#I will not be normal about him in the future

[slutoru1207]

Time travel Time Travel | Future!Mark | Angst, Chaos & Humor | Accidental Marriage??

warning: still under editing, changed how it was from the other time travel chapter but same storyline.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is how wrong everything feels.

Your bed feels different—softer, bigger, warmer. The air smells like something familiar but not quite right, like a mix of your usual detergent and someone else’s scent. Your heart pounds as you push yourself up, blinking at the unfamiliar bedroom around you.

This isn’t your room.

Panic seizes your chest, and you throw the covers off, scrambling out of bed. The moment your feet hit the floor, the bedroom door swings open.

And standing there, looking way too casual about this whole situation, is Mark.

But not your Mark. No, this Mark looks… different. His shoulders are broader, his jawline sharper, and his hair is a little longer, like he stopped caring about keeping it neat. He’s standing in the doorway, shirtless, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, looking like this is the most normal morning ever.

“Babe?” he mutters, voice deep and groggy from sleep. “What are you doing up?”

You freeze. Stare. Then, very eloquently, you say:

“WHAT THE HELL?”

Mark flinches, confused. “Uh… are you okay?”

You point at him, then at the bed, then at yourself. “NO, I’M NOT OKAY. WHERE AM I? WHY DO YOU LOOK DIFFERENT? WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME BABE?!”

Mark stares at you, brow furrowing. He looks like he’s trying to process something, and then, his expression drops. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

Oh, shit???

“Uh…” Mark scratches the back of his head, looking guilty. “Okay, this is gonna sound crazy, but… what’s the last thing you remember?”

You glare at him. “Falling asleep in my own damn bed, in my own damn apartment.”

Mark visibly stiffens. “Oh. So. Yeah.”

Silence.

Then he sighs, running a hand down his face before looking at you with an expression that’s way too soft for your liking. “Okay. First of all… don’t freak out.”

Your brain short-circuits. “WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT BEFORE I FREAK OUT?”

Mark holds up his hands. “Listen, I—just—something weird happened. And you… you might not be where you think you are.”

You narrow your eyes. “What does that even mean?”

Mark hesitates, like he’s debating how to phrase it. “Just… take a breath, okay? I swear, you’re safe.”

Your heart is pounding. Nothing makes sense, and the way Mark is looking at you—like you should know something you don’t—only makes it worse.

You step back. “I need answers. Now.”

Mark nods, but you can see the flicker of worry in his eyes. “I’ll tell you everything. Just… let’s take this slow.”

But deep down, you already know something is very wrong.

And sooner or later, you’re going to have to figure out just how wrong.

[woso-story]

Better Boyfriend Than Him - Part Nine

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Other Parts

The soft glow of the morning sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange as you stirred awake. The apartment was silent, the city still slowly coming to life outside. You turned your head, your gaze landing on Alexia.

She was still asleep, her breathing slow and steady, her features relaxed in a way you had never seen before. She looked peaceful. Beautiful.

You exhaled quietly, sinking deeper into the couch.

Last night had been overwhelming. The heartbreak, the uncertainty about the future, the way everything seemed to be falling apart. But amidst the chaos, Alexia had been a grounding presence. Her words, her reassurance—they had helped you sleep. She had made you feel like maybe, just maybe, things wouldn’t always feel this awful.

You wanted to believe her.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Ingrid standing in the kitchen, watching you.

When your eyes finally landed on her, you felt heat rush to your face. You had just been caught staring at her teammate.

But Ingrid didn’t look at you with judgment. Instead, she smiled knowingly, lifting her coffee mug in a silent question.

You nodded quickly and stood up, walking over to her.

As she started making you a cup, she asked softly, “How are you feeling?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Not good… but it could be worse.”

She nodded in understanding, watching you carefully.

“Mapi still asleep?” you asked, desperate to change the subject.

Ingrid chuckled. “She won’t be up for a while. You know she’s not a morning person.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Yeah, she never was.”

The two of you fell into easy conversation, speaking about everything and nothing at all as you prepared breakfast. The normalcy of it was comforting, a much-needed distraction from the storm inside your mind.

About an hour later, you heard the sound of footsteps, and when you turned around, you saw Alexia rubbing her eyes as she walked into the kitchen.

“Morning,” she murmured, voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you and Ingrid responded at the same time.

Ingrid excused herself to go wake Mapi, leaving you and Alexia alone at the kitchen table.

Alexia glanced at you, tilting her head slightly. “You sleep okay?”

You gave her a small smile. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

She returned the smile, a softness in her eyes that made your stomach flutter.

---

A little while later, Mapi finally stumbled into the kitchen, grumbling under her breath about how Ingrid was evil for waking her up.

Breakfast was filled with easy conversation, the four of you laughing and chatting like things were normal.

For a brief moment, you almost forgot about the pain.

But then, you sighed.

Mapi immediately caught it. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated before answering. “Just thinking about everything I have to do now.” You ran a hand through your hair. “I need to get my stuff from Luis’s apartment. I need to find a new place. A hotel for the next few days.”

Mapi scoffed. “That’s nonsense. You can stay here.”

You chuckled. “You should probably check your guest room before saying that.”

Mapi frowned before realization hit her. Right. Their guest room was still full of moving boxes, and there was no bed yet.

Ingrid laughed at the dumb look on her girlfriend’s face. “We can make it work if you want to stay.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I’ll figure something out.”

Then, a voice spoke up—calm, steady.

“You can stay at mine.”

You turned your head so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. “What?”

Alexia shrugged, as if she hadn’t just said something that caught you completely off guard. “I have a guest room. It’s ready to use.”

You blinked at her. “Alexia, I—”

“You don’t need to waste money on a hotel,” she said simply. “I’m barely home because of football, so I won’t be in your way.”

You stared at her, completely unsure of what to say. “I’d be the one bothering you, not the other way around.”

She rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

The two of you went back and forth for a few minutes, you insisting that you’d figure something else out, Alexia insisting that it wasn’t necessary.

Finally, you sighed. “…Only for a few days. Until I find a place.”

Alexia smiled, and for some reason, that made your heart race.

“Good,” she said.

Mapi clapped her hands together. “Alright, now that that’s settled, we’re coming with you to get your things.”

You exhaled, your chest feeling a little less heavy. “Thank you.”

At noon, they left for training, and you agreed to meet at five to go to Luis’s apartment.

You weren’t looking forward to it.

Seeing him again.

Letting him see you like this.

You felt sick just thinking about it.

[mandukkul]

Weird Boyfriend — ot7

synopsis: things your Enhypen boyfriend does

tags: bf!ot7 x f!reader, crack/ humour

warning: none

word count: n/a

likes + comments appreciated

author's note: Thank you for 1k followers! i know i don't actively post on here because its a hobby account but i seriously am so grateful for for all the support!!

#°❀⋆manny's 1k celebration event .ೃ࿔*:･

희승 | heeseung

- has toxic league humour running in his veins

- don’t let his cool sexy hot guy persona fool you

- one time you caught him on YOUR twitter account OLBITERATING his own haters

- lich got you banned on twitter for saying kys your mums a hoe!

- thank god he doesn’t know how to dox or else he’d abuse that shit out of that ability

제이 | jay

- actually tends to drown you out on instinct now

- NOT BECAUSE HE DOESNT LOVE YOU

- but you seriously talk so much and about so many different things

- your ability to switch from one topic to another is uncanny so he’s bound to miss a few things

- plus he can’t waste good memory storage on the 100 reasons why superheroes are just grown adults with accepted fursonas

데잌크 | jake

- is so smart and yet lowk so dumb

- like his brain just turns off around you and you don’t know if you feel happy that he feels comfortable around you or sad that he makes you do all the thinking

- playing fire boy and water girl would suck! because you’re yelling at him to wait for you because he can’t jump over the green liquid but bro is nawt listening and thinks he can raw dog it (he doesn’t)

- makes you rage quit!

- also the type to say “babe i just found this awesome new underground artist i think you’d love them”

- and it’s like rex orange county or soemthing 😭

성훈 | sunghoon

- leaves a message that only appears when the mirror fogs up

- something like “you’re stunning”

- also leaves cute messages around the for you to find.

- “you got this!” “you’re the best!” “you’re so handsome” “you are so strong and buff!”

- okay that was a bit weird but you love sunghoon regardless

- you bring it up with him and he laughs like it’s the smartest idea in the world

- only, his laugh seems a bit too genuine

- turns out he’s been leaving those messages around for himself.

- #can’tgoadaywithoutmydailyaffirmations!

선우 | sunoo

- lowk a diva

- gets mad when you don’t want to go and get a sweet treat with him

“im just too full, get one without me”

- fuck off. and he sulks until you cave in.

- when you bring him around on shopping days with your friends, he ends up gossiping with them and shopping and you’re just standing there like YOUR the bf being forced to walk around and follow them

- at least he ends up getting ALL the tea and you debrief at home

정윈 | jungwon

- lowk judgemental but loves you so much so don’t take it to heart

- like you bite his bicep and he gives you a look that’s akin to killing all his future hypothetical bloodline

- or pull on his teeth

- or pick his nose

- like stop being a weirdo (affectionate)

- but then he says outrageous shit

“okay but like what if we fuse, i would totally be satisfied with life if i lived under your skin” “wonnie… you aren’t going to skin me alive… right?“what? no i just want to crawl under your skin, i think it’d be warm, and snuggly”

- you may do weird shit but he says weird shit

- “i just want you to stop saying odd shit”

- but don’t be fooled, he still judges you with a loving look

니키 | niki

- fake ass emo!

- spends at least 20 minutes posing to take a good selfie for you and sends it to you and actively checks if you seen it

- and when you do see it, acts like he “just took it randomly” LIKE WE KNOW YOU VOGUED THAT SHIT RELAX

- tries to act nonchalant when you give him a dry ass reply:

“okay, riks, whatever you say”

- JUST BELIEVE HIM FOR YOUR OWN SAKE

- one time on call, he caught himself using his higher register

- so next sentence he drops like 2 octaves and acts like it’s his normal voice

“and so i totally think big chill is the hottest alien out of ben’s arsenal” “yeah 👹” “????”

- gaslights you to thinking that’s what he sounded like the whole time

- also, would give you a thousand yard stare if you take a photo of his left side

[greensagephase]

@thealleydog The way I forgot about the whole Tiktok thing, omg. 😭 That really happened, huh? It was crazy, and I’m glad you guys still have it! The example you gave though, lmao!

Hehehe, this was pretty much a little Hallmark movie for sure with the cabin in the woods and excessive mistletoe (it really kept popping up lol). I was really like, “Let me spoil myself and all NC readers. Tis the season!” And of course, I couldn’t miss the chance to include the one bed trope, one of my favorite tropes of all time, hehe, so you can imagine my giggling while writing those parts! 🤭 And of course, I couldn’t go without there been some physical contact/compromising positions for the giggles and kicking feet. I also included that to convey how accepting they are of each other’s touch and warmth — how they crave it. Yet, their respect and boundaries still in place hold them back and it’s only in their vulnerable state that their true feelings come out. For now. 🥺

But hehe, YES, Miguel took inventory and then started writing poetry about us in his head like it’s a normal thing (won’t be the first nor last time, I assure you) and thinking about how utterly beautiful reader is.

POOKIE, THE CHESTICLES TRYING TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HER FOR YEARS COMMENT!

I’M DEAD!😭😭😭 When I tell you this comment made my whole day! Why do I kinda want to add that to the fic? I could see Peter B. telling this to Dulzura when both M and D are like, having tension, and Peter B. is just like "You're acting like this is new. That man's chesticles have been trying to make eye contact with you for years. It's not news to us", or something like that. 😭😭

But hehe, Miguel wasn’t the only one taking inventory on that morning. Dulzura was definitely taking notice of some things (the freaking happy trail AAAAAAAA), which I can’t blame her for!🤭

Also, YESSSS! The communication is indeed nonviolent in this home and it’s all about understanding, respect, mindfulness, and acceptance!🥹💖 Plus… They craved and sought each other’s touch during the night. Subconsciously, they know they wanted that closeness, so of course, there wasn’t any offense.

Sjkdfjkdfjd, pookie, Pav breaking the fourth wall because of M and D being idiots in love was so funny! As soon as I thought about it, I got so excited to write it as a nod to fanfic readers in general, but mainly for NC readers for reading this slow burn.

Also, yes, they got matching bracelets! The little detail on the bracelets is the Celtic Lovers' knot, symbolic of love, so they’re basically together! 💕🥺 And with Miguel moving forward and making an effort to make more physical contact, well, that will become a reality in the future! Augh, the image you just put in my head of Miguel swinging you off your feet and spinning around laughing in joy — this would make such a lovely scene for the future! 😭

Also, that’s what I’m saying! Miguel would be perfect for those Christmas movies! I would watch every movie with him in it 🤭

Thank you SO MUCH for reading and for showing support to my fic, pookie! It means so much to me! 🥹🥹💖

Nonviolent Communication - Part 22

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

Part 22

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Kerr,” you reply with a nod.

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

“I am, thank you.”

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

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

“Ladies first,” he mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did something happen?” Harry asks, concerned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? No, no, that’s not necessary.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excited for the holidays, madam?”

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

“Hm… Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My bag is ready. Yours?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-♡-

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

“Why?” Miguel asks, raising an eyebrow.

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

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

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

“Are you sure?” Miguel asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All done,” Miguel says with a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you know tricks?” you ask Miguel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Faster?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!” You answer, chuckling.

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

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

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

“Hmm… How are you feeling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey! What are you guys up to?!”

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

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

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

“When?!” you ask.

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

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

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

“Are you interested?” Miguel asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like mine toasty,” Miguel answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys went skating?” Hobie asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, eating your s’more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you ask, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” you whisper, catching his attention.

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

“You okay?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I see,” Miguel responds.

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

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

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

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

-♡-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” Miguel replies quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You awake?” Miguel whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-♡-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, clasping your hands together and waiting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do go on,” you press. “Please?”

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

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

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

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

“As they should,” you add.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on,” Miguel says, smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel and you laugh quietly at the innocent question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys ready to go?” Miguel asks.

“Yes. Let’s go ahead and pay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did a good thing, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Binx,” you say.

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

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

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

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

“Uncle Miggle, aunt Dulz,” Mayday calls.

“Dulz…?” you repeat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope. It's my friend.”

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

“Gabby!” Mayday answers with glee.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still smiling at each other, you both chuckle quietly.

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

“Again,” you say, exhaling softly.

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

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

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

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

“Hey, guys!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” Peter inquires simply.

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

“You guys bought her a reindeer plushie?”

“Miguel,” you clarify.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Any time,” Miguel replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-♡-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your boundaries are —” you start.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

-♡-Christmas Eve-♡-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We do. It’ll start in a few hours.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he must know.

Did Ben kiss you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-♡-Christmas Day-♡-

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

“It’s Christmas time!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm,” you confirm. “A cup. Or, two.”

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

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

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

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

“Isn’t he so sweet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” Miguel says with excitement as he unfolds the sweatshirt to see the full design, revealing Spider-Woman merch from your universe. “Merch of my favorite Spider-Woman,” he says with a smile. “I love the design and how soft it is.”

Unfolding yours, you find that the sweatshirt is also merch of Miguel with Spider-Man 2099 on it. “And I got my own of Spider-Man 2099. How did you know I’m a big fan of him?” you playfully ask.

“I had a guess,” Miguel answers with a soft smirk. “I hope you like the design and color though. If you don’t, we can return this one and get another one.”

“No, no, I love it! Thank you, Migs,” you reply, touching the fabric. “You’ll be seeing me wearing it often, that’s for sure.”

After exchanging a few more gifts like books, cute fuzzy socks and pajamas with one of your favorite characters on them for you, and a tool set for Miguel among other gifts, Miguel and you each have a box left.

“Here,” Miguel gently says, offering his gift, the most vulnerable of all. “I hope you like it.”

“For you,” you respond, handing him your last gift for him.

At the same time, you accept each other’s final gifts and begin to open them. From the size alone, it seems that whatever you've gifted each other is small and delicate. When the paper is off, jewelry boxes are revealed, making you both look up at each other with equal surprise and amusement. The latter fades, however, when you each open the box and find a similar, if not the exact, gift.

Carefully, you take the bracelet out of the box to admire it. Much like the one you’re giving Miguel, the bracelet is simple except for a single knot in the middle.

“We got each other the same thing,” Miguel states softly in astonishment. With gentleness, he takes it out of the box before looking at you. “Well, mine is meant as a matching…”

“Matching bracelet,” you finish, pulling out the one meant for you out of a pocket from your pajamas's bottom. Your plan was to surprise Miguel with matching bracelets before wearing your own.

“You…?” Miguel starts before he pulls out a bracelet from his sweatpants’s pocket, having the same plan as you. “I got mine from here — this universe, I mean.”

“And I got mine from my own,” you answer in awe.

Silently, you slip on the bracelets you already had, the ones meant for yourselves, before slipping on the ones you’ve gifted each other. Seconds later, you extend your hand out and so does Miguel, your wrists side by side now wearing two bracelets that are fairly similar except for the thickness.

Miguel chuckles as he continues to stare at both your wrists, finding it amusing yet again, but mostly endearing. “What a coincidence,” he murmurs, that of everything you could’ve gifted each other, you both went for matching bracelets. And not only that, the matching bracelets are the same in design with its single yet elegant knot.

“Truly,” you answer with a smile. “But I love the gift regardless. Thank you, Miguel.”

“Always,” Miguel replies, still smiling, before he thanks you for his.

“Merry Christmas,” you tell him.

“Feliz Navidad, Dulzura [Merry Christmas],” Miguel responds with a smile. “Do you want to have breakfast now? I can cook something for us and then, we can put together the puzzle I gifted you. Seems like it’ll keep us busy.”

“That sounds like a wonderful plan,” you answer, picking up the puzzle he gave you. You stare at the picture on the front, admiring it since it’s a pretty puzzle of flying butterflies colored in a way that makes it look vintage. “I’ll help you!” you offer, standing up eagerly to have breakfast with Miguel.

The two of you walk to the kitchen together, the matching bracelets safe around your wrists.

“Wait, really?” Lyla asks, appearing near the tree and watching you enter the kitchen. “You guys didn’t even ask about the knot and the significance.” She huffs. “You’ll figure it out sooner or later, I guess. Hopefully, sooner rather than later, though,” she says with a smirk before disappearing again.

You spend the rest of the day together in the comfort of the penthouse, the very same place Miguel once found cold and desolate, but now feels like home because of you. Time is spent on the puzzle, café de olla is drank, and amazing food is reheated and eaten. Talks about New Year’s Eve comes up with both Miguel and you looking forward to it and knowing that no matter where you spend it, you’ll be together to welcome the new year and everything it has to offer; adventures, personal growth, laughs, special moments, and memories to cherish for years to come.

And perhaps, Miguel thinks to himself later that night as he lays in bed alone while playing with his bracelets, the year to come will be the year he finally says goodbye to those physical boundaries of his.

Miguel rolls on his side, facing the empty spot next to him. Mindlessly, he caresses the cold and empty spot with his hand before his fingers find your sweatshirt, tugging it closer almost instantly. Miguel sighs and closes his eyes, your scent much closer now. For a few seconds, he remains like that before he grabs a pillow to slip your sweatshirt onto. At last, Miguel pulls the pillow close, to his chest, and hugs it.

Embracing the pillow, Miguel thinks about you sleeping in the next room, so close but much farther away than the last few days at the cabin.

Miguel sighs again and hugs the pillow closer, wondering. Could this upcoming year, be the year he finally crosses that final line when it comes to his physical boundaries with you?

The mere idea of it makes his heart race, but not out of anxiety like in previous years before you, when people tried touching him to offer comfort. No, Miguel’s heart races out of excitement at the possibility. It’d be so much progress for him, and Miguel knows it. It’d be another step forward in his healing journey.

And… It would also mean, that at some point, at last, Miguel might finally be ready for something you’ve been ready for a while. He recalls now, how nearly a year ago, you made that clear to him with a sudden confession made out of exhaustion.

It was the day your apartment complex caught on fire. You were already here at the penthouse, showered and free of the smell of smoke, but you were exhausted after hours of helping tenants evacuate the building, and Miguel could see it. He made you breakfast so you could eat something before you went to sleep and it was afterwards, when you were going upstairs to the bedroom, that you stopped at the doorway of the kitchen and dining area.

He wondered then if something was wrong before you thanked him for his kindness and the fact that he had respected your choice of declining backup. You thanked him for helping you transport your belongings to this dimension and for offering his home. And then, you said something that Miguel knows you would’ve kept to yourself had you not been so tired.

“… offering me to stay here and trying to make me feel at home,” you said that day, your voice wavering. “It means so much to me and I wish — I wish I could give you a hug — a really tight one — just to emphasize with more than words — how much it means to me.”

That confession, made out of your exhaustion, messed with Miguel so much. He remembers the effect it had on him after you apologized for revealing it. He wondered then, what would it be like to embrace and be embraced by you? To feel your warmth? His hands itched to touch and before he knew it, he was rushing upstairs, but he found you already fast asleep and that rush calmed at the sight of you peacefully resting at last, in his home.

It stayed with him, that confession. And it had such an impact on him that day, that Miguel made his special gesture for the first time ever.

The pinky hug.

Miguel swallows, holding the pillow wrapped in your sweatshirt. You expressed that day your wish to embrace him, meaning you've been ready for it.

But is Miguel ready, too?

Miguel asks himself that before he surrenders to his sleep, lulled by your lovely and familiar scent. Somewhere in his slumber, he murmurs something.

“Yes.”

Previous ⋅ ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ⋅ Next

A/N: hiii my lovely pookies!!

Very quickly (because if you read this far, I've already taken an hour or so of your time), I want to say thank you for reading yet another chapter! This is now the second Christmas I’ve spent writing this fic, which is insane, actually. I know I probably sound like a broken record (I’m an emotional/sensitive person, so I just, yeah 🥲), but anyway, thank you so much if you’ve stuck around to read this fic that was meant to be 4 chapters, and for spending another year with me! For those who joined this year, thank you, too! 🥹❤️

I look at where this story is now and I find it unbelievable, yet so fulfilling. I have written many things over the years from fanfic for other fandoms to personal works since I was about 14yrs (wait, the way I started this fic when I was 24, and I'm now 26...? 😭), but to this day, this is by far my top favorite project.

A big reason for that is due to you lovely readers! I'm incredibly thankful that so many of you are still reading this fic despite the slow and/or super long updates sometimes; the slow and torturous slowburn that this fic is; and the lack of romantic and physical love right now that often repels/discourages many readers because of the need for instant spice.

So, thank you for supporting this fic! It has been a privilege to be here and to share my writing. I look forward, God willing, to completing this fic in 2025 and giving it a satisfying and well deserved ending, which will most definitely make me sob my eyes out, but in a happy way ((:

To conclude, thank you for your kindness and love, and for being a safe space for me!! Also, Happy New Year!! I hope that this year treats you with love, kindness, and patience, and that you experience nothing but great things!!

I love you all!! Pls take care and I'll hopefully see you for the next chapter! 💕💖🥹

Alondra❤️

p.s. how normal are Miguel and Dulzura about each other? 😅 And what do we think about Miguel's thoughts at the end? 😌

Taglist:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick

@arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi

@natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07

@nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01

@somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274

@vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread

@shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix

@luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues

@pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah

@muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii

@www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l

@aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots

@l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese

@damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1

@darksidescorner @geminis93

@1800-get-alife

@hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife

@dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss

@may4ri @t4naiis @f1-hoff @llumetrii

@nina-from-317 @kavimoo

Bonus Message ... because I meant to write this on an earlier chapter, but since I posted the last 3 chapters in a weekend (oh, who is she?), I forgot to. A lovely new reader caught some symbolism I was really excited about in chapter 18 (beach episode) regarding the mention of butterflies and birds, and since I mentioned butterflies in this chapter, I figured it would be ok to mention it here, too.

As some of you may recall, both Miguel and Dulzura have had encounters with birds when they're at the cemetery. As one reader guessed in the past, these birds represent Gabriel and Peter (Dulzura's Peter), visiting and listening to them.

In chapter 18, Dulzura visited Peter's grave with Miguel, and they both saw a bird (same color as before for her) before it fluttered its wings and flew off.

After doing little research, birds can oftentimes represent freedom and spirituality. Due to that, I decided to convey Gabriel and Peter's spirits/souls through birds. In the end, this bird (Peter) fluttered its wings and flew off after chirping for a bit and staring at M and D, symbolizing Peter's true departure. Why? Up to that point, Dulzura had always gone to the cemetery alone, but that day, Miguel went with her and formally 'met' Peter. The happy chirping for M and D before the bird flew away symbolized his happiness, approval, and acceptance of them -- allowing Peter to fully move on knowing Dulzura is in good hands 🥺

As to the butterflies that flew over Peter's grave as M and D were walking away, these symbolize M and D. Butterflies symbolize rebirth, personal growth, transformations, new beginnings, etc. M and D are individuals who have gone through a rebirth after the losses and pain they have experienced. Together, they're forming a new beginning/life.

As to the puzzle in that chapter that they put together while discussing the possibility of love and having children, it symbolizes them piecing a future together.

And that's it! Thank you for reading that, if you did. I was really excited about the symbolism in that chapter just to forget about it lmao💀😭

[shaiyasstuff]

drunken confessions | xavier

synopsis : After finals, you and your friends head to your usual barbecue stall to celebrate—only for your longtime crush, Xavier, to show up unexpectedly. A few drinks later, he drunkenly (and then soberly) confesses he’s in love with you, turning a chaotic, hilarious night into something unexpectedly sweet and unforgettable.

content : college!au, comedy, fluff, another crackhead energy writing

writer’s note : i’m enjoying this type of writing too much. I think i’ve watched too much How I Met Your Mother. (This is the fic version of this)

Finals were finally over.

You threw your arms into the air like a victorious gladiator leaving the academic coliseum alive. “Freedom!” you cheered, walking down the campus path flanked by your equally war-torn comrades.

“God, it’s finally over,” your friend moaned dramatically to your right, sounding like she was about to crumple to the pavement.

“Right? We have to celebrate!” the one on your left chimed in, already scrolling through food delivery apps as if her life depended on it.

You chuckled, adjusting your backpack like a soldier laying down arms. “You guys go ahead. I need to shower—get this stress off me. Usual spot?”

They both nodded, disappearing into the horizon with the determination of people about to inhale an irresponsible amount of meat skewers.

Cut to twenty minutes later, you emerged from your dorm freshly showered and wrapped in your favorite jacket—the one that made you feel marginally less like a zombie.

You made your way to the holy grail of campus hangouts, the barbecue stall.

Ah yes, the sacred grounds of burnt chicken, cheap beer, and emotionally unhinged exam rants.

You stepped into the familiar haze of grilled smoke and MSG, and two seniors waved you over, already parked at the corner table with a spread fit for a post-war feast.

You lit up immediately, sliding into your seat like it had always been waiting for you.

The food smelled divine, the beer was cold, and most importantly—finals were over.

Banter filled the air as skewers were devoured. Eventually, the chaos mellowed, and the group began talking about future plans—internships, travel, sleep, mostly sleep.

That’s when the friend to your right leaned in with all the grace of a gossiping gremlin.

“Maybe Y/N will finally confess to that cute upperclassman.”

You nearly inhaled your drink through your nose.

You smacked her arm lightly. “Xavier is just a friend,” you said with all the conviction of a bad liar, even as your face turned a spectacular shade of red that had nothing to do with the beer.

You sighed in relief. At least the subject of your ongoing emotional crisis wasn’t—

“Oh hey, look. It’s Xavier,” one of the seniors announced casually, tilting their head toward the entrance.

You froze.

You turned.

There he was.

Xavier—silver hair soft under the glow of the stall lights, hands in his coat pockets, that calm, unreadable face that haunted your thoughts way more than was socially acceptable.

The first time you saw him, you forgot what your own name was.

Your soul left your body.

You lunged for your friend’s arm like you were going down with the ship. “Why is he here??” you hissed in a voice three octaves higher than normal.

She shrugged, entirely unbothered.

“I dunno. He’s alone though. Wanna invite him over?” Her brows wiggled like the devil’s own dance.

“No—!”

Too late.

A senior had already stood up and was walking over.

You watched, helpless, as he approached Xavier.

Your stomach folded in on itself.

Xavier’s eyes scanned the table—and then, like fate personally hated you, they landed on yours.

He smiled. Just slightly. Just enough to ruin your life.

Then he nodded and turned to follow the senior.

You screamed internally, gripping your friend’s arm again. “He’s coming! He’s coming over here!”

Your friend leaned in calmly. “Don’t worry. Just act normal.”

You stared at her, deadpan. “I don’t have a normal.”

She snorted—loudly—and you could already feel impending doom approaching.

“Hey, you can sit here,” she chirped sweetly, standing up and offering her seat like a traitor with no conscience, despite the death glare you were very clearly aiming at her skull.

Xavier murmured a quiet, “Thanks,” before settling down right next to you.

Right next to you.

There went your pulse.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice so calm it made you want to simultaneously scream and crawl into the nearest dumpster.

You turned your head, smiling a little too stiffly. “Hey,” you replied, sounding more like a malfunctioning toaster than a functioning human being.

Then, in a move of pure survival, you downed the rest of your beer in one desperate gulp.

From your left, your friend immediately started snickering. Snickering.

You didn’t even look at her.

You just sent a slow, withering glare in her direction that said, I hope your next skewer falls in the dirt.

She only laughed harder.

Xavier blinked, a little amused. “Rough exam?”

“No,” you said, still trying to recover. “Just… social interaction.”

“Ah,” he nodded, like he understood completely. “Terrifying.”

You stared at him. He stared back.

Then your friend—not knowing the value of peace and silence—stage whispered, “Just kiss already.”

You reached for another beer. Or maybe a skewer. Or maybe a time machine. Anything to get you out of this.

“I hope you trip and fall,” you muttered loud enough for your so-called friend to hear, punctuating it with another desperate gulp of beer.

She only cackled harder.

Next to you, Xavier chuckled under his breath—quiet, warm, unfairly attractive.

You caught the slight curve of his lips as he picked up a skewer and took a bite, looking far too composed for someone who just sat next to a human panic attack.

“So,” he began, casually, like this was a normal night and not a social emergency. “What was your last exam?”

You blinked.

Brain, Say words.

Mouth, “…Yes.”

He paused, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yes?”

You cleared your throat, scrambling. “I mean—econ. Not yes. I didn’t mean yes. Unless… yes to the exam. But no to—uh, wait, what was the question again?”

Smooth. So smooth you were practically sandpaper.

Xavier raised an eyebrow, amused. “I was asking about your exam, not proposing marriage.”

You choked on your skewer. Your friend howled with laughter.

Somewhere deep inside, your soul quietly filed for early retirement.

A couple more beers—and the gentle numbing of your social anxiety—and you finally found your voice.

Actual sentences started leaving your mouth.

You laughed. You cracked a joke.

You even made eye contact.

Progress.

Xavier, for his part, listened attentively, nodding along and asking questions with that same soft interest of his.

The conversation flowed easier than you’d expected, the awkward tension slowly dissolving into something… almost comfortable.

Until his fourth glass.

That was when you noticed it.

His cheeks were flushed, just a little pinker than usual. His gaze lingered too long on things that weren’t all that interesting—like the table, your cup, your face.

He swayed a little as he reached for another skewer, missing it by a good inch and playing it off like the plate had moved.

If it were anyone else, you might not have noticed.

But it was Xavier.

And you totally hadn’t memorized the way he carried himself or anything.

His composure was still there, somehow—his tone even, his voice calm—but his body? Oh no. His body was absolutely staging a rebellion.

You leaned in slightly, brow raised. “Are you… drunk?”

He blinked at you, then squinted like he was trying to read your face through a fog. “I’m perfectly fine,” he said, placing the skewer onto his plate with the delicate precision of someone who had just lost depth perception.

You stifled a laugh. “That’s not even your plate.”

He looked down. “Ah.”

Your friend, now watching from across the table like this was premium entertainment, whispered, “He’s gonna confess. I feel it.”

You turned to her with narrowed eyes. “If he does, you better start planning the wedding since this’ll be your fault.”

“I’m not drunk,” Xavier insisted, his voice smooth and composed, like he was delivering a formal report instead of swaying gently like a tree in a light breeze.

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped. “Oh yeah? Can you still drink?”

He nodded—slowly, like he had to process the question through a slight fog—and then reached for his cup with the determination of someone about to win an Olympic medal in denial.

You bit the inside of your cheek, resisting the full-body urge to scream at how unfairly cute he was being.

All around you, the chaos was beginning to unfold.

Your friends and a couple of the seniors were starting to slump, leaning into one another with flushed faces and increasingly bold declarations of love for fried chicken.

One guy was trying to sing to a soy sauce bottle.

You were tipsy yourself—lightheaded, warm, giggly—but still functioning.

Xavier, though?

Xavier was in a league of his own.

He still sat upright, in that proper, princely sort of way.

A little hunched forward like he was concentrating deeply on not tipping over.

His fingers rested delicately on the rim of his glass, unmoving.

But his eyelids… oh, his eyelids were betraying him. Half-lidded, heavy, with the softest, dazed look. Like he’d drift off mid-sentence or start quoting poetic nonsense about the moon.

He blinked slowly, like the concept of time had just become optional.

You glanced at him—and promptly had to grip the edge of your chair to stop yourself from swooning like a Victorian lady in a corset.

Because this was criminal.

He was a soft flush of pink and sleepy eyes and subtle swaying, still trying so hard to be composed.

And you, poor mortal you, had to pretend like you weren’t enchanted by every second of it.

“You okay?” you asked, gently, quietly.

He turned to you, blinking slowly, like your voice was music.

“…Your eyes are really sparkly,” he murmured, out of nowhere.

You stared.

Your brain short-circuited.

Your friend across the table dropped her chopsticks in delight.

“What?” was the only semi-functional sound your brain managed to produce.

Xavier just blinked at you, slowly, like he hadn’t just casually dropped a romance-novel bomb in the middle of your beer-stained dinner table.

Your entire face ignited. Your soul, body, and spirit were currently rotating in a microwave.

You tried to laugh it off, punching his arm lightly in that awkward, ha-ha-we’re-just-buddies-right kind of way.

“U-Uhm, nice one,” you stammered, cheeks blazing, “Ha ha…”

He didn’t laugh.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even pretend like it was a joke.

Instead, he kept swaying gently in place, silver hair a little messy, his blue eyes half-lidded but unwavering—like he was trying to memorize your face in 144p resolution.

And then, he did it.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he said, slurring ever so slightly.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

Your brain rebooted. “I’m sorry, what?”

He tilted his head lazily, looking dead serious in the way only drunk people and toddlers could manage.

“No,” he corrected softly. “I am in love with you.”

It wasn’t even dramatic. No violin swell. No romantic sparkles.

Just Xavier, stating it like he was confirming his name on a test paper.

Your entire body malfunctioned.

Across the table, your friend audibly choked on her drink.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Mostly because your thoughts were somewhere between did he just say that, what do I do with my hands, and oh no he’s so pretty when he’s drunk this is unfair.

Xavier blinked at you again, that tiny sleepy smile tugging at his lips. “You’re really warm,” he added, like that was relevant.

You were going to ascend. Or pass out. Or maybe both.

All you knew was, finals were over, the beer was too strong, and Xavier—your Xavier—just confessed to you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Without warning, Xavier reached up—slow, a little wobbly, but with full drunken confidence—and gently tapped your cheek with the back of his fingers like he was checking if you were running a fever.

“Even your face is warm,” he mumbled, slurring just enough to make your heart explode.

You short-circuited.

“Y-You can’t just say stuff like that!” you blurted, eyes wide, voice pitched several octaves above sanity.

He blinked at you, completely unfazed, expression dead serious. “But it’s true.”

Your brain actually lagged.

Which part?

The part where he said he was in love with you?

Or the part where your face was warm?

Because frankly, both were devastating, but only one had you questioning the very fabric of your reality.

He was still staring at you—head tilted slightly, like a confused puppy but hotter—while your internal organs were folding into themselves like origami.

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Tried again. Failed.

Somewhere in the background, your friend whispered, “I knew it. I knew it,” like she’d just won the love confession lottery.

“I like being around you,” Xavier says, like he’s commenting on the weather.

Calm. Collected.

Unbothered by the fact that he’s casually dismantling your nervous system.

He pauses, gaze drifting downward to his hands like they just revealed a deep cosmic truth to him.

Then, in the same sleepy, matter-of-fact voice, he adds,

“I believe that also means… I love you.”

And that’s it.

That’s your cause of death.

Not the beer. Not the stress of finals.

But this. Xavier, casually confessing like it’s just another Tuesday.

You practically combust. “X-Xavier, s-stop!” you stammer, hands flailing like you could physically swat his words out of the air.

He frowns immediately, the expression so heartbreakingly sincere that you panic harder. “Should I take it back?”

“NO!” you blurt, horrified at the idea, mortified that you said it so fast.

He blinks, then—smiles. That slow, boyish, ridiculously soft smile that should honestly be illegal.

“Okay. Good.”

And with that, he flops sideways with all the grace of a tranquilized swan, landing directly on your shoulder like it’s the most natural ending to a love confession.

You sit there, stiff as a board, heart pounding loud enough to scare birds out of nearby trees, while everyone else continues drunkenly yelling about chicken wings.

Meanwhile, Xavier is peacefully nestled into you, blissfully unaware that you may never recover from this moment.

Ever.

You instinctively reach up and steady him when he starts to slump off your shoulder, your hand cradling the back of his head like it’s muscle memory.

He hums—hums—in approval, nuzzling a little closer like a sleepy cat that just decided yes, this is home now.

Externally, you manage a calm, nurturing expression.

Serene. Unbothered.

The image of someone who’s got it all under control.

Internally?

You are screaming.

Full-volume, running-in-circles, kicking-the-wall kind of screaming.

The kind where a tiny version of you is throwing confetti and another one is passed out face-down on the floor.

Because Xavier—Xavier—just confessed to being in love with you, smiled when you told him not to take it back, and is now peacefully passed out on your shoulder like you’re his favorite pillow.

You glance down at him, at his soft silver hair brushing your jacket, his lips parted slightly in sleep, and that barely-there smile still lingering like he fell asleep mid-dream.

You want to die.

You want to frame this moment.

You want to scream some more.

Instead, you just hold him a little tighter, letting your fingers rest in his hair, and pray to every celestial being that no one at the table is taking photos.

Yeah, they definitely are.

As the barbecue stall starts closing up, your friends slowly stumble out one by one, still giggling, hiccuping, and occasionally bursting into spontaneous song.

Xavier, meanwhile, is still half-asleep and draped over you like a very warm, very handsome weighted blanket.

You gently coax him to his feet, letting him lean on you as you guide him outside.

Your friends snicker as they pass, waving like little gremlins of chaos.

“Good luck!” one sings.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” another adds, immediately tripping over the curb.

“Wait—guys—seriously?!” you call after them, but they just cackle and disappear into the night like the unhelpful heathens they are.

You turn to Xavier, sighing. “Hey, can you still walk?”

He nods—slowly, dramatically—like a prince trying to prove he’s still fit for battle. You start leading him back toward campus, his steps wobbly but determined.

“I don’t know where your dorm is,” you murmur, glancing at him, half-expecting him to pass out again mid-stride.

Instead, he straightens up a little, eyes still sleepy but focused now.

Then he turns to you—completely serious—and says,“I can sleep with you then.”

You. Burn.

Not just blush. Burn. Entire face. Neck. Soul. Torched.

You stop walking, staring at him like he just suggested marriage and tax forms.

“W-What—Xavier—no—what?!”

He simply blinks at you, unbothered, totally calm. “You said you don’t know where my dorm is.”

“That doesn’t mean the solution is my bed!”

He tilts his head. “It’s efficient.”

You are seconds away from combusting. “You are not allowed to be drunk and logical.”

He just smiles sleepily. “Is that a no?”

You throw your hands up. “It’s a blinking red question mark, Xavier!”

And yet… you’re still guiding him toward your dorm.

Because let’s be real—you lost control of this night the second he said your eyes were sparkly.

After several chaotic, borderline slapstick attempts to keep him from collapsing against your doorframe, you finally manage to wrestle your key into the lock and swing the door open.

Xavier immediately leans all his weight into you like a dramatic Victorian faint.

“Thank God my dorm mate isn’t here,” you mutter, half-dragging, half-guiding him inside.

He makes a content little noise before unceremoniously plopping onto your bed—limbs sprawled like a cat who’s claimed a sunbeam.

You let out a breath, briefly debating whether you should be concerned or impressed.

You rummage through your desk drawer for your water bottle, muttering something about hydration and not letting attractive upperclassmen die on your watch.

“Okay, sit up, come on, just for a second,” you say, gently propping him upright with one arm while pressing the bottle into his hands.

To your mild surprise, he drinks obediently, eyes fluttering shut with every sip like water was the most spiritual experience he’s ever had.

You smile a little despite yourself. “There we go. Good job. See? You’re still alive.”

You set the bottle down.

Only to be yanked by the wrist a second later as you let out a surprised, “Whoop—!” And stumble forward—right into him.

He wraps his arm around you like it was part of his plan all along, his face now way, way too close, that ridiculous sleepy smile on his lips.

“I got you,” he mumbles.

You freeze.

Brain, Critical error.

Heart, Left the chat.

Entire body, Flushed like a broken toilet.

You stay frozen, hovering awkwardly over him while his arm stays wrapped around your wrist like it belonged there.

His grip isn’t tight—just secure enough to say don’t go yet.

“You’re warm again,” he mumbles, eyes half-lidded but locked onto yours.

You open your mouth.

To say what, you have no idea—something stupid probably, like “so is the room” or “that’s called body heat, genius.”

But before you can embarrass yourself further, Xavier shifts, just enough so he’s sitting up properly.

And then he looks at you.

Really looks at you.

Not with that sleepy, slurred haze from earlier, but something quieter.

Steadier.

Like there’s still a buzz behind his eyes, sure, but his words… they come out clear.

“I meant it, you know,” he says softly.

You blink. “Meant what?”

His thumb brushes lightly along the inside of your wrist, absent-minded and devastating. “What I said back there. About being in love with you.”

The air in your dorm goes still.

Your heartbeat roars in your ears, and you’re suddenly aware of everything—his closeness, the smell of his cologne, the fact that he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded in this world.

“I’ve liked you for a while,” he continues, voice quiet. “You’re the first person I look for in a room. You make everything feel… lighter. I didn’t mean to say it like that tonight—like a drunk idiot.”

You swallow.

You can’t think.

You can only feel.

And you feel everything.

“But it’s true,” he finishes. “All of it. I love you.”

And there it is.

Real. Sober. Out in the open.

No laughter. No slurring.

Just Xavier, slightly flushed and slightly unsteady—but honest.

Your chest tightens. Your cheeks burn.

You don’t know what to say.

But he’s still watching you, vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before.

And suddenly, it hits you.

You’re not screaming internally anymore.

You’re melting.

He watches you for a moment longer, as if waiting—maybe for a response, maybe just to make sure you heard him.

But when you don’t bolt out of the room or push him off the bed, something in his expression softens.

Then he smiles.

That small, satisfied, heart-wrecking smile like he just crossed the finish line of something terrifying and wonderful all at once.

Without another word, he tugs gently at your wrist, pulling you into him. You stumble forward—again—and this time, he wraps both arms around you in a warm, grounding hug.

One that’s a little loose, a little sleepy, but completely sincere.

And then?

He flops backward on your bed, dragging you halfway down with him.

“Goodnight,” he mumbles into your shoulder, already halfway to dreaming, his breath slow and even.

Just like that—confession dropped, walls down, chaos behind him—Xavier falls asleep holding you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You lie there, heart pounding, brain fried, limbs refusing to move.

Because you just heard the words I love you.

And now, you’re the pillow of the boy who said them.

[wordsinhaled]

The things Charles touches in Hell

Everyone run and look at @qwanderer's amazing gifset of the things Charles touches in hell that inspired this meta!!!!

TL;DR Charles' journey to get Edwin is not just retracing Edwin's steps following the maps in the notebook but also on some level specifically reflects the doubts Charles holds about his own capacity to be a good person (and, extrapolating from Edwin's confession, a worthy romantic partner for Edwin in the future). Everything Charles touches in Hell (the mirror in Limbo, the bell, the lock, the claw machine + Maxine grabbing him on the stairs) is designed to sow doubt in Charles - incidentally, much like Orpheus experiences doubt on the journey out of Hell with Eurydice.

-

The mirror

The mirror shows Charles his reflection, which he hasn't been able to see since he died. Jayden said in a Cameo that when he acted in this moment he was embodying Charles giving himself a pep talk about saving Edwin - so he's thinking about whether he is different enough from his father to be able to pull off this rescue, whether he's capable of it.

The mirror also reminds him that, being corporeal in Hell, he doesn't have the capacity to mirror-hop to Edwin, which would have been the easiest way to get to him. It's a tool he'd have had as an incorporeal ghost, a tool that he lacks in Hell. The mirror highlights Charles's need to be Useful to his loved ones and the doubt that if he isn't capable of being useful (especially in rescuing/protecting them), he isn't loveable. Later he says to Edwin "Well, I'm here now," and is able to use the tools in the bag of tricks to distract the doll spider and get Edwin to safety.

And though I don't think Charles is as consciously aware of this bit, the mirror's also a bit of a metaphor for Charles' people-pleasing and how Charles effaces himself in favor of his loved ones. Charles isn't able to be seen in reflections normally, as a ghost, just as he puts the comfort and mood of others above showing his authentic feelings/frustrations, so he isn't "seen" in those relationships. In the mirror in Hell, he can see himself, for the first time in over three decades, and it echoes a fear/doubt that if he shows up fully present in a relationship, romantic or otherwise, he will take up too much space for himself, or people won't like what the see when he is visible.

The bell

The bell speaks to Charles's doubts about impulsivity and its unintended negative consequences. Charles' on-the-spot impulsive decisions are a theme throughout the show - he identifies himself as "the one who does shit like this" in the pilot when possessing Esther. And he compensates for or offsets these things really successfully with resourceful thinking (see: the enchanted jar to replace the sprites' smashed vessel, etc.), and his quick thinking is a huge strength. But the bell here is an example to Charles of a time his impulsivity hurt others, even without him realizing.

Charles and Edwin have an exchange about it: "What about the bell?" "No - it hurts them." Charles experiences direct proof that his impulsive action caused harm to others that he can't fix or soothe, and this moment leads directly into Charles slowing down to take time to process/figure out his feelings for Edwin during the staircase confession rather than impulsively saying he was in love back right away. The bell reflects his fear of how his impulsivity could be a hurdle or liability in his relationships. The bell can also represent the fear that even something that typically makes Charles an asset to Edwin, a strength or a positive, can become something harmful if Charles isn't careful. It's the doubt that Charles' quick thinking, which complements Edwin's more regimented nature and desire to always "have a proper plan in place," could have an unintended harmful shadow side if Charles allows it to, so that he can't trust himself.

Also, the ringing of the bell that is meant to summon someone, much like the mirror, also speaks to Charles' desires to take up space and be perceived by others, and ties back to his doubt that he might take up too much space in a dynamic with someone else. Charles has missed being visible and living, wished to be "seen by someone his own age who's alive." The 'attention' piece might reflect Charles' occasional showiness - which became comfortable over years with Edwin, but which while alive he probably used to associate with negative consequences for himself for taking up 'too much space' or otherwise putting himself in a position where his dad or his peers would 'cut him down to size,' so to speak.

The ringing of the bell at a counter is, in theory, used to seek attention or service from someone, which would also mean Charles knowing what he wants in order to ask for it - and, in a relationship, being able to articulate his desires and needs. It would mean Charles subverting his usual way of being where he makes sure others have everything they need, to prioritize his own wants and needs. It represents his doubt of his ability to be vulnerable in a relationship.

The lock

Irene's phrasing "manipulate for access" about the lock got me thinking about the idea of Charles being able to pick any lock, having confidence in his ability to do so, and even others having confidence in his skill at it ("Big lock" "I'm sure you can open it"). It parallels Charles being good with people, being the one who "everyone likes […] eventually" because he's a "good sort of chap" - but also makes me think it reflects a fear that others will be taken in by the façade of affability he takes care to put on for others' comfort, and make themselves vulnerable to him only for him to hurt them. The classic sort of not-wanting-to-continue-the-cycle-of-abuse type fears.

The bell also highlights Charles's differences from David (who Crystal says "must have lied to [her]" to get her to "let him in" to possess her, as Edwin put it in that same scene). Charles doesn't actually manipulate people for access to their bodies, but it calls back to the doubts he experiences in 'The Case of the Two Dead Dragons' about being compared to Crystal's ex/Brad and Hunter in how they exploited women. The lock also speaks to the doubt that once he has actually gotten someone to like him, or if he were to enter into a relationship with Edwin, they're only there because they've been 'taken in.' Charles knows how to be a "cute distraction" to others or a temporary fling, he doesn't think people should be let in to see the dark emotions at the depths of him that he suppresses. The lock is a bit tied into the claw machine, I think.

The claw machine

The claw machine is associated with grabbing prizes and reflects Charles' self-doubt in general and the ways he seeks praise. It speaks to his issues with feeling fundamentally deserving of love and the fear/doubt that he doesn't actually deserve the "prizes" he gets (being praised by others, or receiving Edwin's love without any expectations or conditions).

It's also a game, and in those types of claw games there's usually a lot of maneuvering the claw, trying over and over and failing to grab the prize, "falling short" if you will, even despite having skill at the game; the prize might slip free and be lost, etc. - much like how Charles always felt he was falling short of his dad and never reaching making him happy/proud ("no matter how nice I was, or how good at sports I was"). When it comes to Charles + games: Cricket was a game Charles excelled at and yet never quite made the mark of his father's approval no matter how many trophies he got, etc.

The claw machine can also be a metaphor for the cycle of abuse. It speaks to the idea that Charles was caught up in a sort of 'rigged game' - an endless cycle of abuse in which his abusers held physical, emotional, social, or systemic power over him and he would inevitably end up 'losing' the game with its uncertain rules and would be hurt (by his dad/his peers or by society). While alive he was playing the assimilation/likeability game with his friends for the prize of feeling belonging, only for them to turn out to be the ones to kill him.

(Notably, the way out that Edwin ended up taking was a hole smashed in the wall behind the claw machine, bypassing the game entirely - and Charles retraces the path Edwin took. This shows how Charles doesn't need to actually keep trying and failing to reach an unattainable/shifting goalpost in order to be loved unconditionally or be deserving of love. It also foreshadows he can take a different path that would break the cycle of abuse, that indeed he is already breaking it.)

+ Maxine

Bonus, since this one touched him and not vice versa - Maxine grabbing Charles on the stairs and knocking him off-balance. In life Maxine was a stalker, an abusive person who was invasive towards and controlling towards her romantic interest. Ultimately she became physically violent and tried to kill Jenny. This has been spoken on in other metas, but much like the Devlin House reflected his fears of becoming like his dad, Charles encountering Maxine on the stairs reflects Charles' basic fears of continuing the cycle of abuse in a romantic relationship and emotionally or physically hurting his partner by being overbearing/controlling/violent. Maxine being present on the staircase during the confession also underscores this doubt in Charles.

[sheetzking]

Compilation of random hakuoki stuff ive done over the last month because ive been replaying the games👍

idk if anyone sees my visions here idek if theres a fandom here ?? hey guys😌

[master-detective-archives]

Makoto took a deep breath to reveal everything, from the Homunculous project, the truth behind the blank week so they're aware of what they are, to himself being a homunculi clone of Number One, the only one without a weakness like that and the crimes he did as a result of trying to carry everything by himself and trying to protect them from the world as he just wanted to give them an opportunity to live a normal life but realized he hadn't trusted them to figure out a solution alongside him but that he is working towards finding a cure for everyone so they could walk into the sun without issues and that the "dead" Homunculous is in the old lab, including the old CEO if they wish to visit them before they mass produce the cure for the zombified state as they got something to help him along with that part but also warns not everyone took the disguised blood check so some citizens didn't get a homunculous copy. And unlike Number One, Makoto was telling it all in a tone of guilt, regret and sorrow.

"....I know it's a lot to take in. I suggest taking the time you need to properly process the weight of it all. I'll await your response once you do. If you want me to appoint a better CEO then i will. The future of the city and your lives is something you all should have a say in so think carefully. Thank you for the concern you have showed me today." He bowed and didn't say much else. Letting them have the time to properly start thinking about it. He knew his confession would give the CIA agent all the reasons for an arrest so he will have to eventually discuss with the guy and come to an agreement.

*In Kanai Ward, a researcher that works at the Amaterasu Corporation was clocking out of work and was on his way home. He goes down an empty pathway in the Dohya District when suddenly he hears something. It sounded like wet footsteps approaching from behind. The researcher turns around.*

Researcher: "Hello?....Is somebody there?.........If this is about the work load, then complain to the boss!" *He saw nobody but still heard the water slapping noises. The researcher starts to back up until he bumps into something. He turns around and screams, dropping whatever he was carrying before being taken and pulled into the flooded waters. The next day, Yakou returns to his submarine to find something surprising. He found a group of 4 hippie looking young adults and a brown dog sleeping on his floor. Now how and when did these guys get into his submarine?* @would-you-like-a-scooby-snack

Yakou nearly dropped his cigarette and soon stared at the gang in disbelief.

"What the hell? Did i leave the sub unlocked or something? Who are you guys and why are you all inside my submarine? How did you even get inside for that matter?" Sounds like he's panicking a bit. "I don't have anything of value that you can steal." And now he's worried they might be burglars.

[liberty-barnes]

to the girls made of glass

Arthur Leclerc x Female!Reader

Part 2 to you will not always want to shatter

Summary: The next day. (In hindsight, he doesn't know why he told his family anything) 

Warnings: mostly fluff but also this turned out sadder than i expected it to? but happy ending dw, lorenzo has eldest child syndrome, mentions of masculinity and its expectations in our patriarchal world, mentions of the media being dicks (specifically about a child being born out of wedlock)

Word Count: 2.5k words + however many are in the texts

Estimated Reading Time: 16 minutes

A/N: i don't know how but i ended up making a part two so. enjoy, i suppose! don't forget to add yourself to my taglist if you wanna be notified in the future <3

the purse mentioned in this fic is the Multitaker Bag in Blush by Poppy and Peonies aka my dream bag (and the essentials is indeed all of my essentials...might have a problem)

Title from Shelby Leigh's book girl made of glass

Masterlists | Formula One RI Masterlist | Taglist

Arthur took a deep breath, shaking his hands at his side, trying to shake off his nervousness as well. 

07:58.

He rang the doorbell.

There was some shuffling on the other side of the door before it opened and he was face to face with her again.

(Y/n).

“Hi, love, come on in, I’ve just gotta get my purse, which is… somewhere, surely.”

Embarrassingly, he was frozen in place. 

“Arthur?”

“You look really pretty.”

He could feel his cheeks heat up as soon as those words made it out of his mouth. That was supposed to be an inside thought. Was it too much to ask for the ground to swallow him whole?

She smiled at him, eyes going all soft and shiny and… wow. Just wow.

“You’re cute.”

She grabbed the front of his sweater and dragged him inside. He really should try to care more about her manhandling him. Surely, normal people would feel disgruntled by it, right?

Meh, who cares? Not him.

A loud skidding sound made him snap his head to the ground, right before Circe collided with his shins.

“Oh, hello there.”

She made a sound which he could only described as an impatient scream, rubbing herself all over every part of him she could reach, stretching her paws as high as they could go. He crouched down to pet her, although frankly, it felt a lot more like she was the one headbutting his hand hard enough that he feared there would be bruises.

“Yeah, fun fact, she’s actually an absolute menace and she missed you a lot. She tends to scream if we don’t immediately give her attention.”

He frowned.

“But she was so calm yesterday.”

(Y/n) only cackled loudly, clipping on her earrings. 

“Yeah, cause she was on her absolute best behaviour until she was sure you were infatuated with her. That’s gone out the window now, I’m afraid.”

She looked around her, huffing loudly.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, where did I put that damned purse? I swear my things always decide to disappear the moment I need them.”

Arthur looked up from Circe’s very soft fur to where (Y/n) was standing right in front of him, hands on her hips.

Huh. Nice view.

Shut up, Arthur.

“What does it look like? I’ll help you find it.”

“It’s a blush pink bag from Poppy and Peonies, it’s got black edges, and creases on the sides from the amount of times I’ve managed to overload it.”

He nodded and got up, moving along with her while looking for the bag. There was a bag on her kitchen counter. Pink. black edges. Creases on the sides. “Um, is this… is this the bag?”

He pointed at it, and (Y/n) looked up from her spot near the couch in the living room.

“Yes! You found it! Thank you so much, angel, can you bring it to me?”

He lifted it up, surprised at the weight of it. She walked over and took it from him effortlessly.

“Um… Are you sure you’re gonna need all that?”

She nodded, putting on her shoes.

“Of course, it’s only the essentials.”

He blinked at her. His essentials were his phone, wallet, and keys. Those fit in his pockets.

“Essentials?”

“Yeah, you know. Phone, keys, wallet–”

Okay, so, much the same.

“A small first aid kit, small water bottle, chapstick–”

That was understandable.

“Phone charger, a bag of period essentials, pen, tiny notepad, chewing gum–”

Right, it was starting to sound like a bit much for a trip to the bakery.

“Makeup wipes, tissues, hard candies for if my sugar drops, a pill organiser with all the tablets needed in case of an emergency, headphones–”

She was still going?

“Sunglasses, mirror, portable toothbrush and paste, tiny makeup bag with my essentials, mini deodorant, mini perfume, mini hand lotion, mini sunscreen–”

Arthur didn’t even know so many miniatures existed.

“Nail file, fidget toy, and a Swiss army knife. The essentials.”

Arthur thought back to his mother and the giant purse she carried everywhere. And how Charlotte and Alexandra always had an extra ‘big’ purse that they left in the car when going out in addition to their ‘small’ purse that they took outside with them. Wisely, he decided it was best not to comment.

“Makes sense.”

The smile he got in return was definitely worth his silence.

“Alright, let’s go then.”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the flat, leaving a disgruntled Circe behind.

He couldn’t find it in himself to do anything but smile about it.

—

The bakery was really nice. (Y/n) ordered a hot chocolate, despite the weather being nowhere near cold enough to warrant it. They sat outside, on a little two-person couch, facing the water.

It was nice. Peaceful. Comfortable.

He brought the cappuccino he ordered to his mouth.

“So, what did you tell your family about me?”

His guardian angel must have been watching over him because he narrowly avoided choking on his sip of coffee.

He looked at her, wide-eyed.

“How did you know I told my family about you?”

She smirked mischievously and he felt a chill go down his spine.

“I didn’t.”

He blinked at her.

“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I expected you to. So, what did they say?”

She ‘expected him to’? 

Maybe his mom and sisters-in-law were right when they said she knew how pathetic he was.

“Well, Lorenzo’s convinced you’re secretly an axe murderer.”

She laughed loudly, eyes crinkling shut.

“Fortunately, he’s alone in that thought. Everyone else was just happy I met someone…”

He hesitated, deciding to keep the rest to himself, but something must have shown on his face because she suddenly turned to him.

“There’s something else.”

He avoided her eyes.

“Come on then, out with it. There’s nothing you can say that I’ll take offence to.”

“Well, um… They just said that uh… They kinda… forgot? That your dad had an older daughter. Since you didn’t go to races a lot, but your siblings showed up every now and then when Kimi was still racing.”

It felt awkward to say. Uncomfortable. But she surprised him yet again by not appearing the slightest bit offended, only smiling in a bittersweet way.

“Yeah. Dad learned early on that it was safer for me to stay out of the public eye. I went to races almost all the time, actually, people just never saw me cause I stayed out of the way.”

“But your siblings–”

“Were born of a happy, loving marriage. Whenever they’re mentioned, the media just focuses on how well-raised they are, and how sweet it is to see them support their father. As for me… It didn’t quite work the same way. Whenever people were reminded of my existence, they just wanted to see how bad of a fuck-up Kimi Räikkönen’s bastard daughter would grow up to be. Dad didn’t want people talking about me that way, so he made sure they never talked about me at all.”

She stared out at the horizon, only a small hint of sadness present in her voice.

“That must have been hard.”

She pursed her lips.

“It was, at first. It took me a while to understand why I couldn’t be in the garage with everyone else, watching the race, hugging him for good luck before he went out. But the older I got, the more I came to appreciate it. Even though he couldn’t show it to the world, I never doubted that Dad loved me. I didn’t get to be my father’s daughter in the way my siblings do, but I got to be myself in a way they likely never will. I got to grow up without cameras in my face, without people gasping whenever they heard my name. I could go out with my friends and make mistakes without fear of the consequences. I got to choose what I wanted to do with my life without the general public’s opinions clouding my judgment. That’s a luxury people like me don’t often get.”

He couldn’t help but imagine a little (Y/n) in the Ferrari garage, wanting to wish her Dad good luck but being unable to because of the cameras around.

“You’re very strong, you know? I don’t know if I could be as understanding about it if I’d been in your shoes.”

She shrugged.

“It is what it is. No point in crying about it.”

She looked back at him with an easy smile on her face.

“What about now, though? Do you still have to hide?”

She tilted her head to the side.

“I mean, I don’t have to, I just don’t have a reason to change. The media would probably focus on all the wrong things in my life, only thing they’d care about is that I don’t have a job that makes money.”

“How so?”

“I got a Bachelor’s in business and comp sci, but I never wanted to just work for a greedy capitalistic company. It’s just not me. I’m lucky that my dad has more than enough money to provide for our family for generations to come, so I wanted to give back, in a way. I work as a web manager for a few charities around the globe, all non-profit, and do a ton of volunteering in my free time. But that means that my only source of income is my trust fund and the money my dad sends me.”

He looked at her with barely concealed awe in his eyes.

“(Y/n), fuck… That’s amazing, that you’re doing all this.”

She shrugged.

“I like it. And Dad supports me wholeheartedly. But if the media knew–”

“They would just paint you as another spoiled nepo baby who refuses to get a job.”

“Exactly.”

He felt–

Honestly, he couldn’t fully describe what he felt. Anger. Sadness. Righteous fury. The sudden and overwhelming urge to wrap himself around her like an octopus and shield her from the media’s eyes.

“Are you done with your drink and food?”

He blinked at her.

“Um… Yes?”

She smiled mischievously again, like the previous conversation had never happened.

“Good. Because we have reservations in thirty minutes.”

“Wait, what?”

“What is this place?”

He looked around in wonder. Everything was so colourful, so big. He could practically feel his body buzzing with energy.

“Trampoline park. Usually it’s full of people, but on a Tuesday at half nine in the morning? I’d be surprised if we weren’t the only ones here.”

She walked over to the reception desk, leaving Arthur to look around in wonder. There was a foam pit, rope ladders, and was that a climbing wall?

“Come on, pretty boy, leave your stuff in the locker and take off your shoes, time to have some fun.”

He felt his cheeks heat up at the nickname. He practically tripped over himself to get ready.

“Off we go.”

She took his hand and started to run in the direction of the trampolines.

He looked at the smile on her face and had the sudden thought that, so as long as she kept smiling at him like that, he’d follow her to hell and back.

—-—

Arthur was asleep on her couch. After two hours spent at the trampoline park and a hearty meal of lasagna and steamed broccoli, he seemed to have fallen into a coma, head pillowed on her thighs and arms hugging Circe to his chest.

She ran her fingers through his scalp absentmindedly. She’d changed the channel as soon as he’d fallen asleep, continuing her rewatch of Bones. There was no work to be done today, so she could afford to relax.

Her eyes were starting to get heavy when her phone beeped with a notification.

By the time she put the phone down and looked back at Arthur, he was awake and staring at her with sleep-filled eyes.

“Hey, baby boy. How you feeling?”

He hummed, nuzzling into her hand.

“Still tired?”

He nodded, eyes fluttering close when she hit a spot on his scalp that practically made him purr.

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

His voice sounded hoarse from sleep, but oh so adorable.

“Yeah, love?”

“Why do you do that?”

She furrowed her brows.

“Do what?”

It seemed to take an eternity for him to voice out what he was thinking.

“The nice things. You made me food, and paid for our breakfast, and you drove and opened the door for me. Why?”

She shrugged minutely.

“I don’t know. I guess I just enjoy taking care of you. Do you not like it?”

“No, I do!”

He looked like he was afraid she’d stop if he didn’t get the words out fast enough. To be honest, it was quite sweet.

“It feels nice…”

She traced the blush on his cheeks with the pads of her fingers, feeling her carefully guarded heart want to burst out of her chest and hand itself over to Arthur.

“Well, good. You deserve to be taken care of.”

He kept looking at her while she gently ran her fingers all over his face, feather-light, tracing constellations in the barely-there freckles.

“I wanna date you. But I don’t think we should.”

She fought against her every instinct to bristle and lash out. It felt awfully familiar to be told she “shouldn’t” date someone. But what was it this time? Was it the money? The fame? The media?

Or was one day enough for Arthur to realise she was simply not good enough? 

That no matter how hard she tried, she was still nothing more than a bastard child, abandoned by her mother, abandoned by the world, never deserving of anything more than she was already lucky enough to have?

“If you date me you’ll be back in the public eye. People are gonna take pictures of us everywhere. And they’ll tear you apart just for being with me. But you’ve worked too hard to create a safe life. I’m not worth you giving that up.”

She locked eyes with him.

“You should not be trusted to make decisions if you’re gonna be self-deprecating about them.”

“It’s true though, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” she ran her thumbs under the dark circles that still stained his eyes. “But shouldn’t that be my choice to make?”

“You’re too good for me anyway.”

She laughed ruefully, heart starting to beat a bit faster.

“Many people would disagree.”

“Many people would be wrong.”

“I disagree.”

“Then you’re wrong.”

He said it with such conviction, such absolute certainty, like he was shattering years upon years of her feelings of inadequacy.

“Where did you even come from?”

He blinked innocently up at her.

“My mother’s vagina.”

She pushed him off the couch.

translations for the finnish (which i got off google so pls forgive any mistakes)

I love you, dad

I love you too, snowflake

tadaaa! hope you guys enjoyed that! before you ask, no, i do not have any plans to make a part 3 to this for two reasons: first is because idk what i would write, and second is because the quote that these fics were named after (to the girls made of glass / you will not always want to shatter) was a two-part one and i don't know what i'd name the third. so it will stay as a duology.

Don't forgot to comment and reblog, asks and DMs are always open!

-Love, Miah <3

For the people that wanted part 2:

@aykxz98 @camelliaflow3r @sarah-thatstings-ann @sinofwriting @mountainshuman

[kpopsexstories]

One-shot #22: SKZ the Morning After a Crazy Party

This is the 22nd story in my broader Mixed One-shots series. Unlike my Quick Fix series, One-shots are usually longer and more story-driven.

Celebrities: Stray Kids (x Female Reader)

Sex Content: Missionary, Doggy Style, Blowjob, Cumshot, In public/watching, Gay & straight

Type of Sex: UNCONVENTIONAL

Word Count: 3.9k

Request: Your txt ot5 stories are the hottest thing ever, you really should write more ot5 or member x member stuff in the future <3

Story: It's the morning after an incredible party when the boys of SKZ and their girlfriends are slowly waking up and starting to remember...

First of all, thanks for the request 😊😘

I too love OT stories, but especially the ones that aren't exaggeratedly gay (like the Dating Ban series is 😅). For example, I enjoy writing the Group Jerk-off stories (the members of a group jerk off together even though it's new to them/not something they usually do).

Your request, however, inspired me to write this Stray Kids story. It's actually my first Stray Kids story ever for most of the members. The story is different – and in my opinion more fun – because it has a bit of everything: straight sex, gay sex, nudity with implied sexual relations, and a few surprises along the way.

It's a fun and hot mess, in a good way 😅 So please enjoy this Stray Kids adventure, which is about what happens when they – and their female guests – wake up the morning after a crazy party in their dorm 😊😏😱😜

SKZ the Morning After a Crazy Party

It's the morning after a big Stray Kids dorm party that got a little out of control.

It was celebration of some sort. You can't really remember the reason you all got together. But when you wake up naked in Hyunjin's bed just before noon it doesn't really matter. All that matters is that you had a lot of fun, and you can feel it in your heart that you really did.

It takes you a second to orient yourself. “Morning,” Hyunjin says when he sees that you're conscious. He doesn't smile, doesn't kiss you, yet it's totally natural and normal that you're there in bed with him. It's happened before, on numerous occasions, even though you swear you're not a couple.

“Morning,” you reply and yawn. You stretch out, and the duvet slides down your legs.

Hyunjin sits up with his back toward you. He's hardly conscious either. His hair is a mess. He's hungover, tired, and butt naked. It really was a great party, and a great night.

He gets up and looks around the room. He lifts the duvet, revealing your exposed vagina but doesn't even glance at it. “Where the fuck is my underwear?” he mumbles and you giggle while you watch his slack dick swinging around.

He can't find them, nor any of the rest of his clothes. Oh well. Who cares? Not him anyway.

“Can you get me some water?” you ask and turn on your side.

Finally, a smile. “Sure,” Hyunjin says. He gives up the search and walks toward the door.

His tall, slim, sexy body and hot ass make you smile too. Memories from last night return. Oh yeaaah, you think excitedly as you just realized where his clothes actually went. But you choose not to tell him.

You don't say anything and he's not bothered anyway. He opens the door and leaves, walking naked through a hall and the shared living room toward the kitchen.

He wants to make a pit stop in the bathroom. He opens the door to it and sees Lee Know in his underwear, doing his best not to miss considering how the room is spinning.

“Sorry,” Hyunjin mumbles and walks away. He doesn't even close the door. Lee Know turns his head just in time to see his friend disappear.

Hyunjin enters the living room, where most of the party took place. There's empty bottles and cups everywhere, and a deck of playing cards spread all across the floor.

Felix is sleeping on the couch in nothing but his underwear. There's a naked girl on his arm, and another curled up by his feet. They're all passed out and oblivious to the fact that people are starting to wake up all around them.

In the kitchen, Bang Chan is staring into the fridge, questioning his life choices and wondering why the hell he hasn't been able to locate any of his clothes.

“Morning,” Hyunjin says and his naked friend turns his head.

“Morning,” Bang Chan replies. He grabs a carton of milk and walks to the counter, takes a glass out of a cupboard and fills it.

“Sorry,” Hyunjin says when he reaches in front of Bang Chan’s bare chest to get a glass for himself.

Lee Know is done in the bathroom. He walks through the living room and steps over Seungmin's legs. Hyunjin didn't even notice the man sleeping under the coffee table. When Lee Know returns to his bedroom he closes the door with a loud bang.

The noise wakes up one of the girls on the couch. She opens her eyes and lifts Felix's foot which was buried in her armpit. She finds a soiled blanket on the floor, wet and smelling of beer and vodka, pulls it over her naked body, and promptly goes back to sleep.

Felix briefly wakes up from the movement. He scratches his balls and turns his head, his lips resting on the face of the girl on his arm while he absentmindedly strokes her back. Then he quickly falls asleep again too.

Hyunjin turns on the kitchen tap and fills his glass with water. He drinks it, gulps it all down in one swift sweep, then fills it again.

“Last night was fun,” Bang Chan says and turns around. He leans his ass against the counter, dick out in the open and his buff body on full display, slowly sipping his milk which leaves a mustache.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin says and smiles. He drinks from the glass again and refills it one more time. “You've got something there,” he says and points at the milk line on Bang Chan's upper lip.

“Where?” Chan asks and takes the glass away from his face.

Hyunjin moves closer. “Right there,” he says and points.

Bang Chan stares at his friend and instinctively closes his eyes. Hyunjin leans all the way in and they kiss.

“There,” Hyunjin says and smiles, and drags a thumb over the lip after a few seconds of making out. “Now it's gone.”

Bang Chan tiredly and casually watches as Hyunjin leaves the kitchen. Then he takes another sip and the mustache is back.

“Ouch!” Seungmin exclaims when he tries to sit up and hits his head on the coffee table. Hyunjin doesn't pay him any attention, fully focused on carefully stepping over bottles and scattered clothes – none of which are his own – while trying to ignore his pounding headache.

Jeongin makes an appearance. He comes out from his bedroom in underwear and a t-shirt and bumps into Hyunjin in the hallway which causes water to spill on the floor.

“Sorry man,” he says. Hyunjin smiles and grunts, and sees Changbin's shirtless back in Jeongin’s bed when he passes the open door.

You've been waiting patiently for Hyunjin to return. When he does, he quietly closes the door behind him and hands you the glass. He spills more water on the sheet during the handover but neither of you are bothered by it.

“Thanks,” you say and sit up, then take several large gulps. You're slowly starting to come back to life.

Hyunjin walks to his window and opens the blinds. Sunlight hits his skin and your eyes, and you quickly turn away and groan.

Hyunjin scratches his stomach and admires the view, but only for a short time. He too is blinded and he soon shuts out the light again.

“Come here,” you say and move up on the bed, lifting the duvet to invite the man in. Hyunjin smiles at you and comes over, then crawls inside and cuddles up with you while you put away the glass.

*****

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

Felix wakes up from the sound with morning wood.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

The girl in his arm lifts her head and looks confused. “What's going on?” she asks in a coarse voice.

BANG!-BANG!-BANG!-BANG!-BANG!-BANG!-BANG!

“I don't know,” Felix says and looks around.

“AHH! AHH! AHH!” a deep voice pants from somewhere in the apartment. BANG!-BANG!-BANG!-BANG!

Seungmin's head abruptly pops up behind the coffee table. He sits up straight on the floor and stares right ahead while listening intently. Bang Chan sticks his head out from the kitchen and grins when his eyes meet Felix’s.

A woman screams: “YEAH! YEAH! OH YEAH! YES! YES! YES! YEEES!”

‘Lee Know?’ Bang Chan mouths and Felix slowly nods.

“YEAH! YEAH!”

“AHH! AHH!”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

…

Bang!

…

Bang!

…

“Ahhhhh!”

…

The apartment falls silent. The three men in the living room look at each other and burst out laughing. Even Felix's girl chuckles.

When Lee Know has clearly finished, Bang Chan returns to the kitchen. Felix smiles wide and massages his strong boner. The girl on his arm rests her head on his chest and looks down, hungover but fascinated by Felix's body. The one by his feet is still sound asleep under the blanket, completely oblivious to the loud and obvious sounds of sex.

*****

You and Hyunjin smile and giggle when the noise stops. “Who do you think that was?” he asks before gently kissing your forehead.

“No idea,” you say and reach down with your hand under the duvet. “But it made me horny.”

Hyunjin's smile grows even bigger. You kiss and he attacks you with his hands. You both giggle and roll around on the bed, making out while he gets hard and you spread your legs.

*****

“Oh, sorry,” Seungmin says when he enters Jeongin’s room, but he still goes in without remorse.

Changbin is standing naked on all four on the bed. He turns his head and smiles. “It's okay,” he says, not a hint of shame or embarrassment. But Seungmin is neither looking nor listening. He just wants to get his clothes and get out, and leave his friends to do what they're doing in peace.

“I'll just get these,” he says and picks up a shirt and a pair of pants from the floor.

Jeongin, who's on his knees behind Changbin, is frozen and doesn't speak. He waits for Seungmin to get what he came for and go away. Once he does and the door closes again, he returns his focus to Changbin's ass and continues to slowly fuck his boyfriend.

*****

Bang Chan walks naked through the apartment to assess the damage. He wipes milk off his lip with the back of his hand before he picks up a couple of bottles from the living room table.

He brings them to the kitchen but it doesn't really make a difference. He's finally sufficiently conscious to analyze the situation, take stock and remember what the hell happened last night. But he's in no mood to actually clean up, not yet. All that can wait until they've all sobered up, which will likely take the entire day.

“Where's Changbin?” he asks when he comes back out into the living room. It's one of only two members he hasn't seen or heard yet all morning.

Felix is still on the couch, wide awake by now, underwear on the floor beside him and his girl leaning over his bare stomach.

“I don't know,” he says and shrugs.

The girl briefly stops bobbing her head up and down. Felix's hard dick falls out of her mouth but she quickly picks it up and puts it back in.

A passionate noise suddenly appears from behind Jeongin's closed door. “Huuh, huuh, huuh, AHHHH!” Jeongin grunts when he comes, and Bang Chan and Felix both look up.

“That answers that question,” Bang Chan says and laughs.

“Yeah,” Felix says and puts his head back down. He faces the ceiling, closes his eyes and moans. “Yeeah. Yeeeah.”

Bang Chan smirks and leaves the naked bodies on the couch to it, continuing his walk though the apartment. The girl giving Felix a blowjob can't help but glance in his direction, just in time to see Bang Chan’s firm cheeks disappear into the hallway.

*****

“Is Han in here?” Chan asks when he pops his head into the room Seungmin and Han share. It's the obvious place to look in.

Seungmin is dressed and lounging on his bed, aimlessly scrolling through his phone.

“No,” he says and holds the phone up. “But have you seen this?”

Bang Chan walks closer. There's screams and laughter coming from the phone. The video quickly ends before his brain can register what's going on in it, but he chuckles nonetheless and Seungmin appears happy about it.

“Nice,” Bang Chan says when Seungmin leans back on the bed and returns to the screen. Then he turns around to continue his mission of making sure everything and everyone are okay.

*****

You're on your back with your knees and feet in the air. Hyunjin's slender but muscular body rocks back and forth in your arms. His hard dick is inside you and his face is buried in your neck. You're surprised but happy that he's got the energy.

“Huuh, huuh, huuh, AHHHH!” you hear from somewhere outside, when Jeongin releases his load into his boyfriend's ass several rooms away.

The sounds of pleasure carry through the apartment. And hearing his friends fuck turns Hyunjin on even more. He moves his ass up and down a little faster, and you begin to pant faintly at the ceiling, still too drunk to fully engage in the morning sex, yet definitely enjoying the sensation of Hyunjin's body and throbbing dick.

There's a knock on the door before you're finished. Bang Chan opens it without waiting for a response and you turn your head to look. Hyunjin doesn't stop or even react.

“Have you seen Han?” the man in the door asks while looking directly at you.

“No,” you say while Hyunjin presses his nose harder against the side of your face. The dick slides in and out of your vagina and you feel his warm breath on your skin.

Bang Chan comes in and sits down on the bed beside you. He smiles and grabs his own slack dick with one hand and strokes your raised leg with the other. You smile at each other while Hyunjin fucks you harder, both fully aware that the man is about to come.

“Mm, mm,” you moan to edge him on, and maybe to tease Chan too. You close your eyes and pant loudly at the ceiling. “Ahh, ahh, ahh!”

Hyunjin’s body stiffens. His ass moves even faster when Bang Chan's hand touches it. He suddenly holds his breath and you squeeze his body tight, until he reaches his climax and release.

“Mm, Mm, Mm, MMMMPFHH!” he groans into your neck. “MM, MMMMM!”

His body jolts and slams against your pelvis. The dick throbs inside you. You open your eyes and smile as it fills you up with cum.

“Ahhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhhhhhh,” he exhales deeply while catching his breath. Bang Chan strokes your leg again and you smile when your eyes meet.

“Ahhhh,” Hyunjin exclaims one last time. Then his muscles relax and he finally lifts his head.

“Sorry,” he says. “I haven't seen him either.”

“Okay,” Bang Chan says and stands up. “Thanks.”

He's rock hard by now, still holding his erection between his fingers, when he turns away from you, walks out, and closes the door behind him.

*****

Felix kicks with his leg when he's about to come. It abruptly wakes up the girl under the blanket by his feet.

She spots her best friend with his dick in her mouth which makes her smile. Felix opens his eyes and glances down at her when she takes his foot and puts her lips on it. She smiles seductively at him and sticks out her tongue, licking and wetting his toes before sucking them.

Felix is so mesmerized by what she's doing to him that he almost forgets about the girl blowing his dick entirely. But the dick doesn't, and it suddenly reaches the high that was already so close.

“Ahh, fuck!” he exclaims when he's brought over the edge. One girl is sucking his big toe harder while the other is holding his shaft by the root and bobbing her head faster. “Ah, yeah, fuuuuuck!”

Felix groans in his deepest, manliest voice which turns the girls on. They glance at each other, lust and desire in their eyes, when Felix erupts and shoots his load into the mouth.

The girl twitches when his warm sperm hits her gum. Her friend stops licking the foot and smiles at them both, fully aware of what just happened. Then Felix chuckles which makes the girls giggle, and all three of them touch and caress each other as they digest what they've just experienced.

The dick falls out of the mouth once it's empty. The girl lies back down on his arm and they kiss. The one at the other end turns on her back and pulls Felix's leg closer, letting it rest on her breast while they all relax.

“You're amazing babe,” Felix whispers and smiles wide. He feels lucky to have such a promiscuous girlfriend.

The dick is still half hard when Lee Know returns to the living room, wearing a t-shirt and shorts.

“Having fun?” he asks when he sees the threesome on the couch.

“Yeah,” Felix says and grins. “How you feeling?”

“Surprisingly good,” Lee Know says while rushing through the living room. Felix winks at him, knowing very well that the man has a girl in his bed and that they've just finished having sex, probably the reason for Lee Know's great mood despite the hangover they're all going through this morning.

Lee Know is headed for Jeongin's room. “Oops, sorry,” Bang Chan says when the two bump into each other.

“Wow,” Lee Know exclaims when he sees the hard dick between Chan's legs. He laughs and playfully adds: “Keep that thing away from me.”

Bang Chan chuckles. He peeks inside the room of Jeongin and Changbin when Lee Know enters it. The two boyfriends are lovingly spooning each other, Changbin's broad chest and shoulder tightly wrapped in Jeongin's arms.

“Don't mind me,” Lee Know says when he barges in. The boyfriends smile and observe him while he picks up both his own and his girlfriend's clothes from the floor. “Just came for these.”

“Have you seen Han?” Bang Chan asks when Lee Know comes back out.

“Bathroom,” Lee Know quickly responds without stopping.

“Thanks,” Bang Chan says, and Lee Know returns to his room and shuts the door.

“Need a hand with that?” Changbin asks just as Bang Chan is about to turn away.

“Are you offering?” Chan asks and lingers in the door.

“Yeah,” Jeongin says and half way sits up.

Bang Chan hesitates for a moment. Unlike some of the others he wasn't in the boyfriends’ room last night, at least not that he can recall.

What the heck? he thinks to himself and smiles. Then he steps inside the room and closes the door behind him, while Jeongin and Changbin excitedly sit up on their bed.

*****

Han wakes up with a sudden jolt. He's completely disoriented and totally confused. He instinctively grabs on to a plastic curtain by his side and pulls hard on it, causing a metal rod to come loose and fall down.

It hits him hard in the head. “Fuck,” he complains to himself and angrily throws the curtain aside.

Where am I? I'm naked. Is this the sink?

“You okay in there?” a voice calls from outside. Bang Chan knocks on the door but doesn't wait for a response before he opens it.

He bursts out laughing when he sees Han naked in the bathtub, the metal rod in his hand and the curtain on the floor.

“Yeah,” Han grunts. “What happened last night?”

“Fuck if I know. I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

Han looks at Chan's naked body and slack, newly emptied dick. He scratches his head while thinking hard. “Did we…?”

“I think so.”

“Hyunjin's girlfriend.”

“Yeeeah,” Bang Chan says slowly and giggles.

Han finally bursts out laughing too while he tries but fails to sit up straight in the tub.

“I think we need to confiscate Seungmin's phone,” Bang Chan jokes.

“Why?” Han asks. “Oh wait… Oh my God!”

The two naked men burst out laughing. They can hardly control themselves when Felix comes in to join them.

“I need to pee,” he announces and walks straight to the toilet. His nude body sways from side to side when he tries to aim for the bowl and liquid starts flowing.

Changbin suddenly appears too. “Hey,” he says. He's fully dressed and seems exceptionally happy. “What a night huh?”

“Yeah,” Felix says without turning his head.

“What's with the crowd?” Hyunjin asks when he too comes to join. You follow close behind in nothing but your panties, and he puts an arm around you while you look around at all the people in the small space.

“Hey,” Felix's girlfriend says when she comes up behind you.

“Hey,” you exclaim and smile wide when you turn around, then quickly give her a naked hug.

“Join us,” Bang Chan says cheerfully in response to Hyunjin's question.

“Help me up,” Han requests and holds up a hand.

“How you feeling?” you ask and look at your friend when you pull away from her. “You look awful.”

She doesn't respond. Her attention is suddenly on Bang Chan and Han who struggle to get the latter out of the tub.

“Hey, guys!” Felix says loudly to the gathering behind him. “I'm trying to pee here.”

The mood is already great and everyone suddenly laughing loudly. Even Jeongin and Seungmin who are still in their beds chuckle to themselves as they listen to all the commotion.

“Well hurry up, there's a queue,” Hyunjin says and everyone laughs again. You look at his face with love in your eyes and he turns to give you a kiss.

The foot sucker appears behind her bestie and the two embrace. Bang Chan and Han finally succeed. Felix is eventually done and Hyunjin let's you go first like the gentleman he is. The girls behind you keep talking and remembering, and Jeongin can't stop smiling wide to himself.

Meanwhile Seungmin in his room quickly selects a couple of videos and uploads them to the cloud. He'll save them for later, worried that Chan wasn't completely joking about confiscating his phone, and that the hilarious and explosive content might be lost forever if anyone got hold of it.

And Lee Know, he hasn't noticed at all what is going on in the rest of the apartment. He's already balls deep in his girlfriend again, fucking for the fourth time since the party ended and they went to bed.

“Flush after me,” you say when you get up from the toilet, naked and happy. No one but Hyunjin pays any attention to you while you pull your panties back up.

“Sure,” he says and gives you a kiss in passing, before he finally gets to position his dick above the bowl and relieve himself, like he wanted to do when he first got up and brought you the glass of water.

“Oh, by the way,” you say and turn to face him. “I know where your clothes are.”

“Where?” Hyunjin asks and turns his head, while leaning with a hand against the wall over the toilet.

You can't help but smile. “Look out the window in your room again.”

Hyunjin twists his neck to try to glare at you which makes him miss. “What did you do?” he asks and sounds serious, but he can't hide his joy.

“It wasn't me,” you say and walk away through the crowd and chatter.

Hyunjin shakes his head and dick and gives the wall a push. He can't stop grinning from ear to ear as he accepts not only the loss of last night's game, but by the sounds of it his clothes too.

Who's idea was it to play cards anyway? He can't remember, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that it was a hell of a party, and that you'll all be talking about it fondly for years to come.

You stop in the hallway and listen. “YES! YES! YES! YES! Fuck me harder babe! HARDER!”

“Ahh, ahhh, AHHHHH!” Lee Know screams.

Everyone in the bathroom behind you stops talking. Han and Bang Chan look at each other, as do the two girls. Then you all start laughing again, so hard your bellies hurt.

It was a hell of a party indeed.

[flightfoot]

Honestly, overall, I think most of the criticism towards Marinette for her lies and secrets surrounding Gabriel's identity and Sentidrien have at least been relatively on-target. I think some of them have been overly pessimistic towards her, but it hasn't been insane, and it's at least been about things she actually did.

Like, try comparing it to the reaction with Chameleon salt, especially towards Alya. (Yes I'm still bitter about that. I might have stopped being bitter IF IT WASN'T STILL A SUPER POPULAR FREAKING GENRE UNTO ITSELF).

Most of the saltfic scenarios and criticism towards Alya for her actions in Chameleon have been based on "what-ifs" such as "what if she fell for Lila's lies so thoroughly that she believed any nasty thing Lila claimed about Marinette, and then responded by being verbally abusive towards Marinette and even outright violent towards her, outright bullying her even." Making this gigantic leap from "She can't clock Lila's lies" to "she will be more horrible towards Marinette as a consequence of those nasty things she says than we've seen her be towards her worst enemies." And then also writing or fantasizing about her being punished by like, losing her ability to get a job in the future, being disowned by all her friends, having grown celebrities say nasty things about her, etc.

Most of the Marinette salt I've seen has been more limited in scope, with most of it being about actual things she did in the show, though sometimes ascribing nastier, more malicious intentions than the narrative does, like having her treat Chat Noir like a tool or being interested in her own comfort at other's expense. But it's still using actual examples of things that happened in the show for it.

Like... the closest equivalent of the Alya bashing fic tsunami that resulted from Chameleon would be, when applied to the stuff Marinette's being salted for currently (well, some of it. The Alya bashing fic stuff is SO out of proportion I don't know that it's possible to do this in a totally proportional way) would be for Marinette to take the fact that she was given Adrien's Amoks and that he doesn't know about them, for her to mind-control him into being her boyfriend, using them to force him to have sex with her and drain all of his bank accounts for her, and then having his friends realizing what she's doing to him, beat her up, ruin her for life, and for Adrien to leave and find a better girlfriend.

Like with Alya bashing fics, it's following off of a "what if?", in this case, "what if Marinette kept the rings and was a way more awful person than she's ever been shown to be in the show." Similarly, Alya bashing fics tend to use the "what if" of "what if Lila told far worse lies about Marinette than we've seen, and Alya was a way worse person than she's ever demonstrated to be?" And yeah, in the Marinette scenario here, we actually see her giving Adrien back his Amoks. But given that he doesn't know what they are, she could feasibly ask for them back without him knowing how important it is that he keeps them. Also Alya has demonstrated that she won't believe particularly nasty lies that Lila tells about Marinette, even with evidence (we see that in Ladybug), but that hasn't stopped the saltfic industry from flourishing in the half a DECADE since that episode aired.

The fact that I'm not continuously seeing 15% or so of Miraculous fics making Marinette out to be mind-controlling abusive rapist in order to have Adrien and his friends take revenge on her shows how much more sane and reasonable the current wave of Marinette salt is from the STILL ONGOING Chameleon saltdom tsunami.

...I'm still just very bitter about this. I still see people asking for these kinds of fics like they're just normal things, and even with filtering them out and muting people, I still run into fics regularly that do this sort of crap to Alya (and a lot of the other ML characters to be fair, but Alya gets it the worst.) And it just makes me laugh whenever I see people complaining about how unfairly hostile the ML fandom is being towards Marinette because it's STILL, even now, six years after Chameleon aired, less than the shit towards Alya, and I feel like I'm yelling into the void to an extent here because it's been normalized to the extent that it's just priced into the Miraculous fandom it sometimes feels like. When it's so far outside the bound of any realm of normality or sanity relative to the shit thrown at most of the other characters, that it becomes comical when you actually try to put them into proportion with each other.

I still just can't stop feeling this festering bitterness about the unfairness of it all.

[ultravioletqueen]

I want to share this idea that came to me while listening to Epic the Musical while thinking about Twisted Wonderland!

Imagine certain twisted wonderland characters with a male reader as Telemachus of Ithaca.

Telemachus!reader is cheerful, brave, kind, and temperamental, with a thirst for adventure and a great love for his family. He comes from the island of Ithaca and is heir to the throne of the kingdom of the same name.

I imagine Telemachus!reader is more likely to end up at Royal Sword Academy than Night Raven College for obvious reasons, but I imagine he could still interact with some of the characters for political reasons in other kingdoms.

Imagine Telemachus!reader being Leona's friend thanks to family connections! Leona being the black cat while Telemachus!reader being a freaking golden retriever.

Leona and reader probably knew each other from a very young age through business dealings with the Ithaca royal family in Sunset Savanah and vice versa, remaining friends from childhood through adulthood.

Telemachus!reader wants to push Leona to give his all because "if he doesn't graduate, how can he expect to be able to help him with his kingdom when he needs it!?" And while Leona normally doesn't take him seriously, he also cares about Telemachus!reader and his mother. He's seen how suitors are with the maids and with Telemachus!reader. He won't admit it, but he would turn the suitors into sand if they dared to touch a hair on his friend (and future husband, but he doesn't know that) and his mother (aka the woman who gave him more maternal affection than his own mother growing up).

Their favorite activity to do together is probably fighting each other using spears/swords or their bare hands. Leona has been defeated more times than he'd like to admit, and Telemachus!reader enjoyed every second of it.

GOD, IMAGINE LEONA WHEN SHE FINDS OUT ABOUT THE MASSACRE OF THE SUITERS. The guy swore he was going to get gray hair when he received the news that the Prince of Ithaca, along with his father (the king who disappeared 20 years ago), murdered the 108 suitors after discovering them plotting the death of the royal family.

Leona goes FULL SPEED AHEAD to check if Telemachus!reader is okay, and he is! But he also reeks of blood, and the castle is painted red with the blood of the suitors. he probably kicked the corpse of some suitor he didn't like (I mean, everyone), and he congratulated Telemachus!reader for finally getting rid of the pests infesting the palace of Ithaca.

Obviously, due to the massacre and the PASSIONATE reunion between the king and queen of Ithaca, Telemachus!reader can't sleep in the palace for a few days, so he stays with Leona for a while, causing everyone in Savanaclaw to question Leona's heterosexuality when they see how close he is to the young prince of Ithaca (spoiler:his heterosexuality never existed; lions often show homosexuality). But he doesn't care and doesn't let anyone mess with Telemachus!reader the whole time he stays in Savanaclaw.

If we're already at the stage where they're a couple, I'd say they're very balanced. Leona wants Telemachus!reader to be more assertive and unafraid of seeking out the adventures he craves. he's even willing to accompany him if he goes somewhere particularly dangerous (he complains all the time but never leaves his man alone).

Telemachus!reader, as I said before, wants to help Leona give his all, whether at school or in matters related to Sunset Savannah, because he believes in him and knows he can do more. he's like his personal cheerleader with a phenomenal singing voice.

SPEAKING OF SINGING, Telemachus!reader has a beautiful voice! He probably only sings for his parents and his lover, so Leona is one lucky bastard who gets to enjoy this angel's voice whenever she wants.

Leona has a complicated relationship with Argos, honestly. On one hand, he doesn't like the fact that he's monopolizing his boyfriend's attention by simply existing around him, but he also understands that the dog always came before him.

Over time, he learns to love the old boney guy (that's what he calls him) when he sees his unwavering loyalty. He's also a great naptime companion, so the dog is fine with him.

BONUS: Telemachus!reader's father wasn't very convinced of the relationship between these two because he thought that Leona was only in a relationship with his son to be able to be on the throne (since Leona is not the heir it makes sense that she wants to seek to be king in another monarchy) and tried to give him the shovel talk, but after a sincere talk with Telemachus!reader's mother he was able to see that although Leona is a complicated person with complicated feelings, he genuinely loves his son and would continue to love him if he weren't the heir to the throne of Ithaca, let's say that this was enough to calm Telemachus!reader's father and access his hand in marriage in the future.

Kalim is another interesting case! Since he's practically a second Epic Telemachus, these two are cut from the same cloth. 😅

Kalim loves Telemachus!reader's company and is always welcome to his parties in Scarabia when he feels things are getting too difficult at the Ithaca palace. This only motivates Kalim to throw a BIGGER party to cheer his friend up!

Despite being cheerful, Kalim is NOT ignorant. He knows that Telemachus!reader and his mother are in potential danger at the palace because of the impatient and dangerous suitors. He still remembers when he met Telemachus!reader on a diplomatic mission to Sage Island, and he was covered in bruises because one of the suitors had started a fight by insulting the Queen of Ithaca.

Kalim knows that he can't do much more than be a shoulder to cry on for Telemachus!reader and a confidant but that doesn't mean that he doesn't try to help the royal family in other ways, such as sending "requests" to the queen of Ithaca to make a new rug for Scarabia's bedroom and thus delay the selection of suitors or calling Telemachus!reader at least once a month to come to one of his parties so that he can relax for a while.

AY MAMITA KALIM ALMOST LOSES HIS MIND WHEN JAMIL BROUGHT HIM THE NEWS OF THE ITHACA MASSACRE

Kalim was worried sick for his friend's (and crush's) safety, but he made a surprised Pikachu face when he found out that Telemachus!reader had helped in the massacre and that his father (the king they thought was dead) had returned home and gotten rid of those pigs after hearing them plan to murder the prince and force his way into the queen. It took the poor guy a few minutes to process so much information at once.

It would be very difficult for Kalim to get through the castle, not only because of the lairs but also because the whole place is full of corpses, and he doesn't want to bother the cleaners by making more of a mess than there already is (he probably throws up several times on the way to Telemachus! Reader's room). But when he arrives and sees that his friend is okay, he cries with relief that he actually participated in the massacre and wasn't a victim of it.

Kalim obviously lets Telemachus! Reader stay in Scarabia while they clean the palace (and while his parents are reunited) and throws a big party for him. Even Jamil is happy for Telemachus! Reader to have his father back and that the suitors will never bother him again.

When they become a couple, they both want to seek adventures (much to Jamil's and the Queen of Ithaca's stress), but they both also recognize that they don't yet have the experience or maturity necessary for it, so they agree to wait a few years to be able to travel and seek adventures, while they enjoy their youth.

Kalim wants to hear all the stories Telemachus!Reader knows about his family! From his father's deeds to all the challenges his mother was able to overcome using her wits, these stories make Kalim deeply respect Telemachus!Reader's parents, and he constantly seeks their approval (he doesn't know he already has it).

BOTH BEING MUSICAL PARTNERS, OH MY GOD

Kalim wants to show off his boyfriend's voice at his parties! But he obviously understands if it's something he only does with him and his family. In fact, it makes him feel even happier and luckier since he's part of the select group of people who have heard Telemachus!Reader sing, in addition to sharing other activities like playing instruments or dancing.

Kalim LOVES Argos, whenever he visits the Ithaca family apart from bringing gifts for Telemachus!reader and his mother he also brings gifts for Ithaca's best guardian! toys, dog beds and food of the best quality for the veteran canine, even with all his enthusiasm Kalim always tries to be gentle with him knowing that he is an old and fragile dog but that does not take away the fun of playing with him until both get tired.

BONUS: Kalim has taken Telemachus! reader for a ride on the magic carpet several times, they have explored Sage Island and Ithaca Island at least a dozen times but it never gets boring since they both always have something new to see or a new detail to find, in fact it was on one of these dates that Telemachus! reader sang for Kalim for the first time and he got so excited that they almost crashed into one of the palace walls by not paying attention to the road, it is his favorite anecdote😅

MALLEUS, oh Malleus, is a GREAT GAME for this little prince.

Their dynamic is basically the dragon falling in love with the knight/prince. Malleus becomes a lost puppy when he's with the young prince, and he's always more than happy to have the fairy dragon's company.

I imagine Malleus initially had no interest in Ithaca Island. The only reason he might want to go would be because he respected the queen and wanted to offer an alliance with Ithaca (his grandmother couldn't go and sent him instead) and Briar Valley. However, he didn't expect to meet the cheerful crown prince, who wasn't afraid to face more than 100 suitors to protect his mother's honor. That's what hooked him on the prince in the first place.

But what made Malleus truly fall in love with the young prince was his noble and heroic heart, he was not an arrogant or disrespectful prince as Malleus expected, this sealed the deal for him sincerely.

Their friendship is hilarious, with Telemachus!reader being someone impulsive and jumping straight into confrontation, and Malleus being his intimidating shadow in front of the suitors. As long as Malleus is with him, no one will hurt him, and he's both grateful and a little disappointed that he had to resort to another prince to be respected among the suitors.

Telemachus!reader tries to convince his mother that Malleus isn't as bad as he seems, but it's confirmed only by seeing their interactions. How the Ithacan prince has the Draconia wrapped around his finger and that he keeps playing with a pet Tamagotchi was more than plausible proof that this guy didn't have a bad bone in his body.

Speaking of pets, I feel like Malleus would like to play with Argos, he tries to be gentle with the dog knowing that he is old but he really enjoys it when the dog greets him with such joy when he sees him.

MALLEUS GOES INTO BERSERK MODE WHEN HE LEARNS OF THE ITHACA MASSACRE. It doesn't matter if he teleports or if someone has to carry him, but his priority is to get to Telemachus!reader NOW.

After all the commotion, Malleus is extremely relieved to see his friend completely unharmed, even if he is covered in blood. He tries not to ask too many questions about the massacre other than what happened to start it. When Telemachus!reader explains that he helped his father kill them all, he is quite surprised, but he can easily understand it when he hears the suitors' intentions (which were honestly always very obvious). He may offer his help to get rid of the bodies, but Telemachus!reader states that offering a place to stay for a few days until everything calms down is enough.

Malleus is more than happy to have his prince in diasomnia. He's also happy to see that he gets along well with Lilia (who already senses there's something going on between them), Silver, and Sebek, although part of him already expected it, seeing that Telemachus!reader really wants to make friends and that his aura generally attracts people.

Their relationship as a couple is super sweet and tender. Ironically, Telemachus!reader is the one who takes the lead in the relationship, but Malleus is the one who keeps her boyfriend from getting into trouble because of his temper issues. It's like watching a Doberman keep an eye on a Chihuahua.

Obviously, Malleus trusts his boyfriend's abilities and even blushes when Telemachus!reader is the one protecting him instead of the other way around (especially after chapter 7). He reminds him that this beautiful prince will always protect him too, and makes him feel so, SO loved.

Malleus is more than willing to accompany Telemachus!reader on adventures. Now that he doesn't have so much pressure from being king, he can enjoy his youth more and would be super happy at the idea of ​​going on adventures with his boyfriend (and later future fiancé/husband).

BONUS:Malleus would be willing to ask Telemachus!reader's parents for their blessing to ask for her hand in marriage. Even if he has to face some challenge, he is willing to fight for her love. Although, to his surprise, both of his boyfriend's parents approve and are more than willing to unite both kingdoms to see their son happy. It was a very emotional day for Malleus and Telemachus!reader.

(Español)

¡Quiero compartir esta idea que se me ocurrió escuchando epic the musical mientras pensaba en twisted wonderland!

Imaginen a los personajes de twisted wonderland con un lector masculino como telemaco de ithaca

Telemaco!lector es alegre, valiente, amable y temperamental, con mucha sed de aventura y un gran amor a su familia, proviene de la isla de Ithaca y es heredero al trono del reino con el mismo nombre.

La verdad me imagino que Telemaco!lector tiene más probabilidades de quedar en Royal Sword Academy que en Night Raven College por obvias razones, pero me imagino que todavía podría interactuar con algunos de los personajes por razones políticas de otros reinos.

Imaginen a Telemaco!lector siendo amigo de Leona gracias a las conexiones entre familias! Leona siendo el gato negro mientras que Telemaco!lector siendo un maldito golden retriever.

Probablemente Leona y lector se conozcan desde muy jóvenes por negocios de la familia real de Ithaca en Sunset Savanah y viceversa, siendo amigos desde que son niños pequeños hasta su adultez.

Telemaco!lector quiere impulsar a Leona a dar todo de sí porque "si no se llega a graduar como espera poder ayudarlo con su reino cuando lo necesite!?", y si bien normalmente Leona no se lo toma en serio el también se preocupa por Telemaco!lector y la madre de este, el ha visto como son los pretendientes con las criadas y con Telemaco!lector, no lo admite pero el convertiría a los pretendientes en arena si es que se atreven a tocarle un pelo a su amigo(y futuro esposo pero eso no lo sabe) y a su madre(aka la mujer que le dio más afecto materno que su propia madre mientras crecia).

Su actividad favorita para hacer juntos Probablemente sea pelear entre sí usando lanzas/espadas o sus propias manos, Leona ha sido derrotado más veces de las que le gustaría admitir y Telemaco!lector gozo cada segundo de eso.

DIOS IMAGINEN A LEONA CUANDO SE ENTERE DE LA MASACRE DE LOS PRETENDIENTES, el tipo juraba que le iban a salir canas cuando recibió la noticia de que el príncipe de Ithaca junto a su padre(el rey desaparecido hace 20 años) asesinaron a los 108 pretendientes al descubrirlos planeando la muerte de la familia real.

Leona va A TODA VELOCIDAD a verificar si Telemachus!reader esta bien, ¡y lo está! Pero también apesta a sangre y el castillo está pintado de rojo con la sangre de los pretendientes, probablemente pateo el cadaver de algún pretendiente que le caía mal(osea todos) y felicito a Telemachus!reader por finalmente deshacerse de las plagas que infestaban el palacio de Ithaca.

Obviamente debido la masacre y el APASIONADO reencuentro entre el rey y la reina de ithaca Telemaco!lector no puede dormir en el palacio por unos días así que se queda con Leona un tiempo, haciendo que todos en savanaclaw cuestionen la heterosexualidad de Leona al ver lo cercano que es con el joven principe de Ithaca(spoiler:nunca hubo heterosexualidad, literalmente los leones llegan a ser homosexuales) pero a el no le importa y no deja que nadie se meta con Telemaco!lector el tiempo que se queda en savanaclaw.

Leona tiene una relación complicada con Argos sinceramente, por un lado no le gusta que acapare la atención de su novio simplemente existiendo cerca suyo pero también entiende que el perro siempre estuvo antes que el.

con el tiempoque aprende a querer al viejo huesudo(así es como lo llama) al ver su lealtad inquebrantable, aparte de que es un gran compañero para siestas así que si el perro está bien para el.

Si ya vamos a la etapa en la que son pareja diría que son muy balanceados, Leona quiere que Telemaco!lector sea más asertivo y que no tenga miedo de ir a buscar las aventuras que tanto quiere, incluso esta dispuesto a acompañarlo si va a algún lugar especialmente peligroso(se queja todo el rato pero no deja a su hombre solo en ningún momento).

Telemachus!reader como dije antes quiere ayudad a Leona a dar todo de sí mismo ya sea en la escuela o en asuntos de Sunset Savannah, ya que cree en el y sabe que puede dar más de sí mismo, es como su porrista personal con una voz de canto fenomenal.

HABLANDO DE CANTAR, ¡Telemaco!lector tiene una voz bellísima! Probablemente solo canta para sus padres y su amante así que Leona es un bastardo suertudo que puede disfrutar de la voz de este ángel cuando quiera.

BONUS:el padre de Telemaco!lector no estuvo muy convencido de la relación entre estos dos porque pensaba que Leona solo estaba en una relación con su hijo para poder estar al trono(al Leona no ser el heredero tiene sentido que quiera buscar ser rey en otra monarquía) y trató de darle la charla de la pala, pero después de una sincera charla con la madre de Telemaco!lector pudo ver que si bien Leona es una persona complicada con sentimientos complicados el genuinamente ama a su hijo y lo seguiria amando si no fuera el heredero al trono de Ithaca, digamos que esto fue suficiente para calmar al padre de Telemaco!lector y acceder a su mano en matrimonio en el futuro.

¡Kalim es otro caso interesante! Ya que es prácticamente un segundo telemaco de epic, estos dos salieron del mismo molde😅

Kalim adora la compañía de Telemaco!lector y siempre es bienvenido a sus fiestas en scarabia cuando siente que las cosas son demasiado difíciles en el palacio de Ithaca, ¡eso solo motiva a Kalim a hacer una fiesta MAS GRANDE para animar a su amigo!

Pese a ser alegre Kalim NO es ignorante, sabe que Telemaco!lector y su madre corren potencial peligro en el palacio por culpa de los pretendientes impacientes y peligrosos, todavía recuerda cuando se encontró a Telemaco!lector en una misión diplomatica en sage island y este estaba cubierto de moretones por culpa de uno de los pretendientes que había iniciado una pelea al insultar a la reina de Ithaca.

Kalim sabe que no puede hacer mucho más que ser un hombro para llorar para Telemaco!lector y un confidente pero eso no significa que no intente ayudar a la familia real de otras formas, como enviarle "pedidos" a la reina de Ithaca para hacerle una nueva alfombra para el dormitorio de scarabia y así se retrasa más la selección de pretendientes o llamar aunque sea una vez al mes a Telemaco!lector para que vaya a alguna fiesta suya para que se pueda relajar un rato.

AY MAMITA KALIM CASI PIERDE LA CABEZA CUANDO JAMIL LE DA LAS NOTICIAS DE LA MASACRE DE ITHACA

Kalim estaba preocupado hasta la medula por la seguridad de su amigo(y crush) pero puso cara de pikachu sorprendido cuando se entero que Telemaco!lector había ayudado en la masacre y que su padre(el rey que creían Muerto) había vuelto a casa y se deshizo de esos cerdos al oírlos planear asesinar al príncipe y forzar a la reina, el pobre necesito unos minutos para procesar tanta información de golpe😅

Le sería muy difícil a Kalim pasar por el castillo no solo por los guaridas sino también porque todo el lugar está repleto de cadaveres y no quiere molestar mas a los de limpieza haciendomas desastre del que ya hay(probablemente vomita varias veces en el camino hacia el cuarto de telemaco!lector), pero cuando llega y ve que su amigo está bien llora de alivio de que en realidad si haya participado en la masacre y no haya sido víctima de esta.

Kalim obviamente deja que Telemaco!lector se quede en scarabia en lo que limpian el palacio(y en lo que sus padres se reencuentran) y hace una gran fiesta por el, incluso Jamil esta feliz por Telemaco!lector al tener a su padre de vuelta y que los pretendientes no le volverán a molestar nunca más.

Cuando ya son pareja ambos quieren buscar aventuras(para el estrés de Jamil y la reina de ithaca) pero ambos también reconocen que todavía no tienen la experiencia o la madurez necesaria para ello, por lo que quedan en que esperaran unos años para poder viajar y buscar aventuras, mientras tanto ellos disfrutan de su juventud.

¡Kalim quiere escuchar todas las historias que lector sabe de su familia! Desde las hazañas de su padre hasta todos los desafíos que su madre pudo superar usando su ingenio, estas historias hacen que Kalim respete muchísimo a los padres de lector y busca su aprobación constantemente(el no sabe que ya la tiene).

AMBOS SIENDO COMPAÑEROS MUSICALES DIOS MIOOOO

¡Kalim quiere presumir la voz de su novio en sus fiestas! Pero obviamente entiende si es algo que solo hace con el y su familia, de hecho hace que se sienta aún más feliz y afortunado ya que es parte del selecto grupo de gente que ha oído a reader cantar, aparte de que comparten otras actividades como tocar instrumentos o bailar.

Kalim ADORA a Argos, siempre que visita a la familia de ithaca aparte de traer regalos para Telemaco!lector y su madre ¡también trae regalos para el mejor guardián de Ithaca! juguetes, camas para perro y comida de la mejor calidad para el canino veterano, aun con todo su entusiasmo Kalim siempre trata de ser gentil con el sabiendo que es un perro viejo y frágil pero eso no quita la diversión de jugar con el hasta que ambos se cansen.

BONUS:Kalim ha llevado a Telemaco!lector a pasear en la alfombra mágica varias veces, han explorado sage island y la isla de ithaca aunque sea una docena de veces pero nunca se vuelve aburrido ya que ambos siempre tienen algo nuevo que ver o un nuevo detalle que encontrar, de hecho fue en una de estas citas en la que Telemaco!lector canto para Kalim por primera vez y este se puso tan emocionado que casi chocan con una de las murallas del palacio al no prestar atención al camino, es su anécdota favorita😅

MALLEUS,oh malleus es un PARTIDAZO para este princeso.

Su dinámica es básicamente el dragón que se enamora del caballero/príncipe, Malleus se vuelve un cachorro perdido cuando esa con el joven príncipe y este siempre esta más que feliz de tener la compañía del hada dragón.

Me imagino que en un inicio Malleus no tenía interés en la isla de Ithaca, la única razón por la que podría querer ir seria porque el respetaba a la reina y querría ofrecer una alianza con ithaca(su abuela no podía ir y lo envío en su lugar) con briar valley, sin embargo no esperaba conocer al risueño príncipe heredero que no tenía miedo de enfrentarse a más de 100 pretendientes con tal de proteger el honor de su madre, eso fue lo que lo engancho con el príncipe en primer lugar.

Pero lo que hizo que Malleus realmente quedara prendado del joven príncipe fue su corazón noble y heroico, no era un príncipe arrogante o irrespetuoso como malleus esperaba, esto cerró el trato para el sinceramente.

Su amistad es divertidisima, siendo Telemaco!lector alguien impulsivo que salta directo a la confrontación y Malleus siendo su sombra intimidante ante los pretendientes, siempre y cuando malleus este con el nadie le hará daño y esta entre agradecido y un poco decepcionado de que haya tenido que recurrir a otro príncipe para ser respetado entre los pretendientes😅

Lector trata de convencer a su madre de que Malleus no es tan malo como parece, pero se confirma solo al ver sus interacciones y como el príncipe ithacano tiene al Draconia envuelto alrededor de su dedo y que este sigue jugando con un tamagochi como mascota fue prueba más que plausible que este tipo no tenía ni un hueso malo en su cuerpo.

Hablando de mascotas, siento que malleus le gustaría jugar con Argos, trata de ser delicado con el perro sabiendo que esta anciano pero realmente disfruta cuando el perro lo recibe con tanta alegría cuando lo ve.

MALLEUS SE PONE MODO BERSERK CUANDO SE ENTERA DE LA MASACRE DE ITHACA no importa si se teletransporta o si alguien lo tiene que llevar pero su prioridad es llegar a Telemaco!lector AHORA.

Después de toda la conmocion Malleus esta sumamente aliviado de ver a su amigo totalmente ileso aún si está manchado de sangre, trata de no hacer muchas preguntas respecto a la matanza aparte de que fue lo que ocurrió para que empezará, y cuando Telemaco!lector le explica que ayudo a su padre a matarlos a todos quedo bastante sorprendido pero fácilmente pudo entenderlo al oír las intenciones de los pretendientes(que sinceramente siempre fueron muy obvias) y puede que ofrezca su ayuda para deshacerse de los cuerpos pero Telemaco!lector afirmó que con ofrecer un lugar donde pasar unos días hasta que todo se calme es suficiente.

Malleus esta más que feliz de tener a su príncipe en diasomnia, también se alegra al ver que este se lleva bien con Lilia(que ya siente que hay algo entre los dos), Silver y Sebek, aunque parte de el ya se lo esperaba al ver que Telemaco!lector realmente quiere hacer amigos y que su aura en general atrae a las personas.

Su relación como pareja es super dulce y tierna, irónicamente es Telemaco!lector quien lleva la delantera en la relación pero Malleus es quien evita que su novio se meta en problemas por sus problemas con su temperamento, es como ver un doberman vigilando a un chihuahua😂

Obviamente malleus confía en las habilidades de su novio y hasta se sonroja cuando lector es quien lo protege en vez de ser al revés(especialmente después del capítulo 7), le recuerda que este hermoso príncipe siempre lo protegerá también y lo hace sentir tan, TAN amado😭

Malleus esta más que dispuesto a acompañar a Telemaco!lector a aventuras, ahora que no tiene tanta presión con ser rey el puede disfrutar más su juventud y estaria super feliz ante la idea de ir de aventuras con su novio(y más tarde futuro prometido/esposo).

BONUS:

Malleus estaría dispuesto a pedirle su bendición a los padres de lector para pedir su mano en matrimonio, incluso si tiene que hacer algún reto esta dispuesto a pelear por su amor, aunque para su sorpresa ambos padres de su novio lo aprueban y están más que dispuestos a unir ambos reinos con tal de ver a su hijo feliz, fue un día muy emotivo para malleus y lector.

[sharkyboyatlas]

gonna do this cus some of this stuff is on my brain lol (gonna abbreviate names so I don't have to type them lots lol)

1) A: switch vers, S: usually sub top but doesn't care much, P: usually bratty sub for rich old ladies and dom top to 'people beneath her' lol, E: sub bottom tho might be able to get her to soft dom, L: switch vers

2) A: on: a lot of things but his tail is really sensitive off: not having his consent cnc is fine but true non-con is not his thing, S: on: enjoyable physical stimulation while comfortable and probably while blindfolded off: most people lol, P: on: money lol and pretty ladies off: degrading her outside calling her a brat, E: on: talking about getting her pregnant and having a family together and having like 8 kids off: being a bad parent lol, L: on: being a plant person off: not being a plant person

3) A: depends on how he's feeling and what the other person's doing cus he likes edging so could be hours or minuets just depends, S: not slow enough that it's slow but too slow to not be a little awkward, P: never pretty much (will explain in another of the questions), E: depends but not too long L: similar to ashliy but not hours maybe a single hour at most

4) A: tail, S: sides and most skin he keeps covered lol, P: lower back and on her back around her wing joints, E: hips and back of thighs, L: ankles and wrists cus how much she gets vined lol

5) A: be amusing in some way and have funny reactions, S: befriend him then ask outright or if you don't wanna be his friend just give him money for what you want, P: be a rich old lady or a pathetic girl-failure who basically worships her, E: convince her you're not scary then ask to make babies with her you can skip dating and go straight to marriage with her, L: be a plant person lol no non-plant people have any chance with her

6) A: never cus sex instead unless making cream buns or milking himself, S: never, P: never unless she has to milk herself (the cafe thing caused my pcs to just start lactating like 2 days into it lol), E: only to milk herself, L: just finds a plant person instead lol

7) A: likes positions where subs are on top of the dom cus it's cute, S: likes being able to sit I guess but doesn't care much, P: positions where she is laying down not doing much lol, E: mating press and against walls and stuff, L: a fondness of being vined up in odd ways (upside down, sideways, etc)

8) A: to kylar normally, S: to kylar while kidnapped, P: not yet but will probably be to a rich old lady in the future, E: to Eden, L: to a plant person

9) A: risky or public places, S: places he feels comfortable, P: bed preferably soft bed, E: near/in water, L: forest

10) A: yes by Sydney in the temple lol, S: no, P: no, E: yes by Eden, L: no

11) A: yes he whimpers and gasps a lot, S: no he sorta gasps a little but he's a quiet person, P: yes she even squeals sometimes, E: yes and she moos sometimes too cus cow tf, L: lots of heavy breathing but not much other then that

12) A: yes a lot, S: nope lol, P: yes a few, E: breast pumps, L: nope

13) A: mostly likes to give but also loves receiving, S: does not care leaning towards receiving, P: receiving only lol, E: mostly receiving and sometimes giving a little, L: both

14) A: yes daily multiple times, S: as little as possible, P: once a week after her date with Avery, E: daily until pregnant, L: whenever she finds a plant person

15) A: extreme overstim until his mind is blank, S: not most of the time lol, P: being pampered and spoiled and worshipped, E: being bred, L: plant people and likes being called a 'great pollinator' a lot lol

16) A: slut <3, S:????, P: brat, E: wife <3, L: plant freak

17) A: dick is big in game but I like to think demon magic means he can change it though that would lead to him keeping it a nice easy to fit size until it's in then suddenly making it really big to see their reaction lol and he's almost flat, S: 4-5 in (also hermaphrodite in the game) and flat, P: 30A or maybe 28B, E: 38E at least ? idk big bra sizes cus I'm tiny lol, L: 6 in (also a herm in game) and 32C

18) A: partners and fantasies, S: doesn't, P: doesn't, E: making kids, L: plant people

19) A: Pan and polyamorous, S: greyromantic and ace but sex neutral though most people in town are terrible, P: doesn't label herself but only fully interested in people who are rich older ladies, E: bi and even if she's with a girl she'd go to harper to get the thingy where she could get pregnant with her gf's kids where they take dna from one partner's eggs y'know, L: as long as they are plant people anyone though aro-spec of some sort

20) A: cockwarming, S: butler and maid themed outfits, P: orgasm denial for herself all the time so she just never finishes, E: breeding, L: being restrained

21) A: any place in the school, S: forest for box, P: ship, E: forest lake I guess, L: always in the forest lol

22) A: ears, S: back of his hands and forehead, P: collar bone, E: stomach, L: mouth

23) A: any non-con (I forgot), S: box quest, P: ship but she blocks it out of her mind, E: she hasn't experienced anything she'd count now that she is with Eden, L: none

24) A: yes, S: no, P: yes for cream buns, E: yes for milking, L: no

25) A: yes lol, S: never, P: often, E: daily, L: whenever she remembers plant people exist lol

26) A: nope, S: sorta but not really, P: nope she's perfect, E: somewhat but not really, L: why think of that when you can think of plants

27) A: however long you want ;3 lol, S: as quick as possible, P: until you're done, E: until you wanna stop, L: whenever the plant person's done

28) A: usually silly but if acting can be serious, S: serious, P: as serious as a brat can be lol, E: too into it to do anything but make noises and drool lol, L: calm

29) paisley is quite an exhibitionist and really likes religious themes in sex and I can't think of any for the others lol

hello dolpcverse. hit me (another ask game)

feel free to rb for your own use :3b

[doaaalsawaf]

Hello to everyone who carries humanity in their heart. I am here to share my story with you, hoping that you will find a place in your heart to help me during these difficult times.

I am Doaa from Gaza, living with my family of 5 members. Before the war started, I lived a normal life, without fear haunting me every moment. I used to go to my job as a graphic designer, enjoying the road that was free of destruction, going out with my friends to have fun, laughing, and talking about our dreams and future. It wasn’t easy in Gaza to think too much about your future because of the bad conditions, but we tried to make beautiful moments amidst the difficulties. I would return home after a long day at work, where my mother always took care of us, and my siblings, with whom I grew up as a close-knit family, despite losing my father at a young age.

Today, our life is no longer the same. The war has taken everything from us: safety, work, and even the simplest moments of happiness. My older brother lives with us now, along with his wife and three children. His son, Saeed, turned 11 just two days ago. He was eagerly waiting for his gift, but we couldn’t celebrate as we used to. We made him a simple cake, sang to him, and tried to make his day joyful despite everything. I promised him that once our conditions improve, I will buy him a soccer ball because he loves it so much.

As for Mariam, Saeed’s 9-year-old sister, she is a sweet girl who loves to play and laugh, and just wants to live without fear, which has stolen her childhood and her school. She was an excellent student among her peers, but now, like all of us, she is living in a constant nightmare. A short while ago, a nearby bombing hit, shaking the house. We were filled with terror and rushed to check on each other. We opened the window but saw only ash flying around and dust covering everything. The little ones were downstairs, and we hurried in fear, our minds racing with the question: Has anyone been hurt? This is our reality now—living from one moment to the next, not knowing if we will be alive in the next minute.

But fear isn’t the only thing we are living with in Gaza. Hunger and thirst haunt us. We no longer have enough food, no income source, and no ability to provide for our basic needs as prices soar alarmingly with the ongoing closure of borders. We are trying to hold on, but we need your support.

Please donate to help us survive amidst this brutal war. Every little support is a lifeline for us.

@gazavetters

[phoenixblaze1412]

Hi :3 i was the one who requested the scara idea and I really loved it! I wanted to request dottore and segments reaction to teen reader (preferably fem) growing up to have a personality like pantalone :D that'd be funny

Dottore had seen many strange things in his time—failed experiments, twisted mutations, the very limits of human suffering—but nothing quite prepared him for this.

His daughter, you, his own flesh and blood, were standing before a group of researchers, your voice smooth as silk, your expression poised and confident. With each word you said, you wove a web so intricate, so compelling, that even the most stone-faced, logic-driven agents looked ready to hand over everything they owned. And worse?

They were enjoying it.

“What,” Alpha muttered, adjusting his mask, “am I witnessing?”

Zeta squinted from behind his glasses. “It appears… she is convincing them to donate their research materials for a ‘noble cause’ that benefits her.”

Delta let out a low whistle. “She’s good.”

“She’s terrifying,” Theta corrected.

They watched in stunned silence as you continued your performance.

“I understand, truly, how valuable your time and resources are,” you purred, placing a hand over your heart with just the right amount of dramatic flair. “I would never wish to inconvenience you. However… consider the benefits. Imagine the impact of our work—our shared efforts. You wouldn’t just be contributing to a simple experiment; you would be pioneers, carving a path for innovation itself.”

One of the researchers, a normally skeptical man named Viktor, hesitated. “I mean… that does sound rather significant…”

“Of course it does,” you encouraged gently, tilting your head in a way that made you look both intelligent and utterly sincere. “And naturally, I would ensure that your contributions are recognized. Your names, forever attached to the findings. Doesn’t that sound… rewarding?”

The researchers nodded, murmuring among themselves. They had walked into this discussion fully intending to deny you, yet now, not only were they considering it—they were eager.

Dottore twitched.

“She is Pantalone reincarnated,” he declared, crossing his arms. “And I do not like it.”

“Hmm,” Beta hummed thoughtfully. “Pantalone might actually like it.”

“That is the problem,” Dottore snapped.

Meanwhile, Theta was rubbing his temples. “She didn’t even promise them anything real! Just vague words about recognition and ‘the future of innovation.’ How are they eating this up?”

“She knows how to play to their egos,” Omega noted. “It’s quite impressive, actually.”

Impressive. That was one way to put it.

A few feet away, you turned to another hesitant researcher, smiling warmly. “And I would never ask for too much. Just a small donation of resources—whatever you can spare, of course. I’d hate to take away anything critical from your work.”

The researcher, an older woman, sighed in defeat. “Well… if it’s just a little, I suppose—”

“Amazing!” you beamed, clasping your hands together. “I truly admire your generosity.”

The woman looked like she’d just won an award.

Dottore’s patience snapped.

“That’s enough,” he barked, striding forward. The researchers flinched as the Harbinger loomed over them, his mask intimidating them as he stood behind you. “Don’t you all have assignments to be working on?”

The room froze. The researchers, only now realizing they had been caught under his watchful eye, immediately scrambled to justify themselves.

“I—uh—of course, Lord Harbinger—”

“Right away, sir!”

They practically fled the scene, leaving behind only Dottore, his daughter, and the thoroughly exhausted segments.

You turned to your father, completely unbothered. “You didn’t have to scare them away, you know. I was handling it perfectly fine.”

“That was precisely the problem,” Dottore growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What kind of monster have I created?”

You laughed, light and melodic. “A charming one, obviously.”

Sigma sighed. “We are doomed.”

The segments muttered in agreement.

---------

“Father,” you called one day, your voice laced with the kind of practiced innocence that immediately set off alarm bells in Dottore’s mind.

He didn’t even look up from his work, already suspicious. “What do you want?”

“Nothing unreasonable,” you replied sweetly, stepping closer, hands clasped behind your back. You rocked slightly on your heels before standing on your tiptoes, reaching for his arm with delicate precision.

Before he could swat you away, you gently guided him toward a chair, pressing him down into it as though he were some frail old man in need of rest.

Theta, who had been lounging nearby, nearly choked on air. “Did she just—”

“She did,” Zeta confirmed, eyes wide in awe.

You patted Dottore’s shoulder like a doting daughter caring for her weary father. “You work so hard, Father. You really should take a break.”

Dottore scoffed, unimpressed by the act. “Spare me the pleasantries and get to the point.”

You smiled, leaning against the table with a calculated ease, your words dripping like honey. “I simply require your authorization for my latest project. Oh, and unrestricted funding.”

Gamma folded his arms, his expression skeptical. “That sounds suspiciously like manipulation.”

You gasped, placing a hand over your heart as if deeply wounded. “Uncle, I would never!”

Omega, who had been quietly observing the interaction, frowned. “We are not your uncles.”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Technicalities.”

The segments exchanged wary glances.

Dottore, meanwhile, pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. “And what, pray tell, is this so-called ‘project’ of yours?”

Your lips curled into a winning smile. “A business venture that will make the Fatui a fortune, of course. It’s what you taught me—strategic planning, resource acquisition, persuasive communication. Just… put into practice.”

Sigma leaned forward. “What kind of business?”

You grinned. “One that maximizes profit and efficiency.”

“That is not an answer,” Delta pointed out.

You shrugged, completely unbothered. “Details.”

Dottore gave you a flat look. “What exactly are you planning?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Well, I noticed that the Fatui’s supply chains are terribly mismanaged. We have so much potential revenue slipping through our fingers. So, I may have… persuaded a few merchants to change their trade routes, ensured some competitors had ‘unfortunate delays,’ and positioned certain investments in key markets.”

Beta frowned. “That sounds an awful lot like—”

“Business strategy,” you interrupted smoothly.

Gamma gave you a look. “Illegal business strategy.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. ‘Illegal’ is such a subjective term.”

Dottore had to physically restrain himself from slamming his head against the table. He had spent years raising a child who could stand among the greatest minds, a true product of his genius. And what did you do? Become a smaller, more terrifying version of Pantalone.

He had raised a monster.

And the worst part? You were good at it.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or disappointed,” Dottore admitted.

You smiled, knowing full well that impressed was winning out. “I’ll settle for ‘proud.’”

Theta groaned, slumping against the table. “She’s going to take over the entire Fatui, isn’t she?”

Sigma adjusted his glasses. “Undoubtedly.”

Zeta sighed. “Pantalone is going to love her.”

Dottore clenched his fists. “That is exactly what I am trying to prevent.”

You simply laughed, utterly pleased with yourself at the whole situation.

------

Pantalone was, quite frankly, delighted.

“My dear, you truly are a vision of intellect and refinement,” he praised, his signature charming smile in place. “Such a sharp mind is wasted outside the economic sector. Have you ever considered taking up work in financial negotiations?”

You grinned, clearly enjoying the conversation. “Perhaps. The art of deals and diplomacy does seem rather enjoyable.”

Dottore, who had been quietly seething, suddenly moved, physically placing himself between them with the swiftness of a man fending off a predatory beast. His crimson gaze burned with unspoken warning. “Absolutely fucking not.”

Pantalone feigned disappointment, pressing a hand to his chest as if Dottore had just stabbed him in the heart. “Oh, come now, Doctor. Surely you see the brilliance in her potential.”

“I see the danger,” Dottore snapped. “And I refuse to allow my daughter to fall into your schemes.”

You smirked, arms crossed as you tilted your head. “Father, you wound me. As if I would ever be outwitted.”

Dottore turned to you, expression flat. “That is exactly what concerns me.”

Behind him, the segments were watching the exchange like spectators at an opera.

“This is a disaster,” Theta whispered, horrified.

“She’s growing too strong,” Omega muttered.

Zeta adjusted his glasses, looking deep in thought. “Perhaps… this is a natural evolution of intelligence? The next step in strategic thinking?”

Gamma looked at him like he’d grown two heads. “You’re encouraging this?”

“I mean, technically—”

“No.”

Meanwhile, Pantalone let out an amused chuckle. “Doctor, Doctor, Doctor… I would never dream of corrupting your daughter.”

Dottore scoffed. “Oh, spare me. You are corruption.”

You tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to contemplate something. “But, Father, Pantalone does have valuable resources. Perhaps a partnership could be beneficial?”

Pantalone beamed. “Now there’s an idea.”

Dottore turned to you, scandalized. “You are corrupt.”

You gave him an innocent look. “It’s called business, Father.”

Theta groaned. “We’ve lost her.”

Pantalone, sensing victory, offered his hand toward you “Come, dear. I believe we have much to discuss.”

Before you could even consider it, Dottore grabbed you by the collar and dragged you behind him like a wayward cat. “Absolutely fucking not. Conversation over.”

Pantalone sighed dramatically. “So possessive. Let her spread her wings, Doctor.”

Dottore didn’t even dignify that with a response as he hauled his daughter away, the segments trailing behind, whispering amongst themselves about the absolute chaos their family had become.

-------

The emergency meeting had quickly devolved into chaos. Every segment had sworn to stand firm, to prevent the teenager such as you from further manipulating everyone around you with your eerily natural charm and silver tongue. Yet, as soon as you walked into the room, their resolution began to crumble.

Theta had been the loudest in his protests, slamming the table and declaring that they needed to "put an end to this." But the moment you entered with that confident stride, he suddenly found himself lowering his gaze, pretending to be very interested in the table’s wood grain.

You smiled, eyes scanning the room. “You all seem troubled. Surely, you don’t think I’ve done something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” Beta immediately blurted, then cursed under his breath when he realized what he’d just done.

Zeta, the ever-logical one, adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “We are simply... concerned about your growing influence. It has not gone unnoticed that many of our agents and researchers have begun prioritizing your requests over more critical assignments.”

You tilted your head, giving him an innocent look. “Oh? But I thought efficiency was important. I only help people find their true potential.”

Zeta opened his mouth, ready to counter, but the words died in his throat. Technically, you had a point. You never outright forced anyone; you merely spoke, nudging people in the right direction. It wasn’t your fault they followed you so willingly... right?

“That’s... not entirely incorrect,” Zeta admitted begrudgingly.

“She got him,” Sigma whispered. “One down.”

Epsilon, determined not to fall as his predecessors had, took a deep breath and stood. “That’s beside the point! You have an unnatural ability to get people to do exactly what you want. That is dangerous.”

You let out a small sigh, shaking your head. “Oh, Epsilon... It almost sounds like you don’t trust me.”

Epsilon visibly faltered. “I... That’s not what I meant—”

“You’ve always been so rational,” you continued, your voice taking on a slightly sad tone. “I’ve always admired that about you. But if even you doubt me, then perhaps I have misjudged our relationship.”

A heavy silence settled in the room.

Epsilon’s lips parted in shock. “N-No, that’s—” He groaned, rubbing his temples. “Dammit.”

Sigma patted his shoulder. “It was a valiant effort.”

“That’s three,” Theta whispered in horror.

Determined not to let this continue, Theta himself stepped up. “Alright, that’s enough. You may have fooled the others, but I won’t fall for—”

He paused as you turned to him, eyes filled with warmth and something almost teasing.

“You always try so hard, Theta,” you said, taking a slow step toward him. “The loudest in the room, the one who always takes charge. You must be tired.”

Theta blinked. “I—I am not.”

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “You can rest. You don’t have to be so strong all the time.”

Theta, the proud and stubborn segment, felt his mind blank for a moment. A foreign warmth spread in his chest as he struggled to form words. His defenses, which he had sworn to keep up, shattered in an instant.

“I... uh... Maybe I could take a small break...” he muttered in a daze.

Sigma grabbed his shoulder. “Theta, no! Stay with us!”

It was too late. Theta sat back down, dazed and silent.

Dottore, watching all of this unfold, pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re all useless.”

You, now smug, turned to your father. “You seem frustrated, Father. Surely, you don’t think I would ever try to manipulate you?”

Dottore crossed his arms. “Of course you would. It’s in your nature.”

You giggled. “And yet, here you are, letting me do as I please.”

Dottore scowled, but he couldn’t argue. After all, despite his complaints, he had done nothing to stop you.

The segments looked at each other in silent understanding.

They had lost.

You had won.

Again.

One night, as you sat at your desk, reviewing documents suspiciously similar to Pantalone’s financial reports, Dottore entered the room with an air of exhaustion. He observed you for a moment—your sharp eyes scanning the figures, your pen tapping rhythmically against the desk, a smirk tugging at your lips whenever you found something particularly interesting.

With a long, dramatic sigh, he pulled out the chair beside you and slumped into it.

“I never imagined I would raise someone like you,” he admitted, rubbing his temples.

You glanced at him, amused. “Disappointed?”

He flicked your forehead lightly, earning an exaggerated gasp from you. “Frustrated.”

You grinned, completely unbothered. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Perhaps not.”

There was a long pause before he let his head rest against the back of the chair, watching as you continued working. Despite everything—your infuriating ability to twist words, your undeniable skill in outmaneuvering nearly anyone, your terrifying resemblance to that man—you were still his daughter.

And despite his irritation, he found himself smirking.

“…You know, the segments have started keeping a tally.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“How many people you’ve managed to swindle with words alone.”

You let out a soft laugh. “And what’s my score?”

Dottore shot you a deadpanned look. “Too high for my comfort.”

At that moment, the door burst open. Theta stormed in, waving a piece of paper. “She did it again!”

Behind him, Zeta followed, looking equally exhausted. “She got one of the officers to personally finance one of her projects. Out of his own pocket.”

You smirked. “Persuasion is a valuable skill.”

Theta threw his hands up. “She’s worse than Pantalone!”

Gamma poked his head into the room. “Objectively, she’s better than Pantalone. He still has to negotiate. She just smiles and people give her things.”

Dottore let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You are all useless.���

You stretched, closing your documents. “Father, I’m merely expanding my skill set.”

Dottore leveled you with a look. “Your ‘skill set’ is giving me a headache.”

You stood up, stretching your arms before placing a hand on his shoulder with a knowing smile. “Then consider this a valuable lesson in counter-negotiation. Adapt, or be outplayed.”

The segments collectively winced.

Dottore, after a long moment, let out a dry chuckle. “I should be furious, but somehow, I’m almost impressed.”

You gave him a smug look. “Almost?”

He flicked your forehead again, smirking. “Don’t push it.”

You pouted dramatically, rubbing the spot.

Dottore and his segments had been wildly unprepared for the force of nature their daughter had become, but they learned to adapt. Whether it was intercepting your ‘business ventures,’ preventing you from becoming too much like Pantalone, or simply keeping up with your schemes, they never stopped trying.

Because at the end of the day, you were theirs.

And no amount of manipulation, charm, or well-calculated financial takeovers could ever change that.

[urcoolgf]

can’t fight this no more

pairing. bf¡drew && singer¡reader

content. fluff

summary. almost a year later, you and drew are stronger than ever. a newly released single, and another album on the way has drew thinking about the future

more bf¡drew && singer¡reader

meet singer¡reader

ever since you let drew listen to your songs from your last album, he’s been all but begging you to let him in– even just a little more– on this album. you, of course, obliged. it’s been amazing having him be a bigger part of your next studio album titled ‘positions’– the name just as suggestive as the rest of the album. although, this wasn’t just a lustful album, it was about the most pure form of love you had ever experienced– drew.

but, before ‘positions’ dropped, you collabed with justin beiber on a single you were planning to release before positions. the song wasn’t on the album, but it felt essential to the lead up of ‘positions’.

‘stuck with u’ not only featured justin beiber, but you even added a little snippet of drew’s voice in the beginning. he didn’t know that yet– while he had been a consistent figure in the making of ‘positions’ he had no clue about this single.

you were torn with how you wanted him to hear it for the first time. waiting until it released felt fun, but kind of shady–like you had hid it from him, which you technically had. playing it from the studio was normal at this point, and you didn’t want normal. you wanted this one to be different. the song was set to release in two days so you needed to think of something, and fast.

almost as if someone was listening to your thoughts, your phone rang. it was your manager.

“hey! what’s up?,” you picked up the phone, a certain cheeriness in your tone.

your manager began speaking as if he was frazzled– which he probably was, “hey y/n. i know it’s last minute, but they’re having an event at the coffee shop around the corner– the one you love–”

which also happened to be the one you met drew at.

“and they had a band, but their flight canceled– blah, blah, excuses, excuses… point is– would you be free to do a little live singing there… like tonight? you can perform whatever songs you’d like. maybe even some snippets from the new album?,” his tone was hopeful, which surprised you because you were never the type to pass these little gigs down– especially in your city.

“of course! i’d love to,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face that your manager couldn’t see, but he could hear it. this was literally the perfect opportunity to expose drew to ‘stuck with u’.

“awesome! alright, i’ll call them back, let them know. it starts at 7pm. talk later y/n,” and before you could say goodbye, he had hung up.

you couldn’t help the almost giddy feeling in your stomach. you were so excited, but you were nervous, too. performing the song as drew’s first listen was risky, but it would be memorable.

drew was currently visiting his sister in the next city over, so you just shot him a quick text.

y/n: meet me @ our coffee shop 7pm i love u

he replied almost instantly– as he always does.

drew<3: I’ll be there. I love you baby🩷 PS Liliana says hi!

drew <3: sent 1 attachment

a soft smile spread across your face unknowingly. you clicked on the image of his baby niece in his arms– the picture clearly taken by his sister– and just like that all your anxiety had washed away. drew was the most caring, amazing person you knew. he was going to love whatever you performed.

tonight was going to be perfect.

—

you got to the coffee shop about an hour early to set up, and meet your manager. you told him you wanted to perform ‘stuck with u’, and he luckily had found another male singer who was willing to sing justin’s part in that short time.

“hey y/n! this is jackson! he’ll be singing with you tonight,” your manager walked up, hand behind jackson’s back, guiding him to you.

“hey jackson! nice to meet you,” you beamed at him. you were excited for tonight, and super grateful your manager found someone on such short notice.

“you too. i’m a huge fan,” he smiled brightly, hand extending towards you. you took it, and shook his hand gently.

the two of you bounced vocals off each other a bit before the host was telling you it was 3 minutes ‘til show time. you peaked your head out into the small crowd– news didn’t spread that fast that you were headlining, but you didn’t mind. you liked the smaller crowds, more intimate. you saw drew sat at a table by himself, looking around for you and checking his watch.

“1 minute,” the hostess whispered to you, drawing your attention from the crowd. your phone pinged, so you quickly checked it.

drew<3: Hey baby I’m here. Where are you?

a sweet message, one that would have to go unanswered as the host began to announce you and jackson. the two of you walked onto the small stage they had set up in the corner of the shop.

as soon as you stepped out, your eyes went to drew– the shocked look on his face, followed by a soft smile. the host let you take over the mic so you could announce the song you were going to sing.

“hi everyone! thanks so much for coming out tonight. i’m so excited to be here, and i know jackson is, too. this first song we’re gonna sing is a new single of mine, releasing soon. so get excited because you’re getting a sneak peak! i wanna dedicate this song to someone special in the crowd tonight… drew, this is for you baby. i love you,” he couldn’t contain the huge smile taking over his face, mouthing the words ‘i love you, too’ back at you.

the slow beat began to play through the sound system they had set up, you requested the original track (with drew’s voice) be played just without the vocals so he could hear that he was part of it.

mmm

hey, yeah

(that’s just for fun)

(what?)

(i’m stuck with you)

drew’s face was nothing short of rewarding. the surprised look was something you would probably remember forever. you just shot him a small, mischievous smile, which he returned with a soft laugh that you obviously couldn’t hear, but you knew what it sounded like.

ah

i’m not one to stick around

one strike and you’re out, baby

don’t care if i sound crazy

but, you never let me down, no, no

that’s why when the sun’s up, i’m stayin’

still layin’ in your bed, singin’

the low octave of your voice, accompanied with the almost sultry look you were giving drew right now was driving him crazy. the truth is– he had gone to his sister’s, but he had left early to make a stop at the jewelry store. you didn’t know it, but a ring was hidden in his jacket pocket right now.

when you had asked him to meet you at the coffee shop where you had first met him, he didn’t see a more perfect opportunity to make you his forever.

i could stay here for a lifetime

so, lock the door and throw out the key

can’t fight this no more, it’s just you and me

and there’s nothin’ i, nothin’ i, i can do

i’m stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you

drew’s mind was blown– not only at your amazing vocals which would never fail to amaze him, but at the lyrics. ‘stay here for a lifetime’, ‘stuck with you’. it was like you knew what he was planning.

a few verses later, jackson took over. you only sang some harmonies and backup vocals for him, prancing around the stage, moving to the beat.

drew just watched you in awe. yeah, the other guy was good, too, but you were mesmerizing. you weren’t even singing and he was absolutely hypnotized just by your stage presence alone.

woah

baby, come take all my time

go on, make me lose my mind

we got all that we need here tonight

your two tones worked together beautifully as the bridge took over, and the song hit its climax– the jazzy tune taking over the café. everyone in the place was bopping their heads to the tune, some even throwing some impressed whistles at your vocals.

baby, run your mouth, i still wouldn’t change

all this lovin’ you, hatin’ you, wantin’ you

i’m stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you

stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you

it was the end of the song, but you extended your vocals, hitting high notes that drew didn’t even know was possible (he did. he had listened to you for the past few months, and had seen you do inhuman things with your voice, but still)

as the song faded out, you simply walked off the stage for an intermission, ‘stuck with u’ playing softly in the background as people moved about. applause and cheers were still booming through the small shop as people ordered snacks and drinks.

you walked over to drew, sitting in the seat across from him. despite you both being famous, no one was really bothering you– which you were kind of grateful for.

“hey baby,” you said softly, warm smile on your face as you awaited his response to the song.

“hey love,” he replied with equal softness. he reached his hands out to take yours which were resting on the table– or at least, you thought that’s what he was doing.

something cold hit your hand instead. you looked down to find a beautiful diamond ring with a small pearl attached to the gem. your breath caught in your chest, looking back up at drew in equal parts confusion and shock.

“drew… wha–,” you began before he cut you off.

“y/n… will you marry me?”

© 𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐆𝐅. est. 2025

TAGS .ᐟ @yktayy9669 @drewsswifeyy @drewrry @frankoceanluvr11 @dearestmillls @icaqttt @lynoriax @hpboysslut2707 @stoned-writer @angvl3tears