#STREAM SPIDER THANKS

[kingstealer]

aabria going, "as aimee who maybe wants to have a friend sit by you soon" is going to haunt me for the next two weeks. i can already tell.

[strangelittlestories]

After the occupation, the princess was confined to the palace.

Once a month she'd be taken on a walk around the city, heavily guarded of course, to show the people that she still lived. It also served, of course, as a reminder of what they stood to lose if they made trouble. The princess did her best go wave and smile and give the people what encouragement she could.

The rest of the time, her life was spent in musty rooms and dusty towers. She filled most of her time scouring the castle for materials which she would sew into more and more elaborate outfits, which she would show off on the days when she was allowed outside.

Indeed, the public loved their princess and her dresses so much they'd often sketch or paint them along the route and pass the images on so that all could see the princess at least was well.

This pleased the occupiers for two reasons. First: it kept the princess out of trouble. Second: it gave them a reason to sneer and they did love a good sneer.

"What a vain creature she is!" They would remark.

"Doesn't even care we murdered her brothers so long as she gets enough satin to make her little dresses!" They squawked.

This was unfair, of course, for to call her creations "little dresses" was to call Queen Murderfun the Needlessly Genocidal "a tad piquey". Her dresses were gravity-defying wonders lace and pearl. They were thunderstorms captured in velvet and waterfalls summoned in silk. She was a wizard with silk.

Still, she bore their mockery with a tight smile and careful deference.

"Please, good sirs, my home, my people and my city now belong to you. Let me keep, at least, this one last joy."

And they sneered and they crowed most unpleasantly, but they let her keep her sewing room.

Of course, they would have known their mockery to be doubly unfair had they realised the true purpose of the princess's elaborate designs. For hidden in the intricate embroiderings across her gowns, jackets and fans, the princess had encoded secret (and very detailed) messages. When she would go on her monthly walk, the city's loyalists would line the route, sketching down the patterns to decode later.

Thus did the princess transmit all the occupiers' secrets (unearthed while supposedly 'searching the castle for old fabrics') to the city and thus did she build her resistance.

On the day the revolution finally came, she girded herself in armour of thick spider silk and whale bone. She cut a fine figure with a lacy handkerchief in her top pocket and a razor sharp knitting needle keeping her hair up.

As she waltzed through the castle to open the door for her army, the Usurper King tried to stop her and she simply unfolded her handkerchief and showed it to him.

Upon seeing the impossible arcane pattern emblazoned across it, he fell to the floor with blood streaming from his eyes.

She always had been a wizard with silk.

---

Thank you for reading. If you'd like to support my writing, you can do so at https://ko-fi.com/strangelittlestories

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Boo

Prompt: You end up taking Jack and your daughter trick or treating while Aaron is stuck at work.

Note: I know this Halloween inspired prompt is a little belated but the amount of fluff is worth it. 🥰

“I want that one!” your daughter yelled, grabbing the bigger candy bucket from Jack’s hands. A frown appeared on his face but he seemingly held himself back from acting out. The little 8 year old had way more patience than you did at his age, clearly taking after Aaron’s constant calm and controlled demeanor.

“Hey,” you spoke, crouching down to her level. “Jackers is your brother and you need to be nice to him. We don’t yell and take things away from each other.” She looked back and forth from him to you, an expression of disapproval evident. “Why don’t you try asking him nicely if you can have the bigger bucket, ok?”

You and Jack waited as she stayed silent, clearly struggling with the idea to be polite. Finally, she turned to Jack and spoke. “Can I have Jack?”

He looked over at you and then to the smaller identical bucket by her feet. “Yeah, ok.”

You sighed in relief and gave them both a big smile. For a second, you thought there was gonna be a tantrum happening before you even got a chance to trick or treat but luckily Jack came to your rescue, being the bigger man.

“See, wasn’t that nicer than yelling at Jack?” She just nodded, avoiding eye contact, probably embarrassed that she was in the wrong. “Ok, now let’s go get some candy!”

Like a switch, they were both back to being happy and excited as they ran to the door. You grabbed both of their jackets that you knew they were gonna want later on as well as your little tumbler of wine. That was your treat for the night.

Before leaving the house, you came over to Jack and plopped a king sized Snickers bar in his bucket, giving him a wink and smile once he noticed. He pretended to zip his lips shut and throw away the key, making you laugh.

The first couple of house went smoothly, your daughter clutching onto Jack most of the time, not convinced with the suspicious looking decorations outside of some of the houses. You sent a picture of the two of them to Aaron, knowing he’d want to see how they were doing even if he couldn’t be there.

Aaron: They look adorable. How far have you gotten?

You: Still on our street, but making great headway. Jack is excited to get to Wicker street where he knows they give out the bigger candy.

Aaron: Smart boy. I see he let his sister have the bigger bucket.

You: Yeah, he handled it very well. Reminded me a lot of his father. (;

Aaron: Love to hear that. Gotta go but I love you.

You: Love you too.

You put your phone away just as you heard your daughter scream and watch as she made a beeline for you, leaving Jack in the dust. "Sweetheart, what's the matter?" you asked bending down. She looked absolutely terrified as tears began streaming down her face and the little tiara on her head struggled to stay attached. Instead of answering, she just pointed over to the porch that she had just ran from. You knew then what she was referring to when you saw the dog dressed as a big spider. It took everything in you not to laugh out loud.

"Oh honey, it's a just a doggy. He's dressed up for Halloween just like you." You brushed the hair out of her eyes while she continued crying, completely unconvinced that the dog was not a gigantic spider there to eat her and waited as Jack came back over. He inspected the scene before him, obviously aware of what happened and proceeded to pull a pack of gummy worms out from his bucket of goodies.

"Here. I got you worms," he offered, forcing the candy into her hand. Just like that, the crying stopped immediately as she played with the package, trying to figure out how to open it.

"That was so nice of your brother. Can you say thank you sweetie?"

"Thank you," she repeated. You gave Jack a ruffle on his head and pulled him in for a hug. He was literally the sweetest boy you knew.

"Alright, Jack. You want to lead the way to the next street?" He shook his head in excitement and wasted no time in showing you the way.

After walking up to the first house and receiving two big chocolate bars, he was practically racing to the next house for more.

"Not so fast Jack, stay close." you told him, scanning your surroundings, knowing anything could happen. Your daughter followed in step with you, busy gnawing on some gummy candy that you were sure was gonna end up keeping her up all night. Just before you all reached the next house, someone caught your eye. The tall figure was a bit far away but became increasingly clearer, the closer you got. Jack was the first to identify him.

"Daddy!"

You watched him run ahead and into the arms of your husband, who was still dressed in his work attire. In that moment, you were entirely grateful to the Bureau for their strict dress code. The dress pants, FBI windbreaker, and holstered weapon had you thinking all kinds of dirty scenarios in your head you'd like to play out with him but for the sake of your toddler children, you decided to indulge your fantasies later.

You and your daughter walked over, a gentle smile on your lips as he set Jack down to give her a hug. "Well this is a pleasant surprise." you greeted, giving him a kiss once he came back up.

“Case wrapped up sooner than expected. Figured the team could use an early night considering the occasion."

You pulled him in for another kiss, this time, a slightly longer and deeper, earning a curious hum from him. "What was that for?"

Absentmindedly, you played with his tie and looked up at his boyish expression. "I just really like your Halloween costume."

Being the ever observant special agent he was, it didn't take long for him to understand what you meant as a knowing smirk played on his lips. "I see."

"Daddy, up," your daughter demanded while pulling on his pant leg, interrupting the moment.

“Of course sweetheart.” He propped her up on his hip and gave you one last look before turning his attention to them. “Lead the way Batman,” Aaron spoke to Jack in his costume.

All of you followed after the young boy, it not taking long for both of their candy buckets to fill up and their sugar high to come crashing down. Your daughter had fallen asleep in Aaron’s arms on the walk back and Jack walked hand in hand with you, his pace a lot slower than earlier.

Once in the house, you helped Jack separate his candy while Aaron put your daughter down for bed. "The Twix are my favorite. Dad can have the pretzels and you can have the lollipops," he offered, pushing the less interesting candy towards you.

“Alright. I’ll keep all of your candy in a very secure safe place,” you reassured him, putting his little pile into a ziplock bag. “Why don’t you go get changed into your pj’s and brush your teeth.”

He listened without a fuss, a tired yawn making its way out of his mouth as he shuffled down the hall, passing by his dad who gave him a high five.

You watched him make his way over to you, a playful glint in his eye, his arms snaking their way around your waist before he placed a gentle kiss against your neck. "I thought I could run us a bath. Maybe give you a massage afterwards." His murmured words sent a shiver through you, your body reacting immediately. You turned to face him, your hands slowly pulling down on his jacket zipper, your eyes locked with his.

Leaning in, his lips met yours with a burning passion you loved. Like that was the last kiss he'd ever have. His hand cradled your head, fingers entwining in your hair and as he stepped closer, the faint smell of cologne from that morning still lingered on his clothes, overstimulating your senses. Your hands rested themselves on his torso, grabbing at the fabric, wanting nothing more than to rip it right off his body as his breath hitched, telling you he felt the same way.

"Daddy!" Jack called from down the hall, bringing the both of you back down to earth. He was probably waiting for his nightly bedtime story you made sure to give him, all cuddled up in his bed, surrounded by his numerous stuffies and dressed in his Batman pajamas.

You pulled away from Aaron, his eyes dark and filled with desire.

"Wait for me," he spoke lowly, stepping back from you before heading towards Jack's room, ready to give the shortest bedtime story ever.

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 13)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

Part 13:

After practically being dragged by Vaggie back into the main lobby of the hotel with Alastor quietly humming behind the two of you, you were basically swarmed by Charlie, Angel, Husk and Nifty.

"WHERE WERE YOU? I was so scared!" Charlie barely manages to get out past the blubbering tears streaming down her face as she hugs you.

Angel examined your body with all of his arms, checking to make sure you were okay, "Geeze, toots, how'd you manage to survive that long against Smiles over there? I was sure you'd be dead meat!"

Husk gave you a glance up and down, "Glad you're alright. I'd hate to miss out on getting to know another drinking buddy." Husk glances over to Angel and grumbles under his breath, "You owe me $50."

"You were betting on if (y/n) was alive???" Vaggie groans, hands rubbing her face in exasperation.

Nifty is basically hyperventilating in your face, sniffing and examining your hair strand by strand, "Yup- still gross- EW!" Before she launches off your shoulders to go and do god knows what somewhere in some far corner of the hotel...

You let out a breathy chuckle, "I appreciate the concern... and the vote of confidence... Angel..." You give a sarcastic glare over in the spider's direction, earning a sheepish smile from Angel.

Taking Charlie's hands in your's, you take one of your hands to dry the tears from her eyes and say, "Charlie, you don't need to cry. You're such a sweet girl. I honestly can't thank you- and Vaggie-" you smile in Vaggie's direction before continuing, "- for saving my life and bringing me here to the Hazbin Hotel. I came here to find the love of my life- back from when I was alive. It's only been a few hours, yet you've already helped me fulfill the goal I've been trying to achieve for decades!"

Your words brought surprised looks upon Charlie, Angel, and Husk's faces.

Husk nearly dropped the glasses he was cleaning, "Uh.. Say what now?"

"Excuse me, but did you just say you found the love of your life... from when you were alive?? Who the hell-" Angel started to say before Alastor walked over put his hand on your shoulder,.

"Oh, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me." Husk interrupted Angel's sentence with the most deadpan yet exasperated voice he could muster.

"Wait... you mean... Freaky face has a fuckin' WIFE???" Angel yelled out in disbelief. "What the actual FUCK? I didn't think that guy was capable of love!"

"Ahem." Static noises became louder as Alastor glared in Angel's direction.

"Alright, alright, jesus, sorry! Husk, I need a drink."

"Already on it."

Meanwhile, Charlie just stood there as still as a statue from the shock. Until she suddenly started chuckling slowly, "Ah ha... hahaha... wait... really?" She brought her hands up to her mouth, trying to hide the huge grin that was slowly forming on her face.

You nodded, "Well, not quite wife haha... I was killed before he could propose..."

"Geeze, talk about grim.."

"Why, I do say that is quite enough from the peanut gallery!" Alastor piped up, menacingly twisting his head towards the bar where Angel and Husk were.

Charlie turned to Alastor, "How come you never mentioned you had someone special before?"

"Well my dear Charlie, I am a very private person, I do not often willingly divulge personal information about myself or my life back when I was alive."

"Oh." Charlie looked down at the ground dejectedly, thinking she was closer to Alastor than to be kept at such length still.

You patted Charlie's head, "Don't worry- I'll be happy to chat with you anytime! Though I don't know if you'll have fun hearing how I killed my husband- er- before Alastor. Maybe I'll have to settle for stories about my art career!" You chuckle smiling at her.

"Jesus, she IS crazy after all."

"Takes crazy to know crazy"

"Oh, shut up."

Charlie gasps, suddenly perking up, "Oh.. MY... GOSH!! Does this mean we get to host the very first wedding at our hotel??" She squeals and gives both you and Alastor the puppy-eye look.

You link your arm through Alastor's and look up at him with an inquisitive look.

"Ahaha! Why, if it is what my dear (y/n) desires, then that is what we shall do!"

You grin and bring your left hand up and hold it out to Charlie, "We already have the rings!"

Charlie blinks blankly and her mouth hangs open holding your hand to examine the ring on your hand. Vaggie leans over to look as well, "I honestly don't know I missed that..."

After staring at the ring for a while, Charlie smacks Vaggie's arm a bunch before squeezing her in a big embrace- the sounds of her squealing excitedly filled the room.

"WE HAVE A WEDDING TO PLAN!!!!!"

-> Part 14 - Final

Tag List:

@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters @galaxywing-has-adhd @ggyalruu @trashbin-nie @fudosl @night-shadowblood-writes2 @memospacexx @yuraaahs @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @ghostdoodlen @moschinski @cannibalcoyote @missam @reader3 @yourworstgf @justaproudslytherpuff @milkspong3 @xdolls-crownx @1potato2rulethemall @1rxsemary1 @xxcrispxx @zardward @robin-the-enby @mylenapony11 @silvermoondarksky @bootylimpics @amarokofficial @euphoricaphrodite @blueyobsessedgirly @need-a-therapist @knifukiller @huayan @hwrimonsjer @no1sillybilly @kimmikreates @icarus-has-falllen @watchinthestarz @lady-lik3r @yunxi-11085 @luzzbuzz @tsukilover11 @plntmxrss @houmi @demoarah @papas-ghoulette @trashbin-nie @d-darlingyourbleeding @hallothankmas

[psychoticfemmm]

Hia! Can you do another Peter Parker x Stark! Reader, I absolutely loved your last one. Could the plotline be along the lines of : Tony walks into your room and finds you and Peter asleep cuddling after you snuck him in the night before. Maybe the whole team gets involved and starts taking photos for blackmail 🤣 Thank you!

 Caught in the Act

pairing: Peter Parker x stark!reader

summary: read the request

The sunlight streamed through your bedroom curtains, falling perfectly on the two of you. Peter Parker’s arm was draped over your waist, his face nuzzled into your neck. His warm breath tickled your skin, and you groaned softly, stirring from your sleep.

The events of the night before were hazy but thrilling: a whispered phone call, Peter scaling the side of the Avengers Tower, and an impromptu movie marathon that ended with the two of you tangled up in each other’s arms.

Peter shifted in his sleep, his nose brushing against your collarbone. A soft hum escaped him, and you smiled, reaching up to lightly ruffle his messy curls.

“Good morning, lovebirds.”

The unmistakable voice of Tony Stark shattered the moment.

Your eyes snapped open, and your heart dropped. Standing at the foot of your bed was your dad, his arms crossed and an expression caught between amusement and absolute mortification.

“D-Dad?!” you stammered, sitting up abruptly. Peter groaned at the sudden movement, blinking himself awake.

“Morning, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled sleepily before realizing where he was and who was standing there. His eyes went wide, and he bolted upright. “MR. STARK! I—uh—this isn’t what it looks like!”

Tony raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Really? Because it looks like Spider-Boy snuck into my daughter’s room and decided to cuddle his way into trouble.”

“Dad, it’s not like that!” you protested, though your flushed face said otherwise.

“Oh, so it’s worse,” Tony quipped, cutting you off. “Got it. And by the way, the entire team is outside, loving this.”

Your jaw dropped. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” Tony replied smugly. “Because if I have to suffer through this, everyone else does too.”

Right on cue, the door creaked open, and Steve Rogers stepped in, his phone out and snapping a picture. “Morning, kiddos. Cute couple pose, by the way.”

“STEVE!” you yelled, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at him.

Natasha followed, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Aw, I remember young love. You guys were adorable—until Stark called us in for backup.”

“Seriously?” Peter groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Oh, it’s not just us,” Natasha added as Thor poked his head in.

“Why was I not informed of this bonding moment?” Thor boomed, grinning. “Ah, Spider-Man and Stark’s offspring. A powerful duo!”

“Can you all get out?!” you shouted, grabbing another pillow.

“Not until I get my blackmail photo,” Natasha teased.

Peter tugged you closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “You know, if this keeps up, I might have to climb out the window.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you muttered back, glaring at the group.

Bruce finally showed up, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “Tony, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“I like to think I’m setting the bar,” Tony said smugly.

Finally, the team filtered out, laughing and bantering as they went. Tony lingered for a moment, fixing Peter with a look. “You’re lucky I like you, Parker. But if I catch you sneaking in again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter stammered.

As the door shut, the room finally fell silent. You let out a sigh, flopping back onto the bed. Peter lay beside you, covering his face with his hands.

“Well,” you started, “that went about as horribly as it could’ve gone.”

Peter groaned. “They’re never going to let me live this down. Your dad is probably going to build a tracker for me now.”

“Probably,” you teased, rolling onto your side to face him.

He peeked at you through his fingers, his face still flushed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a grin.

Peter leaned in closer, his voice dropping slightly. “You know, we could’ve avoided all of this if you hadn’t convinced me to stay the night.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I convinced you? Last I checked, you were the one who said, ‘But I can’t leave you now, you’re too cute when you’re sleepy.’”

His cheeks turned redder. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did say that.”

You leaned closer, your lips brushing against his. “Guess you’ll just have to make it up to me later.”

Peter’s breath hitched, but before he could respond, you pulled back, smirking. “Now, get up, Spider-Boy. We’ve got breakfast to deal with—and probably a million jokes from the team.”

“Great,” he muttered, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “But next time, we’re sneaking into my room. May wouldn’t call the Avengers on us.”

“Deal,” you replied, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door.

[adrienneleclerc]

Is it possible to request a Lando one were his girlfriend is a well known voice actress that does video games and anime?

Hello, I will TRY, sorry if this took me a while, if it’s short, and if you don’t like it, but I really hope you like it

Girlfriend Reveal

Pairing: Lando Norris x VA! Reader

Summary: Lando Norris fans lose their shit when they find out he’s dating Y/N L/N, the voice of Tohru Honda from Fruits Basket

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: i had to google animes I knew and see if the years coincided, I did my research.

Lando and Y/N met when she was recording the voice of Black Cat in the new Spider Man 2 video game and he was helping design the black and neon yellow suit. They have been dating for a few months and Lando was streaming with Max.

“Oh fuck!” Lando screamed at his computer screen before there was a knock on his door. “Baby, come in, you don’t have to knock.” Y/N opened the door and walked through

“But You’re streaming, i didn’t want to interrupt. I bought us spring rolls and I got myself some seafood pho, which is delicious, might I add, I’ll be in the kitchen.” Y/N said before walking back out and that’s when his comment section went crazy with fans asking who was that.

“Oh, that was my girlfriend, she’s cute, isn’t she?” Lando asked the chat. “Let’s see what you guys are saying, ��are you dating Y/N L/N?’ Yes, yes I am, our relationship is growing strong. ‘Did you know she’s a voice actress?’ Of course I knew, that’s how we met, she voices the black cat in the new Spider-Man video game. She’s very talented actually, it almost doesn’t sound like her.” Lando laughed at his little joke. “Um ‘where is she?’ She’s in the kitchen, eating her food. Baby, my fans want you, they keep asking questions about you.” Lando said.

“Let me eat my pho and I’ll come back with the spring rolls.” Y/N said. 30 minutes later, Y/N came back with a plate of spring rolls. “Hey, LN4 nation, how y’all doing?” Y/N asked the fans, while Y/N took over Lando’s stream, he was happily eating the spring rolls they ordered. “‘Am I working on anything new?’ Well not really, I haven’t been called to dub another anime, maybe they’re waiting until the anime is done shooting for me to dub, I don’t know. I could be part of a new animated Disney or Pixar movie, I don’t know.” Y/N kept reading the comments until she landed on.. “‘Can you say a line from Fruits Basket?’ Yeah, i Can do that, let me just.” Y/N cleared her throat. “Yeah, I totally Can, i just need to get better at the whole breathing part.” (I looked it up on TikTok) Lando out down the tray of spring rolls.

“My beautiful girlfriend, the voice of Tohru Honda.” Lando said clapping and imitating the cheer of the audience.

“Ha ha, thank you. It was very fun dubbing the voice of Tohru. Sorry to take the attention away from you, Lando.” Y/N apologized, kissing him. “Did you eat all the spring rolls?”

“Of course not, I left you like 7.” Lando said.

“Alright, I’ll just be right here.” Y/N said, sitting down on Lando’s bed to view his stream.

“I’m back you guys. Yes, I know, Y/N is amazing, I haven’t watched Fruits Basket but I will soon, when Y/N isn’t there, obviously.” Lando said, Y/N chuckled. “Well, darling, hope you’re happy, my fans like you more than me.”

“It’s not my fault your fans like anime.” Y/N commented

“I know, I know.” Lando replied.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m your biggest fan.” Y/N said.

“Thanks, darling.” Lando said before returning to his stream.

The End

Hope y’all liked it!

[intoxicated-chan]

Come Back to Me, It’s Almost Easy

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Memories from his past come back to haunt him. Reminding him of how much he’s failed.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Almost Easy” by Avenged Sevenfold. I’m in the mood for some heavy angst. Requests are open!!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 870

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, heavy angst, major character death, sleep deprivation, death, blood, light violence…

“You have a choice between saving one person or saving every world.”

Miguel knew it all too well. He’s gone through it just like every other Spider-Man, so it’s nothing new. He should’ve expected it coming which is why he never really reacted or mourned his losses.

He knows what’s coming, which means he shouldn’t have felt this awful about himself. It was almost easy for him to move on from everyone else, but the loss of the most important people broke him.

He can easily tell other Spider-Mans that it’s part of the job, so get up and continue doing what you’re doing. But when he’s asked to do it, he can’t help but cry out loud, the feeling of going crazy by asking him to forget everything. He can’t do that.

But the way he held you in his arms, the way your fingers weakly grazed his face… He won’t forget the way he begged you to stay with him, and how shameful he felt when he realized that no matter how different he chose to do things, it was always going to be the same.

“You’ve been awake for almost 48 hours, Miguel.” Peter B. told him, Mayday in his arms as he watched Miguel struggle to stay awake, “Maybe you should take a break?”

“M’fine.” Miguel nearly pulled at his hair, huffing heavily as he stared into the screen, “Everything is fine.”

“I asked if you were fine, not everyone else.”

“And I said that I am fine.” Miguel growled at Peter B. “And besides, don’t you have better things to do than bother me?”

“I’m just worried about you, Miguel.” Peter B. stepped closer but remained a good distance just in case, “Everyone else is worried, even Miles. We’re here for you.”

“And I said…” Miguel slammed his hands on his desk, “Leave me be!” Snapping at Peter B. without even looking at him, “I don’t need you breathing on my back.”

“Okay, okay.” Peter B. mumbled, hurrying off before Mayday could begin to cry.

But Miguel didn’t react, he remained hunched over at his desk. Watching as multiple screens popped up and then closed by Lyla. His eyes had started to burn, and he began to slump over his desk and maybe, fall asleep.

But the second he felt fingers running through his hair, it caused him to abruptly stand up. He scanned every inch of the room… But he was all alone.

“Miguel?” He flinched, “Are you sure you’re okay?” He then huffed after a minute, learning that it was Lyla who just spoke to him.

“Just perfect.” He heavily sighed, “Everything is perfect. Not like I’ve lost an entire family in an instant. So yeah, I think I’m doing good.”

He hears Lyla sigh, “Get some sleep.” She said but sounded like a demand, “I won’t say it again.”

He thought about the scenario over again, what mistakes he made and how easily the warning signs showed from the start. If he had never let his guard down, his family would still be alive.

Miguel sighed once more. He had to apologize to Peter B. and fast, it wasn’t his fault, he was just worried about him.

“Now do you believe me?” You softly spoke as you watched Miguel cradle his daughter in his arms, “See? You aren’t hurting her.”

“I guess I should believe you more often.” Miguel softly spoke as she began to sleep in his arms, “Thank you, (Y/n).”

“For what?”

“For giving me a chance.”

“Anything for you, Miguel. You deserve the world.”

He shouldn’t have. He never should have believed that it was all true. Pushing away his mindset and letting him fall into the beautiful feeling of love. If he didn’t, then you’d be continuing your life that didn’t involve him.

“Stay with me, (Y/n)!” Miguel cried, his tears streaming down his face, “The ambulance is almost here! Just hold on a bit longer!” But the ambulance isn’t in his sight. So, carefully, he began to stand, still holding onto you.

“Don’t.” You cough, “I need you to promise me, Miguel.” He feels your hand come up to his face, weakly trying to wipe away the tears, “Take care of her Miguel…”

He drops to his knees, “Don’t say that!” You laid on the ground, his hands coming up to cup your face.

“She’ll need her father.”

“I can’t do this without you!”

“Let her know that her mother will always love her…” You cough, then cough again, and then again until he sees blood spilling from your mouth, “No matter what happens.”

“Stop! Please!” He begs you.

“And know that forever, I’ll always love you…” Your voice gets weaker by the second, your vision begins to fade, “No matter how far you go. I’ll be here.”

He remembered the sounds of the sirens. How hard it took him to force himself to put his mask on as he watched the medical technicians try to help you.

And so, Miguel stopped wishing for a lot of things. But there was always one wish… If he could go back in time to fix things, could he be able to have the family he wished for?

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

[luveline]

hiii could I please request miguel walking in on reader crying in secret?? ty!! :)))

thank you for requesting! fem!reader, 1.2k

It takes Miguel half an hour to fix your spider suit, but when he picks his head up from his work desk with a brag waiting on his lips, you aren’t there. He hadn’t noticed you slinking away. Perhaps he should’ve, given his fantastic sixth sense and his habit of awarding you special attention, just you’re quiet when you want to be. 

He sends you a short message through his wristwatch. Where are you? delivered 7:58PM. 

No response. Miguel folds your suit into a square and holds it under his arm, flicking off his workbench light as he rolls his neck from one side to the other. He wanted to finish the repairs before nightfall so as not to disrupt your routine. He quite likes your routine together. In a stressful life, time spent with you is peace he doesn’t deserve. You aren’t a peaceful girl, of course, you’re his idiot, but he knows the stark difference of having you versus not having you. 

He can’t track you without your suit on and your watch he’d found in the laboratory (you should not be taking it off), but he can ping your phone. 

You’re in the building still, at least. 

He texts you. Where did you go? I fixed your suit. It’s dinner time soon. 

Loosely translated, it means, Why did you leave? We always eat dinner together. 

Miguel sighs and decides to check the most obvious places first. The alcove of the hallway leading to the laboratory where you like to hide, the arts lounge, the atrium where your friends hang out, and the outdoor area right at the surface of the society. By 8:30PM he’s agitated wondering where you’ve gone, because he should probably know, but he’s not a great boyfriend and you’re not always as honest as you claim. You could be anywhere. You could be with someone nicer. 

He’s pissed. With no choice but to admit defeat, he decides he’ll head up to bed (he’s not going to bed, he’s gonna find you, because you can go wherever you like whenever you like but it’s been a long time since you disappeared without telling him). He cares about you too much, even if he wishes sometimes he didn’t. Not because of you. 

He sulks into the apartment (his apartment, your apartment, you were never supposed to live with him but here you tend to stay), throwing his phone and command pod onto the made sheets of the bed. 

The shower drips in the bathroom. He can hear the plink of water dripping onto the floor, a slow, dysrhythmic pattering. Two seconds, a drop. Three seconds, your breathing. 

He startles. You’re shuddering, a sharp inhalation, that strange sound you make when you’re overwhelmed without being smothered by his shoulder. “Stop,” you say under your breath. Another harsh breath, and a pained whine to follow. 

Miguel has never crossed a room so quickly. For a moment he thinks there must be someone else there, not a fully realised theory but an instinct —you’re telling someone else to stop, because someone is hurting you, because you aren’t alone. But he can hear only your heart, and your breath. So he stops cold by the door without bursting in and forces himself to knock. 

“Mi cielo?” he asks, aiming for tenderness, roughness seeping through. He knocks the door. “I’m coming in, okay?” 

Miguel doesn’t realise the door is locked until he’s cracked the doorframe. 

You stare at him in shock. Tears fall fast but quiet down your cheeks, thick streams of them, the kind to accompany gutted sobbing. 

“What’s wrong?” he says, his chest falling. “What’s wrong? Y/N, tell me. Tell me,” he prompts, secretly terrified at your tears and your quiet. He sounds demanding instead. 

“I’m fine,” you say.

“No you’re not.” He speaks before you can deny it again, not sure what to make of your teary voice or the way you’re smiling; trying to hide. 

“It’s okay–”

“It’s not okay, mi cielo,” —he takes your hand if only to be touching you— “you're crying.” 

“You weren’t supposed to see,” you say, closing your eyes. 

Tears squeeze their way out unbidden. Miguel reaches to his right for the toilet paper and pulls off a few sheets, bundling them in his palm. Careful, hesitant, he brings the corner to your face and begins to dry your tears from your cheeks, your chin, the wet line running down to your t-shirt and then back to your eyes. He shushes you as you shudder, “Shh, lovely. Everything will be fine. Everything… Todo va a estar bien.” 

“It’s fine,” you whisper tightly. 

“It’s fine,” he echoes, much more kindly, though he’s no closer to understanding why you’d locked yourself away to cry so intensely. “Tell me what’s wrong, yes? You tell me what’s upset you.” 

“It’s nothing–”

You try to persuade him but end up sounding even more upset than you had, shaking your head from his touch, receding backward toward the sink. 

“Why won’t you talk to me?” he asks gently. 

“It’s so stupid, Miguel, you weren’t supposed to know.” 

He’d say it was unlike you to be secretive with your feelings. You love loudly, tease louder. You’re spirited and petulant when you feel like it and you’re constantly barraging him with cheerfulness he doesn’t deserve, so why doesn’t your unwillingness to share this with him surprise him? 

“But I know now,” he says, bending to be your height, to meet your tired eyes, “and I want to know what’s wrong so I can make you feel better. Can you let me do that?” 

“I don’t feel very well.” 

Miguel can only handle so much. He uses some of his added strength to wrap you up in a full body hug, your toes struggling to stay on tiptoes and then completely off the ground as he leans back under your weight. “I know,” he says, though he hadn’t, “it’s okay, cariño, I’m here. I’m gonna take care of you.” 

You’re all softness in your off-duty clothes. The rolled neck of a worn t-shirt, your naked arm curling behind his neck and your thighs to his. He doesn’t keep you up for more than a few seconds, just enough to take your weight and hopefully save you the energy it’s taking to stay upright. You sag against him as your socks touch down again. He’s the one thing keeping you standing, and he doesn’t mind. You should know that already. 

“Please,” he says emphatically, “don’t cry by yourself. You have to let me know.” 

“Sorry.” 

He moves his head from one side to another slowly, his nose rubbing along your hairline. “Don’t be sorry. But if I don’t know, how am I supposed to fix it for you?” 

“You shouldn’t have to.” 

“Are you kidding?” He encourages your head back tenderly to meet your eyes. “That’s what we do, hmm? What do you think?” 

You smile. Still sad, still watery-eyed, but a real smile. “Yeah.” 

“Alright. Let’s go sit down, okay? I’ll get you a drink.” 

“So weird,” you murmur. 

“I’m weird?” 

“You’re being really nice to me.” 

Miguel squeezes your arm. “Don’t get used to it, Spider-Girl.” 

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Epilogue

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: That marks the end of this series :( thank you guys so much for all the love and feedback! I’m so proud of this series and I hope u guys love it as much as I do.

Masterlist: Here

It had been a year since the custody battle, since Rafe and you had found yourselves standing side by side, figuring out this whole "family" thing. A year since both of you issued a restraining order against Ward, and the judge granted it. A year since you stopped pretending you didn’t feel something for him, and he stopped acting like he was too good for anyone, especially you. Now, the chaos of life had settled into a strange, beautiful rhythm. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but it was yours.

And, somehow, against all odds, the three of you had made it work.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, where you stood trying to assemble breakfast. You had learned, over time, that cooking for Willa was an Olympic sport. Every time you managed to whip together a simple meal, she somehow managed to flip the situation on its head—literally.

"Willa, no!" you heard Rafe call out from the living room. You looked up just in time to see him frantically trying to stop her from scaling the couch like some sort of tiny, diaper-clad Spider-Man. “You can’t climb up there!”

But Willa was undeterred. She gave a small shriek of triumph, her baby legs scrabbling up the cushions like she was born to conquer furniture. You had to admit, you were impressed.

"I swear she’s part monkey," you muttered under your breath, flipping pancakes with a practiced hand.

Rafe stumbled into the kitchen, his hair sticking out at odd angles, the look of a man who had given up on ever having a decent morning.

“You say that like it’s a surprise,” he deadpanned, rubbing his face. “We’ve had this conversation a hundred times. No more couch climbing. She’s already an inch away from that giant coffee table, which, let me remind you, is made of solid oak. And do you know what happens when Willa decides gravity is optional?”

You snorted. “We end up on the floor with her holding a half-empty juice box like she’s just conquered the world, while you scramble to pick up the pieces of your dignity.”

He shot you a pointed look. “Exactly.”

You set the pancakes aside and wandered over to rescue Willa, who was now attempting to climb up the back of the couch like a small, determined mountain goat. Scooping her up with one hand, you held her up in front of you. “You know, kid, you’re lucky you’re so cute, because if I had to stop doing my work every time you decided to do a backflip off a chair, I’d be in therapy by now.”

Willa gurgled, her eyes wide and innocent, as though she didn’t have a single rebellious bone in her tiny body.

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. “I’m just saying, if she’d stop doing that, maybe I could get ten minutes of peace. But no. We live in a house of chaos.”

You smirked, watching as Willa grabbed his shirt and yanked. “If she’s chaos, you’re the tornado that hits right after,” you teased, making Rafe roll his eyes dramatically. “Just admit it—you love it.”

He groaned but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah, I love the chaos. But you have to admit it’s a lot of work. I mean, who’s going to put together her tiny little rocking horse without accidentally breaking something?”

“Not me,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure I broke that rocking horse three times already.”

At that, Rafe laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, I’ll take that as my cue to fix it. You keep trying to make breakfast, and I’ll figure out what’s going on with the toy horse that’s apparently haunted.”

Willa babbled in your arms, and you kissed the top of her head. “I’m not saying this to be dramatic, but I’m pretty sure she is a secret agent in training. I’ve seen her figure out how to break into places she’s not supposed to be like she’s in a spy movie.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “Spy movie? She’s more like a tiny burglar who knows how to manipulate you with her big eyes and unstoppable giggle.”

You chuckled, nodding. “Fair. But I still think she could make a killing in espionage. Maybe we should start saving for her college fund in case she ends up needing a fake passport.”

Rafe grinned, his mood visibly lightened by your banter. “I’m pretty sure we’re going to need therapy more than we need a college fund. But I’ll get started on that fake passport idea, just in case.”

You grinned back at him, feeling that familiar warmth settle in your chest. There was a time—just a year ago—when you had no idea what your future would look like. Now, here you were, a family, even if it didn’t look like any family you had ever imagined.

“Well,” you said, turning back to the pancakes, “we better get our act together before she eats all the syrup by herself.”

Rafe snorted and shot you a grin. “You think she’s not going to try that already?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Later that day, after Willa’s nap (which, let’s be honest, was more of a battle than an actual nap), you and Rafe found yourselves in the backyard, taking a breather after the chaotic lunch you’d just survived. Willa was happily playing in her little sandbox, tossing sand like it was confetti at a New Year’s party, while you and Rafe collapsed onto the porch swing, exhausted but content.

"How the hell did we get here?" you asked, your voice quiet, more to yourself than to him.

Rafe leaned back with a sigh, staring up at the sky. "I’m pretty sure we got here because you’re too stubborn to admit you love me," he said with a grin.

You nudged him with your elbow. "Excuse me, but it’s not just me that’s stubborn. Have you seen the way you try to resist her puppy-dog eyes? You can’t even handle Willa when she does her sad little face, and you know it."

He groaned. “It’s my kryptonite. I’m weak. I’ll admit it.”

“Good. Because that means you’re finally accepting that she’s the boss around here. We’re just along for the ride.”

Rafe chuckled, nudging you back. “If that’s true, then I’m okay with it. Besides, she has the best team behind her, right?”

You smiled softly, watching Willa scoop up a handful of sand and drop it like a tiny little sandstorm. “Right. And we’re the best team for her.”

There was a pause, a quiet moment where both of you watched Willa. The future was still uncertain—life always was—but for the first time in a long time, it didn’t seem so scary.

“Well,” Rafe said, standing up and stretching, “I guess we better go make sure our future crime boss doesn’t eat the sand. You know, for her health.”

You snorted, laughing as you stood too. “You mean for the safety of our sanity?”

“That too,” Rafe said, laughing as he grabbed your hand and pulled you into a warm hug.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And for once, that was enough.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

And so, life continued. Chaotic. Messy. Full of love. Your newfound family was far from conventional, but it was undeniably theirs—and somehow, that made it all the more beautiful.

Plus, Willa? She’d definitely grow up to be a world-class agent of chaos, and Rafe and you would have to learn to live with that.

But at least you’d be together.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[fandomnerd9602]

Scarlet Delivery

a Scarlet Webs story

Wanda Maximoff x Spider-Man!Reader

Wanda was hyperventilating. Her cell phone was buzzing just waiting for you to pick it up.

“Hello?” You manage to answer.

“Detka, where are you?!” She managed to say in between her hyperventilating breaths.

“Currently…rush hour” you said sticking to the front of a police car. The perp was Mac Gargan. “You shouldn’t worry, baby. I’ll be there.”

“Promise?” Wanda said, tears streaming down her cheek.

“I promise.” A gunshot went off. You narrowly dodged a bullet, “gotta go. Hey! Can’t you see I was taking a phone call!?”

And with that you had to hang up and jump back into the fray. You hated having to do patrol without Wanda. But circumstances had changed the flow and now you were solo again. Nothing changes when you’re the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Meanwhile, Wanda’s tears were still flowing as a portal opened behind her. And out of the portal comes this universe’s Doctor Stephen Strange.

“It’s time,” he says gesturing for your lovey witch to follow. She does so, all the while hoping that you’d keep your promise.

You land on the hood of Mac Gargan’s stolen vehicle. “License and registration, sir?”

Blam! Another shot goes off, you jump onto the roof of the car. A couple more shots ring out. You dodge each bullet flawlessly.

“Can we wrap this up?” You mockingly whine, “I have prior engagements!”

You web up Mac and yank him out the car, webbing him to a nearby streetlight. The car barrels towards a nearby crosswalk where a little old lady with a Walker is currently trying to cross.

“Of all the times!” You jump onto the hood and spray it with various webs before jumping onto the back and yanking the car back with all your might, bringing the car to a dead halt mere inches from the elderly lady.

You give a quick salute and swing off. You knew the location. You knew where Wanda was gonna be. It was all a piece of cake right?

Well then came the Vulture. He tries to slice at you once, twice. “Not now Toomes! I have some place to be.”

“Yes. The morgue!” He tries slicing at you again. You swing thru Times Square and web the winged foe in a giant spider web.

“Yo! Spidey!” A citizen calls out to you.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your lady? The Witch?”

“I’m trying to get to her now!” You call out before swinging off again into the city. Why did it have to be on the other end of New York?

You land on a rooftop. You quickly web a couple silk lines to your suit, forming a makeshift pair of wings.

“I’m coming Wanda,” you shoot out two web lines and slingshot yourself across the city. Catching a wind current, you sail thru the open air of the city.

You see your destination: the Sanctum Sanctorum. You dive bomb and land right in front of the building. Wong quickly answers the door.

“How far?” You ask.

“You made it just in time.” He smiles and leads the way. You nearly run the way to the little room.

You run in to find Wanda in a relaxed position, still hyperventilating. Nine months pregnant and she still looked beautiful as ever. Dr Strange was readying his medical scrubs.

“Detka!” Wanda exclaims, tears of joy streaming down her face. You run up to her, kissing her gently.

“I promised I’d be here, right?” You ask with a little smirk. Wanda giggles and kisses you again.

“Okay Wanda,” Strange intones, “it’s time. Now push.”

“Sure you got this, Doc?” You ask.

“It’s not surgery. I’m just catching the babies. I won’t drop them.”

“Drop them and I will kill you” Wanda say through gritted teeth.

“I believe you” Strange answers back. “Now focus and push.”

It ended up taking the rest of the day and into the night but Wanda delivered two healthy baby boys. You and her were so excited.

“My boys,” Wanda said with fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “Billy. Tommy.”

“They’re amazing,” you kiss the top of Wanda’s head, “thank you baby.”

“Thank you. I love them so much already,” Wanda let out a little tired laugh. She actually had her boys in her arms. This wasn’t some conjured up version of them. This wasn’t some other universe’s version of them. This was them, flesh and blood. She had a loving spouse, two handsome little babies, a nice little home in Queens.

Wanda finally had the life she always wanted. And best yet, she got to have it with you, her Spider Monkey.

Tags: @tokufighter @ma1egamer @jacelion @lifespectator @aloneodi @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @multi-fandom-enjoyer @iamnicodemus @rroyale-109 @scarletquake-n7 @moonpheus

[amsgrey]

take it slow

Kaz Brekker x Fem! reader

request:

hi love!! could you please do a Kaz Brekker x reader where the reader helps Kaz cut his hair?? maybe it’s super hard for Kaz to do it himself for some reason and he finally lets reader help. they take it really slow tho so kaz is comfortable. thanks 🥰🥰

warnings: not proof-read, canon typical violence, talking of gambling, a whole lot of angsty fluff, Kaz working through his skin aversion/phobia, switches a lot between the reader's pov and Kaz's, I tried to be fancy with the wiring but its meh, mid ending

You sighed, looking out over the bustling tables and colourful clothes that made up the Crow Club. Pigeons and regulars crowd the tables to avoid the pouring rain beyond the doors. Nights like this were freezing, the Ketterdam cold had a way of finding the cracks in buildings. Seeping into homes and putting out fires. Whenever it would get too bad, the Crow Club would get busier. Kaz carefully built the club to be enticing, it was hard to leave the comfort of warmth with weather like tonight.

You were in charge tonight, a steep task seeming the steady stream of people entering the club. Kaz had locked himself in his room at the slat, the last job the crows had gone on went south. Kaz took a bullet to the arm, effectively losing his strength for the foreseeable future. It had made him sourer than usual, he had chewed Jesper out for being careless and letting the job go south.

You looked over at the gunslinger now, sitting at a table with Wylan, the latter trying to stop too much money from being squandered. You had promised to stake him for the night, to make up for the way Kaz had treated him, it was the least you could do. Even so, you still felt the gnaw of guilt watching him at the table. You weren't a fan of gambling, at least not the kind Jesper was. He liked the thrill of the unknown, but he never knew when to stop. At least Wylan was with him now, supervising to be sure Jesper had a good time but not so much that he would regret it.

Nina and Matthias were here tonight as well, they hardly ever stayed around the club, but tonight Nina had convinced Matthias to have a drink and enjoy the night. Inej had been with them at the start of the night but had since slunk off to do what she did best. You hoped Kaz hadn't sent her on any errands tonight, you worried the spider might just get washed off her perch if she was. The steep gables of Ketterdam were treacherous on a clear day, they would be lethal tonight.

You were startled when a shout echoed around the room, the man it came from was clearly unhappy with his hand. He stood from his seat and grabbed the dealer by his collar, shaking and shouting in his face. You rolled your eyes, men who lost at the tables often blamed the dealers for their misfortune. The man yelling had silenced the club, everyone watching as Keeg pushed his way over to the man. Fighting and violence were not allowed in the Crow Club, if you had an issue you took it outside. You watched from the stairs as Keeg seized the man and hauled him away from the tables, tossing him outside into the rain with a terse warning not to stick around. The room was bustling again before the doors even closed.

You climbed down the stairs and headed to where Matthias and Nina were sitting, comfortably tucked into one of the quieter corners of the club. Nina lit up when she saw you, as she always did.

'Are you here to join us?" She asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her.

You shook your head, "Have you seen Kaz tonight?"

Nina rolled her eyes, "I offered to help him with his arm but he refused." She crossed her arms, "Quite rudely, actually."

You offered her a small smile that felt fake, "Sounds like Kaz."

Nina waved her hand dismissively, taking a sip of her drink.

You turned to look back over the club, knowing you should be focused on the events that transpired here, but being unable to stop your mind wander back to the attic of the slat.

Kaz was not the easiest person to love but you did so anyway. Last night you had tried to offer him comfort, but he had lashed out and left you feeling stupid. You knew he had regretted his words, the moment he said them his eyes gave away his shock. Kaz was all sharp lines and harshness, he had boarded his heart up with cruel words and violent ways. You knew that he would not change at the drop of a hat, but you saw the good in him. The good he spent years burying so deep he couldn't find it himself. So you stayed patient, you gave him space when he needed it. Cautious not to smother him or hasten him when he was not ready. He would let you in, piece by piece until all his walls were gone, and he felt safe with you.

In the last few months since getting closer, Kaz had let you past his defences. He quietly told you small details about himself. How he had grown up outside of Lij, on a farm he had left behind after his father's death. How he was always fascinated with sleight of hand - magic - even as he outgrew childhood. He had even slowly told you about his brother. Only small things, like how he had been 5 years older and had died not long after they came to Ketterdam. You could see how hard it was for him to share those small things, watch him fight with himself about if he should tell you. So in turn, you told him about your own quietly kept secrets. It was a strange transaction, but you could feel the bond between you both strengthening the more you shared in the quiet of Kaz's room.

Nina pulled you from your trance with a hand on your arm, she drew your attention back to the present. You turned to look at her, knowing already she could feel how your heart was racing with worry.

"You should go try again," She said, squeezing your hand.

"I'm meant to be closing."

"We can do it," Matthias replied, "Jesper and Wylan will help."

You looked over to where Wylan and Jesper were, they seemed to feel your eyes on them and they turned and offered smiles.

"Go," Nina urged again, "Before I change my mind and cozy up in bed."

You hugged your friend tight, thanking her and asking her to pass on thanks to Wylan and Jesper.

You forced yourself out the doors before you could dwell too much more on it. Keeg waved you off, letting you know he would keep watch as you were gone.

You shoved your hands into your pockets as you walked, keeping your head down to avoid the rain as much as possible. You walked as quickly as you could, sticking to the side of buildings to avoid getting drenched in the downpour.

As you crossed over the bridge a few blocks away from the slat, Inej fell into step beside you. You were used to the Suli girl appearing at your side, if It were anyone else you would get startled, but Inej was always a comforting presence. Sometimes you felt like she was a saint, the way she watched over you and the crows. You told her this often, reminding her of how appreciative you were to have a friend like her around.

"Kaz hasn't sent you on any jobs tonight has he?"

Inej shook her head, "No."

You let out a breathy laugh, "Then why were you jumping across the rooftops?"

You knew the answer.

"I feel at home on the roofs, it's my own Ketterdam."

You hummed, taking in her answer. Inej told you about the time she spent training on the highwire as a child, how she loved the feeling of being free so high off the ground. She was brave and unwavering like that and you admired her greatly for it.

As you came up on the Slat, Inej disappeared back into the shadows of the night. She would return to the club, or retire to her room, but she enjoyed climbing her way across Ketterdam and you were happy to let her do so.

The slat was mostly quiet when you entered. Anika and a few other Dregs were drinking and conversing quietly as if not to disturb anyone. You knew it was to not bother Kaz. Although Dirtyhands had put in a lot of effort and money into making the slat warm and dry, voices still carried. Most nights you could hear conversations from the bottom floor all the way in Kaz's attic, it was how you knew whenever Jesper got back. He was loud enough to be heard all over the slat.

You started your climb up the stairs, watching your rain-soaked boots take each step with certainty. Although you climbed these stairs multiple times a day, you still felt as if you might trip down them. They were narrow and steep, a recipe for disaster when the rain made your shoes slippery.

Three floors up, you stopped in your room. It was hardly a room and more of a closet, fitting your cot and dresser and not much else. You truly didn't mind, you were right next door to Inej and you only ever came to your room to sleep or change.

You kicked off your boots and stripped off your socks, replacing them quickly with a dry pair to keep your feet warm. You shrugged off your jacket and hung it on the door handle , with any luck it would dry before you would need it again tomorrow. You slipped out of the room and headed back to the stairs to Kaz's room.

Your feet made no sound as you climbed the steps, the silence of your movements allowing you to listen for Kaz in his room. Most of the time you would hear him shuffling through papers, but tonight there was little noise coming from behind the door. As you reached up to knock you prayed he wasn't sleeping.

"Yes?"

You cracked open the door, surprised to find Kaz wasn't sitting at his desk but standing in front of the small mirror in the corner of the room. He had scissors in his good hand, the other shakingly brushing back his hair from his face.

You had noticed how Kaz's hair had gotten much longer lately. The dark strands often blocking his eyes. You knew it drove him crazy, he hated having his hair in his eyes, but he had been too busy to fix it for now.

Kaz shared how he cut his own hair not long ago, you remembered the conversation vividly. He had caught his reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands in the small basin, asking you if you liked his hair.

You had been surprised, Kaz never cared for what others thought of his appearance. You told him the truth, that you loved his hair. Loved how he took time to cut it and try to style it, to you it showed his quiet care. When you asked why he was suddenly concerned, he mentioned how Nina had teased him about it once. It had been a harmless comment, but to him brought back the fact that he feared others touch so much he couldn't bare to let someone else cut it. So it looked rough, uneven in some parts and sometimes much shorter than he intended. You offered to help him when he was ready, but he had yet to take you up on the offer.

"Kaz," You sighed, taking a tentative step forward as if not to startle him. "You should be resting."

Kaz just frowned at his reflection.

His hands were shaking, you noticed. His right hand with the scissors shook so subtly that you might have missed It if you weren't looking. His other hand gripped tight to the side of the basin, as he fought the pain that throbbed down his bicep.

"I can't stand it anymore," Kaz growled, glaring at the hair that kept flopping in his face.

You chuckled, watching the man glower at his reflection with all his barrel brutality.

Crossing the room towards him, you held out your hand, "Let me help."

Kaz stared at your hand like it was foreign. You waited patiently as he had an internal battle. You felt a pang of sympathy when you watched a look of longing pass over Kaz's face. He wanted to let you help, he wanted nothing more than to feel your hands running through his hair with the tender care you always held. But the waters were always there, right below him. If he let you help, they might just swallow him whole.

Finally, Kaz resigned the scissors to you with a sigh.

You smiled at him, "We'll take it slowly." You promised, "If it gets too much, tell me and we’ll stop."

Kaz nodded.

He watched you in the mirror as you stood behind him, assessing what he had already done and what you would do. You knew he liked it a certain way, you spent enough time staring at him to memorize how it always looked. You made eye contact with Kaz in the mirror.

"Ready?"

Kaz nodded, taking in a deep breath.

You ran your hand through his hair, combing it back off his face with your fingers. You could almost feel how Kaz relaxed, his tense shoulders falling just a little. You took it as a good sign, continuing to gently pull his hair away from his face and start cutting.

It was slow going, you paused every few minutes to remind Kaz to breathe and release the tension in his muscles. You had no intention of making him suffer through his flashbacks alone. So you muttered reassuring words, offering to take a longer break or to step back for a moment as he processed. Kaz would shake his head, refusing to let you move away in case he would never feel you close again.

Your body was so warm he could feel it through the shirt on his back. You were always comforting and warm like a fire on a cold day. Kaz sometimes felt himself leaning into the feeling, leaning into you. Getting close to someone after so many years of pushing everyone away was terrifying for him. But he was determined to work through it, to be worthy of the gentleness and care you bestowed on him.

When you were done, you ran your fingers through his hair one last time. Your fingertips brushed against the skin on the back of his neck. Typically, the feeling would repulse him, send him spiralling into the frigid waves, but now he felt warmth grow from where you touched. He let out a sigh, revelling in the peace that he felt at that moment. It had been so long since skin-on-skin contact had made him feel something other than repulsion, he had almost forgotten what it was like.

You stepped back, placing the scissors on the desk and giving him space. You were buzzing with emotions and you feared they might just burst out of you if you stayed too close.

The room was silent, the only sound coming from you and Kaz's quiet breaths. You could feel your heart beating erratically, it pulsated through your body as you tried to steady it. Kaz was staring at your handiwork in the mirror, his hands running through it and feeling how it reacted. After a few tense moments, he turned to you, the smallest of smiles on his lips.

Kaz's smiles were hard to earn. Often, it felt like his only facial expression was the stern frown he always wore. But every now and again, in the safety of these four walls, his eyes would relax and his lips pull upwards.

The first time Kaz had smiled at you, you had felt drunk. You could live in that moment for a million years and never grow sick of it. His smile was so gentle, it warmed you from the inside out. You searched for that feeling everywhere, but it only ever came when Kaz smiled.

You felt hopelessly lovesick now, staring into the eyes of the bastard of the barrel. He was so different within these walls, still sarcastic and ill-tempered at times, but also gentle and caring. When he allowed himself the chance to feel safe, you could see the little boy from Lij who loved magic and games.

"Thank you."

You could only just hear the words over the roar of your heartbeat, offering Kaz a tight-lipped smile and a wave of your hand.

"It's no problem."

You both stayed silent for a little longer, looking everywhere but at each other. You were brimming with butterflies, the same giddy feeling you got when you had your first crush.

Kaz stood from his perch, slowly limping over to you. You waited as he did so, worried a move might break the spell that overcame you both. You fiddled with your fingers, trying to calm the thoughts racing through your mind.

Kaz reached out a gloved hand, holding your hand to stop your anxious habit. You had held his hand before, mostly when he wore his gloves so that he wouldn't get too overwhelmed, but it always made you feel safe. The most dangerous man in all of Ketterdam was not dirtyhands here, he was Kaz, gentle and loving.

You watched silently as Kaz pulled his hand away and slipped his gloves off. You knew that he preferred to take things slowly, he needed to take things slowly. You were in no rush, you had all the time in the world for the man before you.

Kaz's hands were still shaky, trembling ever so slightly as he reached for you again. He slowly raised his good hand to your face, hesitating before making contact. His eyes held a question, asking kindly for your permission. You accepted with a small nod, unable to help the tiny smile on your lips. Kaz's hand was colder than you were expecting as he cupped your cheek, you were sure he would be able to feel how hot you were. His slender fingers sat against your jawline, his thumb feathering across your cheekbone, like he was exploring your face. You subconsciously leaned into his hand, closing your eyes and letting a sigh slip from your lips. You could live here forever, in this safety and warmth, tucked away from the prying eyes of Ketterdam.

Kaz took a shaky breath in and you pulled away, startled that you might have pushed him too far. He only smiled, taking a small step forward and keeping his hand on your cheek. You could feel his breath on your skin now, the ghosting of his fingers. It almost felt like a dream. Kaz leaned in a little closer, your foreheads almost touching. His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes and back.

Kaz wanted nothing more than to close the gap between you and press his lips to yours. You were so warm, your face tucked into his hand like it was made to be held by him. Your breath tickled his skin, it reminded him how you were here, alive. Saints, if he could just lean forward and-

All at once the water was snatching him under. The feeling of your skin turning cold and deathly. He lurched back, holding in his gags of disgust as the freezing waters overtook him.

"Kaz?"

He fell backwards, scrambling to put space between you both as he choked on the waters.

You could only watch as Kaz scrambled away from you, unable to do anything to stop him. He pulled himself as far away from you as he could, becoming a mess of shaking and shuddering breaths. He was panicking, the anxiety and fear clearly written across his features. It hurt, you wanted to help him but you feared you might only make it worse.

You knew you wouldn't be able to leave him in such a state, hyperventilating on the floor of his room. So you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, a good meter away from him to not suffocate him.

"I'm here, Kaz," You said softly, watching over him, "You're safe."

He took another few shuddering breaths, but they were slower than the last. You took it as a sign to keep going.

"Take it slow," You spoke just above a whisper, "I'm not going anywhere."

You stayed a safe distance away as Kaz calmed down, watching over him and offering quiet reassurances as he slowly came to himself. When the panic was gone from his eyes, it was replaced with guilt. You knew how hard it was for Kaz to touch skin, you didn't know exactly why, but you didn't mind taking things slow for him.

You cut Kaz before he could say he was sorry, "It's okay."

Kaz reached for his gloves and shoved them on, "It's not."

You shuffled a little closer, "Kaz." The boy looked up at you with his dark eyes, "Truly, it's alright. I will wait for you. If it takes days, weeks or years, I will be here."

Kaz's eyes were glossy, you had never seen him cry but perhaps this was the closest he ever got.

"You, Kaz Brekker, are worth waiting for."

Kaz looked down, "Rietveld."

It caught you entirely off guard, "What?"

Kaz slowly lifted his eyes to yours, "My real name is Kaz Rietveld."

Your face burst into a bright grin, "Well, Kaz Rietveld, it's nice to meet you."

[sinstear]

ㅤㅤㅤ❝ TIME HURRIES ON, AND THE LEAVES THAT ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤARE GREEN TURN TO BROWN ⛧ ❞

celebrating halloween with abby, and her heart is completely full that first night of october when you softly list every activity you want— need to do with her. at first it was the two page list of all the movies you wanted to watch, ranging from halloween, nightmare on elm street, to the nightmare before christmas, hocus pocus, jennifers body. abby couldn’t keep up because there were so many you had listed but she gladly accepted that movies, and the ones you wanted to see were a must this month.

abby loved the idea of renting movies, there was something so nostalgic yet familiar with the feeling and memory that she refused to use any movie streaming sites for your movie night. she wanted the physical disc in her hands, and you just wanted to see the smile on her face. so it wasn’t that surprising to you when she got home from her long shift at work, dropped her bag— which sounded heavier than when she packed it this morning and looked at you with a mischievous grin on her face. instead of telling you, something she usually does, she simply pulls out a plastic bag, one from her favorite movie places, and passes it to you. that grin still resting on her lips.

“did you rent all of them?” you grumbled, almost dropping the heavy bag on the floor. sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you slowly peek into the bag, you weren’t sure why you were acting like something was going to jump out at you, but your heart melted and a smile quickly made it’s way onto your face when you spotted all the movies you had told her about— all the ones wrote on your list, were inside the bag. “you rented all the ones i told you about?” you gasped, looking at her with wide eyes.

“were they the right ones? if not i can go back and—” you’re cutting her off by practically jumping onto her, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck, and kissing all over her face. a loving smile creeps up on abby’s lips and a blush flushes her cheeks. “m’guessing they are the right ones then, pretty girl?” she chuckled, wrapping her arms around your waist.

“yes, yes. they are the right ones, thank you. i love you”

“you’re welcome. i love you the most, sweet girl,” abby smiled and kissed your cheek. “what’s next?”

decorations. you can’t ever go wrong with them. abby figured it would simply be a couple of pieces here and there over the following few days. she expected to come to see a few halloween garlands on the wall, maybe a different mug, and maybe, just maybe a new movie addition. oh boy, how wrong she was. you’d completely removed the soft blue blankets and all of the cute pillows, that you had begged her to let you buy, and replaced them with brown pillows with white and creme blankets. maybe a few mint green pieces here and there. the fireplace was decorated with leaf garlands and candles scattered all over. the hallway coming in through the apartment door was more or less the scary part. the walls were completely decorated with fake webs, fake spiders, and some horror posters that you had both got together a few years ago. abby didn’t realize that you went all out for different holidays.

“did you do all of this today?” her tired voice rang out from behind you. your body quickly spun around and welcomed her with a soft smile. one that she truly misses when she’s not home and looks at her with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “oh, you look so cute in that sweater.” she chuckled at the ghostface sweater you had pulled out from the back of your closet. “very fitting for the occasion”

“why thank you” you giggled softly. “as for the decorations, yeah. when i got home i started, i was in the zone and i managed to do most of it in here. i left the bedroom and kitchen free because i wanted to do that with you. i know how much you complained about putting up christmas decorations in here last year” you trailed off, smirking behind your coffee mug when abby narrows her eyes at you. silently telling you to watch it. “do you like it? i didn’t want to put a lot of scary decorations in here knowing i might have a heart attack one night when i think the fake spider is going to kill me.”

“i love it,” abby nodded, stepping further into the living room and looking around. “it’s not too scary and it’s very cozy. is this the candle i bought you?” she mumbled leaning down and taking a small whiff of the pumpkin candle. “it is isn’t it?”

“yes, abs. it’s pumpkin. i like the smell of them, and what a perfect time to use the one you bought me?” you smiled and wrapped your arms around her neck when she just shook her head with a soft laugh and walked over to you. “missed you”

“i missed you too” abby mumbled into your neck and squeezed your body gently against hers. “m’gonna take a shower, then we can do the rest of the decorations and watch one of those movies, yeah?” 

“jennifers body?” 

“we can watch whatever you want, just let me shower real quick, okay?”

“take your time.”

abby wasn’t gone long, just like she promised, as she stumbled out of the bathroom not even 10 minutes, freshly cleaned, smelling like pinecone and coconut, changed into something more comfortable, and her hair wet when she found you unpacking the new pillows and blankets from one of the boxes she hasn’t seen since last halloween. “couldn’t wait, huh?” she smiled.

“no,” you cheekily smiled back at her, “the other box has all the decorations in if you wanted to pick the stuff you wanted to put up?” 

“i love putting the decorations up in here” the blonde admitted, picking up one of the pictures of the both of you from a previous date she had taken you on. “i remember we went to a haunted house at that one carnival once before we took this and you almost screamed my eardrum out when a ghost scared you.”

“i thought you weren’t going to bring that up again?!” you huffed softly. 

“you were so cute, clinging to me like your life depended on it, even though the ghost wasn’t real” she giggled and pressed a kiss on your forehead when you pouted up at her. “you know i love you though”

“i love you”

as the night moved on, both you and abby gradually put up some of the less scarier halloween deortations in your bedroom. each time she would move back towards the box, you found yourself happily watching her. watching how she had silent battles with herself on what she wanted to put up, and what to put away until it was over. your heart constantly melts when she simply pouts before throwing something on the floor and changing her mind. or how abby would catch you off guard when you were putting up something of your own, and she would creep up behind you and pick you up. the both of you falling into a fit of giggles and laughter.

not before long, your bedroom was looking more halloween ready, soft lights hung around the bedframe, fake cobwebs hanging over the bathroom door, some of those same horror posters that were in the hallway hanging up on the wall that was filled with photos and memories with you and abby. one of her ideas was putting fake blood all around some of the candles, which you happily agreed to. you loved when abby did her own little crafts.

“movie?” abby pouted, looking up from the box with a tired pout.

“yeah, baby. you pick the first one”

“i thought we were watching jennifers body?”

“you pick, i’ll pick the next one” you smiled, cupped her face between your hands and kissed her lips. “and while you do that, i’ll make hot chocolate and find some of the halloween candy i bought earlier”

“s’time to watch that movie you don’t— just kidding, baby” abby smiled mischeviously when she noticed your narrowed eyes. 

“do you want me to have nightmares?”

“i’ll protect you from your nightmares, always, baby”

“i love you.”

“i love you more, but m’gonna put on saw”

“abigail!”

[asumofwords]

Watercress

Warnings: She/her pronouns. Smallfolk OC, mentions of death and war, descriptions of injury and blood, slowburn. Tags will be added as the fic goes along.

Pairings: Aemond x She/Her

Summary: Raised in the Riverlands, near the shadow of Harrenhal, her life was one of endless toil and quiet resilience. Every day was the same—scraping together food, tending to the ill, and surviving the harsh realities of a land marked by struggle. But when war came, it brought horrors beyond anything she could have imagined. The skies blazed with fury, the waters of the Gods Eye churned with the echoes of battle, and then—just as suddenly as it began—the world grew eerily quiet. She believed the worst was over. That was, until a fateful discovery in the woods shattered her fragile peace and set her on a path she never could have foreseen.

Notes: Hello there my sweet angels! Thank you so much for your patience in me writing this. It has been such a long time since I have written anything and I am so excited to finally have a burst of energy (and the inspiration) to do it! As I'm writing this I'm like, is this similar to Lighthouse? And you know what, potentially? Lmaoooo. I'm not sure how many chapters this bad boy is going to be, but it will be a miniseries hehe. If you want to be tagged in the taglist, let me know, otherwise I hope you enjoy! <3

Chapter 1: Broken

Still and brittle air. A body of water that had rippled with anger, now calm and without falsely made tides. In the woods beside the ever stretching lake, there was food to be found, herbs to be foraged, and animals to be hunted. What she hadn’t accounted for was the discovery of a man.

As she moved through the nearby woodlands, her eyes diligently scanned the forest floor for edible plants to gather and bring home. She followed a slender stream that wound its way like a vein through the lush greenery. Below her, she spotted some watercress and knelt down to collect it.

The plant was easy to identify, its round, dark green leaves gleaming with a healthy shine, growing in plump clusters that resembled clover. A common enough find, watercress was versatile—its peppery flavour could be enjoyed raw or cooked, adding a subtle kick to various dishes.

With gentle precision, she cut the stems at their base using her blade, then placed the watercress into the small basket she held at her hip. The air filled with a faint peppery scent as her fingers began to feel the familiar tackiness from the leaves. She took care not to harvest too much, arranging the watercress atop the rest of her foraged goods before continuing along the well-worn path toward the lake. Beneath the cloth in her basket lay a worn net, neatly folded, its ends weighted by sinkers like the delicate strands of a spider's web.

A lot of trouble the lake had seen in the few days past. Troubles from highborn nobles who cared naught about the smallfolk who outnumber them. But now that it was still, it was almost eerie from how so much chaos can suddenly halt in its tracks from the actions of just two; how much destruction just even one could make. 

The soft chirping of birds echoed through the gaps between the trees, mingling with the gentle creaking of branches swaying in the breeze. As she neared the shore, the bushes and trees grew sparser, revealing the familiar lake’s edge. Stones of varying sizes scattered the bank, and the water lay calm, a deep shade of blue.

Her cottage was tucked behind her, deeper within the woods from where she had come. It was close enough to the village—a few hours walk—but far enough that few ventured to this secluded corner of the lake. There was an unspoken respect for the boundaries each had claimed, and everyone faithfully followed their familiar, ancestral paths.

Though autumn rapidly approached, and the nipping of the cold chilled her through her skirts, the woman still stripped her feet of her shoes and stockings, pulling up her skirts and apron to knot at the side, leaving her legs bare to the open air. 

With a swift flourish, she pulled the net from the basket and waded into the lake until the water reached her knees, disregarding the cold that bit at her skin. In the frigid depths, her feet slid over and between the rocks beneath, occasionally unsettling her balance and sending small ripples across the surface.

She stood motionless for a time, waiting for the disturbed fish to be lulled back into a false sense of safety. Once the water had settled, she cast her net, its pointed corners spreading like the limbs of an octopus before sinking below the surface. She gripped the long rope attached to the center and began to drag the net back toward her.

At first, the net yielded only a few stray leaves and a couple of twigs. Undeterred, she carefully ensured that the net was untangled before tossing it back into the water. Again, she pulled it in quickly, only to find the same meager catch. She repeated the process until her toes had grown numb and a dull ache crept up her shins from the cold.

Moving to a new spot, she threw the net once more, watching the weights sink swiftly as she pulled it in. This time, there was resistance.

The water rippled and splashed as she hauled the net up, revealing three small fish trapped inside. Their silvery bodies thrashed side to side, desperately trying to escape. With swift, steady steps, she walked back to the shore and dropped the net onto the dirt bank, watching the fish flop and struggle. Taking out her hunting knife, she carefully avoided cutting the rope as she held each fish down, driving the blade into their heads. The frantic thrashing slowed to a dull twitch, and then ceased altogether. She slit their bellies open, removed the guts, and flung them into the water, hoping to attract more fish—or perhaps even larger ones.

She placed them in the basket, but their sizes were nothing extraordinary. She thought that she could dry some for later, store them to eat dried or to soak in a stew with a thick bread. And though the coldness was beginning to get to her, she continued, walking straight back into the water to throw her net back in. 

Casting the net out far and pulling it back in, she managed to get four more fish which she killed, gutted and placed in the basket beside the other. Though not greedy, she knew that the winter months would soon be upon her and it was best to be prepared with an ample store of dried fish and foods, even more-so now after the war had ravaged so much of the Seven Kingdoms. She decided that if she was to have ten, she would be able to eat well that evening as well as have a fair stash to have ready whenever needed. 

Once more she stepped out into the water, though this time daring to wade deeper, the water coming to her mid thigh, the bottoms of her skirts and apron slowly became saturated, the weight pulling her body down. 

Another cast of the net, she watched as the weights sunk into the dark depths, the sun bleached rope disappearing into the lake before she began to pull at the rope, only this time the tension of the rope pulled taught and the net became stuck. 

With a huff, she blew a stray strand of hair from her face and yanked on the net, trying to dislodge it from whatever it had snagged on—a branch or perhaps a rock. But the net wouldn’t budge, and her frustration grew. She pulled harder, and the net finally came free, but the force sent her stumbling backward, her foot slipping into a small dip in the lakebed. Her hips plunged into the cold water.

"Fuck." she hissed as the icy water soaked her gown up to her waist.

In a surge of anger, she wrenched the net toward her, only to find her frustration deepening when she saw a rip in the netting. The frayed rope left a gaping hole, one that would take considerable time to mend—or perhaps force her to start anew.

“Fucking cunt.” She flung the net back to shore, the weights making a wet thud on the soil, as she looked to where the her net had got caught. 

With her dress already soaked, she made no quarrels with walking deeper, the icy lake now coming up to her chest as she tried to peer down into the dark depths to see what her net had gotten snagged on. Why she looked, she did not know. Perhaps to curse out whatever rock or object had ruined her perfectly fine net. At the very least she had caught enough fish to last her until she could mend the torn net, or start anew. Gods forbid she had to walk to a nearby town to buy one.

With careful feet she waded in the water, reaching her toes out first in search of the sunken object. Hands balancing her atop the waters surface, she reached further forward in search. Her toes touched small rocks, their broken edges skating against the sides or sole of her foot-- but still it was not what had ruined her net. There were many rocks in the lake, she knew this, the fishermen who had boats on the lake and drew trade knew this, but she frequented this spot enough to know that there was something new there that shouldn’t be.

Rough and smooth all at once she felt it, something before her nestled between boulders. As her toe searched the foreign object, a sharp sting radiated up from them. She hissed, pulling her foot backwards, wondering if there was something new within the lake that could swallow her whole. Her curiosity took over. Tentatively, she pushed her foot out again, finding the smooth yet bumpy object that seemed to be colder than the water itself. The more she touched it, the more she realised that it was not what she had thought at all. In fact, she was surprised to come to the conclusion that it was manmade. 

With her dress already soaked, she dipped her arm into the water, shoulder and breast dipping beneath the surface halting her breath as her fingers sought out what her toes had found. Cool metal met her hand, her digits wrapping around a cylinder shape, the feeling of spirals beneath. With all her might she pulled it, the weight of what she held making her strain, but as she lifted it she was able to see the glinting of steel beneath the water as it got closer to the surface. 

The sword hilt was black and gold, a sort of spiral shape at the top, its cross guards gold and in the shape of a head, a bird perhaps? Or a dragon? It was long and heavy, and just when she thought the rest of it would come to the surface, she was wrong. It was far too large and too heavy for her to pull it up out of the water. Stepping back carefully with the new found object in hand, she dragged it behind her, the point dragging over rocks and sediment alike until finally she was back on the shore. 

The make of the sword told her that it was worth its weight in gold, and even had gold upon it to prove her observations further. It would have belonged to a nobleman, or perhaps even a knight, though the closer the looked at it, the more features she could see that resembled symbolism of House Targaryen. 

So it was one of theirs, then. 

She let the sword drop to the sand, hands on her hips as she looked at both her basket full of food and fish, the broken net, and finally to the sword. The sword would be worth much, but she would have to travel far to sell it to anyone with the coin to buy it. But then comes the trouble of travelling with such a large, and if she was correct in what she thought it was, recognisable item. It would risk raiders, or worse, some overzealous loyalist who deigned her a thief and cut off her hands. 

Eyes drifting behind her towards the lake, she wondered what had happened those days past. 

She remembered the sound, the ear piercing shrieks from the sky, heat of fire, the smell of smoke and crashing of water. But she had run as fast as she would once she saw the great green beast fly overhead.

Nothing good ever came to the Riverlands when She was near.

Eventually though, having nowhere else to go, the woman had returned in the night, hidden amongst the forest and trees, listening for the sounds of roaring and flame which had ceased quickly as it echoed around the lake. And when she arrived back to the lake, it was quiet once more.

The dance of the two dragons above Gods Eye was no more, and she could finally go back to living her life; uninterrupted. 

She scanned the shoreline surrounding, eyes narrowing in the distance to see if she saw any signs of the dragons. Perhaps they had crawled out from the lake on the other side and had made their way towards her end? But the lake was so large and so deep, that none could even see to the other side.

Turning to pick up her basket and the sword again she was halted by the flickering of something shiny in the distance, the setting sun reflecting off of metal amongst tree root and rock. She wondered briefly if it was going to be another sword, or perhaps a helm. That would be easier to sell at the nearby town; a smith would certainly pay handsomely to melt down the steel and turn it into whatever wares he desired. She kicked soil over the blade and placed the basket full of greens and fish atop the hilt, covering the gold and reflective surface entirely before making her way towards the flickering light. 

Her dress pulled down on her shoulders heavily, water dripping from the hem with each step as a chill rose upon her flesh. But something compelled her further, despite all other instincts within, she pushed on, making her way towards the glinting metal which snaked along the rocky shore. The closer she got, the more she recognised that it was chains, draped and shining in the sun, some covered in dirt the rest leading towards the water. 

She thought of the many things she could do with the chains, what their worth could be, and whether or not it was worth going further to collect them, and yet still she persisted, feet muddy and wet, a slight sting from where the blade of the sword had cut at her toes.

She bent down to gaze upon them, strong, good quality steel it seemed. They had not tarnished, nor were their many marks upon them. The chain links were half the length of her arm and triple the width, its weight likely more than her own. They were far too large for her to carry alone.

A breeze rolled through the forest and across the water, sending goosebumps to rise over her body with a shiver. It was getting dark, she was drenched, and the best option was to leave the larger find behind and come back for it on the morrow, perhaps with a plan on how she would move the chain from water, to shore, to forest, to door. 

She turned to face the forest and was greeted with evidence of the destruction dragons could inflict. Trees older than her grandmother had ever been, their trunks as wide as horses, split down the centre and broken from the impact of a large body. Further within she could see the singed tree tops, where ash that had settled down atop the canopy. The eeriness of a broken forest and a broken realm, far too close to home.

And yet she was drawn to it, this destruction. It was unlike anything she had witnessed before; she was pulled forward. Feet crunching on the pine floor, the crunch of her steps deafening in comparison to how quiet it was amongst the carnage. The animals had not yet returned, the ones that had once been there dead, silent. 

Even with the trees that had somehow managed to survive, to stand tall despite the terror that had reigned above them, their trunks and leaves were covered in the evidence of what was. Ash, streaked each surface, and with a curious hand she place it atop the bark of a tree, brushing her finger along the ridges of the wood, watching as they turned grey. A quick rub of forefinger and pointer together made the ash smear, and as she stood by that tree, taking in the scene before her, her eyes focused upon a darkness behind the tree that should not have been there. 

Something that was not born of ash nor bark nor fur. 

Something human. 

Uncertainly she took a step around the tree to see the beginning of a boot, a leathered boot at that. And attached to it a leg, and then hips, and finally;

A man. 

Dressed head to toe in dark leather, now grey with ash, the man lay on his side. Her heart raced in her chest, though she had seen the dead before, this time was different. This time it was not a sick merchant, nor a child who had gotten the winter fever. It was not her father dying at the hands of a drunken fight, blood trickling from his mouth. 

This was one of them. 

Long silver hair lay knotted across the mans face, ash streaking the pearlescent tresses grey. His skin much the same, though the parlour was similar to a corpse; so pale, so almost blue that she could have mistaken him for one of Harrenhal’s ghosts.

Was he the man who had slaughtered the Strong family at Harrenhal?

Or was he the one who commanded the brutal rape and murders of those who opposed the Blackwoods? 

Did it matter? She thought to herself, They were all the same.

The leg she had discovered was bent at an unnatural angle, the shin snapped in two, broken in a way that if he had lived he would have been crippled for the rest of his days. The rest of his body did not fair well either, tears in his leather tunic and breeches given way to an attack, or a fall, or Gods knew what else. The famed silver hair which obscured his face from view was red at his skull, slowly seeping into a rust colour where blood had dried from a wound. 

Bare toes stood beside the pale mans head as she dipped to her knees, her wet dress sticking to the ash and pine coated floor. She observed him for a time, admiring the stitchwork of the tunic he wore, noting that it would likely be-- despite its conditions-- the nicest thing she could own. But she was no grave robber, and she had no desire to be haunted by his spirit after desecrating his corpse. 

Her curiosity however won out, and with an unsteady hand, unsure whether it be from the cold or the man, she reached forth to brush the blood crusted hair away from his face.

Despite its appearance, ash, blood and leaves tangled in the locks, his hair was as soft as silk as she brushed it with her hands. The skin of his ear was cold to the touch. She swept the tangled heap away from his brow and cheek, revealing a bruised and cut cheek, though that was not what had made her breath skip in her chest. 

The space where his eye should have been was empty, though not from this battle, but from one many years ago she supposed, the skin of the brow and cheek scarred deeply down his face. She could see to the back of where his eye would have once sat, the flesh darkened and scarred.

Aemond One-Eye.

Following the scar on his cheek, she looked to his lips, where dried blood had crusted at its opening and down his other cheek to the forest floor. His nose, aquiline and strong had bled too, as did his ears from what she would see, and through the centre of his face a cut sliced through the bridge where bruising and bone were visible. 

It was weird, to sit so close to a corpse of royalty, and she were sure that if he were alive he would have stuck her for daring to even touch him. For daring to even touch his pure blood, and his pure hair, and his purer skin. And this thought alone made her touch him all the more, tracing curious fingers across his cheek, his nose, the scar running through his cheek, and down to his neck, where his tunic had been torn and the pale expanse of his neck was visible. 

Her finger trailed down past his jaw, underneath it, wondering what in the world separated the two of them. They died just like everyone else. Whether that be in the birthing bed, in cups of ale, or fighting one another. What made the Targaryens so far removed from her? Besides their silver hair, their lilac eyes and their dragons, they were merely men, and all men died.

The King was proof of this.

A faint fluttering beneath her fingers made her lift her hand in shock, her digits hovering over the mans face as she looked at him in disbelief. 

He couldn’t…

She leant down, dipping her ear beside his lip as she rested a hand against his ribs. 

And there it was, a rattling breath so weak, so quiet, that had his lips not been pressed against her ear she would not have heard it. 

He was alive.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 18

Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: Miguel and you attend the Spider Society's beach trip. Word Count: 16k Warnings: a pregnancy reveal; discussion of second chances, children, and parenthood Music (Spotify playlist): "beanie" - no/vox, karaokey (instrumental version) “Beach Baby” - Bon Iver “Armstrong Cabin” - Justin Hurwitz “Moon River” - Audrey Hepburn Masterlist

Part 18

Standing in front of a large window at the Spider Society’s HQ, you gaze at Nueva York. You stand there for a few minutes, simply admiring the view in complete silence despite the different thoughts running through your mind.

First, there’s Peter. Your Peter. Another year has gone by since his death, officially making it five years. In the blink of an eye, somehow, half a decade has passed since that day when you lost him so unexpectedly. You still miss him, every day. The pain has slowly faded, though there’s still a heartache that you’re sure will remain in your heart forever, but it’s easier now. You still visit him at the cemetery every weekend and place fresh flowers for him and your other loved ones. And of course, like every year, you also visited Peter on his birthday to spend some time with him a while back.

For some reason, there was a moment in which you found yourself thinking about how ten years ago, you were someone completely different. You had someone to call yours and that someone called you ‘mine.’ At night, your bed was shared with him. Strong arms embraced and held you like you were the most precious being to ever exist. Kisses were pressed to your forehead tenderly. Your cheeks were cupped by gentle hands, the same ones that left goosebumps across your skin on passionate nights. You danced in the living room and soft laughter filled your ears. Your hand was held when you walked around the city, a thumb brushed over the back of your hand in comforting motions.

You’ve always been loved, still are, but no longer in that way. In a romantic sense.

You were loved like that once. So much.

The thought that maybe — just maybe — you’re still loved like that by Peter, even if you can’t feel, see, or hear it, crossed your mind while you sat there. It brought you comfort, it really did, but the realization was still there: you haven’t felt romantic love in so long.

Staring at the clouds now, you try to figure out why you even had that thought to begin with.

You sat on the ground with Miguel behind you because something in you decided to invite him along to your cemetery visit this year.

It felt right to do so considering Miguel has spent two of Peter’s birthdays with you already. Two years ago, you lied to Miguel and Lyla about your plans by saying that you were going out to watch a movie with friends, only for Miguel to find you at your apartment with a birthday cake and tears streaming down your face because he was returning your mask, which you had left earlier at his lab while organizing it.

Miguel stayed with you that evening, gave you company. That was the first year you didn’t celebrate on your own after three years, and after your initial embarrassment from Miguel finding you in such a vulnerable state, you were thankful for the company and his reassurance that you weren’t, still are not, crazy by celebrating Peter’s birthday despite his death.

He spent last year with you, too, and so, it felt right to invite him to come with you.

It felt right to invite one of the most important people in your life to meet another equally important person, who was and continues to be, so special to you.

The best part? Miguel kindly accepted the invitation, so you both traveled to your universe. He arrived with his own offering of flowers and offered to help you clean his grave from any overgrown weeds. You smile a little as you remember your fingers brushing when you both went for the same spot of weeds. You looked at him at the same time he looked at you and found a small smile on his face already, amused with the little accidental brushing of fingers. You both placed your flowers side by side once the area was cleared and then, you wished Peter a happy birthday before Miguel introduced himself and wished him a happy birthday as well.

You talked more about Peter with Miguel that day; told him about the early days when you first met him, what it was like when you were both in college, and so on before Miguel offered to step back for a few minutes to let you speak with Peter in privacy. You appreciated the gesture and took the time to do just that before your mind took you to those thoughts about once being loved in a romantic sense. You have no idea how it led to that, but you know that Miguel seems to have sensed a shift in your mood because he came back and knelt by your side.

He shifted your attention from what you were thinking about to a blue bird that sat on a nearby gravestone. It chirped, as if it knew that it had an audience, for what felt like half a minute before it turned towards the two of you. It almost felt like it studied you both while you smiled at the sight, at the beautiful and cheerful sounds, before it spread its wings and flew off into the sky.

You remember chuckling through your nose and thanking Miguel for pointing the bird out. “Let’s go home,” you said afterwards. After pressing a kiss with your fingerprints to Peter’s gravestone, Miguel and you began your way to the cemetery’s exit, failing to notice two butterflies flying over Peter’s gravestone.

You bring a hand to your mouth, gently rubbing the back of your thumb over your bottom lip now. So… It’s now half a decade since Peter’s death, but you’re in a better place. Better than you were two years ago when you first joined the Spider Society, that’s for sure.

You return your gaze to Nueva York’s buildings, the other thought on your mind coming to the surface.

It’s been a few months since your apartment building caught on fire and ever since then, you’ve been living with Miguel at his penthouse. Following your own universe, Miguel’s dimension is the second Earth you spend the most time at, and ever since temporarily moving in with him, that has only become even more true.

You’ve become so familiar with Miguel’s dimension, it has truly become a second home. You’ve witnessed sunrises and sunsets, have admired the stars and moon. You’ve spent rainy evenings in the penthouse’s living room with Miguel, drinking café de olla [pot coffee]. You’ve even become familiar with the way the transportation system works, streets’ names, and stores among other things as if this dimension is your own.

Yet, the one thing you’ve become the most familiar with is Miguel’s close company and presence. At first, you believed it would take you some time to get used to sharing a home space with someone again, but the truth is that you fell into a routine with Miguel almost instantly.

You’ve enjoyed living with Miguel, there’s no denying that and if you tried to, you’d be lying.

A deep sigh, one that comes from somewhere deeply within you, escapes from your lips when you’re reminded of the fact that you should be okay to move back to your own apartment next week. You’ve kept up with the progress as the months have gone by, of course. The apartment still means so much to you because of the history it has, that is, your and Peter’s history; your time and memories with him.

Despite the fact that you should be good to move in next week, neither Miguel nor you have talked about it beyond the small conversation, if you can even call it that, from a few days ago when Miguel asked how the construction was going. You told him the truth, that the building is nearly ready for tenants to return. He nodded at your response and replied with, “I’m glad it’s going smoothly.”

You haven’t even decided on which day to move out and Miguel hasn’t asked either. It almost feels like neither of you care to discuss that very important detail.

Crossing your arms over your chest now, you groan to yourself at the though of moving out. You tell yourself it’s because of what moving back to your apartment entails. There’s the highly needed deep clean of every single area and room. Then, there’s the packing and unpacking of your things.

You’re not looking forward to either task, or any tasks having to do with moving out, really.

And if you’re honest with yourself, you’re also not looking forward to moving back to your universe.

“Why the long face?”

You jump at the sudden noise, startled from your thoughts. With a hand pressed over your racing heart, you turn, only to find Peter B. grinning from ear to ear because of your reaction.

“No reason. Just thinking,” you reply, feeling your heart begin to return to a normal heart rate. “What’s up?” you ask, hoping to change the subject.

Peter hums, observing you. He decides to follow along with your change of conversation instead of prying.

“I was just on my way to meet with Jess and some of the other members to discuss our…” Peter trails off to build suspense, smiling. “Beach trip!

“Beach trip?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. You haven’t heard anything about this.

Nodding, Peter continues. “Beach trip! In another dimension. Jess, a few other members, and I have been planning it for a few weeks, trying to get everything together. Everything is settled now, except for a few last minute details. It’s this weekend.”

“I hadn’t heard about this,” you reply honestly.

“I guess Jess and I forgot to mention it,” Peter responds with a frown. “I’ve had a lot on my mind recently, running around doing this and that, but the good thing is you now know,” he continues with a grin as he throws an arm around you. He starts walking, tugging you along. “You’re coming, right?”

“I - uh,” you blink a few times, walking along with him. You literally just found out about it. “I know nothing about the actual plans. Where are people staying at?”

“There’s bungalows,” Peter explains. “We got a head count of who’s all coming and got what we needed.”

“I just found out. Like, two minutes ago, so that means I’m not in that headcount.”

“We counted you in, Jess and I. We were going to tell Miguel and you about it, but it was the day Miguel was having a rough day, so we knew better than to bother him, and then, you disappeared, too. We later found out you both headed out and went home, so Jess and I decided to go ahead and mark a bungalow for the two of you.”

“Oh - really?”

“Though, of course, I doubt Miguel will go,” Peter says tilting his head. “In the past, he hasn’t participated in things like these. He funds them to boost morale among the spider members, but never attends. So, I’m not even going to get my hopes up. You’ll probably have the bungalow by yourself.”

Still walking, you frown at Peter’s words regarding Miguel not attending and having a bungalow by yourself. Peter’s tone indicates that he’s certain about this. It seems in his mind there’s no way Miguel will attend, no matter what.

“That’s just Miguel,” Peter continues gently, patting your shoulder in a reassuring way. “So - you in?”

“Let me think about it,” you reply. “This is a little abrupt. I’ll let you know by the end of the day, if that’s okay?”

Peter nods, removing his arm from you. “Of course. I hope you come along. It’ll be a fun and nice getaway. We can all use a weekend away from our superhero duties, or as much as we can before duty calls again,” Peter states.

You chuckle and nod. “True words,” you say, noticing just now that Mayday isn’t with him. “Where’s Mayday?”

“Mayday?” Peter scratches his neck and chuckles. “She stayed with Mary Jane today. She’s been… What’s the word? More attached to her mom lately, so,” Peter shrugs. “I gotta respect that even though I miss her.”

“I’m so used to seeing her every day,” you state as you both begin to walk again. “It’s going to be sad not seeing her here as often once she starts school.”

“Don’t get me started on that,” Peter says with a huff. “My baby has grown up so much, too fast. They really do grow up too quickly. Agh, I rather not think about that day. Not yet,” he says with sadness.

Now you’re the one that pats Peter’s arm reassuringly. “She’s still little and she’ll always be your baby, even when she’s all grown up. Enjoy every moment,” you reply softly, briefly thinking about your own Peter and how he wished to be a father — a dream that was never reached. Never will.

You shake the thought away, turning to look at one of your gizmos since you’re still testing out the one Miguel is trying to launch soon.

“I’ll see you in a bit. I have some work to do,” you state, looking at him again.

“I must head out, too. I’m mentoring some new recruits, so,” Peter sighs heavily, making you grin.

“At least you have Miles’s help though.”

“That’s true. My mentee is now helping me mentor. I’m growing old. Older,” Peter says, correcting himself with a grin.

“We all are,” you reply, grinning back. “The law of life.”

“The law of life,” Peter repeats. “Alright, let me know about the beach trip! I’ll see you around!”

You say goodbye before Peter swings off for training, leaving you alone again. Humming to yourself, you continue walking, thinking about the beach trip and Peter’s words regarding Miguel.

As the day goes on, you discover that most of your friends already know about the beach trip, but with so much going on at HQ recently and in their personal lives, they forgot to mention it to you. That doesn’t bother you at all, but you do feel a growing frustration when most of them assume Miguel won’t go. Gwen, Margo, and Penny ask if you wish to join them in their bungalow so you don’t have to be in the other bungalow alone. Miles tells you that his ‘tío’ [uncle] is still stubborn to this day. And, Spider-Ham jokingly offers to come up with a plan to kidnap Miguel and deliver him to the beach destination. He said it was a joke, but you’re not so sure about it.

By the time you reach Miguel’s lab, you’re a bit fed up with everyone’s assumptions that Miguel won’t go. It’s frustrating how they feel so confident about it. As far as you know, Miguel doesn’t even know about the finalized plans considering Gabby’s birthday was only a few days ago and he spent the days prior to it thinking about it.

So, when you enter his lab, after letting Miguel know through Lyla that you’re outside, you walk in with that on your mind. Of course, coffee from the cafeteria couldn’t be forgotten, so you carry two cups. Your eyes soon spot Miguel on his platform as always. His back is to you while his hands move in different directions to shift screens around. Walking closer, your eyes take in his broad shoulders and back before they move upwards to his hair, specifically to the curls near his ears. You recall the times you helped him wash his hair and how soft it is, and even though you’re a few miles away from the penthouse, you can perfectly remember the scent of his shampoo as if you have the bottle in your hand right now.

Realizing where your thoughts have taken you, which you think is rather strange, you shake your head and focus on the beach trip again. At the same time, Miguel turns to face you with a grin.

“You know you don’t have to notify me when you arrive. I’ve told you many, many times that you can simply walk in,” Miguel says, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head playfully. “Will you always do that?”

Now it’s your turn to grin at him. You reach his platform, which is slightly elevated from the floor, and glance up at him. “I probably will,” you state. “If life treats us well, I’ll be sixty and still let you know through Lyla that I’m here.”

Miguel laughs, his chest vibrating because of it. Once again, you can’t stop yourself from finding his laugh beautiful nor from thinking that Miguel looks lovely laughing and being happy. You chuckle to yourself at the sight and sound, your chest fluttering with happiness because of Miguel’s laughter.

“And of course,” you continue with a smile. “I’ll always come with coffee from the cafeteria.”

Miguel grins once more and accepts the coffee cup when you offer it to him. “Gracias, gracias [thank you, thank you].” He brings the cup to his mouth and takes a small drink before glancing at you again. “You’ll be sixty and I’ll be almost seventy by then, huh?”

You nod. “Something like that.”

“Something like that,” Miguel repeats, offering a hand for you to get on the platform. You accept his hand covered by his suit with your own clad one and step on the platform. With you on the platform now, Miguel can’t help but still think about what you’ve said. That you’ll be sixty and still come see him to his lab when he’s almost seventy. He prays to God that you both live beyond that age; that you can be part of each other’s lives for many, many, many more years to make up for the twenty plus years you weren’t in each other’s lives.

Unaware of Miguel’s thoughts, you turn to look at one of the screens, which has gained your attention because of movement. Miguel watches as you bring the coffee cup to your lips, your eyes scanning the information. He wonders, if you both reach that age, and again, he prays to God that he grants that to you both, where will the two of you be in life. You both have a while before reaching those ages and anything could happen.

In so much time, you could both experience major life changes. Changes like you potentially finding a partner and having children, a thought that comes to Miguel now and grows.

Would you still come see him, even if you have a husband at home and grown children by then? Miguel realizes he’s thinking of himself still being here and for a second, he looks around his lab. Will he still be here in forty years? Or, will he have already retired fully and left the Spider Society, if it’s still running by then, to someone else? He thinks of Peter B. and Jess, of their kids one day walking through this building as official members, if that’s what they wish to do, and leaving all of this to them and the members of Miles’s age group.

Where will he be then? He wonders if he’ll still be living at the penthouse, or if the place will feel even bigger at that point, so much he’ll end up moving to a smaller place. Will he still travel through the multiverse and witness with his crimson eyes, which will remain the same even with age, dimensions so beautiful it leaves him in awe, or will that be a thing of the past and something he can only think fondly of?

Where will he be?

“Will you come with me?” you ask suddenly, looking at Miguel again. Your voice gently pulls him away from his thoughts.

“Yes,” Miguel replies instantly, not even knowing where you want to go, but his heart and body willing to go anywhere with you.

He sees the surprise on your face at his quick response followed by happiness.

“Really?” you ask, smiling at him with a twinkle in your eyes. “You actually want to go and spend the weekend at the beach?”

It finally clicks in Miguel’s mind. The beach weekend getaway Jess and Peter B. have been planning. He forgot all about it after approving it and letting both members plan as they pleased. Knowing what you’re referring to doesn’t deter Miguel, however.

“Yes,” Miguel says again, slowly smiling at you. “It sounds fun. If you - if you’re going to be there.”

“I wanted to ask you first,” you admit, still smiling. “Apparently, we’ll have a bungalow for ourselves.”

“Oh?” Miguel answers, smiling. “I remember Jess saying they’re quite spacious with big kitchens.”

“Ooh! I can buy some groceries, so we can cook. And bake,” you respond excitedly.

Miguel chuckles quietly, your excitement rubbing on him. “What do you want to cook while we’re there? We can go grocery shopping the day before to pick everything fresh,” Miguel suggests, remembering that mostly everyone will be traveling to the destination on Friday.

“What if for one morning we make your favorite…” you start while Miguel retrieves a piece of paper to create a grocery list, his thoughts about the future slipping away thanks to you.

♡

“Do we have everything?” you ask, looking over the bags. “Remember, we must treat it as if we can’t travel in seconds to retrieve things.”

“Yeah, Peter told me,” Miguel replies, rolling his eyes a bit, remembering Peter B.’s words that this needed to be treated like a ‘real vacation,’ which would mean no one will be able to return to their respective universes to get anything they forgot. Of course, if an emergency pops up, which Lyla will notify everyone about, that changes things. “I’ve checked and we have everything. Is your bag ready?”

You check your bag quickly before nodding. “Seems so. In any case, I’d still be able to come back.”

“True,” Miguel replies, grabbing all the bags, including yours, and holding them. “So…” he looks around the dining room, his crimson eyes making sure everything is in order before heading out. Satisfied, he continues. “Seems like everything’s in check. Should we head out now?”

“I’ve done my own rounds to make sure everything is okay, so I guess we’re good. The door is locked, we checked the fridge, the stove is off… I think we’re ready. Whenever you are,” you respond with a smile.

Miguel nods, holding all the bags. “I’m ready, if you are.”

With that, you both travel through a multidimensional portal you open and step out onto sand. Both Miguel and you immediately feel the change in temperature. It’s warmer, being outside, but there’s a breeze that hits nicely.

While the portal slowly closes behind you, Miguel and you glance around. You’re met with gawking eyes and some people straight up stop mid-sentence when they look your way. You smile subtly when you spot your friends, all standing up with looks of surprise. You can’t help but think that if Peter B. was in one of those cartoons from your childhood, his jaw would be hitting the ground right now. It seems everyone is shocked to see Miguel O’Hara.

Miguel, of course, notices the looks, too, but he decides to ignore them. For now. “Come on,” he says softly to you, motioning with his head for the two of you to walk.

As you walk, you look around again, ignoring the looks and instead focusing on how different everyone looks out of their suits and instead clad in relaxing attire, far more suitable for the beach.

“Ah - hey guys!” Peter B. greets you, finally finding it in himself to walk over and greet you. He looks between you and Miguel for a second, still finding it hard to believe that Miguel is here. You wouldn’t even be surprised if the man rubs his eyes to make sure he’s seeing right with the look on his face right now.

You flash him a grin. “Peter.”

“Peter,” Miguel says without a smile, still holding the bags without a concern on his face.

“I’m so glad you guys arrived! Wow…” Peter starts. He clears his throat. “Everyone’s here already, from our group, at least,” Peter clarifies, and then seeing the bags in Miguel’s hands, he remembers. “Your bungalow is ready. Let me show you which one is yours so you can settle in.”

You both thank him as Peter begins to lead the way, the two of you in tow. As you walk and get closer to a bungalow, you truly realize that you’ll be sharing the space with Miguel alone. You silently wonder what the other spider members will think of that. As far as either of you know, very few people know that you’ve been staying at Miguel’s penthouse. Some people did found out what happened to your apartment, but they have no idea where you’ve been living, just that you’ve been staying elsewhere and that you’re safe.

“So, basically, there’s bungalows of different sizes. It was worked out who was going to be at what bungalow the day you both left HQ early,” Peter says looking behind his shoulder.

Miguel and you share a glance, remembering this took place on Gabby’s birthday, so you both missed the entire bungalow arrangement.

“There’s bungalows for two people, so Jess and I decided to assign you to that one. I figured Miguel would prefer not being around others,” Peter jokes, earning himself a scoff from Miguel, even though he’s right.

Miguel glances at the bungalow, silently relieved about the arrangement. He was worried that you and him would have to share a space with some of the members who are not as organized as you both are. He was also worried about the peace and quiet. The two of you easily communicate with each other when one needs space or time alone, but with other people in the space, the peace and quiet would be minimal, if not nonexistent.

Among other reasons, there’s also the very real possibility that he might have a nightmare over the weekend. He hopes that’s not the case, but he can’t control them. With his luck, Miguel can see himself having one while sharing a space with other spider members and the last thing he needs is for people to speculate about that, and of course, there’s also his sleeping arrangement. Someone might’ve discovered that every night, he sleeps with your sweatshirt close to him and that a sound recording of you sleeping plays through his gizmo because he finds comfort in both things and they help him sleep.

“And, of course, we also thought it made sense since you guys… you know?” Peter says, looking at both Miguel and you, noticing the silence. Then again, other members are staring at the two of you like you’re celebrities. “Live together - due to the current arrangement,” Peter clarifies very quietly, reminding both Miguel and you that you’ll be returning to your apartment soon, that you’ll no longer be living at the penthouse.

Miguel sighs quietly at the reminder, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Right,” you reply, smiling softly. “We appreciate it, thank you, Peter.”

“Yes, we appreciate it,” Miguel adds, turning to look at some of the members staring at you both. He narrows his eyes even more, a silent way to get them to stop. Thankfully, those staring understand and look away instantly. Miguel huffs, hoping that they’ll stop because he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with their gawking, especially when he knows you’re not used to that. Miguel, on the other hand, has grown used to the stares and talk behind his back regarding his behavior and distance. He can’t bear you having to deal with the same thing, so he’ll do whatever he must to prevent it.

His thoughts are interrupted when Peter suddenly informs you both that there will be a bonfire tonight, food provided. He continues to bring it up, even while he gives you both a quick tour of the place, stating multiple times that he hopes you both show up.

After telling you once again about attending the bonfire, Peter heads out, letting Miguel and you get started on unpacking. You quickly focus on the groceries first so nothing goes bad before you decide which rooms you’ll each take for the stay. Once that’s settled, you both head to your rooms to unpack your duffel bags.

Finishing unpacking first, Miguel walks to your room while you continue setting up. He leans against the door frame, watching you unpack shampoo and the sort.

“It’s nice,” Miguel comments, looking around the bedroom, which is identical to his. “It’s very spacious and open, good for the trip. Jess and Peter made a great selection.”

“They did. I like the kitchen area, too. Sometimes that’s a little iffy, but it’s great,” you reply with a smile. “And the living room with the fireplace is lovely. I can already see myself sitting there at some point with a book.”

At that, Miguel grins because earlier when Peter was walking you both through the space, he had the same thought about you. He imagined you perfectly curled up on one of the couches, your favorite blanket, which you also brought along, spread out over you to keep your legs warm. He saw the fireplace roaring, a book in your hands, and a warm drink on the side table.

“Maybe tonight?” he suggests.

“I think so. I did bring this book I’ve been meaning to read,” you reply, smiling sheepishly now as you raise the book to show it to him. “It’s been sitting on my bookcase for too long, I’m afraid.”

Miguel chuckles. “Well, maybe it’ll finally be read. Based on the title, it seems like a great book to read while on a beach trip.”

“I think I might do that after we come back from the bonfire. Peter seemed really insistent on us going.”

“He did, didn’t he? He kept talking about it, over and over again,” Miguel says, raising an eyebrow in wonder. With Peter, that usually means there’s more to what he’s talking about. Miguel tries to figure out what that more is, but he can’t think of anything. He shrugs. “When he acts like that -”

“It means there’s more to it,” you finish, making Miguel grin.

“We know him too well,” he replies. “I can’t think of what it could be, though.”

“Me neither. We’ll have to wait until the evening to see what’s up with that. For now… I think I’m going on a walk. Do you want to come?”

“If you’ll have me,” Miguel says with a soft smile.

“Let me just change real quick,” you reply, picking up a top.

“I need to change, too, so take your time.” With that, Miguel steps into his own room to change.

In minutes, you leave your shared bungalow and begin to walk.

As you move past other spider people, you notice they’re still staring, but only for a few seconds before quickly averting their gazes. You glance at Miguel after noticing a Peter’s eyes widening while staring in your direction before rapidly looking away. Yet, when your eyes find Miguel’s face, he’s looking straight ahead with a neutral expression before he turns to look at you. He raises an eyebrow.

“What is it?” he asks, a small smirk forming on his lips.

“Hmm, nothing,” you reply, staring at him while trying to figure out why that Peter reacted that way. You hum to yourself and decide to forget it, focusing on the fact that you’re at the beach.

Meanwhile, Miguel smirks to himself, glad one look alone deters the others from looking at you both like specimens in a lab.

You both continue to walk in peace, your feet bare in the sand. At points, you stop to pick up sea shells, admiring and showing them to Miguel before placing them back. Miguel happily observes you, waiting for you when you stop to pick up one that looks interesting.

It’s not until your walk back to the main area that Miguel stops when a wave washes over the shore, leaving behind a few new seashells. He picks one up, wiping it clean from the sand before showing it to you.

“I’ve never seen one like that,” you say excitedly, noticing the checkered pattern over the seashell.

“It looks cool,” Miguel says before he hands it to you.

You raise an eyebrow as you accept it.

“For you,” Miguel says. “People always take little special souvenirs from their trips. I doubt we can find something like this in one of the shops.”

Smiling, you nod. “Yeah, that’s true. Thank you!”

“Always,” Miguel replies with a little grin as you both continue to walk back towards the group of people and the bungalows.

You look at the seashell, holding it carefully, one more time before gazing at Miguel, noticing his outfit. He’s wearing a white t-shirt with an open beige short-sleeve button up over it and black swimming trunks, even though he said he has no plans of swimming, but he looks comfortable. You notice his wrists then. One, as always, has his gizmo and it’s the one that’s been in use for years at HQ, not the one he’s hoping to launch soon.

On his other wrist, you spot two things. One is the bracelet you gifted him for Father’s Day with Gabriella’s name on it, a gift he’s been wearing ever since that day, and the other item is your hair tie. Miguel has also been wearing the hair time almost every day, though on some days he leaves it at the penthouse. You can only guess it’s so it doesn’t wear out because you’ve noticed him taking it off, along with the the gold bracelet, before washing dishes or his hands. He’s always so careful with both things, as if they’re priceless objects.

Seeing him wearing both items now and knowing how much he takes care of them brings you so much happiness. It makes you believe that they really mean that much to him.

Upon reaching the lot, you head back to your bungalow to wash your hands before going to the bonfire. By the point Miguel and you pull up, the sun has lowered significantly. You both quickly realize that when Peter talked about the bonfire, he meant multiple ones because when you arrive, there’s several bonfires set up across the beach by different groups.

Regardless of that, everyone seems to be in a great mood. Music from someone’s sound system is being played and it’s upbeat enough that it has some people dancing in place. The smell of food reaches your noses, stirring a hunger neither of you had sensed before.

Once you reach the food area, you grab two plates, one for Miguel and one for you before getting in line to fix yourselves a plate. While you wait, you look around, simply observing. It’s strange to see everyone dressed in relaxing attire instead of their usual superhero suits. Everyone seems so relaxed for once and the conversations taking place are lighthearted because you spot many smiles and hear laughter. You smile at the sight, glad that Miguel and you came, too, before turning back to look at him. Always the gentleman, he told you to go in front of him, so he’s behind you now.

You find him looking around the beach, taking notice of the lighthearted environment, too. He’s still dressed the same, except he took off his button-up and threw on a grey sweatshirt before you both left the bungalow just minutes ago.

With plates in hand, you eventually find yourselves sitting on a wood log around the bonfire with the spider gang. You all eat and talk, and as you look around at your little group of friends, you’re filled with gratitude. For three years, you were completely on your own, but not anymore. You smile a little, thinking about that, before a cool breeze hits you, making you shiver.

Noticing your reaction, Miguel wordlessly places his plate next to him and slips off the sweatshirt. Next thing you know, he’s offering it to you.

You shake your head. “I’m alright, thank you. You should put it back on,” you politely decline, not even making an attempt to accept it.

“I just saw you shiver,” Miguel insists. “Please, accept and put it on. I’m not even cold, I put it on just in case.”

“But-”

“No buts. You’re cold. Please,” Miguel continues, still holding the piece of clothing out to you.

You smile and nod gently before taking the sweatshirt. You easily slip it on, instantly feeling relief because it has Miguel’s warmth clinging to it. You sigh softly, basking in Miguel’s warmth. “Thank you. I should’ve brought one, but I forgot to.”

Miguel smiles, looking at you now wearing his sweatshirt. “Always. And no worries, I’m glad I brought mine. Now you won’t be so cold.”

You smile at each other before you look at his plate.

“Are you done eating? I think I’m going to get a snack.”

“I think I’m going to go for another burger,” Miguel replies. “I’m still kind of hungry.”

“Do you want me to get it for you?”

“No, no, that’s okay. Thank you, but don’t worry about it. I’ll get it myself,” Miguel says gently, thankful for your offer either way. “I’ll go with you if you’re going now, though.”

“We can go now,” you reply, nodding.

You both excuse yourselves before returning to the food area once more. Miguel heads for the burgers and you head to the snacks, confirming with each other to meet at the drinks. You both do your things, too preoccupied with the food to notice stares and the quiet chatter from members close by regarding two things.

One, Miguel O’Hara is wearing a woman’s hair tie around his wrist, and there’s no doubt it’s yours.

Two, you’re wearing his sweatshirt.

Neither of you notice it, though, and soon after, you meet up at the drinks section before returning to your group to finish eating. It’s an hour later of chatting and eating when Mary Jane and Peter, carrying Mayday, stand up to get the group’s attention.

Miguel and you share a look, remembering how you both guessed there was more to the bonfire than Peter was letting on when he kept talking about it earlier.

“So…” Peter starts with a grin. “I’m glad everyone seems to be enjoying the beach trip so far, which is all thanks to our boss, Miguel.”

At that, everyone turns their attention to Miguel.

“I hope you enjoy it, Miguel,” Peter says. “It’s really nice to see you attend one of these things at last. Whatever - or whoever - persuaded you, I’m glad it did,” he says, glancing at you for a second when he said ‘whoever.’

Next to you, Miguel nods. “It’s nice to be here. I hope everyone enjoys their time this weekend,” he says softly, receiving smiles, applause, and ‘thank you’s’.

“W boss,” Hobie adds from across you, sitting on a wood log as well. He gives you a wink when you turn to look at him, earning himself a grin from you.

“I hope so, too,” Peter says. “It’s a weekend to relax a bit! Mary Jane and I also wanted to take the opportunity to share something with you, our friends - our second family.” Peter turns to MJ, taking her hand in his while he holds Mayday in his other arm. “For a few months now, we’ve been keeping a little secret, but we were waiting due to precaution.”

“It’s been very hard keeping Peter from spilling the beans, but it’s finally okay, so we wanted to share with you that…” MJ trails off.

“We’re expecting!” Both Peter and MJ announce happily.

“Wow, another one?” Miles exclaims, surprised and yet happy.

Miguel and you turn to look at each other, equally surprised, before you join the rest of the group to congratulate the couple, waiting for your turns.

When it’s finally your turn, you hug Peter and Mayday by default since she’s being held by her dad before hugging MJ.

“Congrats, guys! I’m so happy for you,” you say when you step back, meaning it.

“Congrats, you two,” Miguel says with a small smile, standing a few feet away. “I hope everything goes well with the pregnancy.”

You nod at Miguel’s words. “Me, too. If you guys need anything, please let me know. I’d be more than happy to help with anything, like looking after this one,” you add, gently taking Mayday’s hand.

“Thank you, guys,” Peter says, grinning. “We’re so happy to be expanding our family.” Still grinning, Peter turns to you. ”We hope we don’t have to, but we appreciate your offer to babysit Mayday.”

“Truly, and I’m pretty sure this one would be more than happy about that, considering she loves you,” MJ adds with a smile.

“If you guys - Need someone to look after Mayday, I can also look after her,” Miguel suddenly says, catching everyone’s attention.

“You…?” Peter says slowly, shocked.

“Yeah,” Miguel simply replies.

“I… I think I’m going to cry,” Peter answers with a bit of a pout.

“Sorry, he’s been more emotional than usual,” MJ says.

“I’m not,” Peter says. “I’m just - Miguel - He - I can’t.”

“I know,” Miguel says with a nod, knowing why it’s somewhat of a big deal. He knows Peter and everyone else, judging by their expressions, is shocked because of his offer. They know that in the past, it’s been hard for him to be around children after losing his Gabby. Seeing Peter and Jess especially reminded him of the wonderful and beautiful experiences he didn’t have the opportunity to share with Gabby as a baby or toddler, nor the future experiences they’ll have with their kids growing older.

It was simply too much.

Now, though? Miguel feels somewhat better being around the little ones. It’s less difficult and painful than it was in the past and hearing your offer, for some reason, also encouraged him.

“I know,” Miguel repeats again. “But I mean it.”

“Thank you, Miguel,” MJ says smiling. “We appreciate the kind offer.”

“I could hug you right now,” Peter says suddenly.

“Please don’t,” Miguel replies.

“I won’t, but if I could, I would,” Peter responds. “Thank you for the offer. It means a lot, especially knowing… You know,” Peter says gently, not going into detail. “So, thank you.”

“Of course, glad to help,” Miguel says. “Again, congrats. I’m happy for you two, and Mayday,” Miguel adds, turning to look at her. He gives her a gentle smile. “I have a feeling she’s going to love having a sibling around.”

With those news, your group of friends continue to hang out. You talk with Peter and MJ about the pregnancy and learn that they’ve been debating expanding their family for a year and finally decided to go for it a few months ago.

A little while later, however, both Miguel and you decide to retire for the night, seeking tranquility and privacy. The two of you change into other clothes, noticing the former ones smelled like outside, before settling in the living room. Despite being in an entire different universe, you still stick to the usual night routine you’ve both had at Miguel’s penthouse.

And, the best part is Miguel’s vision from earlier becomes true when you settle on the couch after handing him a mug with a warm drink. You place yours on the side table, pull your favorite blanket over your legs, and pick up the book you’ve been meaning to read for a while.

Like every night, you eventually wish each other a good night before going to bed, but sleep doesn’t come right away for either of you. The sound of the ocean’s waves surges through the bungalow’s windows, filling your ears. From somewhere, you still hear music being played and laughter across the beach.

You toss and turn, kicking the covers off before pulling them back up again. As the minutes tick by, your thoughts inevitably turn to MJ’s pregnancy, to how they’ll have a second child now. It reminds you yet again of your Peter and his own hopes about having children. And of course, of your own, too. You sigh and turn again, closing your eyes and attempting to fall asleep until you eventually succeed.

In his own bedroom, Miguel does the same, switching from laying on his back to rolling on his side. He changes position again after several minutes, laying on his stomach. He pulls your sweatshirt closer to him, so he can still smell your calming and comforting scent, before pushing his arm under the pillow and staring at the wall. He can hear the ocean and the sound of music, but he doesn’t mind it. The noises serve as distractions.

His gaze shifts to the gizmo on the nightstand, still not playing the recording of your breathing. Not yet, but soon will.

Miguel sighs and closes his eyes, thinking about the news Peter and MJ revealed only two hours ago. He suspected that Peter had more than one reason for wanting you and him to attend the bonfire, but he’s going to be honest. It never crossed Miguel’s mind that the reason was a pregnancy reveal.

And now, Miguel can’t deny that he’s feeling — something. He’s genuinely happy for Peter and MJ, truly. In a multiverse of Peters and MJs who don’t always have a happy ending, Miguel is happy that Peter B. and MJ are an exemption. And there’s little Mayday, too.

Miguel smiles at the thought of the child. He can already imagine Mayday and this unborn child creating chaos at HQ with Peter running after them.

He’s happy for them, so happy.

Yet, there’s a feeling in his chest.

Acceptance.

Miguel realizes he’s accepted that he might not have the opportunity to form a family again; to have a wife and children. He might never experience true love in a romantic sense nor hear a child call him ‘daddy’ while running to his open arms again.

Miguel sighs, bringing your sweatshirt closer to his face to seek comfort from it in this moment of acceptance.

At last, he grabs his gizmo and begins the recording before getting comfortable again, your sweatshirt pressed to his chest.

He closes his eyes again, hoping for sleep now. As he finally begins to drift off, the last thought on his mind is that he has something equally special.

He has the spider gang.

And most importantly, he has you, his best friend.

♡

The next day, Miguel wakes up to the sound of you in the kitchen. He picks up his gizmo to check the time in this dimension, realizing it's 8:33 am. He quickly makes the bed and grabs his things before heading to the bathroom. In less than twenty minutes, Miguel showers, shaves his face, dresses, and brushes his teeth to start the day.

He puts away his belongings, making sure everything is organized as always before he meets you in the kitchen. Miguel finds you leaning against one of the kitchen counters, already dressed for the day, pouring coffee into some mugs.

Hearing his footsteps, you turn with a smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Miguel replies with a small smile of his own. He inhales gently, the lovely scent of coffee reaching him at last.

“Coffee?” you offer.

“Yes, please.” Miguel happily accepts the coffee mug, your fingers brushing in the process. He thanks you for it before he carefully takes a sip because it's hot, relishing the taste. “It's great to start the morning.”

“Right? I think I want to sit outside… To enjoy the coffee and the view of the ocean,” you share softly with a thoughtful expression.

“That sounds… nice, actually,” Miguel says after a few seconds of thinking. “Do you mind if I join you?”

You smile. “Your company is always welcomed.”

So you do exactly that. You carry your mugs and take post outside of your bungalow on the front steps. You enjoy your coffee in a comfortable silence, enjoying the sight. It's a calm morning with few people out despite the hour. Your guess is that most of the spider people stayed up too late and now, they're sleeping in.

You're glad for the temporary peace, however, because you know that in a short bit, the beach will be occupied like last night. So, for now, you enjoy the sound of the waves and flying seagulls; the short privilege of having the beach to yourselves; and best of all, the company of Miguel while you drink your coffees.

Inevitably, both Miguel and you recall the news from last night. The wood logs arranged in a circle with the remnants of the bonfire bring the memory, of MJ and Peter sharing with the spider gang that they’re expecting.

Miguel lowers his mug, holding it with both hands while he stares in the general direction of where you all were at last night. He remembers his thoughts from last night, too. His acceptance.

He clears his throat and lowers his face to look at the coffee, part of his reflection greeting him.

“You okay?” you ask softly next to him.

Miguel gazes up at you before nodding. “Yeah, I’m okay. I was just thinking this coffee is great. Thank you for making and sharing it,” he lies, instead of saying the truth because he’s not quite ready to speak about it right now.

“Always,” you reply, staring at Miguel intently. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” You slowly look away from him, knowing whatever is on Miguel’s mind is deeper than a great coffee. As always, however, you’ll respect his boundaries and wait for him to share what’s on his mind.

“How about a walk?” Miguel suddenly asks, pushing his thoughts aside and trying to focus on the now, with you.

“That sounds great.”

♡

After another peaceful walk, Miguel and you returned to your bungalow for breakfast. With the groceries you bought, paid by Miguel because he insisted, you both cooked Miguel’s favorite homemade breakfast: red chilaquiles [Mexican dish; I’ve explained what is it before (:].

You both spotted a stereo last night in the living room, so you had music as background noise while Miguel and you talked and cooked, splitting up tasks to work as a team. With just the two of you, the bungalow was filled with comforting scents, sounds, and conversation. It was a blissful and peaceful moment with the sun’s rays sneaking through the windows and the constant sound of the gentle popping of hot oil that Miguel used to fry the triangular tortilla chips. Unknowingly, your cooking left your bungalow and the scent ended up attracting some of your friends, so they showed up, asking what those ‘wonderful scents’ were.

Neither Miguel nor you were expecting them, but you didn’t decline them either. So, the small dining area filled up with ten extra people, all eagerly talking and having a bite.

Now, it’s midday. Today is the first full day at the beach and it seems that everyone is trying to enjoy it as much as possible. Music, just like last night, is being played. There’s cheering and clapping from a volleyball game taking place since someone set up a volleyball net. Some people have decided to have an early lunch, so they’re cooking by using the public areas. Other people are playing Frisbee, out swimming, or walking along the shore. Then, there’s people like Miguel and you, sitting on a large beach towel with an umbrella over you, entertaining the little ones.

Even though you have plenty of space, Miguel and you have very few items with you. There’s a small cooler with refreshing and hydrating drinks. Your book, a bottle of sunscreen, and a pair of sunglasses rest on one of your sides while Miguel sits on the other.

He sits comfortably, leaning back on his arms. He’s wearing the same variation of clothing as yesterday: a t-shirt, a short-sleeve button-up, and swimming trunks.

Despite all the distractions on the beach right now, Miguel’s eyes are trained on Mayday, Gerald, and you. He watches as you play with them, how you make them giggle with your play pretend noises and by moving toys around with them. He smirks softly when he hears you make a helicopter noise, or at least, attempt to.

“Help is on the way,” you say urgently, moving the helicopter past Jess and Peter’s respective children. “There’s hope, we’ll defeat the bad guys.” You laugh softly when Gerald tries to grab the helicopter from your hand, intrigued by it. “Oh-oh, Gerald is trying to take over the cockpit. Mayday,” you say, turning to look at her. “Should we give Gerald permission?”

“Yeah!” Mayday exclaims happily.

“Alright, I think so, too. He’s a great pilot, after all,” you continue, making a whooshing noise and moving the toy close to Gerald, letting him take it. “We’re now in the hands of Gerry.” Miguel and you both watch as Gerry moves the helicopter toy through the air before he drops it on the beach towel. “Anddddd, now we’re….” you trail off.

Miguel snorts playfully next to you, catching your attention. You turn to him with a grin.

“Now you’re what?” he says.

“We’re… experiencing a few bruises,” you reply.

Miguel chuckles, moving closer to lift the helicopter toy up. The toy is already small to begin with, but in Miguel’s hand, it looks miniature. “It was just a rough landing, right, mijo [my son]?” he asks softly with a grin, handing the toy back to Gerry. “He’s a great pilot as you said, but sometimes the nerves get to us during missions. That’s all.” After handing the toy to Gerry, Miguel gently guides it, leading it to the ground until it touches base. “And, the crew is okay. Safe and sound.”

You can’t help but smile at the sight, finding it sweet how Miguel gently plays with Gerry for those short seconds before he withdraws his hand and leaves the helicopter to Gerry. He raises it and begins to play with it again while Mayday picks up her own action figures and joins him, lost in their own little world of innocence.

Miguel watches them with a soft gaze while you watch him with a similar one.

Slowly, you turn away from him to keep an extra eye on the kids. Earlier, you offered both sets of parents to babysit them for an hour or two because you enjoy doing so. However, you didn’t know you were going to see Miguel in his fatherly element, even if just for a few seconds.

You smile to yourself, thinking about how gentle he is with children and how soft spoken he talked to Gerry, even calling him ‘mijo.’

The moment stays in your mind from that moment on until you notice that the kids are growing sleepy, so Miguel and you move things around to make space for them between you. You help them fall asleep by gently talking to them and caressing their small backs.

Once they fall asleep, you place them down on the beach towel so they can properly rest and stretch.

Of course, Miguel watches and helps as much as he can to make sure the children are comfortable and safe. You both keep an eye on them while they sleep, talking to each other before you fall into a comfortable silence. Resting on your side with your head propped up with your arm, you decide to read your book for a bit and Miguel turns to look at the volleyball game, somewhat entertained by it.

He turns your way a few minutes later to tell you something about a particular move, but he finds you asleep. He spots the abandoned book on the beach towel before his gaze sweeps over you, still laying on your side, but now with your arm over both children’s tummies. He smiles softly at the sight of the three of you sleeping, finding it adorable.

His gaze moves over the children’s faces for a few seconds before returning to yours, noticing the gentle and relaxed look on your faces. He looks down at your arm over their little bodies. It seems that even in your sleep, you’re keeping them safe.

The sight makes him think about something once more. He’s wondered about it in the past before, several times to be honest, and now the sight of you with the children and how natural you’re with them, brings that thought back — you, as a mother.

He wonders if Peter and you ever talked about that. If starting a family was something that you both wished for, but didn’t get the chance to make a reality due to Peter’s passing. He’s never asked you out of respect, especially because it’s something so personal, and it felt too soon to ask before.

He hums to himself, thinking about that for a few minutes before he realizes he’s been staring at you for too long. Miguel looks away, still keeping guard over the three of you while everyone else does their thing. He spots the volleyball players still going strong, but at this point he’s not really interested in it as he was before, so he turns his attention to the ocean instead.

Gazing at the water, he tries to remember the last time he went on vacation. It was so, so many years ago with Gabriel when they went to Mexico and had the opportunity to spend a Día de los Muertos [Day of the Dead] there. It was a fun vacation and they had the opportunity to learn more about their culture as young adults. Miguel smiles to himself now, remembering one night specifically when it was near midnight. They were both hungry and ended up leaving the small, but beautiful place they had rented for their vacation to eat tacos from a taqueria [taco place] that was still open that late at night. They ended up staying up much later, just talking and talking about the places they had seen already. It was also a nice escape from Conchata since his relationship with his mother was still strained.

Miguel sighs softly at the thought, moving his gaze to the empty spot in front of the large beach towel you’re all on.

If Gabriel was alive, he’d be here along with Gabriella. He knows that for sure.

They’d be here now, probably hanging out on the very spot his eyes are on. For a moment, Miguel imagines it. He sees Gabriel and Gabriella building a sand castle together, laughing when a tower falls apart. He can hear Gabriel call Gabby ‘mija’ [my daughter] and Gabby calling him ‘tío.’ You enter the picture and take a seat next to them, helping them continue to build the castle. Both Gabriel and Gabby are more than pleased that you’ve joined them, it seems. Gabby even pats your arm and excitedly shows you their progress so far.

You look up at him then, and smiling, beckon him to join.

Miguel blinks, the vision fading away. The spot on the beach in front of him remains the same, empty. He shakes his head. Maybe in another life. Or, another universe.

He only has a few seconds to bring himself back to the present when he senses something. He quickly looks around and spots the volleyball hurling your way and the kids’. In seconds, Miguel is at your other side with his arm out. He catches the ball effortlessly, eyes narrowing in displeasure and annoyance. Without looking at it, Miguel feels the ball deflate thanks to his talons instinctively protracting to protect the three of you.

He turns to the group of spider members playing, noticing their looks of disappointment when they notice that their ball is now ruined. However, their expressions changed when they take notice of Miguel’s own expression.

“Be more careful,” Miguel says before throwing the ruined ball back.

Someone catches it before the entire group moves further away with their net and now ruined ball thanks to the Spider Society’s leader making it clear he isn’t pleased with what almost happened.

Less worried now, Miguel settles down again and looks at all three of you to make sure you’re okay. Thankfully, you’re all still sleeping peacefully.

He huffs softly at the group, still feeling displeased just as Peter B. rushes over. He glances at the group, noticing that they’re trying to fix the ruined ball with someone’s webs now.

“I just saw that. Thankfully you noticed before the ball hit one of them,” Peter says, moving closer to look over the three of you.

“Me, too. Probably one of them trying to show off, or something,” Miguel grumbles. “But they’re okay. They’re sleeping peacefully.”

“I can see that. They seem to be having a great nap,” Peter says with a grin, still looking at the sleeping children and you. He looks around the beach before continuing. “MJ and I are about to head back to the bungalow, so I’ll go ahead and take Mayday.”

Miguel nods at that, understanding. “Go ahead. I’ll let Dulzura know.”

Peter nods, moving closer. He’s about to reach for your hand when you wake up suddenly, sleepily looking around and trying to gather your surroundings.

“Hey,” you say softly, your voice sleepy.

“Hey,” Miguel replies gently, looking at your sleepy expression. “Enjoyed your nap?”

“Mhm, I did.” You withdraw your arm and look at the children, still sleeping. “You here for Mayday?” you ask Peter.

“Yeah. I’m sorry for waking you up,” Peter apologizes.

“No worries,” you reply as Peter picks Mayday up. “She was, as always, a good kid.”

Peter grins at that. “Thank you. For that and looking after her. You didn’t have to.”

“It was my pleasure, really,” you respond, starting to gather Mayday’s toys with Miguel’s help.

With everything packed, Peter thanks you again before he says goodbye, leaving Miguel, little Gerald, and you.

You sigh softly and lay down on your side again, looking at Jess’s child with such tenderness before you gently cup his face, smiling.

“They’re so cute,” you murmur. “So sweet and innocent. So beautiful.”

Miguel nods, his thoughts from earlier coming back due to your tender behavior and words. And suddenly, he thinks about what a wonderful mother you’d make.

“They are, aren’t they?” he says softly before turning to look at Gerald, still peacefully asleep. He almost wants to reach over and gently caress the child himself, taking notice of the gentle rise and fall of his chest, but he holds back from doing so, especially when he hears Jess’s voice from behind.

She steps into his vision a second later with her husband behind. You greet each other before you ask how their walk was, knowing Jess and her husband are here for their child now.

“How was he?” Jess asks after telling you about their walk with a smile, gazing at her sleeping child.

“He was wonderful,” you say. “Right, Miguel?”

“Yeah, he was great. Not fussy at all. He seemed to enjoyed playing with Mayday, too,” Miguel shares. “Dulzura made him into a helicopter pilot. He did pretty well, didn’t he?” Miguel asks you.

You grin, nodding. “He had a rough landing at one point, but the crew made it. Safe and sound.”

Miguel grins softly back at you when you say that.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Jess says, both her and her husband chuckling. She looks between the two of you, having a feeling that there’s some inside joke not meant for her and her husband.

“Here, let me help you pick up the toys,” Miguel offers to Jess’s husband, standing up.

Meanwhile, you gently pick up Gerald to avoid waking him up. You hold him for a few seconds before handing him over to Jess. Once she’s holding him, you stand up and stretch. You take notice of Miguel and Jess’s husband picking up the toys in a backpack, talking quietly, as you pop your back.

“How did you do it?” Jess quietly asks suddenly, cradling Gerald.

“Do what?” you ask, confused.

“How did you get him to come?” she clarifies, gesturing to Miguel.

“I just asked him.”

“You just asked him if he wanted to come to the beach?”

“I asked him, and I quote, ’will you come with me?,’ and he said yes.”

“To the beach. You asked if he would come with you to the beach?”

“Actually… I didn’t even specify where to, but he said yes,” you respond with a smile.

“He didn’t even know where he was going, but he said yes,” Jess says in disbelief just as Miguel reaches your side again.

“We’ve collected all of Gerry’s toys,” her husband says, reaching her side as well.

Jess nods, still wanting to talk with you about the fact that Miguel actually came to the beach, but there’s no time now. “We’re going to head back to our place. Thank you for looking after Gerry. We appreciate it so much,” Jess says looking at you and then at Miguel because she suspects that he helped.

“Happy to,” Miguel and you say at the same time.

Jess’s husband looks surprised while Jess grins. “Alright, you two enjoy your time.”

You say goodbye, watching the family walk away towards their bungalow.

After a few seconds, Miguel turns to you. “You hungry?” he asks.

“Actually,” you start, tilting your head. “I am.”

“We can head back to the bungalow then. I’ll cook,” Miguel says as he starts gathering your belongings.

You grin and begin to clean up as well, picking up the towel and folding it after shaking off as much sand as you could. On your way back to the bungalow, the two of you run into none other than Ben Reilly. The sight of him immediately reminds you of the day, Gabriella’s birthday to be exact, he wanted to speak with you. You told Ben you’d speak with him later that day because you were in a rush to see Miguel, but you forgot and went home with Miguel for the rest of the day.

“Ben,” Miguel simply greets him, standing next to you.

“Hi, Ben!” you say, offering him a small smile.

“Hey, guys,” Ben replies, looking between you and Miguel. His gaze lingers on you for a little longer.

“I just remembered that you wanted to talk to me the other day,” you start with an apologetic tone. “I forgot to meet you like I said. I’m so sorry.”

Miguel’s eyes shift to you for a second, curious about the situation.

“That’s - that’s okay,” Ben responds, standing shirtless with an incredible posture as always. He glances at Miguel and then back at you.

“So… What did you want to talk about?” you ask.

“It was nothing,” Ben quickly responds, scratching his neck. “Just… A question about a report, but I asked another colleague and I figured it out. Thank you, though.”

Smiling, you nod. You’re relieved that someone helped him. “That’s good. I’m glad you were able to figure it out. If you ever need help, let me know.”

“Thanks, I will,” he replies, a smile slowly forming on his lips. “You’re too - too kind.”

You hum. “I’m just trying to help a colleague out,” you reply cheerfully.

“Right,” Ben says chuckling lightly and looking away. “Just helping a colleague out.”

“Well, we’re going to get going. I hope you’re having fun and enjoying the trip,” you say, ready to head back to your bungalow.

Ben nods, turning to face Miguel and you again. “Thanks, you, too. See you guys around.”

Miguel, who has silently been listening and observing the exchange, hums in response. You, on the other hand, give Ben one last ‘goodbye’ before Miguel and you continue on your way.

Heading to the bungalow, Miguel glances over at you. “So, you got colleagues asking you for help with reports?” he asks.

You chuckle softly. “If I had known that’s all he needed that day, I might have given him a quick solution, but if I remember correctly, all he said was if we could talk about something,” you explain as you begin climb up the steps now.

“Oh,” Miguel simply says, following after you. “Maybe he was all caught up with the issue, he forgot to mention it was about a report.”

“That could be it,” you reply while you unlock the door.

Miguel hums, thinking about how Ben Reilly has been doing reports for years now. As he closes and locks the door, Miguel can’t help but think it’s strange that of all people, he’d be the one asking for help regarding that task. The thought ends there, however, when you call his name from the kitchen. And Miguel, all too eager to join you, lets the thought wash away.

♡

After having a meal, cooked by Miguel, the two of you find yourselves in the living room doing a puzzle together. It was decided that you both wanted a little break indoors after spending the morning and part of the afternoon outside.

So, with music playing from the stereo once more, you both sit on opposite sides of the coffee table with puzzle pieces spread out in front of you.

“I’m glad you spotted the puzzle,” you say softly with a grin. “I forgot how fun they can be.”

“Yeah?” Miguel asks. “Did you use to do them in the past?”

“Yes. Sometimes with my parents, other times alone. I liked the challenge,” you share.

Miguel chuckles. “I can see that,” he says because he’s noticed how focused you are. He looks up slowly, finding you test two pieces together but not fitting. As he turns to look back at his own progress, his mind is flooded with thoughts. He guesses now that you’re both alone and without so many distractions around, his mind is unable to not reflect on the last hours or so since you both arrived to the beach.

He thinks about MJ and Peter having another baby, about you with the children earlier, and whether you and your Peter ever talked about children.

He tries to push the thoughts away and focus on the puzzle like you, but half an hour later and with half of the puzzle completed, Miguel picks up a piece and decides to ask you, or at least try to.

“May I ask you a question?”

Attaching two pieces together, you look up at Miguel, curious about what he wants to ask. “Of course. What is it?”

“It’s…” Miguel trails off. “It’s personal. Please know that you don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable, okay? I’ll understand.”

You nod, lowering the puzzle pieces.

“Earlier - Well, I’ve noticed it before, too, but earlier with the children… I’ve noticed how gentle you are with them. So tender. You seem so natural with them,” Miguel starts. “With Peter and MJ’s pregnancy announcement and seeing you with the children, well, I couldn’t help but wonder about you and,” Miguel pauses to see your reaction. His eyes search your face, trying to see any negative emotion on it to know if he needs to stop all together. The last thing Miguel wants is to cause you any discomfort or distress by bringing this topic up.

“Peter,” you finish, figuring out what Miguel has on his mind. You smile a bit. “It’s okay. You can ask me anything. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

Miguel searches your face once more, trying to find even an ounce of discomfort to make sure. After finding none, he proceeds. “Let me know if I need to keep my mouth shut at any moment. Please.” You nod at him again, encouraging him to go on, so he does. “I was wondering if… Did Peter and you ever think about… About having children?” Miguel asks gently.

Picking up another piece to inspect, you nod. “Yes. We did. Peter wanted to be a father,” you share, looking up at Miguel. “I was scared, to be honest. Childbirth sounds a little scary to me and of course, having a child is such a big responsibility. You - You know,” you state gently, knowing that out of the two, Miguel likely understands that better than you. “So, I wanted to make sure we were suitable for it, too. I guess I had some fears, in a way. I didn’t want to end up pregnant and alone.” You shake your head at yourself. “I don’t know why I was even worried about that. Peter would’ve never left me. He wasn’t that kind of man.”

You pause and try two pieces, fitting correctly. “Sometimes we’d talk about how many. There was one night when we laid in bed, snuggling,” you say softly, reminiscing on that night like it was just yesterday, even though it was over five years ago. “We talked about moving out of the apartment to another one, a bigger one. There was, is because it’s still standing, a place that we both liked a lot. It was a little too expensive for us at that point, so that was, kind of our next goal, I guess.” You sigh. “I always told him one day I hoped to have a small home library, so that night, he talked about how that place would be great because they’re so much more spacious. Those apartments have three bedrooms, so, he said one for us and the other two for… two children.” You smile. “He hoped for two children, I think.”

You gaze down at the puzzle and shift around some pieces. “So… yes, we did. To be honest… I think… I like to think he was going to propose soon, that year he passed away. I don’t know why, but now that I think about it, I think he was. And I like to think we would’ve tried to enjoy a few years of our marriage before starting to try for kids. Maybe two years or so,” you continue, slowly looking up at Miguel. “But of course… that’s just a guess, and one I’ll never be able to confirm.”

“Dulzura,” Miguel whispers softly,

“It’s okay,” you whisper back, nodding. “It’s okay, really. I just - I just wish Peter would’ve been able to accomplish more of his dreams and goals, you know? I wish I could’ve seen him being a father to his own children. I know he would’ve been a wonderful father. He would’ve loved his children, no matter what.”

“From everything you’ve told me, Peter sounds like a wonderful man. So… I have no doubt he would’ve been a great husband and father,” Miguel says, holding your gaze.

“Thank you,” you reply gently, smiling. “That means a lot to me.”

“And… And I think you would’ve been a wonderful mother, dulzura,” Miguel adds softly and then because he realizes that his words sound like you can’t anymore, as if you no longer have that opportunity, he tries to correct himself. “Still could be if you - you know -” Miguel sighs and scratches his neck. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think you can’t anymore with my first sentence. You still can, of course, if you wish to. I just think - you would be a wonderful mom,” he states, hoping he hasn’t offended you.

Shaking your head gently, you smile. “Don't apologize, I know what you're saying, and… Thank you. That's very kind of you. It also means a lot to me.” You hum softly as you piece two small portions of the puzzle together, still thinking about the topic.

Miguel does the same, unable to stop himself from grieving for you and the life you once thought you'd have with Peter at your side. He silently wonders if it's something you're still open to, with someone else.

“You know,” you start, almost as if you can read his mind. “I think, if life gives me a second chance — at love, I mean — I would be open to it.” You pick up a piece and inspect it. “To having children, too. If he's open to it, of course.”

At that, Miguel looks at you, happy to hear that you're still open to it; to a second chance at love and potentially having children. He smiles at the thought of you becoming a mother and for some reason, at that moment, imagines you with children of your own. Three, or maybe even four.

“What about… you?” you ask softly, feeling comfortable to ask Miguel since he’s asked you. Still, your tone is gentle. “You don’t have to answer, if you don’t want to.”

Miguel hums, feeling it’s only normal for you to ask now that he’s opened the discussion. Plus, neither of you have ever talked about it, so he supposes that just like he’s been curious about you, so have you about him.

“Last night, after MJ and Peter’s announcement… I felt something. ” Miguel pauses, trying to gather his thoughts as he searches for a piece. “Acceptance,” Miguel confesses. “I felt happiness — still do, and I mean it, but I also felt acceptance. I’m okay with not experiencing what you’re open to,” Miguel says, referring to love and starting a family of his own. “So…”

“But that’s not the same,” you reply gently, staring at him. “I’ve also accepted that perhaps I’ll never fall in love again and marry nor start a family, but I’m still open to the possibility.”

Miguel sighs, realizing you’re right. It’s not the same thing.

“Dulzura,” Miguel says with a gentle chuckle. “You’re making me think here.”

You grin at him and lean a little over the coffee table with a playful expression on your face. “I’m glad I’m making you think.”

Miguel smiles softly and while staring at you, he can’t help but be surprised at himself for how well he’s taking this conversation. He’s even chuckling! He silently wonders how the Miguel from two years ago would react to this conversation and suddenly, a rush of sadness washes over him when Miguel realizes he wouldn’t even be here now, let alone be having this conversation with you. His past self would be at the lab right now, aware that most of the society’s members are off in another dimension having a getaway beach trip. He’d spend the entire day there, despite it being the weekend, in the dark lab with his marigold-colored screens surrounding him. The only voice he’d be hearing the entire weekend would be Lyla’s, letting him know how everyone is having fun while he’s working.

Miguel’s smile falters at the thoughts, just for a few seconds, before he smiles at you again, more tenderly. “Gracias [thank you],” he says suddenly, quietly. “Thank you so much.”

Confused, you tilt your head to the side. “For what?”

Still smiling at you tenderly, Miguel continues. “For inviting me this weekend. And for everything else, too. I’d be here the entire night, thanking you for everything if I could, but I’d exhaust your ears and probably say ‘thank you’ so much, the words would start to feel unreal and incorrect from how much I’m saying them, but thank you, dulzura.” Miguel pauses, deciding to share his thoughts. “I just thought about how… I wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for you.”

You stare intently at him, moving your head to deny it, but Miguel continues.

“It’s the truth.” Miguel states firmly, his eyebrows furrowing as he thinks more about it. “I was thinking I’d be at the lab right now instead of being here, but I’m remembering there might have been a chance… That I wouldn’t even be there. I’d be gone,” Miguel continues. “I could’ve passed away that rainy night you found me bleeding and half gone on that rooftop. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would’ve... And I’m thankful to be here. Alive and here with everyone. With you. So, thank you,” he adds softly. “Thank you for everything.”

You give him a warm and sweet smile, both touched by his words and relieved that Miguel is here with you, alive. “I’m thankful you’re here, both alive and on this trip,” you reply tenderly. “Safe and sound with us. With me.”

You smile at each other before Miguel grins. “And going back to what we were talking about… you’re right,” he admits. “It’s not the same thing and I suppose that I, well, I think… Never say never?” he says, sounding more like a question.

“Anything could happen,” you remind him.

“Right,” Miguel answers, still grinning. “I guess, it could happen.”

“So, you’re…?”

“I’m okay if it doesn’t happen. I’ve accepted it,” Miguel says, nodding more to himself before he gazes at the puzzle pieces in front of him. He silently wonders. What if? What if, somehow at some point in the future, something happens? He thinks back to yesterday when he was wondering where he’d be at seventy. He was feeling somewhat negative about it, imagining himself potentially still working at the lab, or retired and living in a smaller apartment because it’s just him. Miguel wondered if you’d still see him, even with the possibility of you finding a romantic partner and bearing children. Now, though, he wonders about a what if. What if his life wasn’t like that and instead, he had someone?

Someone to hold at night — to love. That alone would make Miguel feel happiness in a different way, he thinks, even if there were no children from that love. Simply being able to experience that kind of love would be a privilege to him.

Would he be open to that possibility if it came knocking at his door, then? Miguel questions himself before he slowly looks up at you, finding you already gazing at him. Staring back at you, the answer, for some reason, rolls off his mouth just as natural as it is to breathe. “I’m open to it,” Miguel finally says.

You smile at him, his answer bringing you happiness. “I’m happy to hear that,” you reply, your gaze soft. “You - you deserve to be happy, Miguel.”

Still smiling, Miguel tilts his head. “Who says I’m not happy already?”

Now you tilt your head, curious.

“I could be happy in a different way if I experience those things, but even if I don’t… I’m already happy. Happier than I was in the past,” Miguel confesses, thinking back to the days he was so lonely before Gabriella was in his life, after Gabriel and his mother had passed away. He was a lonely man, moving through life like a lost soul. “Despite my family being gone, I’m happy. I wish Gabriel and Gabby were here, so much, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel happiness. I do and it’s - well, it’s because of,” Miguel pauses and scratches his neck, suddenly feeling a little shy. “You.”

Once more, Miguel’s words bring a smile to your sweet face, one he takes notice of. “I’m touched, Migs,” you say gently, smiling. “And I’m glad that you’re happy. I just want you to - to be happy and -” you turn away, feeling a little emotional. “Sorry, I think - I think my period is close, maybe that’s why I’m growing emotional.” You gulp the little knot in your throat forming, feeling your eyes tear up. “I just want you to be happy because - I care about you. A lot.”

And God, seeing your pretty eyes tear up pulls at Miguel’s heartstrings. He reaches with his hand across the coffee table, forgetting the puzzle in the moment. “No llores [don’t cry],” Miguel whispers, delicately. “I know you do. I’ve known it all this time because I feel it,” Miguel continues, brushing his index finger over yours. “And I… I care about you, too, you know?” He’s tempted to say that at this point, he cares more about you than he does about himself, but maybe that’s too much to reveal, even now. Besides, he has a feeling that those words would only encourage those eyes gazing at him right now to tear up more, and Miguel, well, Miguel cannot stand the sight of your tears, even if they’re ‘happy’ ones as you once told him several months ago on New Year’s Eve.

You smile and dry your eyes with the back of your free hand, still feeling emotional. “I know you do. I can feel it, too,” you reply with a nod, feeling Miguel’s finger rest on top of yours. It’s simple and small, but it’s meaningful nonetheless. Another small step for Miguel. You sniffle before chuckling, noticing Miguel’s gentle smile. “Alright, let’s finish this puzzle because I refuse to leave without finishing it.”

At that, Miguel grins in amusement. He taps your finger gently before withdrawing. “I have this part completed, but I can’t find this little piece right here,” he says, grabbing the box to show you which part of the image he’s missing.

“I have it,” you reply before you move the part you’ve been working on closer to the middle.

Miguel observes the pieces, immediately spotting it, so he moves his part closer, too. You both glide the parts until the adjacent parts are lined up before attaching them, fitting perfectly.

“Well, that part is done at least,” you say. “Only about two hundred more pieces to go now.”

“Thankfully, we have the rest of the afternoon and tomorrow to finish it,” Miguel replies as he looks at the joined pieces now. The image is slowly coming together and to be honest, he’s looking forward to the satisfaction of seeing it completed, even if it’ll have to be undone at the end for the next guests. Either way, Miguel is excited to see the completed image of two butterflies in a meadow as shown on the puzzle’s box.

“Mmm, I think it will be done this evening,” you playfully say.

“This evening, then,” Miguel replies, smiling. Then, remembering something, he continues. “I forgot to tell you, but I ordered something for the trip. Hammocks. If you’re interested in using one, I can hang them up near the bungalow.”

“Ooh, you got hammocks? That’s nice! Maybe, if we’re done soon, we can watch the sunset from them. And rest our backs after being hunched over this puzzle,” you say, chuckling.

“Sounds like a plan,” Miguel responds. “As soon as we’re done, I’ll set them up.”

Some hours later with bathroom and snack breaks and then dinner, Miguel and you finish the puzzle. You place the last piece, completing it and earning yourself a cheer from Miguel.

“It’s been completed, at last. Picture for evidence,” Miguel says with a grin before pulling out his cell phone, a far more advanced one than you’re used to.

You laugh softly, watching Miguel navigate his phone before lifting his phone to take the picture. A second later, you hear the camera sound go off.

“There,” Miguel says, still grinning. He looks at the captured photo, not only including the puzzle, but you as well. In fact, you’re the focus of the photo and it’s now saved to his gallery.

You lean back, stretching and humming. “That took us a moment.”

“It did,” Miguel replies, placing his phone down. He leans backwards to rest his back. “Hammocks?”

You nod with a smile. “Hammocks. While you set up, I’m going to make something for us.”

“Coffee…?”

“Am I that predictable?” you ask, laughing.

“I know you,” Miguel responds, his tone playful. “So it is coffee?”

“Yes.”

Miguel chuckles and stands up, popping his back. He offers a hand to help you up and without thinking, you take it and stand up, too.

“Let me get started on it.”

“I’ll set up the hammocks,” Miguel replies, heading for his bedroom.

Fifteen minutes later, the hammocks are set up. You have a thermos with freshly made coffee at your side while Miguel and you watch the sunset at the beach. Fellow colleagues join to watch from their own spots with their own groups of friends or on their own to appreciate the beautiful sight in solitude.

Even when the sun sets and more people have stepped out of their bungalows for small gatherings with bonfires, Miguel and you stay on your hammocks.

With your hammock above Miguel’s and on your stomach, you now stare at the moon and ocean, noticing the moon’s pretty color reflected on the water. You find yourself thinking that it looks like a river straight to the moon — a moon river.

You glance down at Miguel, finding him also staring at the moon on his back. His face is relaxed and he seems at peace. Your eyes reach his, noticing the way his crimson eyes stand out thanks to the moonlight, like two rubies in the night. You smile softly and lean down, returning your gaze to the night’s protagonist.

After a few minutes of enjoyable silence, you hum when you think about the conversation you both had regarding children. You think about the children you could’ve had by now if Peter was alive, knowing they’ll never exist now.

“Do you think there’s a place where the children we were meant to have, but didn’t, reside in?” you whisper, gaining Miguel’s attention.

He bites the inside of his cheek, pondering your question. Your gentle whisper tugs at his heartstrings not only due to the nature of your question, but also because of the way you’ve asked it in a whisper. It’s as if you don’t wish to share this with anyone but him, not even with the beautiful moon.

Miguel clears his throat softly. “I like to think so,” he whispers back, wanting to comfort you with his answer. He knows there’s still a possibility that you might have kids in the near future. One never knows. Yet, he knows you’re not referring to the scenario of someone who has given up on the idea of having kids. No, you’re referring to the kids you once thought about having with your Peter, the ones that no matter how much you wish for, will never exist. At least, not in your universe.

Maybe in undiscovered universes they exist already. And perhaps, with time, a version of you and your Peter will pop up in the universes already in the system, even if it’s decades from now. Maybe those versions will meet and have children, but Miguel knows it’s not the same. No matter if other versions exist out there in the multiverse now or in the future, you and your Peter will never be able to experience parenthood together, just versions of you.

“Perhaps there’s a place,” Miguel continues. “A beautiful and happy place from where they live and watch over us.” He pauses, remembering something. “There’s a song… One of the lyrics is, ‘en Saturno, viven los hijos que nunca tuvimos.’ In Saturn, live the children we never had.”

You glance down at Miguel again, meeting his gaze. You give him a smile, seemingly satisfied with his answer.

“In Saturn, live the children we never had…” you whisper, thinking about the giant gas planet with its unique ring and moon systems. “That’s pretty.”

Miguel nods, smiling back at you while feeling glad that he’s given you some comfort. His smile widens when you offer him the thermos with coffee. He takes a drink from it before returning it to you, watching you take a drink yourself.

You both turn to the moon again before Miguel breaks the silence once more. “You know… In all the time you’ve been staying at Nueva York, I haven’t taken you to see the moon in my dimension. Would you like to see it?” he asks in a whisper.

You chuckle as you turn to look at him and nod. “Are you kidding me? I’ll be on the moon! Of course, I’d love to see it,” you reply, smiling.

“I’ll take you to see it,” Miguel responds with a smile of his own. “However many times you want to.”

“Deal,” you whisper before laying down with your head sticking out from the hammock to look at Miguel. You sigh softly, feeling at peace in a way you haven’t in a while. Maybe it’s that same feeling that leads to your hanging arm over the hammock. You play it off as simply letting it down, but in reality, you long for physical contact from your best friend.

Your best friend smiles, somehow knowing.

So, Miguel lifts his arm and gently curls his pinky finger around yours — so gently — his touch betrays how dear you are to his heart.

Miguel’s pinky finger squeezes yours reassuringly, his warmth combining with yours. He watches you tenderly, you, the most precious and priceless soul to exist, at least to him, in the entire multiverse.

Previous ⋅ ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ⋅ Next

A/N: hi, hi, hi!!! I'm so happy to be updating NC at last 😭 It's really been over 2 months since chapter 17 lol. I'm sorry for how long it took me. In case you didn't see my life update back at the end of August, I got behind with writing due to a family death and then sickness, all at once. My entire immediate family got sick (3 covid, 1 strep throat) and I did, too out of stress from looking after everyone. It was a lot and I had little motivation to write + I didn't feel well because of everything, but all is well now!! :)) Even tho that was out of my control, I still feel a little guilty going this long without an update, so I just want to say thank you for being patient with me and for still reading this chapter/fic. It means a lot to me 🥺❤️ I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and that it was worth the long wait for you!! I hope you're all doing well and staying safe!! Alondra❤️ p.s. do we like the green theme or should I do another color? I was thinking about what color NC gives, you know, like what color vibe? I was torn between pink and green, but idk!

taglist:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp

@rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj

@taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1 @darksidescorner @geminis93 @1800-get-alife @hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis @f1-hoff @llumetrii @nina-from-317

credit for green divider to @/vysleix

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Oh authorrrrr,I'm baaaacckk~!

May we have more of the destined one being picked on more about his crush? 🙏 or have us being picked on instead? We hunger,oh merciful one,for a food only one such as yourself can provide. (AlsodontfeelpressuredtokeepupwithmyfuckerypleasetakeasmuchtimeasyouneedILY)

((and i Will anyway because YOU'RE FEED MY EGO AND MY WILL OF WRITE STUFF!!!))

"How long does it take to wear a dress?! We don't have al night!"

"I'm following the instructions, now sucking it up and leave me be."

Bajie gave a scruff to the tree where you were currently wearing a highly complicated Hanfu. The ribbons, the layers, everything seemed hard to put together! At least the shopkeeper was kind enough to make some draws to help you out during the dressing; you still had some dignity to try to preserve your personal privacy with your companions.

"Well, if you need help, I was pretty versetile in taking off those dresses!"

"Hold up, Uncle." Yuán Fèn staff slightly touched the old pig belly from his spot near the lanterna, your only source of light. "Leave her be. I thought you were a pious monk."

Now, why the need for such a thing like dolling you up? Well, Bajie found out that not only that the relic was in the spiders yaoguais clutches, but they were preparing some kind of feast of some sort!

The old shapeshift trick would be enough to pass through, but there was a small problem, you.

It seems like the Biàn huà Power created some kind of shield against those staff, and you would surely stand out between some Yaoguais. So the idea was to send yourself as a gift for the old lady! A midnight snack! 

 "Ah! She's far too young for me, boy! I'll leave her to you!"

The old Bajie was able to avoid the smack from the tail of the young monkeys, chucklings, while Yuán Fèn fighited a blush that reached even his own ears. It was like the entire world was now united. Just assume that he had feelings for you!

Old sages?! Those ladies that love to gossip around! He kept on mumbling some imprecation when you finally leave the security of the trees, fixing an earring on you.

"I think I'm done! So ? Edible enough?"

Yuán Fèn didn't speak; how could he?The silk followed the curves of your body like a stream, creating some effect almost as if you were floating. The bright colors make you more like One of Seven fairies, emanating an aura of pure beauty and purity. The jewels that decorated your neck and hairy shined like stars on you, but never like your eyes. 

Edible? Damn, he wanted to swallow you whole.

"Yooo? Earth tò Yuán fèn? Are you here?"

Your hands waved in front of him, trying to get his attention towards you. Saying that you found this state of him cute was an understatement. Your mighty protector, always ready for a fight, concentrated, never losing a step, is in fact easily flustered by a simple, elegant dress.

You giggled when he suddenly shaken his head.

"You look...uh...fine. Yes, fine, snackable, I would say!"

"Thanks... I technically need help with this... The shopkeeper said something about some symbols on the forhead that make you prettier. We lack mirrors here... "

You showed him a small bottle with some red color and a brush. He took it, analizing it a little.

"The huadian? Shure, no problem. Stay still okay?"

You hummed; you weren't sure. of the result, but you just needed something pretty on your forhead, right? 

Yuán Fèn learned closer...very closer. His eyes sherpened to get the right angle. It was a simple thing, but somehow you felt strange. That damn

Damn magic bond, it was still making you feel strange around him. He was so close that trying to hold your hands would just then reduce in a low blow on him, so you stayed still. But still, his vicinity was making you dizzy, so you closed your eyes. It made you feel better—not good, but better...

You wondered, he smelled always so good? It was peaches, of course, but he smelled like...pines, trees...he smelled like the fresh earth in the morning... You were so concentrated over him, even with your eyes closed, that you didn't even feel the brush leave your forehead.

He admired his work. He admired you.

You put a light make-up on yourself—something easy to do alone. Your cheeks were rosy like a plum flower, and the powder smelled like fresh parfume. They must have put some pearls in the mortar because the moonlight made you shine a little. You were beautiful in every possible way.

"Have you done?"

He woke up, hummed in response, and gave you back the red paste and the brush.

"There...uh...I need to go and check a few things! We'll move after that; be ready, okay?"

He was panicking, to the point of tripping on a few roots on the nearby tree. You giggled. Was he always this cute?

"Carefull, girl..." Bajie finally spoke, "You may have broken him. We still need him!"

You laughed, scoffing away those words with your hand. "Oh, please!"

"And...what about you?" He got closer, cleaning a spot from his pants. "Aren't you a little broken? Not even a bit?"

Your eyes changed size in a mere second. You started to stutter, looking around, trying to avoid Yuán Fèn from listening to the conversation.

"What?! Of course not! What...me and him...no! He's...he's great! Don't get me wrong, I like him! He's brave, he cares so much for me, and he's devoted to his cause! And..i'm just...i'm just me...he deserves someone better."

"Are you implying that you're not good enough for him?"

You sighed, kicking a few rocks from your way. It has always been like this; you always thought of yourself so low. The world around you didn't help either. You were always the second choice, always misunderstood by everyone. Even now with this new title that some misteryous wntity had put on you, you couldn't shake the idea there was some mistake.

And the Destined One—you couldn't think straight with him. He was just... so good, so perfect in your eyes. You didn't want to get hurt, especially since you weren't planning to stay there longer.

"Girl," the old one spoke again. "You must fight this voice in your head! If you love him, then go and take him!"

"Uncle Bajie...it's not so simple." You sighed again, looking in the direction that your friend disappeared. "I cherish him; even like this, I'm content. Really. No need to worry!"

You strain a laugh from you; even if the hurt was clear on your face, it was clear as the day. And with that, you reached your simian friend, maybe to avoid the discussion.

Bajie looked in your direction, cursing the destiny that had decided to put those obstacles on you both! He remembered his older brother, Wukong. The pain in his heart, hurting his love to protect the monk—maybe, with the freedom that he obtained, the old sage hoped for a new beginning and, maybe, to heal his heart from the loss. And now there they were, still unable to fix two hearts that clearly longed for each other but couldn't stay together.

@sleepingdramaqueen

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@crimsonflameproxy

@everlastingmoonlightsworld

@biankanoir

@cromboloni

@miraclecherryblossomsblog

@masksandfeathers

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[mintsturniolo]

i'm going out (m.s)

bf!matt sturniolo x f!reader

a/n: i know i've been mia. i've been going through it but i'm still working on requests and also working on a ton of drafts, so bear with me

summary: ari's going out for brunch with the girls and wants to show matt her outfit while he's on stream

Matt was leaning back in his chair reading the chat as he talked to his audience on his live. He was doing his best to keep up with the subs that he was getting, while he talked about a concert he had gone to a few days ago. “Yeah it’s crazy because I’ve looked up to them my whole life,” Matt was saying when his bedroom door opened.

Matt smiled when he saw his girlfriend Ari walk in wearing his hoodie and sweats. “Hey baby,” he said as he reached for her hand.

“Hey. Sorry. I forgot you were streaming,” she replied as she took Matt’s hand. “I”m about to go get ready.”

Matt shrugged as he looked up at his girlfriend. “Want to say hi to the chat?”

Ari leaned in where the audience could see her. “Hey guys. How’s it going?” she asked, earning a ton of comments asking when she was going to start being in lives more often.

Ari took a few minutes to interact with the chat before she turned her attention back to Matt, who hadn’t stopped looking at her the whole time she’d been standing there. “Anyways, I can’t decide between the white or the green dress Matty,” she sighed. “I love both of them so much.”

“You wanted to wear the white bow with today right?” Matt asked, his attention fully on Ari.

Ari nodded as she glanced at the chat. The fans were going crazy over this interaction. “The bow goes with both dresses. Try one on and show it to me, my love,” Matt replied gently.

Ari nodded and went to the side of the closet that Matt had cleared out for her. After getting the outfit she was going to to try on she made her way to the bathroom to change. Matt turned back to his computer and smiled at the camera. “Alright chat, I need to pick a game. I’m thinking Hogwarts Legacy,” he said, acting like the chat wasn’t asking for more information about his relationship with Ari.

Almost thirty minutes passed before Matt’s bedroom door was opened again. Matt looked up and a look of awe crossed over his face as he took in the sight in front of him. “Baby…” he muttered.

“I put the dress on and liked it so I just completed the look,” Ari said happily. “Look the new curler worked perfectly.”

“Come here,” Matt said gently as he put a hand on Ari’s waist.

Ari took a seat on Matt’s lap and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You’re stunning,” Matt whispered before turning to the camera.

“Thanks guys. Ya’ll are so sweet,” Ari said as Matt finished up a quest that he’d been working on. “Matt have you seen my car keys?”

“They should be on the kitchen counter,” Matt replied. “Dammit. I hate these spiders.”

Ari rolled her eyes as she continued to give the chat some attention. “Lets see. Lexi wants know my makeup routine,” she said as he read the comment. “I’ll post a video on my channel soon about that so stay tuned.”

Ari chatted with the fans while Matt completed the quest he was doing for the next several minutes. She glanced at her phone and sighed. “I gotta go chat. I’m having brunch with some girls.”

Matt kept a hand on Ari’s leg to keep her from getting up. “Make sure you call me to let me know you made it there safe okay,” he insisted earning a nod from his girlfriend.

Matt kissed Ari gently on the lips. “Have a good time my love,” he said.

Ari smiled as she kissed him back. “You’re acting like I’m leaving forever. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“I don’t care how long you’re gone. I’ll still miss you until you come back,” Matt replied as Ari stood up. “But for real. Have fun.”

Ari grabbed her bag that was at the end of Matt’s bed and waved at the camera. “Bye guys. Have a great day,” she said as Matt continued to stare up at her. “What?”

“I love you,” Matt said as Ari took his hand.

Ari smiled and ran a hand through Matt’s hair. “I love you more,” she replied. “Okay, I actually have to go. Have a good day my love.”

When Ari disappeared, Matt leaned forward in his seat and continued the game he was playing. “I’m so lucky, guys,” he sighed.

Taglist

@adirtylittleheart @sturniolo04 @yourenogoodforme @flouvela @mattyblover07 @sturnioloveniamh @slutforsturniolos