look out for, no? ;). I'd love to hear your opinions or speculations about the smau so far, I am having so much fun with this ^^
Important notice! for written eps, I will put the "previous|next" button on the bottom, so it's easier for you to reach 😁
ELEVEN - you look guilty as hell [written]
“Finally, you're out.” Riki's voice reaches your ears as if you couldn't hear his nags and whines through his text messages. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes, coming out of the girls bathroom.
You push through them and quickly empty your books into your locker, before swinging your bag over your shoulder and the four of you exit the main entrance of the building.
Sunoo huffs a breath out. "Imagine going in between the two buildings in one day." His eyes wander over the long pathway with many patches of nature between the two buildings. "I already am worn out from looking at it." His hands fly to his shaking head.
Jungwon chuckles. "It gets easier. And to be honest, it's a nice break from the cramped classes," he responds while putting his spectacles in its case.
"And an excuse for if you're late," you add with a hint of mischief. "Please. The amount of times I took my sweet ass time when I had Advanced Writing."
"Okay, nerd." Riki breathes out, earning a smack on the arm from you.
"Whatever." You stick your nose up.
"And while I was there, it gave me an excuse to search for my brother and ask for money. You know, the money that I used for your extra desserts?"
Your eyes land on Riki, who avoids your eyes purposefully. "What? Nah, don't know what you are talking about." Of course. Act all innocent all you want.
Sunoo locks your arms together. "Anyways. Excited for tonight? First time going out with the four of us like this, out and about and not getting tipsy in the park." He laughs. "The weather is pretty nice too."
And he is right. To be fair, the warmth of the descending sun touching your skin paired with the soft breeze is indeed nice and very calming.
Not for long, though.
That's when your brother calls out to you. You're met with Sunghoon waving you over, not very far from where you four are standing. But your eyes land on the figure beside him.
"No way," you mutter, eyes wide. And you're not the only one. Jake looks evenly surprised, lips seemingly still. Riki's eyes dart between you two sneakily while you approach. "Well, isn't this interesting?"
"Uhm. Excuse me... Jake?"
Though it is a quieter place, the music of the crowded school festival makes your voice barely heard. Jake turns around, before finding the source of the voice.
"Yeah? That's me."
His eyes looked so dreamy, and his pretty full lips were turned up in a friendly smile, making heat rise to your cheeks to the point of you wanting to run away right there and then.
"...Hi, I'm... well..." you fail to get out of your words.
"Yeah?"
No, you shouldn't leave now. Not when you already, finally, have his attention.
"Um, I have seen you during football practices, and around school."
That's a lie. It wasn't only those practices, and whenever you had to go over to the other building, at least, it didn't feel as casual to you as it might seem.
"I know this is really sudden, and you don't really know me, but... I think you're really cool and, I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime."
You can't even look in his eyes the moment those words fall out of your mouth.
It felt like an eternity before he said something. "Oh! I... Wow, I'm flattered. Really! But..."
Oh.
"I kinda have my eyes on somebody else right now... I hope you understand."
Oh... yeah, of course.
Although the heat in your cheeks doesn't falter, your heart feels like it fell all the way into the ground. As if this isn't the most embarrassing thing that could happen.
"Oh gosh, of course. I am so sorry for bothering you. This was a mistake." You let out an embarrassed chuckle.
"No, no, you didn't bother me at all. It was brave of you to-"
But you're already backing away. "I should go. Please forget that this happened. Sorry again!" you manage to squeeze out, before turning around and disappearing in the crowd.
"Wait, I didn't catch your...." But you're already gone. "...name."
Well, shit.
Sunghoon, oblivious to the tension, grinned.
"Jake, this is my little sister, y/n, and her friends..."
'Does he know? Does Hoon know? Does he even remember? That is stupid, why would he even remember?'
"...you know Riki already. This is Jungwon, right? And that is Sunoo- y/n? You there?"
Sunghoon snaps his fingers in your face, finally making you lift your head to face Jake. He looks as shocked, maybe even more than you.
'No, he does remember, doesn't he?'
"Hi, nice to meet you, Jake." Which comes out as barely a whisper.
Jake is not doing all well either, his eyes darting between you and Sunghoon.
'That's that girl from the other day who asked me out. So her name is y/n... Wait no, she's Sunghoon's sister...'
'She is Sunghoon's little sister.'
'I rejected Sunghoon's little sister.'
'Oh, yeah I'm fucked.'
"Uh hi!" he sounds out hurriedly. "Yeah, nice to finally meet you in person, y/n. And nice to meet you all." Jake plays with the back of his hair. Your brain is setting off alarms, telling you to go away, to cancel this, before something embarrassing happens again. But you can't.
'This is going to be a disaster. How am I going to hang with him in this setting while he is talking real flirty with me on Twitter? What if he decides to text her? What do I do?'
"Earth to y/n," Sunghoon's voice cut through your thoughts. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Riki snickers. "Maybe she's just starstruck meeting Jake," he teases, earning a sharp elbow from Jungwon.
You shake your head. "I am fine, Hoon. Let's go. Don't wanna be late." You take fast strides forward, dragging Sunoo along with you, the others falling into pace with you.
Even though the walk through the city was dead silent, it surprisingly, luckily, went by pretty fast.
As you step into the pub, the warm, lively atmosphere washes over you, a stark contrast to the tense silence of the walk. The air hummed with chatter and the clinking of glasses, while the scent of beer and pub food wafts around you.
You guys walk around and find Jay and Heeseung who were engrossed in their pre-performance rituals. Jay was hunched over his guitar, fingers dancing across the strings as he fine-tuned each note. Heeseung, meanwhile, was running through vocal exercises, his rich voice barely audible over the pub's ambient noise.
The moment Jay spotted you, his face lit up with a broad grin.
"y/n!" he exclaimed, enveloping you in a warm hug. "It's been too long!" As Jay releases you and moves to greet the others, Heeseung approaches, a charismatic smile on his face.
"Well, well," he says, his eyes twinkling as they meet yours. "If it isn't the lovely y/n. You're looking particularly pretty tonight. Did you dress up just for us?"
Before you could even process the compliment, let alone respond, Sunghoon is there, inserting himself between you with speed. "Hyung," Sunghoon warns. "What did I tell you about flirting with my sister?"
Heeseung raises his hands in mock surrender, but the mischievous glint never leaves his eyes. "Can't blame a guy for appreciating beauty when he sees it, can you?"
Sunghoon's eyes narrowed. "I can and I will. Keep it up, and you might find yourself singing soprano tonight." He takes a broad, but humouristic stance.
"Alright, alright," Jay intervenes, still chuckling. "How about we get you all a table? We've got about twenty minutes before we need to set up for real."
As you all settle at a table with a pretty good view of the stage, your murmuring with the three boys comes to a halt when you turn to your brother.
"No. I only said yes to boba," He says sternly. "Oh, come on!" you whine. "Please?" you ask sweetly. He knows he can't win, so he complies with a sigh. "Fine. Non-alcoholic drinks for the four of you," he states while he stands up. Simultaneously, Jake stands up as well. "I-I'll help to bring everything back with you."
When they reach the bar and order the drinks, Jake tries to sound casual, leaning his arms over the bar, mirroring Sunghoon. "So... That's your little sister, huh?"
"Yeah. Why?" Sunghoon's eyebrow raises while watching the bartender making the drinks. "Oh, nothing! Just never seen her around before." But he fails at sounding nonchalant. "You haven't?" Sunghoon asks.
Jake turns his head to face his good friend. "I mean, I've seen her, but I didn't know she was your sister," he downplays. Sunghoon narrows his eyes, but not facing him yet, his eyes stuck on the drinks getting mixed. "Uh-huh. And why are you so interested all of a sudden?"
"Interested? What, no! It's just... she seems nice. Haha..." Jake straightens his back. When the bartender puts the drinks on the bar, Sunghoon finally turns to face Jake. "You're acting weird. What's going on? Jake, have you been hitting on my sister?" he asks suspiciously.
Jake waves his hands frantically. "No! No way! I would never! I mean, not that she's not great, but—"
Sunghoon sighs. "Look, Jake, I know you. If you're thinking of pulling your usual flirty routine—"
"I'm not! Promise! Scout's honor!" He puts his hands up. Sunghoon throws a look at Jake. "You were never a scout."
No, but I did reject your sister once... "What was that?"
"Nothing! I said... uh... your sister seems really... nice!"
Sunghoon narrows his eyes again while handing half of the drinks to Jake. "Uh-huh. Well, keep it that way. Nice and distant. Got it?" Jake nods in response. "Oh, and Jake?" Sunghoon smirks. "Yeah?"
"Stop sweating. You look guilty as hell."
That went really smoothly. Not like it went any better on your end...
"I'm done for. What do I do?" you mutter from behind your hands.
"Quick! Fake your own death!" Sunoo lets out while scooting closer to your seat. Riki deadpans over. "Great idea. I'll start writing your eulogy."
"Can we please be serious for one second?" Jungwon sighs and pries your hands from your face, urging you to sit up. "Serious? How can I be serious when my crush slash real-life rejector is talking to my brother?!"
Sunoo gasps. "Ooh! I've got it! We'll create a distraction. Riki, how fast can you learn to juggle?"
"About as fast as y/n can grow a few inches." He leans back and rolls his eyes. A glare is quickly sent his way. "I will end you, Riki."
You take a big breath before sitting straight. "What if Jake tells Sunghoon he rejected me?" Riki sits up and leans over the table this time. "Didn't he get really concerned when you were moping around?"
That is true. You never told your brother, but it was easily noticeable you were out of it for some time.
"Okay, let's think. Would Jake hyung even remember that it was you he rejected?" Jungwon taps on the back of his hand. "But what if he does? Hoon will kill him." You say up front, before pointing at yourself. "And then me."
"Ooh, murder mystery. That's another great distraction, great idea." Sunoo lets out, stuck in his own thoughts. Riki pats Sunoo's head sarcastically. "Sure, because adding homicide to the mix will definitely improve the situation, hyung."
Jungwon sighs and faces you, trying to find your eyes.
"Look, y/n, even if he remembers, I doubt he'd bring it up to your brother. It would be awkward for him too. And he definitely doesn't know about your Twitter... situation."
You groan and you're back behind your hands. "I'm doomed."
"There, there. Look on the bright side." Jungwon chimes in again and pats your back. You peek from behind your fingers. "What bright side?"
"...I'll let you know when I think of one."
"They're coming back! Quick, assume casual positions!" Sunoo whispers loudly as he sees Sunghoon and Jake walking back with the drinks.
Riki leans back in his chair, acting all cool and nonchalant. "Oh yes, this is how I always sit when I'm not worried about potential fratricide."
"I hate you all so much right now." You hiss back. "Love you too, shorty," Riki grinned, ducking as you swat at him.
Jungwon pats your back again. "Now smile and try not to look like you're planning an escape route."
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029. am i stupid (wc: 640)
The library was eerily quiet, with the distant commotion of the Valentine's Day Dance keeping the place a bit more lively. Mark sat in his seat at the study room table, head buried in his palms as he took in his last conversation with his now ex-girlfriend. He should feel sad. He should look back on those texts with sorrow; but he can't. No matter how hard he tries, he can't. He doesn't know what he feels. Happy? Shame? Content?
The study room door creaks open, and Mark's eyes rise from his hands to look behind him. They're met with your figure standing in the doorway, a concerned look washing over your face as you stared back at him. Despite that, a smile plays at your lips as you walk to join him at the table.
“I'm pretty sure you're missing out on a pretty sick party back there,” you tease, taking your seat beside him. “Ok, maybe not that sick. But you know what I mean.”
Mark lets out a soft laugh, “yeah, definitely not that sick.”
You laugh with him for a moment, but then you remember why you were out looking for the man. “Everything alright? You left in a bit of a hurry,” you start, eyes avoiding his. “I was a little worried, is all.”
His eyes soften, and the smile on his face falls, watching you look anywhere but him. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you or anything,” he tells you, reaching out to take your hand in his. He gently rubs his thumb across your skin, “I just needed some air is all.”
He pauses for a moment, taking in a deep breath. “Karina broke up with me, and I guess I just needed to take a break from the dance,” he explains, nodding slowly. “She, uh, started talking to another guy and ended up losing feelings for me. So, she broke it off.”
“Mark, I'm so sorry,” you say as you finally turn to look at him. Your heart races at the soft touch of his fingers grazing against your skin, and despite your words, your stomach flutters at the information he shares.
“I should feel heartbroken, right?” He questions, staring at you with soft eyes. “But, I don't. I guess you kinda know why, but I guess I'm more… glad? Than anything else. It saves for a messier break-up.”
A blush spreads across your cheeks at his gaze, so you turn away again. You take a deep breath, “maybe… you should just stay single for a bit.” Your suggestion takes him by surprise. “I mean, it's probably the healthiest solution.”
After a moment, he draws back away from you and pulls his hand into his lap, clearing his throat. “Yeah, yeah, you're right,” he sighs, but sends you a reassuring smile. “I should just stay single.”
A silence falls between the two of you, and the party just a few buildings away comes back into earshot. Mark wanted nothing more than to bring you back to that party – to bring you back as his date. But his head reels with your words, “you should just stay single for a bit.” He can't think of anything else but you. He was just so content with his break-up. Why now is he feeling heartbroken?
“We should probably return to the party. They're probably worried about us, ” you start suddenly, standing up quickly. “Uhm, I'll meet you back there, ok?”
Mark can only nod as you make your way out of the study room, slouching back in his chair as you disappear from his view. His heart is pounding right out of his chest, his mind replaying your words over and over again, and his head falls into his palms again.
Why must he be haunted by his inability to get over you?
synopsis ⤏ mark, desperate to talk to the cute girl in his japanese class, forms a study group. who knew that other struggling college students might want to join a study group?
a/n: double update since i ended up posting so late 😮💨 when i said slowburn, i meant SLOWBURN
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rehab. 5.
Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader
Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.
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A/n: This chapter is going to contain some very dark and graphic scenes. Please read carefully. I'm really happy that you guys are enjoying the story! The comments are feeding me and motivating me so much, I really do appreciate the support. Also, you can read it here on my archive account as well!
This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!
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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares
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Author: ScariusAquarius
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rehab masterlist. chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4
All through the night, Shuri had worked on dissecting the Winter Soldier's brain. When Bucky had swung by the lab in the morning, it seemed as though Shuri hadn't slept at all. Her space buns were now down, the freely-hanging braids swinging wildly as she walked around the cryostasis pod with quick paces.
Her brows were furrowed with annoyance, the princess cursing to herself in Xhosa as Okoye stood by, raising a brow at the profanities Shuri was listing off. Bucky was concerned, greeting her with a tilt of his head and holding out a cup of coffee for her.
"Good morning. Did you get any sleep at all?"
"Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. I admittedly lost track of time, but the programming is proving to be difficult. Every time I seem to get past the encryption, another layer pops up and tries to activate her. However, since she's in cryostasis, the activation is failing."
Bucky nodded, humming thoughtfully as he stared at the woman within the pod.
"Seems like they updated their programming to avoid another...well, me."
Shuri nodded, huffing as she glanced back at him.
"Exactly. I knew that she was going to be complex, but I didn't think to realize that they would install safeguards in such a way. I can do it, it's just frustrating."
Okoye hummed, quirking her brow slightly before snorting in amusement when Shuri glared back at her.
"She has been yelling profanities for the last two hours."
Shuri waved her off, not even gracing Okoye with a response. Instead, she gestured Bucky over, expanding the hologram of the woman's mind. Throughout her mind, Bucky could see pulses of...something...happening, and he glanced at Shuri when the woman asked.
"What do you see?"
"Um, it looks like there's a lightning storm flashing through her mind."
Shuri smiled, nodding.
"Precisely. The synapses of her brain are firing rapidly despite her being in cryostasis. Do you understand what this means?"
Bucky was quiet, shrugging slightly, and Shuri rolled her eyes before saying.
"She is dreaming, White Wolf."
Bucky was surprised, asking Shuri as she began to poke around the hologram, pulling up a couple sections.
"Wait, she is?"
"Yes, and with my technology, I've been able to see into these dreams."
Her expression became grim, eyes darting away from Bucky, and Bucky understood what her expression was saying. Whatever Shuri was able to see hadn't been pleasant in the slightest, which in a morbid way, Bucky wasn't even surprised. Almost wordlessly, she pulled up a particular image, explaining.
"I was only able to get glimpses and small portions of dreams due to HYDRA's programming kicking me out repeatedly, but from what I saw...it was truly horrific. The things that HYDRA did...the things it seems that she is remembering, or perhaps never forgot, are...they are horrific, Sergeant Barnes."
Bucky frowned deeply as looked at the images that Shuri was showing him. Some were of a familiar cell wall, some were of blurred faces that were familiar yet unknown at the same time, and there was one that made his stomach churn.
Blood. There was so much blood covering her naked thighs and pooled beneath her. Shuri had taken the time to carefully blur the soldier's vagina from view, but Bucky didn't even need to see it to know what they had done.
You're a super soldier, they would say. You can take it.
Bucky bit his tongue while his back stiffened considerably, and Shuri brought up a clip that began to play automatically. It seemed to be of a previous killing, the man on the ground looking up at the soldier fearfully as a bloody hand came into view.
He seemed to be begging, crying hard as the body of a child whose head was crushed and gushing with blood and destroyed brain matter laid within his lap. The soldier was holding a gun, and when the gun was fired, the clip ended.
"Were you able to do this with me as well?"
Bucky's tone was quiet, his words almost a whisper as he looked away from the clip, his breathing starting to accelerate slightly as Shuri swiped the clip away quickly.
"Definitely, but not to this extent. However, our work together helped to shape my technology into this."
Shuri gestured to the hologram with her hand before she glanced back at Bucky, pursing her lips as she grabbed another image and maximized it, showing the image of a blurry paper-crochet butterfly and small hands that were in the process of decorating the art project.
"There are a few memories that I was able to get to, though they are slightly miniscule; almost useless to us in figuring out who she is."
Another video came up, a short 10 second clip that showed the soldier in what looked to be a graduation or awards ceremony. There was an elderly-looking hand that was lifting a medal before pinning it to her chest, and Bucky's eyes widened.
"Wait a minute...that looks familiar. Can you clear up the image a bit?"
Shuri looked smug before winking as the image cleared, showing a medal that had an inscription engraved onto it. Bucky shook his head in surprise, saying as he uncrossed his arms in surprise.
"No wonder she's a ghost. She worked for the CIA."
The medal that the soldier had been given was for Career Intelligence, a reward that came from exceptional achievements and, if Bucky remembered right, the length of service. Shuri hummed, stating as she crossed her arms and glanced at the woman.
"Not all ghosts are completely untraceable. If I can get deeper into her mind and get more parts of her memories unlocked, I can attempt to figure out who she is a lot easier and faster."
Shuri then shook her head, huffing with frustration.
"The risk that comes with doing so, however, is that once she awakens and her mind is able to be more active, these memories have a chance of coming to her all at once. It will be an overwhelming and horrifying experience for her."
Bucky sighed heavily. If that happened, there was a risk that it could reactivate HYDRA's programming and she would become an active threat, and nobody wanted that.
Hell, his temple was still throbbing.
Bucky then glanced over at Shuri again when Shuri pointed to a hologram of a document with the CIA's official seal, maximizing the image and swiping a few of the scanned documents away.
"Because we know our soldier was a part of the CIA, I scanned through their database to see if I could find anything akin to the Winter Soldier program. While the CIA is involved in a super soldier project, I haven't found anything of use yet. And don't worry, I erased my tracks as soon as I made them."
Shuri smirked with a haughty glint within her eyes, and Bucky chuckled at her. He hummed after mulling through his thoughts for a moment.
"It's nice to know that we're getting closer to knowing who she is, but if you can't get past the firewalls of the algorithm...how would we reactivate her without wiping her?"
"I can put a temporary lock upon her most recent memories from the time she was awakened until now. That lock will slowly deteriorate over time, almost like a dissolvable suture, so it won't be permanent."
That was nice to know, at least. T'Challa's voice made Shuri and Bucky jump from the surprise, the two of them looking back at him as he walked inside of the lab.
"If our Isithunzi worked for the CIA before she became a Winter Soldier and was awarded for her work, then perhaps the next step would be to look at every single employee that was in service within the last 50 years that received recognition from the agency."
He was holding the black book within his hands, and T'Challa placed it down on a table beside one of the original Black Panther suits, the king regarding the two of them with a tired look. Shuri scoffed, waving him off before doing the Wakandan salute.
"Please, you always think so lowly of me. When I discovered this particular memory, I downloaded as much information as I could without tripping the CIA's cyber security systems. There's at least 75 years worth of information here. If we filter out employees that hadn't specifically received a Career Intelligence reward, we lower the number to at least five to 10 years."
Bucky was impressed, and he joked gently.
"You ever thought of becoming a spy?"
T'Challa pursed his lips in annoyance when Shuri laughed loudly.
"Not in your life, White Wolf. I like being my own boss."
"Unless the king says no."
Shuri didn't even grace T'Challa with a response, making the man roll his eyes and shake his head. T'Challa regarded Bucky with a hard gaze, asking him.
"Have you gotten in touch with the Captain to see if Tony or Natasha have found anything as well?"
"Not yet. I was kind of waiting on them to get in touch with me."
T'Challa nodded, and he suggested.
'You should tell the Captain what you have found. I am sure that he is eager to know what we have uncovered."
Bucky nodded despite the cryptic feeling that was twinging T'Challa's words, and he walked out of the lab into a deserted hallway, a couple of the Dora Milaje standing guard. Awkwardly nodding to them in greeting as he walked down the hallway, Bucky slipped out the phone within his pocket and frowned.
Despite the fact that he'd had the thing for a while, Bucky still couldn't quite grasp the fact that touch-screen was a thing. Hell, the last time Bucky had ever used a phone before HYDRA, it was to call his little sister, Rebecca, before he went to Europe with the 107th.
He could still remember the number for the Shelbyville operator, the specific number for Rebecca's telephone, and how calls were logged and billed for at the end of the month. Now, it took just dialing a number directly. Bucky's mind was still having a bit of trouble wrapping around the idea of call operators not really being a thing anymore.
Shaking his head slightly, Bucky called Steve, a quiet part of his mind wondering if Steve had felt this way before as well. The meaningless thought was squandered when Steve answered, sounding a bit out of breath as he spoke.
"Hey, Buck. Any progress yet on the woman?"
Bucky hummed, leaning against the wall as he glanced in the direction of the lab, replying.
"We got a bit of good information. Shuri's technology was able to get through to some parts of the woman's brain and reveal some memories of her. Apparently, she was a part of the CIA before she became a Winter Soldier."
Steve made a noise of surprise, stating.
"That makes things a bit easier. Tony wasn't really able to find a lot, and Natasha hasn't even combed the surface of the databanks we acquired."
"She's a complete ghost, so I don't know if it'll help. There's something else, though..."
Bucky's voice trailed off for a moment, his surprise hitting him again before he informed Steve.
"...the woman's dreaming. Shuri had a live hologram of the woman's brain up, and she said that the synapses of her brain were firing in a way that was common with dreaming."
"Which means the woman might be remembering things...that's good, right?"
The image of the woman's bloodied legs came to Bucky's mind, and he tightened his grip on his phone, muttering.
"I don't...I don't know. Some of the images that Shuri was able to capture of the woman's dreams and memories...they weren't pleasant."
Steve was quiet for a moment, and he replied with a stern tone of voice.
"We'll get this figured out and we'll find out who she is. If not...then we can help her become a new person...a completely clean slate."
Bucky didn't comment on the way that Steve said 'we' and instead rubbed a hand over his face, muttering.
"The CIA seems to have a super soldier project, but it's not confirmed that the CIA had any volunteers that we know of...it's mainly rumors and ideas."
Bucky added as he watched T'Challa and Shuri leave down the opposite hall, their steps quick and purposeful.
"It's possible there were HYDRA agents within that stole information on the serum, or the serum itself, that the CIA was concocting and grabbed some random woman off of the side of the street. They, as well as HYDRA, have the ability to scrub a person completely off of the radar, and nobody is gonna be looking for a nobody."
Steve was firm, and Bucky knew the man had to be shaking his head at him as Steve slightly scolded him.
"That's not true. There's always going to be someone...we just don't know if that someone is alive or dead. According to that book we found, she's been an active soldier for HYDRA since 1985, and who knows how long she was there before she was created. 30 years is a long time."
"Yeah? Try 70."
Steve was quiet, and Bucky apologized quietly, revealing gently.
"Sorry...I'm sorry...it's just...it's a lot."
Steve's voice was gentle with patience, making Bucky furrow his brows as he ran a hand through his hair.
"I know, Bucky, but I'm with you till the end of the line. You know you can call me at any time and talk to me."
"I know. I'm with you till the end of the line, too, pal."
Steve then groaned gently when the sound of an explosion went through the phone, and he was quick to inform Bucky.
"Hey, I gotta go. Queens just crashed in. Literally. Call me if you get any updates, and I'll call you if I get one first."
Before Bucky could respond, the line went dead, and Bucky shook his head and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Walking back into the lab, Bucky came to stand in front of the cryostasis pod.
Hands within his pockets, he stared at the woman, gazing at the scars that covered her lower jaw and neck, and he watched as the live feed of her brain began to become active again.
An alert showed up along with a video, and Bucky was astounded to realize that it was a live feed of the dream the woman was currently having. It was a bit jarring to watch, bits and pieces becoming jumbled and blurry, and then it began to become clear.
The woman was standing before a man that Bucky knew very well, his face crystal clear to him and sparking rage deep within his chest. Bucky watched as Rollins spoke to her, and though there was no audio to be able to hear what he was saying, Bucky knew it wasn't pleasant.
Rollins seemed angry, walking back and forth in front of her before striking her down with a baton, the view shifting to the floor as the soldier fell and blood splattered onto the ground as if the woman had coughed.
From there, it only got worse, and Bucky had to turn away the second the soldier began to unbuckle the man's belt with bloodied hands, his anger becoming too much. Anger, regret, recognition, it was too much for Bucky to handle.
He could feel his chest restricting, could feel the oxygen becoming harder to breathe, and a tingling sensation began to grow within his toes and fingers.
Flashes began to appear within his own mind, images of the Enforcer's hosing his naked body with ice-cold water before they began to touch him; reaching for places he didn't want to be touched.
He could feel their teeth in his flesh, could hear the echoes of their taunts as they laughed menacingly, and Bucky squeezed his eyes shut as he began to tremble and feel disgusted by his own body. A voice within his head began to speak to him gently; familiar and comforting as it guided him.
Breathe, Bucky.
In and out. Slowly. You are not their tool anymore. They can't hurt you. You're free.
Bucky repeated the words in his head over and over, as many times as he could.
I'm free. I'm free. I'm free. I am James Buchanan Barnes. I am Bucky.
Swallowing thickly, it took a little while for his heartrate to settle, and he stood upright, rubbing his chest slightly. Closing his eyes, Bucky could feel the tears starting to well up within his eyes, and he took a few more deep breaths.
Turning back to the screen, he was thankful that the image was gone. Instead, the woman seemed to be dreaming of a wooded area, the point-of-view looking down at a plaque that was placed within stone In the peripheral vision, there was a little kid's hand that was grabbing at one of the flowers that was surrounding the plaque.
It was so peculiar to Bucky to the point that he was completely jarred out of his panic. Squinting, he began to realize that this plaque was familiar, especially when the name on the plaque became clear.
Meltzer Woods.
He knew that name and place. In fact, Bucky could recall the trails like the back of his hand, could still smell the wildflowers, and if Bucky really thought hard enough, he could still hear the way his mother scolded him as Rebecca became upset by Bucky teasing her.
"Come, now, James. Leave your little sister alone."
He could still remember the way Rebecca had squealed, though time had taken away what exactly she had panicked over. He recalled that his mother had placed her hands on her hips, giving him a stern gaze when Bucky had talked back to her; exasperated as Rebecca began to cry.
"But Ma, we're in the woods! Of course there's going to be bugs!"
"Now, don't you give me that lip. You don't want your father to hear, do you?"
The memory slowly faded, but Bucky was too floored to care.
What had the soldier been doing in Shelbyville, Indiana? Did she know the place like he did? Was this from a time before she had been with HYDRA?
"You look as though you have seen a ghost!"
Shuri was back, giving him an odd look as Bucky stared at the woman in the cryostasis pod, and all Bucky could respond with was-
"I think I did."
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STORY NOTES: Shuri has been working endlessly to get past HYDRA's programming. She is verbally and visibly frustrated, which Bucky becomes concerned about as he greets her. Shuri reveals that she had lost track of time because of HYDRA's programming continuously throwing up more firewalls that try to activate the soldier every time she managed to break through another.
Bucky comments that HYDRA seems to have updated their algorithms since his departure. Shuri then shows Bucky a live feed of the digital rendition of the soldier's brain, telling Bucky to list off what he observes. Bucky observes that the activity within the brain looks like a lightning storm, which Shuri agrees and elaborates.
It is revealed that the soldier is currently dreaming despite being in cryostasis, and Shuri reveals that she has developed a technology that allows her to be able to show what a person is dreaming about. Using this technology on the soldier, however, reveals the gruesome treatment HYDRA inflicted and the brutality of the Winter Soldier.
Shuri's technology is able to access and project dreams in the same way, and she shows Bucky a memory the soldier had about receiving a medal. Bucky recognizes the medal, and it's revealed that the Winter Soldier had been involved with the CIA at some point on a professional level.
T'Challa makes a recommendation to Bucky to get in touch with Steve, and Bucky agrees. He reflects on the advancements of communications technology and how he had to speak to an operator to call his sister when he was still int he ARMY. Bucky then tells Steve about what Shuri had found, and he also reveals that the woman is dreaming.
After his phone call, Bucky goes back to the lab and is angry when he is shown a memory that the soldier is currently remembering of her Handler, which Bucky recognizes as Jack Rollins. Bucky begins to experience a PTSD episode where he begins to remember when Enforcers sexually assaulted him during a hose-down.
Once he calms down, Bucky recognizes a place that the soldier is now dreaming of: Meltzer Woods. He recalls a memory of him, his parents, and his little sister going to the trails all of the time since Meltzer Woods is located in his hometown of Shelbyville, Indiana, and when Shuri comes in and comments about how Bucky looks as though he's seen a 'ghost', he comments that he might have. End Scene.
TRANSLATIONS:
Isithunzi - Xhosa for [the] shadow/shade
TAGLIST: @mgchaser @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @aash3
#bucky barnes x reader#james buchanan barnes x reader#james bucky barnes x reader#winter soldier x reader#the winter soldier x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#the winter soldier#winter soldier#marvel#marvel x reader#captain america#captain america x reader
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The Arrangement - Chapter 1
Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.
Warnings: Bad parents, Discussion of murder and physical abuse. Let me know if I missed any!
Prologue --Chapter 2
Series Masterlist
Jake made sure to put on a suit he knew was "nice enough" for the meeting. Clay would be going with him, helping him secure the deal he needed to keep Sarah and Jadah, his real family, safe, never to be messed with again. The rest of the Losers were keeping an eye on them to make sure his parents didn't try anything while negotiating. Aisha and Cougar were some of the best fighters he knew and Pooch could easily drive his family to a secure area.
"So why did you think you needed to get your sister out of the marriage," Clay asked. "I get your parents are pieces of shit, but wouldn't a marriage get her away from them?"
"Nope," Jake shook his head as he drove. "Not only would it further embed them into her life, the guy she was engaged to was a monster. I did a deep dive on him when the engagement was announced. He had a bunch of arrests for domestic disturbance, but his parents, his lawyers, got him out and always settled out of court. Apparently his parents figured marriage would help him calm down. I tried to call bullshit, got shut down, and took action."
Clay nodded, silently filing away the information, before continuing. "And you're now going to marry his sister?"
"Yup."
"What do you know about her?"
"Very little," Jake confesses. "Graduated with a Master's in Ecology with a focus on Conservation Studies. Doesn't seemed to have used it so either her family refuses to let her do anything or she just wanted to waste her parents' money, or something else."
"Going for a Master's doesn't indicate an interest in wasting money," Clay pointed out.
"Agreed, but I've got so little information on her I'm inclined to just go ahead and think the worst."
"Are you expecting to meet her when we get there?"
"Negotiations with the parents first," Jake tells him. "If that goes well, then...yeah, it'll probably be a family dinner or something."
"Alright, lets get to it, then."
"Jacob!" Cordelia, Jake's mother, was using her fake happy tone as she held out her arms for a hug. He purposefully avoids the hug and goes for a handshake instead.
"Don't be rude, son," William chides. Jake holds back from glaring at his father and focuses on maintaining his composure.
"Let's just get to business," Clay offers while taking a seat at William's desk.
"And who are you?" William raises an eyebrow at Clay.
"For all intents and purposes, I'm your son's advocate here to make sure he gets what he wants outta this deal. And that it gets put into writing and notarized."
"And what is it that you want, Jacob?" Cordelia's tone was now icy. "We're setting you up with a wife from a good, rich family. You should be grateful to us for that after nearly destroying our future."
"I want a written, notarized guarantee that, so long as I am married to this woman, Sarah and her family will be left alone. You will not look for them. You will not include them in your machinations. They will never have to worry about you or your people bothering them ever again."
"I'm sure we can work something out," William nods. "Good thing I've already got my lawyer here to go over the marriage documents."
The next several hours are spent with Clay and the family lawyer going back and forth over the wording of the official document. Jake is increasingly grateful that he brought in Clay for this part. He's a quick thinker but Clay is a tactician. He can see the loopholes, the workarounds that Jake can't. His parents attempt to engage him in conversation but Clay had advised Jake to keep quiet during the negotiations so he did. Occasionally texting the team with updates.
Finally, Clay and the lawyer shook hands. The deal is typed up and printed. Jake, his parents, Clay and the lawyer all sign. The notary had arrived an hour before, called by William. They looked everything over and added their stamp to the documents.
Jake took the contract, put it in an envelope and gave it to Clay before turning to his parents. "Okay, let's go meet my future wife."
Prologue -- Chapter 2
Series Masterlist
Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness;@ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly
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Here we go again
Hi everyone!!! After my long break, I've decided to come back, but, due to the problems I had with my other fandom, I've changed it (I'm sure most of you have noticed that change...)
Well, Donna requests are open!!! This fandom made me want to write again so... Here are some rules.
Requests rules :)
I know Resident Lover exists, but there is a lot of people writing abour RL Donna, and they do it better than me, so... I will only write about the underrated RE Donna. I liked her since I played the game years ago.
I write just Fem! Reader x Donna requests. (I mean, just this kind of relationship. I'm not comfortable putting the reader as her daughter o something like that)
I'm okay with smut, G!P (only if it's G!P Donna) and problably I'm going to be okay with most of your requests.
I'm not trying to be the best. I like to write just for fun
English is not my first language, so I'm sorry about the language mistakes
I think that's all, I hope you like my new writing, and thank you for being here despite the waiting.
Any doubts? Check those Q&A :)
-Kinks
-Do you want to do a G!P reader?
-About sizes
-About delays and second parts
Masterlist (Go check the part 2)
The first ones are from my other account. I'm gonna update this.
I'm just a maid (fluff)
What is love? (fluff, things implied)
I want to hate you (fluff, possessive Donna)
Like one of your flowers (fluff, mostly implied smut)
Fun at the castle (fluff, G! P Donna, smut)
What I am to you? (fluff, G!P Donna, implied smut, baby)
Spend the night (explicit smut, G!P Donna, first time)
Sleeping problems (fluff, health problems, protective Donna)
Movie night (smut, G!P Donna, fluff)
I'm not going to break you heart (angst, fluff, mental health issues)
I'm not hers (smut, fluff, angst)
My beautiful, stupid maid (G!P Donna, smut, dark themes)
Blizzard (Dark Donna)
Do you really love me? (G!P Donna, brief smut, slightly dark themes, angst)
A curious revenge (smut, teasing, fluff)
Emotions (hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, depression)
Afraid of being afraid (comfort, fluff)
Flowers (fluff, flowers stuff, hallucinations...)
Everything about you (G!P Donna, smut, fluff, insecurities...)
The friend you were used to be (dark, fluff, angst)
Three, then four (fluff, little girl)
A curious "aftearnoon" (G!P Donna, smut)
Your clumsy love (fluff, insecurities)
You belong to me (smut, possessive Donna)
I need you to love me (fluff, Donna's POV)
Your beautiful secret admirer (G!P Donna, smut, fluff)
Feeling yours (G!P Donna, strap-on, smut)
Family (G!P Donna, smut, angst, dark)
That night full of love (smut, Donna's POV)
Matchmaking (fluff)
Her not so perfect doll (G!P Donna, living doll, dark themes)
A perfect family (fluff)
An intimate act (breastfeeding kink, G!P Donna)
Outside the village (angst, fluff)
Perfect for me (fluff, insecurities)
Take me in the church (G!P Donna, smut)
Comforting you (angst, fluff)
Not a human, not a wolf (angst, lycan reader)
The waiting (G!P Donna, smut)
To deserve or not to deserve (Angst, fluff, depression)
The voices (G!P Donna, dark themes, Donna's POV)
Outside the house (2nd part of "Outside the village", fluff)
Avoiding you (smut)
What a morning (G!P Donna, smut)
You can leave the veil on (G!P Donna, smut)
Portrait (Fluff)
Heat wave (fluff)
A better future (Single mother reader! fluff)
To start a family (G!P Donna, smut)
Feeling yours again (G!P Donna, smut, strap-on)
Words of love (fluff)
Dogs and family (fluff)
How to make you hers (G!P Donna, smut, dark themes)
Losing my mind (smut, dark themes, reader's POV)
A long road to redemption (dark themes, Donna's POV)
Begging (G!P Donna, smut)
Wishes (G!P Donna, smut, fluff)
The weird, the lady, the doll (Angst, fluff)
How to seduce you (G!P Donna, smut)
May the chaos be with you (Fluff)
Innocence (G!P Donna, smut, Donna's POV)
A long road to motherhood (Fluff, angst, Donna's POV)
The love that wasn't in your books (G!P Donna, smut, fluff)
Not a little princess anymore (fluff)
Heat (G!P Donna, smut)
Take me home (Angst, fluff)
Bad choices (G!P Donna, smut, dark themes)
To avoid shyness (G!P Donna, smut)
The hell I want to stay in (Long fic)
Ao3 (English)
Wattpad (English)
Wattpad (Spanish)
I love you all!!!
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Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of: death, violence, torture, drug use, promiscuity, more spiraling, self-loathing.
Word Count: 240
Previously On...: Sam had to leave town, and now you're on this mission all alone.
A/N: OK! Ya'll are lucky I just wrote something that made me WEEP, so I need a pick-me-up! Here's Part 1 of Chapter 25!
HAVING SAID THAT! CHAPTER 25 HAS SOME HEAVY THEMES THAT I AM *NOT* INCLUDING IN THE WARNING TO AVOID SPOILERS. IF YOU NEED TO KNOW WHAT IT IS FOR YOUR OWN SANITY/MENTAL HEALTH, DM ME!!!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
It was three days later when the news reported that Chloe’s body had been found in the sand dunes a few miles south of the city limits. She’d been sexually assaulted, tortured. The police were not disclosing cause of death at this time.
She had lied to you. According to the news, she was only fifteen years old, not eighteen, like she’d said. A child.
In the days that followed, you blamed yourself. How could you not? You’d been there, you’d been right there when they took her, and you’d been too high out of your mind to notice, to do a damned thing about it, and now she was dead. In a weird way you couldn’t fully understand, you felt like you had been responsible for murdering your younger self.
And so, you spiraled. Without Sam around to keep you grounded, it was surprisingly easy. You took drugs you bought at the club (though always at the apartment, never while you were undercover–never again). You drank. You fucked. Anything you could do to numb the gnawing guilt you felt in your chest, even for just a little while. But it was never enough. Chloe’s face was always there, in the back of your mind, begging to know why you failed her, what she had done to make her not worthy of saving her life. But how could you tell a ghost that you were the one who wasn’t worthy?
<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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Can We Make This Work? Masterlist
Nanami Kento x POC!FemReader x Gojo Satoru
Summary: After being forced into an arranged marriage by the higher ups, Gojo tricks Nanami into taking his place. Will your husband be happy with the arrangement or will you have to explore other options?
Tags: Nanami Kento x FemReader, Gojo Satoru x FemReader, Reader is a Woman of Color, Reader will have cursed energy/technique, Forced Marriage, Coercion, Angst, Slow-Burn Romance, Racist themes, Suggestive Themes (as for now), In-World Typical Violence, + (more will be added as I write)
Status : On-going Update Goal: Once a week, but could be more
Chapter 1: Surprise, you're getting married!
Chapter 2: Wedding Night
Chapter 3: Grade Me
Chapter 4: Trouble in Paradise
Chapter 5: The Arrangement
Chapter 6: Teacher and Student
Chapter 7: Class is In Session
Chapter 8: Hot Chocolate
Chapter 9: The Meeting
Chapter 10: Work Trip
Chapter 11: Work in Progress
Chapter ??: Work in Progress
Author's Note: Once again, I had a thought and it manifested into a full story. Heads up, chapter titles can change or be moved about so don't get attached! Also I have another idea for the summary but I’m not putting it until “something” happens in the story so if it changes, just accept it.
I just want to provide more context for the racist themes in this story. The racism in the story is slight but that does not mean it's any less important. It's based on my experience with micro-aggressions and such so know it comes from a real place. I don't think I will make it super overt because usually racism isn't always in your face, but looming behind you, weighing you down, until one day it completely suffocates you. If I change my mind however, I will make it apparent in the chapter warnings!
Also I am to date on the anime and manga. I'm going to try to avoid spoilers but technically speaking everything revealed in season 2 is fair game.
I'm super open to suggestions and what-ifs throughout the story. I know I have this set up for chapters but those are just suggestions - nothing is set in stone.
Always open for suggestions and tips! Still a pretty novice writer!
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Hope - No Hope
Masterlist
Summary: After Joel loses his wife and your best friend during childbirth. You support him as he takes on parenthood on his own at 22. But when feelings start to develop, you battle with the guilt you feel for falling for your best friend’s husband.
Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader
Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+… this is to avoid spoilers! (I am so sorry this has taken so long. As many of you know I am expecting my first baby and the little miracle has been draining the lift out of me 😂 but I am getting over that now and so I will be updating my fics over the coming weeks 🥰 hope you enjoy!)
Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2
One year later...
Weekends at yours with Alec grilling had become a tradition. Noah and Sarah still adored each other and were practically joined at the hip at this point. You'd been with Alec for over a year. Moving it with each other not long after getting together Joel had been left to try and pull himself out of the dark hole your leaving him and Sarah had left him in. Yet, despite the crippling jealousy that he felt towards the other man for capturing your heart, he could not hate him. Alec was the perfect gentleman. You and he flourished together and helped Joel whenever he needed it. It was impossible to be anything but happy for you both.
"Sarah come." Said Noah as he took her hand and helped her waddle over to his jungle gym "Play princesses."
Joel watched with fondness as his 18th-month daughter walked with the little boy, her legs still a little wobbly but getting stronger every week. He kept an eye on them both whilst listening in to the conversation that was flowing between the adults. Tommy laughed as he told them a story about one of his friends, the older brother smiling at how enthusiastically his brother spoke about his brothers in arms.
"How's work been for you Joel?" You asked, pulling his gaze away from the kids and towards you as you smiled sweetly at him.
"Business is good." Joel answered with a shrug "Can't complain really."
"How did your date with that client's daughter go?" Tommy asked as he gave his brother a wink.
"You had a date?" You practically squeaked, looking between the two brothers with giddy excitement.
"Was fine." Joel shrugged "She was sweet but we just didn't click." Joel shrugged, looking down at the beer in his hand in hoping that you would drop it.
"What really happened?" You pushed and he sighed, there was no hiding anything from you.
"She uh... Well, she freaked out when I told her I had a kid." He answered honestly "Can't blame her. I'm 22 with a toddler. Not exactly what you expect or what from a relationship in your early twenties."
"Joel..."
"It's fine... Honestly, what 20-something What's a kid right?"
Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Unable to find the words to say to make him feel better. He was so young and yet he seemed so set that he was to face life alone.
"Foods up" Stated Alec as he placed the plate of burgers down beside the salad you'd placed there a few minutes ago.
"KIDS." Joel shouted, smirking when just their heads appeared in the doorway of the fort "FOOD!" he finished, outright smirking at how their eyes widened before they scrambled over to the table.
Lunch passed with ease. Noah found it exceedingly funny how his little friend pulled her burger apart so that she could eat it all in separate pieces. Then after the dishes were cleared away and the kids were out down for a nap the four of you sat in the garden and enjoyed the piece and quiet. The conversation flowed easily and everything was relaxed.
Until you and Alec dropped your news.
"We're real glad that the two of you were able to make it." Alec said as he glanced at you and smiled.
"Why's that?" Tommy asked as he eyed you and Alec.
"Well, we got some news."
Joel's stomach dropped.
"Y'all getting married?" Tommy fired at them and they chuckled.
"No... Although we have been discussing it." Alec chuckled.
"What is it then?" Tommy pushed and Joel wished his brother wouldn't. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"We're gonna have a baby." You gushed and Joel swore his heart stopped altogether.
"What?"
Your brows pulled together at his question and he internally scorned himself for his reaction. He hadn't meant to say that out loud but he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
You were pregnant?
"What my brother meant to say was congrats." Tommy piped up, pulling Joel back to earth with a crash.
"Yeah... Course I did... just caught me by surprise is all." Joel stated, giving you what he hoped was a convincing smile.
"Yeah... we uh..." Alec chuckled as you both gazed at each other a moment and grinned "We were too. Would be lying if we said we planned this."
That didn't make Joel feel any better.
"We have one too many bottles of wine to thank for this." You sniggered as you placed your hand on the bump that Joel had completely missed before.
"Well, we already know you're both gonna be ace parents." Tommy said as he jumped to his feet, bending down to hug both you and Alec.
Joel's heart was in his throat. He had worked so hard to bury his feelings for you but this news had just dredged them from the depths and shoved them in his face. He felt like he was under a spotlight as you all turned to look at him, waiting for him to speak. Sarah crying down the baby monitor couldn't have come at a better time.
The tearful daddies had him standing from his seat quickly and muttering a few nervous sorry's before he sprinted inside to his daughter. You couldn't help but be confused by Joel's reaction to your news. You'd thought he would be happy for you.
Meanwhile, Joel was rocking his sniffly little girl as she settled in his arms, placing soft kisses on her head of curly hair as he whispered how it was okay to her whilst swallowing back his own tears. He soothed his little girl back to sleep, laying her back down in her cot before stumbling back onto the couch behind him, falling into it and throwing his head in his hands as he allowed his tears to flow.
Something you watched from the shadows as your heart shattered for him. You weren't sure why he was so broken but you hated seeing him hurt. Little did you know that he was mourning the fact that you were completely and utterly lost to him now. He officially had no hope of sharing his life with the woman who had pulled him from the deepest pit and brought him into the light. The woman who had taught him that life was worth living.
That everyone has a second chance at love.
...
Tommy watched his brother from the kitchen as the man finished cleaning away the mess Sarah had left from dinner. They had left a short while after you and Alec had made your announcement, Joel remaining quiet the rest of the time they were there. He knew something was up. His brother wasn't good at hiding his true feelings, he wore them on his sleeve and he felt conflicted about his sibling's reaction to your pregnancy. Part of him felt for Joel. Knowing that for longer than his older brother had realised, he'd had feelings for you and how this bombshell must have shattered him. The other part though was angry that Joel hadn't even tried to pretend that he was happy for you.
"Joel." He called out when his brother's cleaning got more erratic "Joel!" He said a little louder when his first call fell on deaf ears.
"What." The older man growled, coming to a stop and gripping the edges of the counter as he stared at the bottles now soaking in the sink.
"You could have been nicer about her news." He said plainly, pulling Joel's gaze to him.
"What?" He asked again, but his tone changed.
"I get that you're probably feeling a bit bummed about this but-"
"Bummed?" Joel snarled, stopping his brother in his tracks "You think I'm feeling bummed about this?"
"You know what I mean... I get you're disappointed but you could have at least pretended to be happy for her."
Joel said nothing.
His chest heaved as his brother's words whirled in his brain. Bummed... he thought to himself. BUMMED?? He hadn't meant to yell that last thought at his brother.
"I am fucking devastated." Joel choked, taking his brother by surprise "A year and a half ago... I lost my wife on what should have been the happiest day of my life."
Tommy flinched at the mention of Joel's dead wife.
"I drove home alone... with this tiny person beside me and I honestly thought that my life was over..." He trailed off as he scraped a shaky hand over his face "And then I walk into that very lounge and there's this ray of light shining back at me.
"She pulled me back from the brink and despite my brain telling me it was wrong... I fell for her. But my wife had just died and I had a new baby so I pushed it away... Pushed her away..." Joel was sobbing now, his cheeks glittering with the tears that tracked down them "I pushed her away and she stumbled into the arms of another man. A man that I can't even hate because he's so fucking perfect for her!"
"But you are-"
"I'm a fucking wreck, Tommy." Joel interrupted "I am nothing but bad for her and my feeling devastated about her happy news just proves that."
"Joel..." Tommy trailed off, his heart aching for his older brother now.
"I fucked up." He finished, shrugging and leaving the room.
As the weather grew a little more changeable, dinners at your home became more scarce. Instead, you had started to have Sarah over for a few hours in the evening as Joel's hours had gotten longer. He never stuck around when collecting her though and you knew he was avoiding you. You hadn't pushed the subject of witnessing him crying. You'd barely mentioned the pregnancy around him in the short moments you did share any conversation. One month merged into two. Two into three and you felt him grow more and more distant with each one.
You ached to talk to him though. To try and understand why your happy news had affected him the way it had. You wondered if perhaps it had brought up the hurt of losing Ali. They had broken the news to you in a similar way. Dinner at there's with you and a few other close friends, they had announced that they were expecting. Perhaps it had brought up memories and feelings he'd not dwelt on for a while.
He never gave you a chance to find out though. You would share a few words. Mostly about what Sarah had been up to at nursery and with you before discussing what she had for dinner and any other days he may need you to have her. Your friendship had become little more than a business transaction and it was breaking your heart... And Alec could see how much it was breaking you.
He only allowed one more month of this to continue before he finally decided that enough was enough.
...
Joel glanced up at the door, glancing at Tommy before pushing himself to his feet and walking up to answer it. He had no clue who would be at his door at 9 in the evening but if he had hazard a guess, he wouldn't have ever thought it was Alec.
"Hey." Alec said as he gave the man a smile "Hope I'm not interrupting."
"Tommy and I were just watching the game." Joel replied and Alec nodded "What can I do for you?" He asked as he glanced over the man's shoulder "Everything okay?"
"Oh yeah." Alec nodded, giving Joel's arm a friendly pat "I just thought you and I could go for a drink. Catch up... It's been a while."
"Oh, I don't know... Sarah-"
"Can be sat by her uncle Tommy for a few hours." Piped up his younger sibling as he walked up behind him "Go, I can handle shit here for a while."
"You referring to it as shit doesn't give me much confidence." Joel grumbled as he grabbed his jacket and followed Alec to his car "Page me if you need me." He threw over his shoulder as he turned his head to look at his brother who was waving him off from the front door.
"Won't need ya, brother."
...
Alec drove to a bar not far from Joel's. It was fairly busy but not so much so that they couldn't hear each other talk. The conversation had flowed surprisingly easily at first. Something that Joel had always admired about Alec was that the man loved to talk about his kid. He sat there and gushed about how well Noah and Sarah played together. How she seemed to hang off of his every action.
"He's constantly talking to baby." Alec chuckled "Telling her all the games he wants to play and-"
"Her?" Joel piped up and Alec grinned and nodded "Shit... yeah I wasn't supposed to say anything." He let out an awkward chuckle as he took a sip of his beer "We're having a girl."
"Wow, that's... That's great." Joel replied, his tone turning flat as he took a large swig of his beer in the hope that it would mask his disappointment.
"Yeah... We're excited."
"I bet."
An awkward silence fell over the duo a moment before Alec spoke again. Leaning forward in his chair and forcing himself into Joel's eyeline.
"What's going on man?" He asked and Joel was surprised at how surprisingly soft his question was.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that since we announced that we're having a baby you've been off." He stated plainly "I've been watching you break your friend's heart month by month as you grow more and more distant with her."
"Alec-" Joel was stopped by a raised hand and he sighed.
"I know our news must have dredged up some memories for you but you can't push your friends away." Alec pleaded "We're here to help you, Joel."
"That's not... It didn't..." Joel couldn't string the words together but Alec knew what he was trying to say.
"Well if it isn't that... the only other logical reason for your reaction is that you're..." He trailed off as he put two and two together. His eyes trailing up to Joel as the last puzzle piece falls into place.
"You're in love with her... Aren't you?"
Joel's eyes filled with tears as he nodded numbly. His eyes squeezed shut knocking a few of them free. Alec sat there in shock as he processed what he'd just learned. Joel's heart was in his throat as he watched the man work through everything he needed to. He had hoped that he would take this secret to his grave but in reality, he knew it had only been a matter of time before it came out.
"Alec I'm sorry..." Joel choked, his eyes pleading with the man to believe him "I had feelings for her way before she met you but I was struggling with losing Ali and the fact I'd developed feelings for someone so soon after that I suppressed them and pushed her away and then she met you and I... Well, I was too late. You're good for her and I would never get in the way of you guys I just... I'm not good at handling this."
This statement made Alec snort. He finally looked at Joel and the younger man readied himself for the verbal bashing he was undoubtedly about to receive. It never came.
"I won't lie to you, man." Alec started with a sigh "This is not what I expected when I decided we needed to talk."
Joel nodded, his eyes dropping to his beer bottle.
"You need to buck up your ideas now though man." The man continued "She needs you... She needs Sarah. You're all she has left of Ali and she's been slowly killing herself trying to work out what she did wrong to make you so distant."
"I didn't mean to hurt her." Joel mumbled and Alec nodded.
"I know man and I get why you've been behaving as you have. It's not gonna be easy learning the woman you love is having a baby with another man but we are your friends Joel and we can help you get through this. So let us."
Joel nodded and gave the man a teary smile.
They finished their beers before heading out of the bar and back to Alec's car. Joel had always admired the man's car. A black 66' Mustang that he had rebuilt with his dad as a kid. Alec had regaled the story fondly the first time Joel had set eyes on the car.
"Wanna drive?" Alec asked as he waved the keys at Joel.
The man's eyes widened as he nodded eagerly and Alec grinned as he tossed them to Joel as they swapped sides. To say Joel was excited did not do what he was feeling justice. He had been trying to think of a way to ask the man if he could take it for a spin since he met him, so to finally get the chance was beyond exciting.
The straight six sitting under the bonnet roared to life and Joel and Alec both groaned before the younger man peeled out of the carpark and onto the main road. No words passed between them a while before Alec rolled his head to look at his friend, smiling at the giddy excitement plastered all over Joel.
"I'm sorry you've been hurting man." He said simply "I want you to know that I genuinely care about you and I don't want to see you suffer."
Joel shot him a smile, before returning his focus to the road.
"We'll work this shit out." He finished, giving Joel's knee a friendly pat before turning his attention to the buildings that flew past his window.
"Thank you." Joel said as he smiled over at Alec, his eyes then greeting the headlights of a truck that had just jumped a light.
It was the last thing he said before the sound of metal being crushed rang in their ears.
Then everything went black.
Next
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#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#joel miller the last of us#last of us#the last of us#joel miller gif#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal#pedro pascal gif#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you
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𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽!
i’m currently not active atm but feel free to pursue my previous works <3
here's a short lil explanation as to where i am lol
click me for asks + requests :)
requests: closed atm!
pairings status: closed atm!
rules for requests - i love when you send things 💌
note - message me or comment on any one of my works if you want to be added to a tag list :)
I usually post on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays
izzie's fic recommendations - updated daily!
some things about me :)
the basics: 22, she/her, from the us :)
i'm a third year pharmacy student! also minoring in justice, law, and society
along with writing, i also intern at a retail pharmacy during the summer and a psychiatric hospital during the school year
so naturally my pharmacist series is my absolute favorite to write and research!
𝓶𝔀𝓲𝓲 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 - the full masterlist
don't know where to start? here's a few readers' favorites :) ❤️ - izzie’s favorites
💌 if you want to peek at all of my writings
S E R I E S
"your prescription is ready for pick-up" - 141 x pharmacist!reader
all of my works and our pharmacist reader
a panacea❤️ - 141 meets the cure to all their ailments
sick day visit - you prided yourself on never getting sick but the day has finally come. as you’re resting in your quarters, a certain group pays you a visit :)
fake hypochondriac ghost x reader (sequel to “a panacea”) - ghost goes to extreme lengths to see his favorite pharmacist
pain-killer fueled thoughts price x reader (sequel to “a panacea”) - price landed himself in the medic tent and his pain killers are making him tell the pharmacist his feelings.
keep your weapons hot and bodies hotter (18+) - stripper!141 x fem!reader (codename: Phoenix)❤️
hunk-o-mania 141 edition - feast your eyes on Delilah's Den's newest male dancers
playboy bunny phoenix edition - an unforeseen guest complicates the mission, now you have to get ready to act as the distraction on stage
the joys of civilian life - 141 x civilian!fem!reader
opposite occupations - while on leave, the boys each meet a civilian that makes their time deployed and defending their country worth it
family moments - 141 x fem!reader
little moments and little voices - precious moments you spend in your home with your husband and children :)
oh, darling, don’t you ever grow up - your husband leaves this world too early and now you have to pick up the pieces with your children
secrets and pointed fingers (requested!)❤️ - simon "ghost" riley
behind locked doors - when the 141 thinks you're the mole, they make sure to extract the information in whatever way possible
empty apologies and avoiding glances - when you return back to base, everything is far from normal
half empty glasses and unchanging perspectives - you try to run away from the trauma at the pub but with a glass in hand, simon finds you
O N E - S H O T S
odd hobbies - 141 x reader everyone has their own hobbies, yours are just unique to 141’s perspective
butterfly effect - 141 x fem!reader they say "a butterfly flaps its wings in the amazonian jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of europe." what once was a silly quote now has implications as one action leads to your death.
opposite of a meet cute❤️ - 141 x civilian!reader most people have a cute story as to how they met their significant other but yours is a little more eccentric
V I S U A L S + R A N D O M
random things in pockets and bags❤️ SERIES - what does the 141 carry on them when they’re on leave?
pt i- kyle “gaz” garrick
pt ii - simon "ghost" riley
pt iii - johnny "soap" mactavish
pt iv - john price
E X P L A I N S my series of explaining the various timeline's of the games and characters
simon "ghost" riley's backstory
which modern warfare game should i play first?
some writings from the inbox
medication mixup - the medic unknowingly prescribing you a penicillin has disastrous results due to your allergy
141’s dossier - see what the dossiers laswell gets at the end of mw 2019 looks like! + template
ghost’s doppelgänger - how does the 141 and los vaqueros react to you joining the team? their reactions are even better when you share an uncanny resemblance with ghost
running mascara - 141 x fem!reader harsh words are said and you try your best to run away from the cause. however, everyone needs to face the issue eventually and now the 141 is left to pick up the pieces. initially part of my 1k celebration but i added a sequel as it was highly requested! PART I and PART II
mw2 x reader - my ongoing series of pairing y'all up and writing a short lil blurb about how you met and your relationship
izzie’s 1K celebration! - closed now :) but feel free to look and see some of the prompts + how i answered them
𝓪𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼
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could you write a walker x transmasc!reader oneshot? if not, that is fine aswell! - 🗡️
of course I could!! just beware any random shit because I don't know much about being transmasc and I did a lot of research on reddit and tiktok for this for like mannerisms ans shit ; thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy! ; for any regulars on my blog, ik I've enforced the gn reader only thing but I updated my rules list, where I'll only do trans masc/fem readers on request. that doesn't mean request a thing and add one of those solely for a set of he/him or she/her pronouns though. ; post writing robin and this was actually so fun to write LMAO I hope you like this even tho it's so short
WALKER SCOBELL ; the boys
summary ; youre transmasc and properly come out to walker and co + some stupid shit for two parts
warnings ; language
disclaimers ; idk shit about awards shows + imagine middle school auditorium seats for the first part
word count ; 723
masterlist
You, Aryan, Walker, and Leah sit in the audience at the 2025 Emmy Awards, chatting before the cameras turned on to watch the proper show begin. You and Walker sit together, with Aryan and Leah right behind you. The thick, tan, plastic chairs were going to do a number on your ass later. For a million-dollar award show you'd think they would upgrade the seat situation a little bit.
Leah and Aryan sit forward in their seats, holding a conversation with you and Walker, both turned around in yours.
"No, and like, you will not be calling me that, thank you!" You laugh and smile, "If you get your grimy hands on my legal name I will actually throw myself away. I am a man!"
"Wait, what?" Walker questions, eyebrows furrowed. "Legal name?"
"I changed my name" You clarify. "Cause like..." You look yourself up and down, hands following your gaze. "Y'know?"
Walker blinks, pushing his blonde curls away from his face. "Wait... you're trans?"
You nod, a playful yet unbelievable smile on your face. "How did you not know?"
"Even I knew" Leah comments, glancing at Aryan, who nods in agreement.
"I thought it was kinda obvious." You chuckle, seeing his surprised reaction. "I had to keep correcting people about my name like, a million times"
"I never knew you had another name? I thought it was always Y/n!"
"This is going on my story"
"Which one?"
"The Boys"
Walker smiles, his right arm slung over your shoulders as he watches you caption and post the picture you'd just taken with him on your public Snapchat story. It was titled The Boys, meant for you and all your close friends.
He was glad to see that you considered him one of your close friends, but also on such a deep level, though it was just a title to you. He saw the deeper meaning that you didn't. Like an over analyzing reader to a writer. He was happy you also considered yourself a boy, that you could happily parade that around and feel comfortable with your identity. He truly couldn't be more proud to see you happy and smiling in this moment.
You look back up at him, a cheesy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"What's that look for?" You ask, a little confused.
"Nothing" He replies, patting your right shoulder blade as he moves his arm around a bit. "We should definitely make a playlist and put it on your story for people to listen to" He suggests with a slight shrug.
"For what?" You ask again, a little puzzled as to where this was going."
"Just cause"
"Okay, Mr.-Won't-Explain-Shit-Scobell"
"You just went on a five minute tangent trying to avoid the word homophobia"
"I was testing the waters with your gaydar, cause apparently it was broken the first time"
"I don't have a gaydar! I'm just, like, here! I'm just a guy"
"Look at this handsome man! Dude, wear purple more, I'm so serious"
"Okay, I see you, Y/n!"
"Fix your tie!"
"I'm trying, I'm still learning! I didn't have this chapter of boyhood"
"Here-" The blonde mumbles, reaching forward to fix your black tie.
You tilt your chin up, giving him easy access to the cloth wrapped around your neck. Leah and Aryan watch, smug looks on their faces.
You send them a glare, trying not to alert Walker to it. He quickly reties your tie, sending you a thumbs up as he backs away. You quickly thank him, a warmth heating up your cheeks, physically unnoticeable.
"Walker, you look like a divorce lawyer." You comment, stuffing your hands in your purple pockets.
The blonde dramatically scoffs, a hand rested on his heart. "You're so mean to me! You're not welcome to the next boys sleepover"
"I don't wanna be a part of that dorky shit anyways"
"Okay, meanie"
"What are you, twelve?"
"...Did you just attempt to quote me?"
You shrug with a side nod.
Leah speaks for you, "Yeah, he did"
"How do you know?"
"He told us that he was gonna try and quote you at least once today" She chuckles.
The three look back at you, lining your jawline with your finger, clearly sucking up your tongue.
"Dude, stop mewing, we have to go out there in like, a minute"
#lowkeyrobin#walker scobell x reader#walker scobell#pjo x reader#percy jackson x reader#transmasc reader#transmasc!reader#he/him reader#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#percy jackson#🗡 anon
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There is still hope Isn't There? Pt 5
Tom Bennett X (Best friend's sister reader)
Warnings after the cut
Word Count: 1,562
There is still hope masterlist
Tom Bennett Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Banners & Dividers by @arcielee
Warnings:: None
A/N: Only one or two parts left to this not sure if i'm going to do one long part or two shorter parts. Sorry for the slow update i had to take a slight writing break for my sanity.
Josh sits at the table, chuckling to himself as he watches you and Tom do everything you can to avoid interacting with each other.
He watches as you stare at Tom until Tom looks your way and then watches you quickly pretend you were not looking, just for the cycle to repeat the other way.
"Would you like some tea?" You ask Tom in an uncharacteristically gentle voice, and Tom responds with a very respectful "Yes, please." Which finally sends Josh over the edge, laughing in hysterics.
Both you and Tom look at Josh like he has gone insane.
"Yes, please," Josh mocks between fits of laughter. "Who are you?" Josh continues laughing, wiping the tears from under his eyes. "Would you like some tea?" Josh mimics in a high-pitched voice.
"A bloke can't be polite?!" Tom's voice is laced with aggravation, his face a bright shade of crimson.
"A bloke can yeah. Not you, especially not to my sister. Never ave been. " Josh leans back in his chair, a smug smile on his face and his arms crossed, his eyes shifting between you and Tom.
You can feel your face burning and your chest getting tight, the urge to hurt yourself over the table and strangle your brother growing stronger by the second.
"I gotta go. Ummmm, " Tom stammers while rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh, you're also gonna start looking for a job before the sun is even fully up?" Josh laughs again. "You're outta sorts, mate." There is a twinkle in Josh's eyes as he watches Tom scramble for his rucksack and shoot out the door at a record pace.
You sit across the table from your brother, completely mortified the heat in your cheeks unmistakable.
"Don't you look at me like that," he teases. "Any dolt with an ounce of sense in their head can see you two running circles round each other."
You want to deny it, but you can't. You look at Josh and sigh. When your mouth finally opens, you think you are going to deny Josh's allegations. Instead, a very telling question is asked. "It doesn't bother you?"
Josh slightly lifts his eyebrows, the smug smirk never leaving his face. "No, it doesn't bother me." He moves slightly in his chair before continuing."But, if he hurts you or acts like a fool, I will kill him, best friend or not."
You smile, more to yourself than Josh, but he sees it anyway.
"He's grown a fair bit, I know he's a good lad." Josh stands and starts clearing the teacups from the table. "So if I am the reason you two are acting like young children, don't."
You feel the heat collect in your cheeks, your eyes glued to the smooth wooden top of the kitchen table.
Josh chuckles once more before kissing the top of your head and snatching up his own rucksack before heading out the door to work.
"Have a good day!" He yells out on his way out the door.
As soon as he leaves, a comfortable silence settles around you as you sit alone at the kitchen table. Your smile is growing by the second until you finally jump up frin tour chair, and your hands fly over your mouth.
Josh just gave you his blessing, and you can't believe it. You jump and giggle giddily.
You attempt to distract yourself with chores throughout the day, your eyes shifting over to the door at every sound just waiting for Tom to return.
But he never does. The hours tick by, and he doesn't come back. You feel so frustrated, bursting at the seams, wanting to tell him about the conversation you had with Josh. Thinking if he knew Josh was ok with it, he would finally make that move and actually kiss you.
You groan in frustration as you get ready to leave for work, knowing it will be hours before you are able to tell Tom about your conversation with Josh.
You go over the conversation repeatedly in your head as you walk to the pub you work at. Trying to estimate Tom's reactions. You imagine him shocked and then thrilled, excited even. The visual in your head filling you with anticipation.
Right up until the moment you round the corner to get on Main Street, just a few steps from the pub to see Tom. Arm resting against the wall, smiling down at a very pretty woman.
Your eyes burn with tears desperate to escape, but you swallow them down.
Clearly, both you and Josh misread the situation, and you feel stupid. You put your head down as you try to pass them unnoticed.
Tom, of course, recognizes you and slightly recoils from the woman. "Off to work?" He calls out to you.
"Hmmm," you mumble in confirmation, not sparing him a glance. You couldn't stand to look at him in this moment. You fear you would burst into tears. It's your own fault, you think. You built this up so much in your head without knowing how Tom actually felt.
You walk into the pub and set down your bag and jacket, hands slightly shaking. You're frustrated. Upset, but mostly confused. Are you upset with Tom? Or yourself? You didn't even know. All you knew was that tonight was going to be a long, miserable night.
Tom led you on... didn't he? Or are you just so stupid that you saw something that wasn't there?
Your thoughts run rampant all night long through your shift. Your usually sunny disposition is dampened by your disappointment.
When your shift finally ends, you feel relieved quickly gathering your things and offering your coworkers a brief wave before nearly running out of the pub at lightening speed.
You try to focus on the clicking of your heels against the pavement as you start on your trek back home, desperate to keep the thoughts of Tom and his partner for the night at bay.
"Walking home alone, love?" You wince at the sound of his voice coming from behind you.
"Came back to walk ya home and find out ya already left! What you in such a hurry for? Josh, give you a new curfew?" He laughs as he pops a cigarette into his mouth, pulling out a match and lighting it.
"No. I'm tired." Your answer is short and curt. You don't turn to look at him, and the irritation you're feeling is very obvious.
"Right. You alright then? Someone givin you a hard time? I'll sort em. Just let me know who"
You can't help but roll your eyes. Is he really this clueless?
"Thought you had plans for the remainder of the evening. I'm surprised to see you." You start to walk ahead, your pace quick and head held high, not waiting for his response.
He runs a bit to catch up with you while he chuckles. "That what this is all about? The bird from outside the pub? You think I'm a tramp?" He takes a puff off his cigarette as he walks beside you. "I didn't mean to offend your delicate sensibilities, love."
If this were a cartoon, smoke would have shot out of your ears.
"I'm not sensitive, I just don't need to be walked home by a common whore" the words didn't seem as harsh in your head as they sounded when they came out. Although you were so deep in your frustration that you refused to apologize for it.
Tom's eyes go wide in surprise for a moment before he chuckles and stays quiet, simply walking beside you.
When you reach the flat, he clears his throat as if to say something, but with your emotions high, you quickly enter the flat and slam the door behind you, leaving him outside.
Josh looks up at you from his usual spot at the table. "Everything alright?"
"Obviously!" You yell before stomping upstairs, leaving a bewildered Josh sitting at the table.
When Tom finally quietly enters the flat, Josh is still sitting at the table waiting for him.
"Guessing all that was about you?" Josh waves his hand toward the stairs where he watched you stomp away in anger.
"Aye, she called me a whore" Tom forces a smile on his face while looking up the stairs absent mindedly.
Josh nearly spits out his tea while breaking into a laugh. "Did she now? Well, what did ya do to earn that title?"
Tom rolls his eyes, as he leaves the stairs and walks toward the living room.
Josh sighs and groans as he rises from the table to head upstairs to bed. Before going up, he stops and turns back toward the living room.
"Why didn't you just tell her you didn't do anything?" He says toward the darkened room where Tom lies frustrated on the sofa.
"What makes you think I didn't?" Tom retorts rolling his eyes and turning over onto his side.
"Because I still remember your golden rule"
Tom closes his eyes and chuckles, realizing how he has given himself away in this moment.
Josh laughs one last time before starting up the stairs. "You always said. It's rude to leave before morning. Yet here you are, on my sofa"
"Yeah, yeah," Tom mumbles to himself before closing eyes with one final thought.
"I'll tell her in the morning"
Part 6
To be added to taglists see HERE
#tom bennett x reader#tom bennett#tom bennett smut#tom bennett fanfic#tom bennett fanfiction#ewan mitchell verse#ewan mitchell fanfic#ewanverse#ewan nation#ewan mitchell#jess fics
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maeumi & me - ch 29 : outrageous conclusions
a/n : the wait is finally over y'all!! i'm so sorry ik it's been almost a year since i updated this sgtsbdkdks. make sure to go read the previous chapter(s) as a recap since it's been so long :3
w.c. : 1.3k
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Jungwon hadn’t been home when you had gone over in the morning to see Maeumi. You were a little disappointed, because you’d been looking forward to your usual weekend routine – taking Maeumi to the dog park together and watching him play while you both sat and talked at one of the benches. But more than the disappointment, worry had started to eat its way up your stomach – was he okay? Why had he left so abruptly the other day? Why hadn’t he contacted you since? And then you saw Jay’s tweets, and you were both relieved and concerned. Relieved that whatever it was, he wasn’t as bad off as your wild imaginations had proclaimed, and concerned because he did still seem upset nevertheless.
Now you stand in front of his door, uncertain.
What exactly are you gonna say or do when you don’t even know what the problem is? You kind of just showed up here without much of a plan. Sure you could ask him, but you don’t wanna push if he’d rather not talk about it. And how will you even know if he just wants to be left alone? He’d probably be too polite to say so. Ah, whatever. You’re here already, you might as well try. You take a deep breath and ring the doorbell.
Jungwon’s eyes widen in surprise for just a second before quickly reverting to implacable indifference. “Did you leave something?” he asks in a stiff voice, looking back into the house as if to check, but not really checking. Huh. Very subtle why are you here. You’re not used to him being like this.
“Umm no, I came to see how you were doing?” you reply, slightly offended.
He looks past you at the lamppost outside. “I'm fine.”
“O. . . kay.” You stand there awkwardly, not really sure you should do this anymore. You study his face as he keeps his eyes fixedly on the spot behind you to avoid meeting yours. Maeumi comes out to greet you then and you scoop him up, eager to dispel the awkwardness. At least someone's happy to see me, you think. Then you remind yourself why you're here. Maybe he's just feeling grumpy because he's in a bad mood; you probably shouldn't take it personally.
You let Maeumi down after giving him a few scratches and clear your throat. “You don’t seem fine, Won,” you start again, reaching out and taking his hand. “I mean you left kind of abruptly the other day and you haven't responded to any of my calls or texts . . . Whatever it is, you know you can talk to me right?”
He clenches his jaw. God, you’re making this so much harder for him. It feels so painfully good to have his hand in yours. He wants to lace his fingers with yours but instead he pulls away – you can't keep doing this. “You don't have to do this anymore.”
“Do what?” you demand, trying not to think about how it stung to have him snatch his hand away from yours.
He finally looks you in the eye, a mix of resignation and determination in them. He knows that if he wants to get this over with as soon as possible he has to be firm and harsh, like ripping off a bandaid. There's no other way. He can't let this continue. He has to set clear boundaries. “Look, I don't know if you're doing it on purpose or if I have just horribly misunderstood everything and deluded myself into some fantasyworld and if it's the latter I apologise for all that I've said and done when I was under the impression that you liked me too. But if you did do it all on purpose out of some twisted sense of gratitude because you feel like you owe me or some shit or for fear that I wouldn't take as good care of Maeumi as I have been until now if you didn't reciprocate my feelings then rest assured that I am not that kind of a person. I will continue to take good care of him for your three years of university like I promised so please, you can stop pretending you like me.”
What . . . the actual fuck? You're so confused at first that it takes a few seconds for you to process what he just said. Your anger steadily rises as the words sink in. What exactly is he insinuating?
“Excuse me?” You glare at him, waiting for him to retract, say he was mistaken, anything, because you still can't quite wrap your head around all that you've just heard but he just returns your stare, unflinching. “Did you hit your head somewhere? Who fed you all this bullshit?”
“Bullshit? Fine, if that's what we're gonna call it. But you said it yourself so I don’t know what else to think,” he snaps, his icy stare still not leaving yours.
What the hell is he talking about? “Said what myself?”
“It doesn't matter.”
“Well I beg to dif–”
“I heard what you said to Heeseung the other day. That you don't like me. That you just feel bad because I’m sweet to you and take good care of Maeumi. That ring a bell?”
You go red in the face, partly from embarrassment - he heard that? - but mostly from rage. You most definitely did not say you felt bad for him although yes, you had said you didn't like him. But was it not obvious that you didn't mean it? Did the past few months mean nothing to him? You had almost kissed the night before for God's sake! And yet his immediate conclusion upon hearing it was what, that you had just faked it all for your own selfish gain? Shouldn't he have talked to you first before jumping to such outrageous conclusions?
You clench your teeth. “I lied to Heeseung.”
He blinks, his face going blank like he hadn't considered that. “What?” The determined look from earlier falters, replaced by a flicker of doubt.
“I said I lied,” you snap.
“And you expect me to believe that?”
“You know what Jungwon, I don't care what you choose to believe. Clearly coming here was a big mistake. But for what it's worth – not that it's any of your business listening in on us like that – yes I did lie then because maybe I just wasn't ready to admit the truth to him or to myself, you ever think about that? Maybe feelings are complicated, and maybe I was overwhelmed because I haven't ever felt so much for someone before, and maybe I needed some time to sit with it before going around proclaiming it to everyone. Of course, he ended up seeing right through me anyway but you know what? Now I'm not so sure it was a lie anymore. I can't believe that's what you thought of me after everything. I came here thinking that maybe you needed some help cheering up after seeing Jay's tweets but this has been very enlightening. Thank you, Yang Jungwon for this eye-opener.” With that, you whip around to leave. You're not quite sure what you're going to do about the Maeumi situation just yet but you'll figure that out later.
Jungwon stays frozen in his doorway for a few seconds watching your retreating back as the gears in his head turn. Well fuck this is BAD. Why did the possibility that you could have lied never cross his mind? I mean, all the signs did say you liked him too up until that point. God, you must think he's such an asshole and he can't even blame you.
“Y/n, wait!” He shuts the door behind him and runs after you.
You trudge on ahead without responding, still fuming.
“Y/n, please just hear me out!” Jungwon picks up his pace to catch up with you. He doesn't know what the hell he's going to say or how exactly he's going to fix this. All he knows is that he can't let you go like this.
tag list : open [comment or send an ask to be added <3] @hiqhkey @i-yeseo @harperwasstaken1 @tomorrowbymoa-together @eloelooo @yjwluvr @rshmra @cholexc @hueningcry @luvnicho
#enhypen imagines#enhypen x gender neutral reader#enhypen x reader#jungwon imagines#yang jungwon#enhypen#kpop angst#kpop fluff#tag : maeumi & me#enhypen jungwon#enhypen scenarios#enha x reader#yang jungwon x reader#enhypen smau#jungwon fluff#jungwon angst#jungwon smau#yang jungwon social media au
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