#but now you’re in a new timeline in which you have nothing

[arcsin27]

Allison Hargreeves and Tatsuya Suou are the same character

[pwinkprincess]

yuji fuckin u while gumi’s sleepin beside u two :3

if u dont like, dont read!!!! aged up 20+ characters. if u cant differentiate different timelines dni!!

you three have always been close. since you guys were young teenagers into your early adult stages. nothing major shifted, if anything you guys only grew closer. there’s no such thing as secrets or embarrassment, you have all seen each other at your worst and best. one minor thing that did shift is you and yuji’s relationship.

your relationship with him blossomed after one drunken night. megumi had bailed due to a mission taking longer than he thought. usually, you and yuji wouldn’t have gone to the newfound club without him, but you two were so excited and had been waiting months for your schedules to align and to go out for the night. everything was innocent and platonic, until it wasn’t. after one too many shots, you and yuji somehow ended up in the back of his car with his cock nestled deep inside your tight walls. since then, the two of you have grown closer and closer until he asked you if he could be your boyfriend.

megumi gave a neutral reaction when the two of you told him about your new relationship status. which to you, was a relief. thankfully, things really didn’t change. you three still did everything together, and there continued to be no secrets or embarrassment. you only feel bad for megumi when you and yuji get into an argument and he’s thrown in the middle with the two of you pressuring him to pick a side.

your eyes trail over to megumi’s sleeping figure. he has his back turned to you and yuji while he sleeps. what started off as the three of you having your common sleepover, turned sinister when yuji woke up at four am with a hard leaking boner. of course he made it your problem also.

he has you on your side, your back to his chest. your panties are slid to your knees while your legs are slightly pried at an angle. you bite down on your lip as you try to contain your moans and mewls. yuji’s cock is sliding through your slick pussy so deliciously. with all three of you being so quiet you could hear the sound of your pussy slickening his cock every time he pushes his hips against yours. the bed rattles every now and then when he hits a particularly hard thrust that causes your mouth to fly open and a weak sound to escape.

yuji presses soft kisses on your exposed neck. “you feel so fuckin good, babe.” he sighs out. “wanna fuck you harder.” his voice is whinier the closer he gets to his orgasm.

“c-can’t.” you whisper to him. “gumi’s gonna一haaa..” you’re cut off when you feel him twitch inside you and send a particularly hard thrust when you say megumi’s name.

“i know.. i know.” he groans. “jus wanna..” he kisses more spots on your neck.  “jus wanna fuck you like i mean it.” 

“you’re already making me feel good, yu.” your back arches when yuji suddenly brings two fingers to your clit. he begins rubbing in fast circles, trying to coax an orgasm from you.

“could make you feel even better.” he grabs your jaw with his other hand. he forces your head in his direction. the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds, not saying anything. you let your bodies colliding together do the talking for that moment. yuji cuts the moment when he crashes his lips against yours, he pulls you into a sloppy kiss. 

unbeknown to the two of you, megumi has his eyes sleepily pried open. his fingers are slowly rubbing over the tip of his clothed cock. he wants to rub his boner on something; anything. hearing the lewd sounds from your pussy and your lips slapping together. he almost wants to cry from how hard he is. he wants so badly to just turn around and look. just a peak. he wouldn’t even touch you or yuji, he’s just desperate to take a glance.

he feels like such a perv for just listening to the two of you fucking and not stopping it. he decides he’ll never speak of this moment and he hopes that the two of you do the same.

[juniperskye]

Let’s start over.

Sneak peek: Aaron and Reader were together back when she was finishing her bachelor’s degree. It went on for a bit until Aaron started to pull away – after confronting him, you called things off. Years later you return to Quantico to streamline the new child crimes unit which will work directly with the BAU. Aaron is surprised to see you and asks you to dinner…some shocking secrets are revealed. (There are timeline edits to this story to fit my vision okay?!)

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5301

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap (reader is in their 20’s and Hotch is in his 40’s), explicit language, keeping a child a secret, Hotch not being the best partner (past), description of BAU and other FBI units – some canon typical subject matter, OC’s Nora (child) Theo and Leila (agents), mention of hospitals, and mention of febrile seizure, mention of Jack, mention of Haley (their relationship timeline was adjusted to make this work – they separated when Jack was like 2-3 y/o) let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

** 5 Years Ago, **

“Aaron would you please just tell me what’s going on!” You pleaded.

“Nothing. I told you to just drop it. Nothing is wrong.” Aaron snapped.

Things had been like this for the past few weeks. Aaron was being short with you, snippy about menial things that had never bothered him before. You couldn’t figure out what was going on, it had truly begun to weigh heavily on your relationship.

“We both know that’s bullshit. Why won’t you just talk to me?” You were practically begging him at this point.

“Jesus Christ, would you just let it the fuck go. I said I don’t want to talk. Why is that so hard for you to understand?” Aaron shouted. “Maybe Dave was right.” He mumbled.

“Right about what?” Your voice came out much smaller than intended.

“Maybe you’re too young, too immature. You just don’t understand the stress I’m under.” Aaron huffed out a sigh.

Aaron and you had been together for nearly two years. Initially it had been more of a fling due to the fact that he was teaching a course you were taking to complete your bachelor’s degree. He and you took things to the next level once you’d graduated and now you were about to complete your master’s degree. You loved Aaron, but with how things had been going for the last few months, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was enough.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You whispered.

“So what?  We get in a little fight and you’re going to throw a tantrum?” Aaron spat pure venom.

“A tantrum?” You said, exasperated. “Aaron I’m not a toddler kicking and screaming because I am not getting my way. I’m a grown ass woman asking for some healthy communication in our relationship. We haven’t had a real conversation in months, and I don’t think I can go on like this.” You gasped, the realization finally hitting you…this had to end.

“Sweetheart, we can work this out. I’m sorry okay?” Aaron reached for you.

“No…” You took a retreating step, your back making contact with the back of your sofa. “I think it’s too late Aaron. And honestly it’s rich that you called me immature, when you are so emotionally stunted. You refuse to act your own age and talk things through. Instead, you bottle things up and push away anyone who cares about you. I won’t be your punching bag anymore, I have too much respect for myself.” Your tears had finally broken free, trailing down your cheeks clouded with black from your mascara.

“So that’s it then? We’re done?” Aaron scoffed.

“I guess that’s it.” You gasped.

With that, Aaron grabbed his bag and left. Pausing for a second, before shaking his head and making his leave. The moment you heard the lock click, your knees gave out and you collapsed to the floor as sobs ripped through your body. You laid there for what felt like days, broken and devastated by the loss of what you presumed was your forever. He was gone and you’d have to move on, something you weren’t sure was possible in that moment.

** Present Day **

“Hello? … This is she … Oh! Director Cruz … yes I am getting everything ready. … I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, truly. … Of course, thank you. … Alright, I will see you Monday. … Thank you … Bye.” You were practically buzzing as you hung up the phone.

“Was that bossman?” Hestia questioned.

“Yes it was! He was checking in and making sure I have everything I need before I start on Monday!” You gushed.

“I can’t believe you are moving back to Virginia. I am going to miss you so, so much!” Hestia whined.

“I am going to miss you too! But it’ll only be like a month until you join me…right?” You inquired.

“Yes! My lease is up then and as long as you’re still cool with us staying with you guys until we find our own place, we will be there!” She explained.

“Ummm of course you guys can stay with us! Free childcare…I’d be an idiot to pass that up!” You laughed as Hestia threw a pillow at you.

You were actively packing up your life and preparing to move back to Virginia. You hadn’t been back there in nearly five years. After breaking things off with Aaron and completing your master’s degree, you’d looked into PhD programs around the U.S. and had ultimately decided on the child psychology program at Colombia University, and while New York wasn’t too far from Virgina, it at least put space between you and Aaron. 

About eight months after you and Aaron had broken things off, Nora had come as quite a surprise. Despite the shock that was brought on by your pregnancy, Nora had become the greatest gift you could’ve asked for. Having Hestia around to make up for your lack in baby daddy had brought the two of you incredibly close together.

You had met Hestia in a pretty unconventional way, she was one year into her residency for general surgery, and you had appendicitis. So, she worked hand-in-hand with the surgeon who removed your appendix, and well, the rest had been history. She’s been with you through everything in the last four years, most importantly, she’s helped you raise Nora. You’d been sure to repay the favor, especially within the last year…Hestia’s mom had passed, leaving her 15-year-old sister in her care. The four of you had become your own little family.

“So, what’s your plan tomorrow?” Hestia asked.

“Oh, my parents flew in last week and they drove most of my stuff down on Tuesday. My mom said she wanted it to be set up for us, so we’d be able to move right in, especially since I start work immediately. So, I am just getting the last few things together today and we will head down tomorrow, and I guess we will finish getting everything set up this weekend. They’re staying with me, pretty much until you and Selene can come out. They don’t want me to have to put Nora in daycare.” You explained.

“Aw, I’m so glad they’re able to do that! I know by then you’ll be ready to have them out of your hair, but it is nice that you won’t have to leave her with strangers right away.” Hestia patted your leg. “I do have a question for you though…are you at all worried about running into your ex?”

“I don’t even know if he still works there Hes, it’s a huge place. Who’s to say we even see each other at all?” You shrug.

“You are so full of shit!” Hestia laughs. “Don’t act like you didn’t check to see if he’s still there.”

“Ugh! Yes he’s still the unit chief of the BAU! Of course I looked. And yes. I am terrified, Director Cruz said my unit will most likely work with the BAU more than any other team and I’m not sure I can handle that.” You groaned.

“You can’t avoid him forever babe. Are you going to tell him about Nora?”

“Hes, I don’t even know how I would begin to tell him.” You shook your head. “We ended horribly and she’s four now. What if he freaks out?”

“I mean he might. Hon, you have to tell him, she’s his daughter you know… I don’t think there’s an easy way to do it. Like it’s gonna be ugly no matter what. But at least you’re telling him.” Hestia reasons.

You knew she was right, you had to tell Aaron about Nora, but honestly it could wait. You had an entire unit to run, and you couldn’t let your fear of seeing him and having that conversation distract you from the important work you’d be doing.

Monday came far too quickly. Your parents had been a huge help, and the house was almost completely unpacked. Nora had settled in well with them being there with you both, and you were incredibly grateful to them for supporting you.

You had gotten up early to make breakfast and eat with Nora before heading into the office. When you walked into the FBI building, you made your way to the front desk to get your ID and then headed to the director’s office.

“Welcome! We are so glad to have you and your team joining us at the FBI. Child crimes is something that has needed an official unit for far too long, I am just happy to have you leading it.” Director Cruz greeted you.

“Thank you Director, it is truly an honor to have been asked to lead this team. From my understanding, Theo and Leila will be here tomorrow to begin officially.”

“That’s correct. I want to go over some logistics with you before I show you to your office. As of right now your team will just be the three of you, if we see a need to expand, we will. I am going to assign you and your agents each a specific unit for if you are needed in more than one place. You will be the point person for the Behavioral Analysis Unit and the Sex Crimes Unit, Leila will take point with Violent Crimes and Theo will take point with Cybercrimes. I anticipate that your team will work closest with the BAU and SCU.” Director Cruz explained.

“That all sounds good sir. Are the Unit Chiefs of these departments all aware of our arrival? I just want to ensure they will be prepared to work with us and that there won’t be too much pushback.” You posed.

“I understand. Yes, they have all been informed of your team’s arrival and I have made it very clear that their cooperation is nonnegotiable. At the end of the day, we all have the same goal, so hopefully there will be very little pushback from our agents.” Director Cruz reassured you. “Are you ready to see your office now?”

“Yes sir, thank you.”

Stepping off the elevator onto the sixth floor, you immediately took note of the directory sign listing that the BAU was housed on this floor. It made your stomach churn, knowing that you would most definitely see Aaron every day… not to mention in like the next few minutes.

“Okay so, through this door here is where the BAU is, as I mentioned before. There are two open desks down in the bullpen there for Theo and Leila, and your office is just there. You will be between agents Hotchner and Rossi.” Director Cruz noted as you entered your office. “I’d like to introduce you to agent Hotchner before I let you settle in; I think it is important given how frequently you’ll be working together.”

“Of course, sir.” You nodded.

The ten steps it took to get from your office to his felt like an eternity. You felt sick knowing that you’d have to face the man that had broken you all those years ago. You may have ended things with him officially, but he had truly ended it when he decided that you weren’t worthy of communicating with. At this point you were just hoping that he’d grown up in that area, because you really needed him to take the news of Nora well.

“Agent Hotchner, I have the new child crimes unit chief here for you to meet.” And before Director Cruz could give Aaron your name, it escaped his own lips, framed by his shocked expression. “Oh, you two know each other?”

“Agent Hotchner was a guest lecturer for one of my undergrad courses. He was my inspiration for entering this field.” You supplied.

It wasn’t a total lie…

“Yes, she was a bright student. I’m not surprised to see that she made it to the FBI.” Aaron added.

“Alright then, I will leave you to catch up then.” With that, the Director made his way back to his office.

“How um…how are you?” Aaron inquired.

“I’m well Aaron. I don’t really think anymore small talk is necessary. I should go get settled into my office.” You huffed out a breath before exiting the room.

You made sure to take your time getting settled. Placing some personal things out on your desk and shelves. You had a few plants, some of your favorite pens, some file folders, you hung up your degrees, you organized your psychology books on the shelves along with some law books, and the last, most important detail was a framed photo of you and Nora that you sat next to your lamp.

The day had sped by as you made yourself comfortable on the couch in your office while reading through some emails from other units and some case files of theirs from previous cases to see how they typically ran things. You had been trekking along just fine until a quite knock broke your concentration. Looking up, you weren’t entirely surprised to see it was Aaron standing there.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. It’s almost eight.” Aaron informed you.

“Oh shit! I didn’t even realize!” You scrambled to check your phone.

“I know that you said small talk wasn’t necessary, and I agree. I would however really like to take you to dinner to catch up, and maybe I can explain some things.” Aaron requested.

“Oh, I um. I’m not sure that’s a good idea…I uh-”

“Please. I really need to explain myself, for how awful I was back then. No excuses, just maybe it’ll help you see my point of view. I’ve worked on myself a lot since then.” Aaron pleaded.

“I have to make a call first.” You conceded.

“Of course. I’ll give you some privacy.” He exited your office.

You quickly called your mom, letting her know that you were going to dinner with a coworker, asking her to take care of the remainder of Nora’s bedtime routine. You also had to inform her you wouldn’t need to be picked up. After which you spoke to Nora wishing her a good night and giving her a kiss through the phone. You then gathered your belongings and met Aaron in the bullpen.

“So, I don’t have my car. My parents are in town, they helped me move, so I left my car with them.” You explained sheepishly.

“No worries, if you’re comfortable with it, I can drive us. I can take you home after as well.” Aaron offered.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.” You offered a gentle smile.

Aaron gestured you to the elevator and you made your way down to the parking garage. Aaron, ever the gentleman made sure to open the car door for you, both in the garage and again at the restaurant. There was a tinge of sadness that flooded your mind as you noticed where Aaron took you.

It had been your go to for date nights back when you were together. It was a recommendation from Dave – who you couldn’t help but feel a bit of resentment toward given the “too young” comment. You wondered if Aaron brought you here on purpose, and he must’ve picked up on your thought.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I drove us here. I guess it was muscle memory.” He shook his head.

“It’s okay. I’ve missed the food honestly.” You let out a little chuckle.

“I have too. I uh, I haven’t been here since we ended.” Aaron’s voice trailed off toward the end of his statement.

You were relieved that the night hadn’t been filled with awkward silence. It had, however, been a lot of catching up while Aaron avoided the main reason he brought you here and you avoided talking about Nora. You were both saved by the waiter when he came by to get your order.

“Would you like to see the wine list?”

“No thank you. I’ll just have water.” You were quick to answer.

“Water is fine for me also.” Aaron added.

“Are you ready to order your entrees then?”

“I will have the Mezzi Rigatoni, and she will have the Ricotta Cavatelli.” Aaron declared.

The waiter nodded and walked off. You couldn’t help but look at Aaron with a bit of shock. It is what you always ordered, so you couldn’t be mad, but it felt foreign and all too familiar at the same time. He always ordered for you when you used to go out, he used to know you better than you knew yourself…but that was then.

“I’m so sorry – I don’t know why I did that” Aaron was quick to apologize “Maybe coming here was a bad idea. It’s all too familiar.”

“It’s okay Aaron. I was going to order it anyway. Maybe we should talk about why we’re here.” You suggested.

“Of course. I want to explicitly state that I am not trying to make excuses for how I acted then, because I know I was horrible to you in the end. I do just want to give you some insight as to what I was going through at that time. I really want to communicate now what I didn’t then.” He began.

You nodded for him to continue as the waiter brought your food and drinks.  

“So, you know that Haley and I divorced before you and I got together officially. Well once you and I became serious and my time was either spent at work or with you and Jack, Haley didn’t seem to like that. She uh, she tried to fight me for primary custody of Jack.” Aaron explained.

“What? Aaron why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly, because I knew you’d take a step back in our relationship. I knew that with how selfless you are, you’d offer to back off and give me more time with Jack and I didn’t want that. I wanted to have you and Jack, so I kept it to myself. Which broke us anyway.” He concluded.

“I really wish you would’ve told me; things may have been different Aaron. I am glad you’re telling me now though.” You desperately wanted to reach for his hand but ultimately decided against it.

Now was as good a time as any, you had to tell him about Nora. He confessed something and it was your turn. And just as you were about to open your mouth, a shrill ring sounded from Aaron’s coat pocket.

“Hotchner. Yes…CCU as well? Yes – I’m with their unit chief now. We’re on our way.” Aaron hung up the phone and looked over at you. “Is your team here in Virginia?”

“Yes, they’re not meant to start until tomorrow.” You provided.

“Call them in, we have a case. Time is of the essence.” Aaron signaled for the check.

The two of you contacted your respective teams as you made your way back to the car. Aaron once again opened your door for you and drove you back to the office. You texted your parents and informed them of the case and asked your mom to let Nora know you’d be home as soon as you could.

30 minutes later you were on a private jet to Chicago with your team and the entirety of the BAU. You had unintentionally sat beside Aaron and began going over the case details with everyone. Aaron had begun explaining the preliminary profile, and you couldn’t help but chime in. Everyone was watching how the two of you riffed and bounced ideas off of one another so naturally.

“Just a reminder, there are new protocols for entry into the crime scene when we are locating the children. We need to follow those exactly to ensure we don’t harm these children more so than they are already. If you have any questions about those procedures feel free to ask me or my agents.” You instructed.

“Right. Now for assignments, Dave, JJ and Theo I’d like you to interview the family of the latest victim –”

“Molly Leland.” You corrected.

“Apologies. Dave, JJ, Theo go to the Leland’s and find out anything you can. Morgan, Prentiss and Leila, you three go to the abduction site, I want to ensure CSU didn’t miss anything. And Reid you’ll be with us at the station to start on the geographical profile.” Aaron finished, gesturing to the two of you.

Six days. It had been six days, and you still hadn’t made any progress on this case. Another child had gone missing, and things were incredibly tense. Both teams had been in the designated room within the precinct going over theories.

“I think we’re looking at this all wrong…” Leila began, “I think the person abducting these kids is younger than initially profiled.”

“Given their disorganization and the lack of consistent victimology, I’d say that’s a pretty plausible theory.” Spencer validated.

“Okay, Leila what were you thinking?” You inquired.

“What if it is a teenager? My thoughts were a kid who grew up in foster care – hence the random victimology. They just want siblings, and that’s why there aren’t any bodies.”  Leila suggested.

“I think she’s onto something. If it was a young adult who was newly alone in the world, they’d be looking to find people to surround themselves with.” Morgan continued.

“Garcia, run a search for kids that just aged out of group homes and foster care.” Aaron called to their technical analyst.

“Within the geographical limits I just sent over to you.” Spencer added.

When your phone rang, you excused yourself from the room, answering the call from your mom. You could immediately tell something was wrong given the slight lilt to her voice.

“Mom, what’s wrong?...Why do you need the children’s Tylenol. … Fever? What’s her temperature? … 103? MOM! You need to take her to the ER. … I’m serious! … I’m coming home. … Yes! … I’ll be there as soon as I can. … Take her straight to Bethesda. …Ok. Bye.”

You turned and jumped in surprise at Aaron standing there behind you.

“I just came to let you know we’re splitting up to check out a few leads. Is everything okay?” He asked.

You could tell he had more questions and that he’d more than likely heard the entirety of your conversation but was holding back in asking them.

“Um no. My daughter is sick. She has a pretty high fever. I uh, I need to get home.” You panicked.

“Okay. We will get you home then. I’ll send the teams out and I will make some calls. For now, just try to stay positive okay?” Aaron had always been the calm in the storm.

He sent three separate groups out to find the unsub and had made a few calls back to the director to get you on an emergency flight home. He went as far as to drive you to the hotel and then to the hangar.

“Aaron.”

“Get home to your daughter.” He offered a small smile.

“Thank you.”

Leila had texted to update you that they had caught the unsub and would be heading home in the next hour or so. You had been grateful that the team had successfully closed the case. What was killing you, was the state of your baby girl. She had an excessively high fever, and it just wouldn’t break.

“Miss, there’s someone here to see you.” The nurse informed you.

You looked over at your mom who gave you a nod and you exited the room. Following the nurse to the waiting room, you were surprised to see Aaron standing there.

“I just wanted to see how she’s doing, and how you are.” He declared.

“I um. I’m…” You couldn’t help but break down.

Aaron immediately pulled you into his arms and moved you both over to a couch in the waiting area. He let his hand brush over your hair and whispered reassurances to you. The two of you sat like this for a while before you slowly pulled away.

“Sorry. She just has this fever, and it won’t break, and they don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Sweetheart it’s okay. She will be okay.” Aaron grabbed your hand.

A moment went by and then an alarm sounded. Your gaze shot up as you watched medical staff make their way to Nora’s room. You got up and ran to her room, with Aaron hot on your heels.

“What’s happening? What is going on? Somebody tell me what is going on!” You were practically shouting as Aaron pulled you from the room.

Your mom was pacing in the hallway as Aaron held you back from storming back in. It was killing him to see you this distraught.

“It was a febrile seizure. This can happen when children have such a high fever. We’ve given her a sedative to try and help her rest and we pushed some more Tylenol to aid in breaking the fever.” The doctor explained.

“Is she going to be okay?” You questioned.

“We’re doing everything we can. A nurse will be by soon to take her temperature again.” The doctor walked away.

“I’m going to go find your dad. That way you two can have some privacy.” Your mom said pulling you into a hug.

“This is Nora.” You told Aaron as you ran your hand over her forehead, brushing her curls away from her face.

“She’s beautiful.” He complimented.

You sat in silence for a bit with him just watching Nora. You could tell part of him was itching to ask, but you also knew that Nora was a bit small for her age so he couldn’t be sure that she was his. This moment of avoidance was terminated the second the billing staff came in to get all of your information.

“Hey there, I wanted to confirm all of the info for billing. Do you have your driver’s license and insurance card?” The staff requested.

“Yes, here it is.” You passed her the card.

She filled in all of your information, clicking away on her keyboard while the rest of the room sat with a looming silence. You could feel the question coming. You had been an idiot to give Nora her father’s last name.

“Okay and can you confirm the patient’s name and date of birth for me?”

“Yes, it’s uh…Nora Leigh Hotchner. That’s H-O-T-C-H-N-E-R. Date of birth is 10/4/2019.” You could feel Aaron’s gaze burning into you.

“Alright, here are those cards back. Thank you.” She made her leave.

“Seriously?”

“Aaron, let me explain.”

“Not here.” He motioned toward Nora.

He swiftly made his way out of the room, and you were quick to follow. In noticing your parents, you signaled for them to sit with Nora as you practically chased after Aaron. He didn’t stop until he was in a private waiting room, it was only then that he turned to face you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? She’s mine? And what, you didn’t think to tell me…I don’t know, FOUR YEARS AGO?” Aaron was fuming.

A part of you understood his response, but another part of you was furious that he wasn’t allowing you to explain before flying off the handle.

“Don’t yell at me. If we’re going to do this, we will talk like adults. I will not sit here and allow you to berate me.” You held your ground.

“Okay.”

“I found out I was pregnant after I left for New York. And at that point Aaron, I was so devastated by our breakup, and I just didn’t think I could be around you. I know that’s not fair, but I had thought you and I were forever and then we’d just ended. I was going to tell you last week at dinner, but then we got called in. Aaron I am so sorry, and I know that doesn’t make up for the time you’ve lost, but I also need you to know that I did what I felt like I had to do.” You let your gaze fall to the floor in guilt.

“I understand. I’m not happy, but I get it.” He reached for your hand.

You accepted the gesture and furthered it by pulling him into an embrace. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head atop your own.

“I’ve told her about you.” You whispered.

“What?”

“I’ve told her about you. She’s seen pictures and heard stories. She knows you Aaron.”

He held you a little tighter and you nuzzled a little closer. After a few moments he suggested that you both get back to your girl. You both sat with her all night, letting your parents go home. At three in the morning, the night nurse gave you the good news, her fever had finally broken. The next day, Aaron drove the two of you home, leaving with a scheduled family day where you would introduce Jack and Nora. You had also discussed talking to the kids about their birthday party (since their birthday’s are only 3 days apart). With Jack turning seven and Nora turning 5 in a little more than a month, you wanted to plan something big for the two of them.

** One Month Later **

“Okay, the bounce house is set up and the petting zoo guy just arrived. Where should he set up?” Penelope asked.

“On the southeast side!” Dave hollered.

You were setting up the last of the hors d’oeuvres, while the members of both the CCU and BAU helped get Dave’s backyard set up for the kids birthday party. You were so incredibly grateful for this family you’d come to have.

“We’re here with cake!” Hestia announced.

“Hes! Selene! Hey guys, you can set that up on that round table over there.” You pointed.

Selene came over and gave you a hug, you snuck a snack into her hand and nodded over to your bag.

“My iPad is in there with the Twilight movies all downloaded. Dave has a sitting room down the hall to the right.” You winked at her.

“Thanks mom!” Selene said hugging you once more before heading off.

“Do you have another kid I don’t know about?” Aaron joked, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Ha ha! No, Selene just calls me mom. We’ve both taken care of her since their mom passed, but it became an inside joke that I acted as the mom to Nora, Selene and Hestia.” You huffed a laugh.

“It’s true!” Hestia confirmed, before taking a case of juice boxes outside to the cooler.

“You know, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” Aaron murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Opposed to what?” You giggled.

“More kids.”

“Aaron! We only just got back together, and we are at our children’s birthday party! Behave yourself.” You hissed.

“I know, but this time around, I’m not letting you go. I plan on marrying you and I just want you to know that I’m open to more children, one day, when and if you’re ready.” He punctuates it with a kiss to your lips.

“Well, I’m open to it too. And whenever you ask, my answer is yes Aaron. You’ve proven to me that you’ve grown since we ended before and I can’t stand the thought of going without you again so, I’m in this, for as long as you’ll have me.” You kissed him once more before carrying a tray outside to the party.

Aaron smiled and grabbed his phone, opening it to check the status of his order. There on his screen was confirmation that your ring had been customized, made, sized, quality checked, and would be shipping out soon.

He couldn’t wait to spend forever with you.

[legandairy-horror]

Does anyone else feel a strange sort of dread waiting for new deltarune chapters?

It sounds crazy right? I admit it's a weird feeling for sure, and I'm not even 100% sure if dread is the right way to describe it. But as more info is revealed and the next chapter inevitably gets closer and closer to releasing I can't help but feel a strange sort of, melancholy? Longing? The only way I can describe it is "when you know the goodbye is coming". The strange somber feeling when you know you’re going to have to leave stuff behind, but aren't quite ready for it yet.

warning: words. Homestuck

In 3 months Chapter 1 will be 6 years old, and in 2 months Chapter 2 will be 3 years old. Deltarune is ostensibly in Early Access but this release schedule puts new chapters closer in time scale to whole sequals if anything, which they most assuredly are not trying to be. This has created a strange situation in the fanbase that I don't think I've ever truly seen anywhere else. One where, In the time between chapters It feels like everyone has had their own chance to decide what Deltarune is to them. To create their own version of this story, to write their own themes that they want to see explored, to imagine their own events and plot twists they want to see play out.

@lynxgriffin Paper Trail Comic Being an Alternate Story following off of chapter 1

@lilybug-02 The Chara Timeline Being one of many interpretations on the popular Asriel & Chara roommates headcannon.

@huecycles Andromeda Chapters being their interpretation on the full game

The innumerable Deltarune Theorists and analysts like HalfBreadChaos, Andrew Cunningham, Stuffed Alpaca, etc. etc.

@vyletbunni Deltatraveler being a whole ass fangame based around a chapter 2 meme that it has long since outlived

And that's kinda the thing isn't it? Once more deltarune comes out, a ton of these projects will just become outdated, it's an inevitability. So what will happen to them? will they become forgotten? maybe, maybe not, it's impossible to tell. but either way it feels kinda sad to think about yknow? that one day all the time and effort spent and all the memories made might one day just cease to exist.

There's a lot more I could say on this topic if given the chance but to keep this tumblr post from morphing into a 2 hour long video essay in text form let me leave off with this.

In the age of the internet and social media there will always be a fan of something. Nothing truly dies quite like it used to anymore, regardless of whatever influencers want you to believe. But that doesn't mean things stop changing, that there wasn't a past that has since been left behind. I'm a Homestuck fan. more specifically I'm a Late Homestuck fan, one who came in after the comic had already ended and it's peak in popularity was long behind it. The fandom's still around all these years later. But it'd be foolish to admit that, 8 years after the comics controversial end, the inescapable trend of new fans replacing old fans has left the fandom wholly disconnected from the monolith that it once was. the only remnants of which lie in decades old discourse and fanfiction. Like old relics of a long forgotten city, waiting to be excavated under a fine layer of dirt.

Before I close out here I just want to make it clear: I'm not saying that we should be trying to return to some nebulous "glorious past" that never really existed. I'm not trying to deride Toby Fox for not working in the sweatshop hard enough to produce more content™, or whatever you wanna try and spin-doctor this post into. It's just a thought that creeps into my head every now that I wanted to share, see if anyone feels the same, yknow?

Besides it's not all doom and gloom. For those of you OG Homestucks who read till the end. You remember Heinoustuck? Guidestuck? Nightfall? Fucking Ke$haStuck? yeah those are still going by the way! after years of inactivity they've now started back up again. some under new authors and some by the same author but still!

You could say a lot about that but to me at least, it makes me feels hopeful in a way. That, even if not everything will survive. we'll at least have some mementos to remember what came before.

[strawberrymochin]

A Letter.....Long Lost!

kyojuro rengoku x fem!reader

word count- 12.2k

synopsis- the discovery of an old letter from kyojuro rengoku's room shakes the world of tanjiro. he thought he fulfilled every wish of rengoku. however he missed one. tanjiro needs to deliver it to the one it was written for; but the letter has nothing written except a name 'y/n'. who is y/n and how will tanjiro find her?

genre/warnings- post war timeline/ mentions of death/ slice of life/ angst/ fluff/ lots of flashbacks/ kamaboko trio going on a quest to find reader/ emotionally unavailable parents/ just read it i swear it wont disappoint/ comfort/ scenes of rengoku and mitsuri training/ mentions of mugen train

a/n- i had this idea in my head and i literally wrote this in two days. Loosely based off a film I'm obsessed with...this is my first time writing a long fic. im hella nervous. it will have a sequel with a reincarnation au and smut. not fully proof read, ignore small errors.

Nezuko chimed in as urokodaki made his appearance. Soon more people will join in. Kanao and aoi are helping in the kitchen, making several dishes while inosuke is trying to get aoi give him some to taste.

Tanjiro and zenitsu are spreading out the mats for people to sit and get comfy.

“urokodaki sensei! Please come and join.” tanjiro said noticing his former teacher, carrying a huge basket wrapped in a cloth with water patterns similar to his haori. Nezuko trails behind him bringing another basket.

“i brought some mitarashi dango and some hanami-zake for everyone.” said urokodaki with a soft voice, that made nezuko wonder if he was smiling under his tengu mask.

It's been 2 years since the war ended. People lost their dear ones with a pain bearing smile. Some endured injuries that would sustain through out their life marking them as ‘crippled’; while some sacrificed themselves for the greater good.

Seasons changed since then.

So did several people.

People who turned their hearts into stone, heavy from guilt of their family dying; who suffered from the culpability of being protected…

“giyuu san’s here too, please sit inside with the others while we get the stuff ready.”

“yeah how's your sister? I brought her some new kimonos”

A mild smile forming on his lips.

Tanjiro’s eyes widened a bit. It's kinda still new to him seeing such a soft side of the guy who barely used to smile.

……have let their guard down, allowing themselves to move on, now that there's no more threat hanging in the air.

People who had been afflicted by the remorseful long sleepless nights of trauma; killing the one who once bore them in her womb; whose eyes had become dull and frantic, dying inside in agony…..

“oi tomioka! Move outta my way!” grumbled sanemi, throwing a box wrapped in a delicate green cloth in tanjiro's direction as he catches it with difficulty. Having a hand crippled like an old man is sure a poor thing, not that tanjiro minds that.

“ahh the scary guy's here again! Don't touch the box tanjiro. It must've been poisoned!!!” shouted zenitsu, panicking around, hiding himself behind tanjiro.

“What did you just say?” Sanemi’s eyes narrowed at zenitsu, veins becoming more prominent, ready to throw a first at the blonde head's face.

“Goddamn shinazugawa! Don't scare the kid…” said giyu, grabbing his wrist and pulling him inside. “Wh-you’re such a creep tomioka!”

“Kk.”

“Stop giving me that kanroji face!” sanemi said as shivers ran down his spine. Somehow a smiling tomioka was scarier than muzan to him.

…have let go of their distraught, accepting the dreams which they wanted for their loved ones. Fulfilling it in their place.

“Both of them are creeps!” Zenitsu said digging his nails into tanjiro's skin as he spit curses on them. “Zenitsu they are gone now, can you please give this box to kanao san, it smells of fresh ohagi.”

“I'm telling you…it's fuckin poisoned”

“It's not, zenitsu…don't be like that” tanjiro pushed him away with the box. He then took up a broom and started sweeping any other leaves that fell down from the trees.

Pink flowers blossomed everywhere, now that another peaceful season had arrived.

Kanao had suggested nezuko and aoi that they should spend time together this hanami festival. Nezuko and aoi agreed to that instantly. Thus this is how they ended up inviting everyone at tanjiro's, whose house was surrounded by a lots of cherry blossoms.

Kiyo chan naho chan and sumi chan were playing with tengen’s baby as Suma kept pestering urokodaki san for loosening his face mask (I can't blame my lil curious mommy). Makio was sure annoyed at her behavior while hinatsuru just chuckled. Murata sat stiff in the presence of four former hashiras.

Almost all of them had arrived. Except the rengokus.

Aoi brought them some appetizers, as they kept on chatting. After decorating the food all of them would join outside admiring the moment of bliss.

“Senjuro Kun and shinjuro san ain't here yet right?” Asked tengen.

“They haven't made their arrival yet” announced aoi, “however tanjiro san is waiting outside for them, the food is almost done, we can start after they get here”

“HAHAHAHA…. RUSHING IN LIKE A BOAR!!!” inosuke dashed in with a sakura onigiri in his mouth, from the kitchen. “WAhahhh scar guy!! Fight me!” As expected from inosuke, nothing could ever stop him. At first he was a bit spooked seeing a lot of people at once and sticked to aoi till his normal composure returned.

“Still that dumb boar head! Will he ever get mature?” Sanemi grumbled lazily. “I agree” said giyu, smiling at sanemi, which almost made his stomach churn. Tengen bursted out in laughter, “I see you are still in spirit huh? Quite flamboyant of you.”

“YEAH THE GOD OF MOUNTAINS INOSUKE SAMA IS ALWAY—” Aoi smacked him on his head and dragged him away while muttering some apologies to the hashiras.

“He's still much of energy…and his voice has become much hoarse ain't it? I still remember taking those kids on that mission. And this kid in particular was such a ruckus.” Said tengen, stretching his arms.

“Isn't it good to see all of us after so long without having to fear losing someone?” Said hinatsuru, makio and Suma smiled at each other.

“But we had already lost many people.” Sanemi sighed. He wished he could apologize to genya. If life ever gives him another chance he would like to be a little less aggressive.

“If you keep sulking like that, your brother will definitely curse you from heaven.” giyu took a gulp of the matcha tea, sanemi sent at tanjiro's a month ago.

“Now that there are no demons, you two get along with each other quite well don't you think so?” Tengen threw the snarky question at them.

“what the—”

“I wish rengoku could have seen you guys like this…remember the one time himejima san told us that oyakata sama wanted to see giyu smile….”

“See me smile?”

“Yeah, what a waste of time i swear.”

“Rengoku disappeared for a while to buy glasses in order to make giyu smile.” laughed tengen.

“It didn't work though and then kochou emotionally blackmail me to make him laugh.”

“Oh so this is why you wanted to have sake daikon with me?” Giyu smiled again at sanemi.

“I swear if you make that kanroji face again at me, I will kick you on your balls.”

“Everyone food’s ready, let's go and sit outside!!” Said nezuko halting the heated nostalgic conversation of the two.

Murata finally lets himself relax a bit as the hashiras start moving out. Urokodaki slammed a hand at his back, as he felt his stiff posture return. “Don't be so stiff we aren't gonna ask you to duel.” murata’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment as urokodaki laughed off at the kid's nervousness.

These days are indeed peaceful.

Senjuro made his appearance a bit late. He apologized for his fathers absence, blaming on his health. It's not been that best for a few days.

“Oh goodness, is he really going to be fine, we can go run a check up on him you know?” Kanao offered an idea, worried about the shinjuro’s health.

“Thanks a lot. Actually there's something that has been troubling us for a while.”

“Is everything okay?” Tanjiro's asked with concern lacing his eyes. Sanemi noticed, he had always been kind. He was kind to his brother. During hashira training when tanjiro stepped over the line, it actually made sanemi kinda happy and relaxed. Atleast genya had someone in life he could rely on.

Shinjuro's put down his bowl and chopstick on the mats as he brought his hand to his knees.

“There's something we found a month ago….while cleaning aniki’s room.”

Not only tanjiro but tengen, giyu, sanemi, zenitsu and inosuke froze for a second. The untimely death of the young guy was such a sad event that has ached their hearts for a long time.

Tanjiro could smell senjuro’s emotions and it was odd. It wasn't sadness, or guilt, or anger. It was pity. And somehow it stinged tanjiro, the same way it did years ago.

Senjuro took out some bunch of old papers from the sleeves of his yukata.

Tanjiro's throat felt dry and uneasy. It were a bunch of letters.

All of them looked like they were forgotten for months. The letter envelopes had stained yellow and some even have their edges teared off. But it sure emitted a strong smell. The smell of kyojuro rengoku. Tanjiro's still remembers the distinct hints of his aura. And it somehow still lingered around these letters. Especially the one which was sealed.

“What is it?” asked aoi, finally breaking the deafening silence. A strong gust of wind blew the pink petals along with the letters from senjuro's hand. It's scattered around the mats as all of them tried to collect them.

“Y….y/n?” read nezuko aloud. She hold the sealed letter in her hand as tanjiro extended his palm to grab it. It had tear stains. One side of it had brush marks written ‘to y/n’. The ink has now blurred a bit. But it was still readable.

“What's the meaning of all this?” Tengen asked, grabbing one of the opened letters in his hand. Giyu had hold of one reading in pure shock, while sanemi pondered from the side. Eyes as shocked as giyu’s.

“What happened tengen-sama?” asked makio, seeing all of their disturbed expressions. Zenitsu tried to snatch away the papers from inosuke who was trying to eat it.

“We found these letters from aniki’s room. A lady named y/n had sent those letters to him. An—?”

“And that lady was his lover?” asked giyu.

“What nonsense!”

“He never mentioned any of that to me.” frowned tengen.

“Nor did aniki said anything about it at home. At that time our father didn't pay us any attention. He was drowned totally in despair from the death of our mother. Seeing us only infuriated his anger and sorrow. Aniki would train or be at missions and he was rarely at home. He never told me anything about that….”

‘A letter?’ thought tanjiro. He started sweating all of a sudden. He thought he fulfilled all his wishes but—

“Rengoku san! Please think about yourself, can you stop the bleeding with your breathing technique?” Tanjiro has muttered those words back then, panickingly, devastatingly.

He wanted rengoku to say yes. He wanted him to live beside him, fight beside him, eat beside him. But he didn't get that as an answer.

“No, very soon i'll be dead. Before that happens, i need you to hear me out. I have a younger brother named senjuro. Please tell him to follow his heart. And walk down the path he feels is right.” Rengoku’s face had the same content smile, which warmed their hearts up. He continued, “And tell my father to look after himself…and lastly…”

Rengoku went on and expressed his views on nezuko. It felt like a warm hug. Someone has accepted nezuko. Not because they pitied her but since they saw her true potential and that she was no harm to humans. And now when he remembers it clearly, there was something rengoku whispered before his heart stopped pumping.

It was a faint whisper. So subtle that tanjiro thought it was his ears ringing. But now that he recalls, after he said he trusted them as a slayers, he whispered a few words

“and the lette—”

Rengoku stopped mid sentence as tanjiro kept weeping. He wasn't looking at tanjiro but something behind him. It made him smile as he took his last breath.

“Oni-chan? What happened? Are you okay?” Nezuko pulled tanjiro out of his daze. Everyone was looking at him worriedly. Even sanemi was worried.

“I've not fulfilled rengoku san’s last wishes. I- i haven't. I haven't delivered…how can I be so dumb!!”

“What? Tanjiro san! Calm down! You told us everything aniki wanted to say to us.” Senjuro tried to comfort tanjiro.

“No…before dying he whispered something. I thought my ears were ringing but he did whispered something. It was about a letter.” tanjiro kept on babbling as everyone felt dead silent even senjuro couldn't move his hands.

The sealed letter stayed in tanjiro's hands.

Something that belonged to the girl named y/n.

Something probably dear to kyojuro rengoku.

Some words which were waiting since 3 years.

But…..who is y/n?

The rest of hanami festival gathering went by silent. Senjuro entrusted the letter to tanjiro as per as his request before leaving early since he need to be home before sunset to check upon his father. Murata and urokodaki san accompanied him on the way.

“That's completely ridiculous. None of us have any idea who the fuck this y/n is? how are the fuck are you even planning to find her?” Sanemi spit out bitter words at tanjiro, sitting on the porch, watching the sun slowly turn a deep shade of orange. It reminded him of rengoku’s odd hair colour. It's funny how not only he, but his tsugoku also had weird hair colour— a colour which was dear to Iguro obanai.

Tanjiro lowered his head, smiling a bit. Sanemi changed a lot, even if he speaks harshly, he can only smell pure concern. “But I can't start a new life without paying my debts. Rengoku san saved my life. Whoever lady y/n is….I need to deliver this letter to her.”

“I get what you're saying…but there's no address in any part of the letter. Moreover you are being hesitant on opening it. How do you think you will find her then?” Tengen spoke from the back, alerting the former wind hashira and tanjiro. Both wondered how long he's been eavesdropping them. They expect nothing less. He was a hashira and before that he was a ninja. Even after losing one arm and one eye, he still holds the same power.

“Honestly, I've no idea. But I just can't sit and let it slide.” said tanjiro.

“you’re getting married to kanao next year. Better focus on that. Don't get into useless troubles hanging her off.” sanemi said lazily, yawning and getting up to his feet, stretching a bit. “I will be leaving then. Take care.” Tanjiro didn't reply to him.

Tengen shared a look with sanemi. His eyes shooting a mischievous look filled with pride. Tengen has been in a mission with tanjiro and he knows how stubborn he can be. He knows how pure of a heart he had. And how he even had empathy for demons. He knows sanemi have to surrender infront of him.

Annoyed, sanemi rolled his eyes, “if you're that insistent on finding the girl, then why not refer to kasugai crows. Rengoku's crow might know something about the girl.” He suggested as tengen was in literal awe. He never thought sanemi could ever think logically with his brain. Tanjiro’s head perked up in joy at his idea. Now he finally has a path to look up. Sanemi felt awkward and took his leave, avoiding to look in their eyes.

“Ah! Shinazugawa san! Thanks for the idea!!”

“That brat finally seems to work a bit humane ain't he ?!” A deep laugh bubbled up tengen’s throat.

“I’m happy that he has softened a little now that demons have perished. However, about rengoku san’s kasugai crow, do you know where do I get in contact with it?”

“About that, i would recommend writting letter to kiriya sama. I'm sure he would know.” Tengen patted his head with a reassuring smile.

Soon he took his leave with his wives and giyu, since they were going to an onsen. Basically makio Suma and hinatsuru dragged him along forcefully. Giyu looked a bit tired but he was happy.

Things changed and improved rapidly in a short time. Zenitsu and nezuko got married last year. Murata also got engaged. Tanjiro couldn't help but wonder if the lady named y/n had moved on or not? Will rengoku san be happy if she found someone else? Will he be sad? He looked at nezuko smiling at zenitsu as he played with kiyo, naho and sumi. He looked at inosuke giving his shiniest acorns to aoi. He looked at kanao, smiling delicately, just like shinobu did.

He was happy.

But was the lady named y/n happy in her life?

Kanao looked at him and smiled. She came near him and took his wrinkled hand in hers. “Tanjiro san, you know I would really like you to deliver this letter to y/n san before we start a new life.”

“Even if it takes time?”

“Even if it does. I will wait for you for an eternity.” Tanjiro chuckled as red tints his cheeks. How pure kanao’s heart is? How did he get so lucky to have her in his life? God knows.

“Then I will write a letter to kiriya.”

After a few days, a letter arrived from ubuyashiki's. Along with that two kasugai crows were found circling over the house. Among them one belonged to tanjiro, when he was a demon slayer— tennoji.

The other was the one who accompanied rengoku till his last breath. Kiriya felt sad for rengoku and wrote his kind regards to tanjiro sending the crow to him. His name was kaname.

The crow looked pretty much normal and wasn't as hot -tempered as tennoji.

This was the first time tanjiro had seen him. “Hello, kaname san. Sorry for summoning you all of a sudden. But I wanted to ask you something…” the crow didn't reply, but tilted his head at tanjiro.

“I-ahh- do you know anything about a lady named y/n?”

The crow remained quite for a while, as if reminiscing the days which followed great sorrow. “Master's…y/n sama…master's lover…letters…”

His words were what tanjiro was expecting. Tanjiro finally saw a path clear.

“Can you tell me where she lives?” Asked tanjiro hopefully.

The crow shaked his head,“i don't know.”

Slightly disappointed, tanjiro started asking how she looked. The crow wasn't exactly able to describe her. Accepting his defeat, he asked the crow where he saw her for the first time. Maybe if he goes there, he will be able to find her.

“tokyo…capital…mission..”

the crow wasn't that helpful, they only got to know two things.

First- whoever this y/n is, she was rengoku's lover.

Second- rengoku's crow saw her in tokyo, the capital.

This indicates maybe rengoku and the people who went to the mission in tokyo as said by the crow, if alive, they might know something about it. Tanjiro wrote updates to the others.

A few days later, giyu’s letter came along with some sweets. In that he wrote that rengoku went to tokyo for a battle with lower moon 2 back then. Oyakata sama had assigned him to that mission, before he was a hashira. There were a bunch of people accompanying him, one of them being kanroji mitsuri.

Oh! Mitsuri kanroji was his tsugoku, tanjiro almost forgot about that, he got excited to ask her when reality struck him down. She died after the war. Even if she knew y/n tanjiro couldn't ask her.

He continued reading the letter from giyu as the path which formed in his mind started getting blurry.

Upon hearing from tanjiro, kanao dropped by at the kamado’s. She said she might have one way to get to know about y/n. Tanjiro's eyes perked up at kanao’s remark, which almost made kanao’s heart jolt since he was so cute.

Kanao explained, when shinobu was alive, she had once told her that mitsuri was close to a kakushi couple. She further said that mitsuri used to write letters to them about her missions on a regular basis. Those two even came to congratulate her when she was promoted to hashira. She said it was nice to see that a girl around her age so lively.

Tanjiro wrote a letter to kiriya again. And next week when tanjiro went out with inosuke to sell some charcoal in the city, a couple came to visit them.

Nezuko welcomed them, while zenitsu narrowed his eyes on them, especially upon the male.

When tanjiro returned home he was delighted to find the kakushi couple still waiting for him. They didn't hide their faces anymore. Dressed normally as regular citizens. Honestly they were pretty young, and tanjiro admired how they served the corps group keeping them intact.

“I'm so glad you both came.” Tanjiro bowed infront of them in gratitude.

“Oh no, that's completely fine. We are happy to be of any help. Oyakata sama said you wanted to know about mitsuri.” said the woman.

“Ahh not exactly about her, but for instance, do you have any idea if she ever mentioned a name called ‘y/n’?” tanjiro said pulling inosuke back beside him as he kept munching on the snacks for the guests. The guy gave him a creeped stare as he focused back on tanjiro's words.

“y/n? No I don't think so….she ever mentioned that name. Did she tanaka san?” The woman said.

Tanjiro felt anxious as the guy named tanaka tilted his head to think a bit.

“Nope I don't think she did.”, he clarified.

“Oh….” Tanjiro's voice was barely a whisper, that even inosuke sat straight checking if he's alright.

“Is there something else we can do, tanjiro kun? You look upset.”

“No no…it's fine. I was just trying to deliver a letter to rengoku san's love—”

“Rengoku san? Kanroji san’s master ain't it?” Tanaka spoke before tanjiro could finish his sentence.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god? The one whom rengoku san loves was y/n?”

“You guys know her?” Hope shined bright in tanjiro's eyes. So did a fervent fear. Fear of disappointment. Fear of not being able to pay his debts. Fear of not fulfilling rengoku san's last wish.

“We didn't know about her name but kanroji san used to tell us about her…isn't it shimi san?” The guy turned to his wife with a fuzzy smile on his face.

“Yeah, she seemed so happy, wanting to have a love like them.” Said the wife.

And for the first time till now tanjiro wasn't let down. “Really? Did she lived in tokyo? Rengoku san's crow said he saw her for the first time during a mission.”

“A mission? No.” The wife let out a chuckle, “it started way before that. Kanroji san said….. ”

“Ahh! Master! Can we please have a break! I'm tired from hitting the sword, my limbs are sore.” Mitsuri cried barely holding another strike from her master.

“Haha you got tired this fast, we haven't even started.” the blazing hair resembling fire, moved swiftly as the guy attempted another strike on mitsuri, but thanks to a call outside, he stopped midway.

“Wait a bit, I will be back in a while.” Said kyojuro rengoku, her master. ‘i will be happy if you don't come back for a while.’ she thought as she collapsed on her knees, to exhausted to move.

“Ahh senjuro kun! Bring me some snacks please!!!” She shouted hoping for the little kid to hear.

A bit later, rengoku comes back. Senjuro looked at his elder brother, frowning while holding a letter. Mitsuri sat beside senjuro, who brought her some onigiris.

“What's that master?” She asked, stuffing another onigiri in her mouth.

“Even I'm confused. It's a letter but it wasn't delivered by a kasugai crow but by a postman.”

“Huh? Maybe it's from some neighbour wanting to lower your voice while eating.” Senjuro said shrugged off his shoulders as mitsuri suppress her laugh bubbling on her throat, almost choking on rice. It wasn't an irregular thing that neighbors anonymously complained about kyojuro shouting ‘umai’ every time he ate.

“Open it.” Said senjuro, curious what type of sarcastic words they might have chosen now.

Kyojuro did as his little brother requested. However kyojuro didn't reacted after reading the letter.

“Today's practice is over. You can relax.” He, then ordered senjuro to boil him some bathwater, shooing him away.

Senjuro obeyed his brother, while mitsuri felt kinda odd, yet she was happy to have a day off.

As soon as both of them left the backyard, rengoku blushed like crazy. The letter was still in his hand as he tried to digest the words.

“A love lett—” a big palm shut mitsuri’s mouth, preventing her from shouting. Yet she was squealing. “I thought you left! You've gotten quite quick in sly footing didn't ya? I'm impressed.” He finally removed his hand from mitsuri's mouth.

“Ofcourse you made me practice for 23 hours without sleep. Anyways, what's written in that?”

“Do you want me to make you practice for 2 days straight?”

“Naah I'm fine! But master, I'm happy.”

“Okay.”

“And curious too. Please let me read it.”

“No!”

After shooing mitsuri out of the backyard he tucked the letter in his sleeves. This letter was sure weird.

“Rengoku san thought that she didn't read the letter, but she had a strong memory and could remember each word after seeing it once. She was so excited telling us about that.” said the wife, looking outside the window at the moon.

The flame of the lantern flickered a bit. “So that might mean that the letter should be among those papers…”

“Woah zenitsu! I thought you were asleep?!”

“How am I supposed to sleep if you're talking that loudly idiot!”

Yeah the paper. There were a lot of papers. Some were smudged and unreadable, so they didn't read all of them. Tanjiro went over their cupboard and brought the bunch of papers.

“Can you identify the letter among them?” He asked the guy to inspect. The couple looked at each other. “Maybe we can try but the writings aren't clear.”

“Please if you can. I need to deliver that letter.” tanjiro bowed his head down begging to the couple.

“You're a nice kid, Tanjiro kun. We will surely help you.”

It's been more than twenty minutes since they are reading each and every paper. Inosuke got bored and slept on the tatami mats. Nezuko was already asleep so they didn't wanted to bother her.

“Yeah maybe this one. From what Kanroji san had explained, this seems to be the one.” The guy tanaka handed the delicate piece of paper to tanjiro.

“However, in each of these letters, she referred herself as his wife…I didn't know he was married…?”

“Huh?” Tanjiro frowned upon the man's words. ‘what?’ he checked the letters again. And the guy was right, y/n did refer herself as his wife. They didn't read the papers as carefully since they were long, they just assumed she was his lover. But rengoku san wasn't the one to hide such crucial information.

Tanjiro was confused, they were so focused on finding the address of y/n that they ignored reading the letters, which could provide information about her.

Tanjiro spent the entire night reading each word carefully. Fingers running across elegant handwriting and smudged ink. As he kept reading those with a pain in his heart. There were in total 7 of those letters, which were written to rengoku. And the one which tanjiro kept seemingly in care— the sealed one; one which has a strong smell of rengoku’s aura; one with tear stains.

The couple spent the night in their house and left the next morning after breakfast.

This helped but not that much. However the path had become clearer.

He knew that the girl was from a nice family who had hands in education from the curves in each characters of her words.

Second, she had mentioned that he had saved her and her friends from a fire, in yokaichi.

“I'm leaving for yokaichi.” Said tanjiro during breakfast.

“Eh? Oni- chan?”

“Don't worry nezuko, oni-chan will be back soon.”

“I will also go!” Said inosuke, “inosuke-sama will protect kamaboko gonpachiro, his minon from any harm.”

Tanjiro chuckled at how inosuke shows his care for him, “fine then.”

“Zenitsu san you also go with them…”

“Ehh, but nezuko chan won't you be lonely without me? I know you will be lonely without m—”

“I won't. You guys will be back soon. Till then I will be at butterfly mansion.”

“B-but nezuko channn!!!!” Inosuke dragged him away as nezuko watched the poor soul. She felt bad but she wanted him to be with her brother. She just felt that the three of them should go together.

The three of them finally reached yokaichi town. It was small but quite dense in population. Tanjiro felt that this was an advantage for them since they stories and folks might spread fast in a vast social surroundings.

“Inosuke, zenitsu let's ask the older citizens first, since they might be living here for a while, they must have known about any fire incidents.”

“I was about to say the same thing as you.” Snorted the board masked guy rushing off in the east direction. Zenitsu simply nodded and went in the opposite direction, sulking. He has been giving tanjiro silent treatment since he had to leave nezuko alone.

Tanjiro sighed as he started finding old citizens nearby asking about a fire incident.

After asking a few of them, he sighed, it didn't really do any help, since many weren't able to hear and some weren't able to remember. When he asked the youngsters, they ran away seeing his old crippled hand.

Tanjiro, let down, returned to the spot where they had started searching. Inosuke was already there tapping his feet as he was waiting for the others.

“Did you find anything?” Asked tanjiro.

“Nahh! They were mere cowards. Running way from me. Though I liked it! Everyone should fear the great inosuke sama.” As expected from inosuke, zenitsu was yet to return. Both of them decided to wait till he comes back.

After a while, zenitsu came back. His sulking still hasn't tailed off. “Ahh zenitsu! Did you find anything? You took so long!!”

Zenitsu didn't reply.

He stared at him with dead eyes.

Oh god! Zenitsu’s moody phases are the worst, especially if it's an urgent task. The whining and sulking from a few years ago flashed in front of tanjiro’s eyes.

“You turned mute or what?” said inosuke, already having enough of zenitsu’s tantrums.

But the only reply that came from the blonde was an eye roll. Inosuke got pissed, ready to throw hands at him if not stopped by tanjiro.

“Zenitsu, I will get nezuko chan make sweet washagis for you when we get back home.”

“Really!! You better do that. I can't even explain how much I've missed my dear wife nezuko chan. She must be so lonely without me.” Babbled zenitsu, finally speaking for the first time till they left home.

“She won't.”

“Stop making snarky comments you stupid boar head. What do you even know about pure love between me and nezuko chan?!!!”

“Ahh zenitsu! Did you get to know anything?”

Zenitsu considered tanjiro a while, before giving in, “At the very west of this town, there's an inn. People said it almost burned down about four years ago…I looked for its owner but they said he will be back late.”

Tanjiro let out a breath. If that's the case, then the owner might remember the incident clearly. If only he could provide any useful information.

“Btw do you really believe whoever this y/n is…she's still alive?” Zenitsu scratched the back of his neck, shooing away the mosquitos ready to feed upon his blood. It's been long three of them are waiting in front of the inn for its owner to arrive.

“Let's just not lose hope.” The inn did looked like it suffered severe consequences from whatever happened 4 years ago. Most of it has been repaired but the aura and the smell can still be recognised. There are still some wooden planks with burn marks which are yet to be repaired.

“May I ask who you three are?”

A chilly voice turned their attention. There stood a thin, frail boy, barely an adult. His eyes were small with hair falling down on his brows. He speculated about them with a suspicious look in his eyes(especially on the boat masked guy). Was he the owner? He looked too young for that.

“Ahh good evening! I'm tan—”

“If you're wanting to stay the night, go somewhere else, I'm not opening the inn today.” He replied coldly before tanjiro could even introduce himself.

“Ahh no, you're misunderstanding…. actually we are here to ask you something about the incident four years ago…”

The look on the boy’s face changed from suspicion to disgust.

“Well…I don't wanna talk about it. You guys can leave.”

“No please, at least hear our questions. It's really important.”

“As if I care.”

“Hey fucker! If you don't answer I'll break each and every bone in your body.”

“Stop it inosuke!” This isn't going any better. It's almost night, they also need to find a place to stay.

“tanjiro can you move aside a bit” said zenitsu, without waiting for his reply, he went to the kid. Apparently he whispered something in his ears which seemed to have creeped the guy out.

Tanjiro gulped. He must be desperate to go home and see nezuko. Sometimes he forgets that their coward friend can be hell scary when it comes to nezuko.

“Okay. He's ready to spill anything he knows.” The look on the kids face made it clear he didn't wanted to recall anything about that incident. However tanjiro had no choice but to push him off the edge.

“Hey I'm sorry if we're causing you any trouble, but you know we really need to know anything you know about a girl named y/n.”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah. Heard it before?”

“No. There were none with this name.”

“Eh? Can you try to recall. There must be someone. A girl who was saved by rengoku san. A guy whose hair was similar to fire.”

“Kyojuro rengoku you mean? He pretty much saved everyone. The inn you see here, is small. Before the incident also it was small and not that popular. Only a few people stayed here occasionally. So I can be sure there was no one named y/n.”

An ‘oh’ is just what tanjiro could manage. The boy got inside the house behind the inn. The night fell and they were still in the same position as before.

Inosuke was throwing tantrums in hunger, so they decided to go to an udon shop nearby. Perhaps they should not lose hope. Thinking empty stomach is not always the best option. This they were sitting in the shop waiting for their order to come.

“But she did mention in those letters that she was saved by him. How come the owner doesn't know anything about that?”

“I already told you we should have broken his bones, monjiro.”

“I think it's useless, let's just go back home to my nezuko chan.”

“Zenitsu! What if you were in place of rengoku san? Would you be happy if your last words don't reach nezuko?” zenitsu went silent at that.

They stayed silent till three bowls of hot udon were placed infront of them. Tanjiro and zenitsu thanked the server for the food whereas inosuke just shoved his head into the hot udon bowl. “You guys seem a bit tense, is everything okay? Asked the old man, the owner of the udon restaurant.

“Yeah we're just a bit disappointed.” Said tanjiro. “Haha and why so? Got rejected by a girl? Can't blame her, it's your hand.” The old man pointed at tanjiro's crippled hand. “What happened that's it's such in a bad condition?”

“Oh! It's…from…from a fight.” Tanjiro smiled, it's hard to offend him anyway,“ i already have a fiance and we are getting married soon.”

“Oh my god! Please forgive my mean words then. I wish you both happiness.”

“Thank you.”

“Then why pull a sad face. My udon tastes the best when you eat it with a good mood, ya know?!”

“Haha, I'm sure it will still taste good. Actually we were here wanting to acquire some information about the fire incident 4 years ago.”

“Oh that was such a bad one. If there wasn't that guy everyone would have lost their life…”

“Rengoku san? You mean?” Tanjiro's eyes perked up. “I see, you know kyojuro. Yeah, that boy was a regular in my shop. Although it's been more than three years since he last visited, i wonder how he's doing? Tell him to visit once, the old man misses him.” the man bursted in laughter while the three of them couldn't even managed to smile even once.

How are they even supposed to tell him, tell him that, “rengoku san died three years ago while saving us from…” zenitsu's voice trailed down into nothingness. So did the old man's. They didn't knew if he's aware about demons so they didn't exaggerated it anymore.

No one spoke for a while.

“I see. What did you guys want to know then? I'm sure you were close to him if he gave up on his life for you all…”

“do you know anyone named y/n? I need to deliver this letter to her.” tanjiro took out the yellow stained letter and handed it to the old man, who squinted his eyes on the writings, drawing a wrinkled finger tracing it's shapes.

“Y…y/n…..yeah she asked me to send some letters to his residence. The kid was young and beautiful.” he returned the letter back to tanjiro.

“She did?!”

“Yeah…that kid almost begged me to not tell kyojuro anything about that.”

The three of them looked at each other. “Can you tell us more about her?” “Do you know where she lives?” “Can I get a refill?” The three of them threw questions at the old man's face, whose lips creaked a bit. “Hmm, I don't know where she lives but I can tell you about her.” He said taking inosuke’s bowl to the counter for another refill.

The restaurant was almost empty so they went and sat on the round seats opposite of the counter.

“It was about four years ago when she appeared in my shop after kyojuro left….”

“umm excuse me…” you said

“Yeah young lady, what would you prefer?” asked the owner pointing at the chart hung on the wall which displayed all the items on the menu.

“I will take a hot tempura udon please.” said the girl beside you.

“And you miss?” The owner directed the question towards you. “Umm I will take anything you prefer.” “Ehh is that so? Fine, I'll make you the tastiest bowl of my special udon.”

“Just tell already…!” The girl beside you whispered into your ear, which was audible to the owner, he chuckled a bit. “Can you shut up….!!”

“I will if you say it…!”

“Okay fine!”

“Umm…if you don't mind, is there any way you can ask the address of the man who just left a while ago?” you asked hesitantly, fiddling with your fingers.

“Kyojuro you mean? I already know his residence, he made me deliver udon to his place before.” the owner said trying to keep his composure, young kids are just so bold nowadays.

“Is that so?” your eyes shined dreamily.

“Why harbored a crush on the man you saw a few mins ago? Hahaha!!” you felt blood rush to your cheeks as you couldn't find words to answer his question.

“She wants to thank him for saving her.” said the girl beside you. “Atsuko!” Atsuko just gave a smirk, ignoring how she threw you in such humiliation.

“Ah…if you don't mind then can you please deliver this letter to him anonymously. Don't tell him I asked you to send it. Please…I can pay you for that..”

“I don't need any payment. I will do that. You can just come and enjoy my special udon sometimes.” the owner accepted the letter from your hands, tucking it in his sleeves. “And maybe watch that man you talked about…he comes here around weekends.” The man hinted you the place which kyojuro normal has his lunch. And if you weren't blushing any harder, you felt your entire face burn with embarrassment. But you want to do it anyway.

Atsuko giggled beside you excited to see what happens next.

“So you delivered the letters in her stead?” asked zenitsu.

“Yeah…she kept coming back with letters for a good six months, if i remember correctly. Maybe kyojuro replied to them…”

It fell silent for a while. The only sound echoing was of inosuke slurping on the noodles.

“So, while you delivered letters rengoku san didn't knew her?” The guy with red eyes pointed the question at the owner.

“No i don't think so, she never came when he used to visit, that is, the weekends.”

“Can you tell us what was the name of her friend again?”

“Atsuko…if I remember correctly..”

“Can you describe how she looked?”

“Ehh? I can't really remember people's faces clearly, but she was very beautiful, big eyes with a nice soft skin. Her hair was long and dark. She had a soft voice. She looked like she belonged from a privileged family. So did her friend.”

“Oh is there anything specific you remember about her?”

“Hmm…let me think…if I'm not wrong rengoku once mentioned her name to a boy who tagged along with him. If you go to him i believe he could provide you some answers.”

“Really? Who was he?”

“His name was….daisuke I guess. He used to wear a similar black sort of uniform like kyojuro.”

After finishing their meal, tanjiro payed for everyone and thanked the old man for all that information. They went to a nearby inn and spent the night.

Tanjiro wrote some letters updating each one of their current status. And he sent a crow to kiriya requesting him to take a look if there's any former slayer named Daisuke and used to frequent his missions with rengoku.

The next day around afternoon, tennoji returned from ubuyashiki's. He said there was indeed a slayer named Daisuke. He had suffered severe injuries from the war and now lives in his village.

As directed by tennoji, tanjiro's crow, they went to the south east from their current position. After two days and one night of sleeping in the jungle without the fear of demons, a village appeared. It wasn't that populated. After asking a few kids, they showed the path which led to Daisuke’s hut.

“Umm excuse me? Daisuke san?”

“Yes, wh— ta…tanjiro….aren't you tanjiro?” the guy said, he was blind from one eye similar to tanjiro, with a missing arm and a limp leg. Tanjiro felt sorry for him.

“Yes, they are inosuke and zenitsu. Sorry for being a bother….”

“Oh no please come inside. I will get tea for you…” he said excited.

“Oh, you don't have to. It's fine. Actually we wanted to ask something….”

“Yeah? Please come in. I will surely help you as much as possible.”

They entered the hut and sat on the tatami mats. Even after pleading not to bring any snacks, Daisuke brought some rice crackers for them.

“Please have them.”

“You didn't have to.”

“Oh it's nothing. Now what did you wanted to ask about?”

“It's about y/n.” Tanjiro said as the rest simply focused on rice crackers. A hint of familiarity glistened in Daisuke's eyes. “Y/n? You mean the one rengoku san was madly in love with?”

Madly in love with? Tanjiro felt a pinch in his heart. Rengoku san must have adored you. The sealed letter had tear stains. Did rengoku cried while writing that?

“Ah…yeah…I need to deliver this letter to y/n but I don't know where she lives. Did rengoku san ever mentioned where she lived?”

“A letter? Why sent a letter when he was so adamant about that?”

“Adamant?”

“Yeah…he said that the pages limited his words to her. He was so desperate wanting to see her that he spent like 2 weeks searching for her without taking rest after his missions.”

“Seriously? So how are you supposed to recover from those injuries?” Daisuke said to his senior with an exasperated expression.

“It will heal when I get to see her face.” Said rengoku, bandaging the cut from a demon's blood arts whom he just killed.

“You're gonna exhaust yourself from build up fatigue.” The sun rays kissed the soil painted in crimson from the shedded blood.

“I will be fine. You go and take rest.”

“I can't believe you're going to find the creepy girl sending you creepy letters claiming herself as your wife.” Daisuke let you a sigh at rengoku's stubborness.

“In that case I gotta meet my wife.” Rengoku's laughter echoed among the vast field.

It still echoed in Daisuke's memories.

“So rengoku wasn't married…?”

“Naah. Honestly I think, after rengoku san’s mother died, he had faced severe neglect from his father. He was the oldest son of the family, so he had to be strong for his sibling. But sometimes we forget, even the strong needs someone to back for them. Even they need some kind words to let go all their tiredness and have a tight sleep. Even they need someone who assured them that they have a bright future…”

That's right. Tanjiro had seen how shinjuro, rengoku san's father, disrespected his sacrifice. He was so lost and depressed in his wife's loss that he forgot about the ones who need the most care— his kids.

Daisuke continued, “when the letter came from y/n, rengoku san must have read comforting words for the first time since that. He used to reread those letters a thousand times when he was free. Sometimes I wondered if he ever got bored doing that…but I knew he didn't. A starved man will eat anything. And I knew he was emotionally starving.”

Zenitsu and inosuke stopped eating rice crackers. Rengoku's death solely hurted them as much as it did to tanjiro, but they never thought it was that deep. That it was something beyond his life as a demon slayer.

Zenitsu could relate. After all he was an orphan. And rengoku was too, being in a situation similar to him, where his only parent was emotionally unavailable for him. He felt sorry for him.

No one dared to say anything. The silence was piercing their hearts like splinters of iron.

“Fun fact was that he did find her,” Daisuke chorted a bit before continuing, “and he literally begged her to marry him…”

Rengoku searched from cabin to cabin in the steam train. In the last letter you mentioned you were going to aomori to visit your relatives by train.

After a bit of negotiation he learned that there was only one train which was going to stop at aomori. This is how he ended up buying tickets at the last moment getting in the train, to find you.

He hasn't seen you before. He wondered how you would look. Even more beautiful and kind than your letters. Even more beautiful than the slight hooks of the curved kanjis you had written his name. Even more beautiful than the blazing sun.

He had checked almost the entire train. The content smile on his face has now thinned into pursed lips. He was nervous. What if he fails to find you? What if he never gets to find you? What if he never gets to see your face?

What if he didn't recognise you?

He flashed all the passengers in his head before lowering his head. None of them carried the same demeanor your letters did. He couldn't imagine any one of them being you.

He entered the last cabin. It was empty. However this cabin seemed a bit different. It had a narrow passage on the right with doors while the opposite side had small rooms. It seemed private. One previously booked by someone.

Rengoku turned back to return to his cabin when the door beside him shot open.

Inside was a girl, who seemed to have frozen for a while.

“Y/n?”

The girl’s eyes widened at the name which left rengoku's lips. She shut the door close, but it didn't closed, something was blocking it. The girl looked down, realizing rengoku had slipped his feet in to prevent her from doing that.

He barged the door open. “Y/n right?”

The girl remained silent for some time.

“I apologize to you with all my might rengoku san. Please forgive my intrusiveness.” you said, lowering your head, nervous at the sudden appearance of him.

“God you're even more beautiful than I thought…” you shoot your head up only to see him looking with such dreamy eyes at you as if you're the only thing he's ever wanted to look at. And it made your stomach churn. Guilt rushed in each of your veins.

“Rengoku san, i shouldn't have wrote those letters to you.” You say. Your friend had warned you before. You didn't listen.

“Why?” He took a step closer.

You gulped before answering,“i wrote nonsense, pretending to be your wife I'm very sorry yo—”

“Then don't pretend anymore.”

“Huh?”

“Be my wife.” Rengoku suggested. His face now inches away from yours.

“And then she ran away?” Said daisuke, barely containing his laugh.

“Yeah…did I do something wrong?” Rengoku said with visible confusion plastered on his face. It was rare to see any expression other than his smiling face.

“Of course she would run away.”

“and why so?”

“Rengoku san, a girl thinks about her future first after marriage. She knows nothing about you.”

“But she wrote me lett—”

“Which you didn't answered….since you thought you couldn't fit your words in papers.” Rengoku couldn't say anything in his defense. It was true rengoku never replied to any of your letters. When he received the first one he thought someone was pranking him. But then the letters came continuously, one each month. He slowly fell in love with those. He fell in love with your letters. And somehow, he fell in love with you.

“Then what do I do?”

“Be honest, tell her about your salary and your job, tel her you can take care of her needs.”

“Yeah? Kk I'm going then…”

Rengoku stood at the aomori station waiting for you to get on the train for your return. Upon spotting you, he called out for you. The train had a delay and he had a good 1 hour to make things clear.

“Eh? R-rengoku san!”

“I work in demon slayer corps. And currently I'm in the highest rank which is kinoe. I get a decent salary of 42,500 yen. I live with my younger brother and father. My mother died a few years ago from illness. I spend my day training, slaying demons and rereading your letters,” guilt rushed through your veins again. “I promise, I will fulfill all your needs and treat you like my queen.”

“rengoku san...”

“sorry i didn't replied to any of those, I just couldn't express myself much in writing. If possible I would like to crawl into a hole. However you don't need to worry. I will make sure that I keep you happy.”

You frowned at his words, unable to explain him. How could you do that to him?

“Y/n san, let's make the words on the letters true. Let's be husband and wife. I know that I work in an organization that isn't approved by governm—”

“Rengoku san, shall we walk while talking? We are blocking the road.” you change the topic, not wanting to talk about it.

“Sure.”

Rengoku continued telling you everything…everything about him. From his childhood till his mother's death. From his father's neglect, to his way up to kinoe, from his sword to the number of demons he slayed. You didn't believe in demons before, but now that rengoku tells you about this, demon folks is something you want to believe. You wanted to believe in everything he said. Even if he's telling the dumbest thing, far from reality, you wanted to believe it.

“Y/n san! Look here!” You turn back to rengoku.

Click.

“And did she said yes?”

“Maybe. He didn't mention her answer. He was so happy that finally he met her.”

“You must have seen her then…can you tell us how she looked?”

“I think I might have a photo of her. Rengoku san, asked to recieve a photo delivery, since he had a mission from the previous oyakata sama.” Daisuke got up limping to the one of the backrooms of his hut. He returned a few minutes later, handling a black and white photo to tanjiro.

Inosuke and zenitsu peeped from the sides to take a look at the long awaited moment, when they finally get to see y/n.

The photo was black and white, but tanjiro felt it was still colorful to rengoku san. In the photo there was a girl, young, with long beautiful hair, in a loose braid. She wore a flower hair ornament, which must have shone in gold back then. She was just how the udon owner described her, big doe eyes, pretty mouth, she looked educated. She was dressed in a floral patterned kimono. Zenitsu wondered what sort of colour the kimono would have been. He wondered if he could get a similar one for nezuko as a souvenir.

The girl was beautiful. Inosuke thought, she had similar smile to shinobu, he wondered if his mom’s smile was like that.

The girl's reflection reflected in several mirrors behind her, and one of the mirror had caught the reflection of the one clicking the photo— kyojuro rengoku.

“The last I heard from rengoku san, he said she wanted to meet him before taking the mugen train mission. He seemed happy, maybe she agreed eventually to marry him….if only he didn't…” Daisuke didn't finished the sentence, considering his surroundings.

They sit in deafening silence for a bit.

A bit later tanjiro thanked Daisuke for the rice crackers and his help. He asked if it were okay to take the photo with him. Daisuke had no problem with that. After bidding farewell they continued their journey, unsure what to do next.

After two days of staying at an inn, cluelessly with no idea how to find y/n, inosuke suggests to go to the station from where they got on mugen train.

“If we go to that lord's land and ask the people over there and show this painting of this long haired girl, then some might recognize her.” He had said.

“First of all that's a train station, second it's a photo. How can you still be the same stupid even after 3 years?” zenitsu cringed hard.

“wha—”

“Inosuke’s right zenitsu, we should go there and ask the people over there.” tanjiro said halting the cat and mouse fight which was about to start between the two.

Daisuke had said rengoku was about to meet her before the mission, which means before getting on the mugen train. Even if it is difficult, some locals must have seen even one glance of her.

The next morning, as per inosuke's idea, three of them left for the station.

“Umm excuse me…” said tanjiro, forwarding the photo in front of the local he stopped on his way, “can you tell me if you've seen this girl?”

The man gave a disgusted look at tanjiro. “no I haven't.”

“Ehh? Are you sure you haven—”

“I don't have time for bullshit.” He went off ignoring tanjiro. Strange. People here are less friendly, some even get irritated if stopped on their way.

It's almost lunch time, zenitsu and inosuke had tried to stop the locals as tanjiro asked them about you. It was clear that this ain't ending soon. Especially when they've got nothing good in hand.

“Let's go buy something to eat.”

“YEAH! I'M HECK HUNGRY!!”

“I saw a kid wearing glasses, selling bentos…let's buy some then…she went in that direction.”

Upon seeing the kid, tanjiro asked her to give them three boxes of bentos. It seemed similar to the ones they had three years ago. The girl was about to leave after receiving her payment, but tanjiro's instinct told him to stop her.

“Wait!” The girl turned back to him as zenitsu and inosuke watched him, confused. Tanjiro put his hand inside the sleeves of yukata, taking out the only photo they had of you.

“Have you ever seen this girl around here?”

The girl squinted her eyes behind the round glass frames,“y/n san! Isn't she y/n san…”

Zenitsu’s eyes popped out, he wondered if tanjiro's a mind reader or something, how can he be so quick?

“Yes! You know her? Can you tell us where she lives?” Tanjiro asked desperately.

“She never mentioned that to us…” the girl said frowning her eyebrows.

“Oh…how did you know her then?”

“Well, a demon slayer who saved us three years ago, requested…”

You waited for kyojuro to come. The sun shone brightly above you. The empty roadway started getting crowdy. You've had enough.

“Y/n san. You wanted to see me?” kyojuro had become a hashira now, and amongst his tight schedule he barely had time for you. It's not like you were disappointed, but still…you and kyojuro often talked through phone booths, after you've suggested that casually one day while strolling with him. Last week when he called you, after what felt like years, you said you wanted to meet him soon. ‘fine meet me at the near hinakawa station, I will be waiting.’ he'd said.

Though it was you, waiting for him to come. You've felt distant from him. And you didn't like it.

“I ran away.” You announced looking in his honey drizzled eyes. Though you aren't sure if it were your overthinking but those eyes seemed a bit dull today.

Kyojuro didn't say anything, maybe confused how to interpret your words.

“my family's against us. And I'm against them. I left the old relations to form a new one. With whom I love. Let's get married.” You said taking his hand in yours.

Kyojuro said nothing but wrapped you in his arms. You hugged him tighter, never wanting to let go. “I'm not alone anymore.” He said before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

Yes. You've always wanted to hear these words from his lips. You've wanted to let him know that he's not alone even when he thinks he is. You wanted him to know that there's someone who will always support him even if he's father thinks he has no talent. This was the reason you wrote him letters in first place. This was the reason you let yourself get tangled in a world far different from yours— in the world of kyojuro rengoku.

He left soon saying he will be back after completing a mission. He said he will send someone to you and asked you to wait for him till then. And you agreed gladly. About half an hour later a girl wearing round steel rimmed glasses along with her grandmother appeared.

“Y/n?” You nodded your head at them. “Rengoku sama asked us to keep you safe till he gets back. If you don't mind then you can come home with us.”

You got to know from the grandmother, how the rengokus had saved their lives two times. You've never seen kyojuro fight, but you knew he was hella strong. Still your heart sinks into your stomach whenever he mentions a mission. You've never encountered demons, once you didn't even believed in them, and now here you are nodding at each of those demon tales of the grandmother.

It didn't mattered anyway as long as he comes back safe. You have to wait for a while for him to comeback….after all you weren't done….you still had an important thing to say.

���Then?”

“Then days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, the slayer never made its return. She left eventually, thanking us. We told her to wait for a while more…but she was too stubborn.” said the girl, fixing her specks again.

Tanjiro couldn't believe what he heard. Rengoku had so many things going on in his life. He had more priorities than him and his friends. Someone who was more important. Someone who left her entire family for him.

Yet.

And yet.

He chose to save them sacrificing himself.

He wondered if the you hate him now.

Zenitsu and inosuke were too stunned to speak. All of them were on the verge of crying. To think…that he couldn't return because of them. To think that they played a role in ruining you happiness. That he died saving them.

“She said she was going to asakusa at her friend’s house, named atsuko.”

Tanjiro bowed at the girl, he couldn't manage thanking her, since he knew if he draws one more breath trying to talk, he would break down right there.

The three of them took a train to asakusa after eating those bentos. They looked similar because rengoku had bought the same boxes from that bento girl 3 years ago.

Inosuke was oddly quiet inside the train. The other two also barely chatted before reaching their destination.

Tanjiro had visited asakusa before and he didn't liked that experience very much. Especially the narrow lanes. This time the city looked more developed than before. And it was more crowdy too. They made their way as the girl has previously informed, that atsuko works as a teacher in a big school for aristocrats.

Coincidentally, tanjiro found the same vendor from his last visit. Back then nezuko wasn't able to savor his ramens since she was a demon. He wished he brought her along. They ordered a steaming bowl of ramen, as the vendor was delighted seeing tanjiro again.

“Where that bamboo girl you carried along with you?”

“She's at home right now.”

“Don't give my wife stupid Nicknames.” ,shouted the blonde at the vendor. Tanjiro apologized in his stead as he kept fuming. “So why are you three here all of a sudden? It's been long ain't it?”

“Yeah we're looking for a girl named y/n. She has a friend who teaches in a big school named atsuko.”

“Y/n never heard that sort of peculiar name…”

“are there any big schools in this area, where aristocrats study?”

“Umm…there are a lot of big schools, you could go and ask at the library. There's only one library here and all the school students or teachers borrow books from there. They must know something about that.”

“Oh really! Thankyou very much.”

Without any further do, the three of them went to the public library after eating.

“Woah this is so big.” Tanjiro said.

“It has so many books shall I borrow some for nezuko chan” zenitsu got lost in his dream world. Inosuke was quite whenever he gets in a new environment with a lots of people, so tanjiro didn't bother checking at him.

However, inosuke tugged on tanjiro's yukata pointing at something with his boar mask tugged on his head. Tanjiro could see his eyes popping out.

“What happened tanji—” zenitsu choked on his spit. Tanjiro’s jaw dropped, his mouth open wide. Inosuke was pointing at a picture hung on the wall. Tanjiro took out the photo hurriedly from his sleeves.

There's no mistake. This was indeed the same girl. Underneath the painting was written ‘princess akiko’ in bold letters carved carefully on metal.

“But isn't her name y/n?” Said zenitsu. What's going on? Before tanjiro could say anything, a woman in her twenties bumped into them while rushing.

The photo slipped out from tanjiro’s fingers.

“I'm so sorr—” the women's words halted as she looked at the photo lying on the ground in front of her. She picked it up before tanjiro could.

“Where did you get this picture from?” She asked as if it were a taboo to have this.

“Ahh you know y/n?”

“Y/n?”

“She looks similar to the girl in that painting” the boy with the boar mask declared.

“For the hundredth time inosuke it's a photo.” said zenitsu.

“She doesn't looks like her. She is her. She is princess akiko. The youngest daughter of the imperial family.”

What?

Three of them couldn't believe their ears. “But her name is y/n…” whispered tanjiro in a low voice.

“Just who are you?” She looked at the picture carefully, as if hiding it from the world, “isn't this rengoku?”

“You know rengoku san?”

“That's the man who saved us from a fire incident in an old town. And then became the main reason of the storms in akiko’s life.”

Tanjiro's eyes widened at the mention of the fire incident “Are you atsuko?”

The women nodded, surprised they know her name. Tanjiro, then explained the whole matter.

“I see.”

“This isn't right akiko…you shouldn't have continued writing letters to him in first place.” Atsuko said trying to persuade her not to run away.

“I can't. I can't live here. They will never accept him. And I can't live without him.”

“Akiko, try to understand…rengoku loves y/n.”

“And i am y/n!” The sound of the rain pouring down increased.

“You are princess akiko. Y/n is just a fake name, you created to hide your real identity when decided to write him letters. I supported you then since i thought it was a one time thing.” Atsuko shook the girl's shoulders trying to bring her to the path she considered right.

“But I don't wanna be akiko. I wanna be y/n…y/n rengoku.” Tears fell from the eyes in front of her as sobs escaped her lips.

“You're playing with rengoku’s feelings. Even if you run away, how do you intend to tell him the truth? You can't pretend to be y/n your entire life akiko.”

The girl didn't answered atsuko. That day slowly came to an end along with the rain. And Akiko did run away to rengoku, away from her pointless life, being a puppet in her family's hands.

“She returned a month after she ran away. When I asked him about rengoku she said nothing. Soon her brother came and took her away.” Whispered atsuko in a voice so doleful, that it was clear, it hurted.

“Did rengoku san knew she was a princess?” Zenitsu asked.

“He probably didn't. Akiko's family arranged several politicians later to set her up but she caused such a ruckus that her family gave up at last.”

“Do you know where she is now…i need to deliver this letter to her.” Each word tasted like bile to him. He couldn't even imagine how miserable it had been. You literally rejected a crystal palace only to live a normal life with him. Which didn't even come true. How feverishly would it have hurt? How apathetic fate was…

“She lives in osaka, running an orphanage. You would find her there. Shall I get someone two drive you three over there?”

“That will be very thoughtful of you” said tanjiro.

Atsuko arranged a driver, who would drive them to the orphanage, they expect to find you in. The car ride was even more silent than the train one. Inosuke, even, didn't make any fuss seeing a car for the first time.

‘So this is where princess akiko lives.’ thought tanjiro. The building was similar to butterfly mansion, nothing that luxurious but quite spacious. The driver left soon after dropping them.

They crossed several corridors of children buzzing like bees. Laughter echoed among the hallways. How wonderful of a place for someone who lost their parents. Similar to them. They wondered if they would have grown up in this orphanage if they were born here.

Finally they reached to what seemed like an office. Similar to one shinobu used when researching herbs, the one which kanao uses now. They entered with a knock.

“Y/n san?”

Your head perked up at the name, which once your beloved used to refer. That beloved who never came.

Your heart ached a bit expecting kyojuro. A melancholic smile forms on your face seeing three kids infront of you. Of Course it wasn't him.

“yes?” you said gently, trying not to give in to your emotions.

But tanjiro could smell it. He smelled the intense grief bubbling within you. He could imagine how long you've bottled up your emotions.

Without saying much, he took the letter out of his sleeve placing it on your desk.

“It's been waiting for 3 years.”

“Huh?”

“Rengoku san wanted me to deliver this to you. Sorry this took so long.” your hands froze at his name. Your chest heaved without even you realizing as you grab the letter.

A single drop of tear fell on the spot which had been previously stained with tears. Tears of kyojuro rengoku.

Your fingers shaked tracing your name on the letter. The name which he used to call. Y/n not Akiko.

You teared the seal, taking out a paper. It was filled with words. Words, he never thought he could express on paper.

Dear y/n,

If you're reading this, then I'm sorry. I might have broken my promise of protecting you forever because by the time you read it— I will be dead.

Y/n i wanted to tell you, that I've loved you. I have loved you from the very beginning. Before even I saw you. You were the one who protected the flame in my heart. While others told me to set it ablaze, you made me learn how to keep the flame burning.

You were as beautiful to me as the rising sun. So bright, so clear. You were the epitome of my life. I wanted to live a peaceful life with you, in which my father let's go of his depression. In which your family accepts us. In which we don't have to hide from others. I wanted you to have my surname.

Your words were like the first rain of summer to me. You saved me from quenching my thirst by your words. I have been starved…. starved for so long that I forgot what being hungry for love feels like. Until you came into my life. you healed my heart, handled it as if it's porcelain.

I thought papers were something I would never choose to express myself with. But look at me now. Haha. I don't know why I'm writing it now, but I just feel like, the time’s soon going to be over. And I feel like I will be gone without seeing your face.

Please don't hate me for that.

If I get to spend my life with you I will probably burn this off, but if this letter somehow unfortunately finds you…I want you to know, I gave my best. I gave my very best to save the ones surrounding me. That I fullfilled my duty till the end. So don't feel sad.

I still can't believe you chose to love me. If possible I would like to meet you in another birth, in another universe without demons, where I will be yours, completely yours. You're the best thing that happened to me, y/n. You're just perfect.

But I must say….you’re dumb for choosing a man who bets his life for others, leaving the silver spoon you had in your mouth.

Sadly, our time was limited in this birth. Good bye princess akiko.

~ your kyojuro

The letter fell from your hands. Your lips quivering as you barely contained your tears, which stained the letter.

You just managed a smile at the kids who brought you this letter. He was no more. And you couldn't believe that. He knew you were Akiko not y/n. The truth you weren't able to tell him.

“I'm sorry for making this long. Rengoku san died saving us from a demon, 3 years ago” said tanjiro, tears staining his cheeks. So do the others, barely containing their emotions.

“oh! But i-im glad you all are safe. H-he fulfilled his duties right?”

“Does it hurts?” Tanjiro asked.

“A lot.” And if he wasn't seeing things, he saw rengoku for one second with a silly smile on his face, maybe wondering how to comfort you.

The second he blinked his eyes he was gone. What remained was his letter. Tanjiro handed the photo to you before leaving. He wondered if in another birth he gets to see the both of you reconcile.

He took a deep breath wanting to return to kanao. Maybe he would just ask her to marry him this year. He doesn't want to waste anymore time away from her.

“Where were you?” Asked zenitsu to inosuke, who went missing for a while. They are currently waiting for a train to go back home.

“To buy this.” Inosuke showed a butterfly hair pin decorated with blue crystals. It was beautiful.

“Woah. Who did you buy it for?”

“Aoi.” Tanjiro chuckled at his bluntness, while zenitsu smirked. It's funny how inosuke still gets both of their names incorrect but he never made a mistake in saying aoi’s name correctly. Who knows they might have two weddings…

Now that tanjiro had finally payed off the debt, he wished you happiness as he looked forward to a happier future. He will remember you, not as princess akiko, but as y/n.

“Let's go! I can't wait to see nezuko!!”

“Zenitsu watch out your way!!”

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated | comments are reblogs are appreciated | banners are by me |

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤.

PAIRING | manjiro sano x fem!reader.

CONTENT WARNING | smut, pregnancy, bonten timeline.

NOTE | I know the pregnancy trope isn't everyone's cup of tea and I could see it with the poll, but I had to make a decision 🥲 enjoy! wc: 1,2k

“You’re upset.” Mikey whispered, his voice slightly muffled against your damp hair. "Talk to me."

"I'm not upset." you spoke lowly, staring at your knees that poked out of the water.

Mikey tucked some of your hair behind your ear, placing a lingering kiss to your temple.

"Don't lie to me."

One of his hands moved to rest on your stomach, his thumb beginning to trace random patterns on your bump which was growing more and more each day. You sighed in response to his touch, closing your eyes.

"You know why I'm upset, Mikey." you eventually answered, allowing yourself to relax a bit more in his arms, straightening your legs underwater as the warm water relaxed your muscles.

You remained quiet for a moment then opened your mouth as if to speak, only to pause again. Mikey kissed your cheek to encourage you and after some time, you collected your words.

"I'm just scared." you admitted quietly.

Mikey frowned, waiting for you to continue. "I'm scared that one day I'll wake up to a call from one of your men telling me that you’ve been arrested, injured, or worse. I'm scared that one day i'll have to raise my child alone because you've been taken from me." you explained, releasing a shaky sigh. "I'm just sick of living with the fear that every day we spend together might be the last."

Mikey placed a finger under your chin as you spoke, making you look at him. He wanted to say something but you cut him off before he got the chance.

"You've been playing with fire ever since you pushed Draken away all those years ago. He was the only one capable of keeping you on the right track." you said, marking a pause as you stared into his tired eyes. "You're digging your own grave Mikey, and it's only a matter of time before someone puts a bullet in your head." You snapped, freeing your chin from his grip and turning your head to stare at the water again.

Silence fell over the room at the mention of Draken, a soft sigh leaving Mikey's lips while you closed your eyes again to try to rid your mind of the toxic thoughts.

You eventually broke the silence after a moment, swallowing to hold back the lump in your throat. Your hand came to rest on your belly, hoping to feel a kick from your baby to bring yourself some comfort.

"I'm sorry." you mumbled, choking up. "I... I shouldn't have said that. It's just, I don't know what I'd do if—"

"Shh." Mikey interrupted your rambling, a quiet sound of surprise escaping your lips as he guided your jaw and leaned down to kiss you. When you parted from the kiss, a tear had rolled down your cheek. "It's alright." Mikey murmured. "Nothing's gonna happen to me. I promise."

"Let's run away, Manjiro." you said,completely dismissing him and turning slightly so you could look at him, reaching out to place a hand on his cheek. "Let's move to Europe, or America. Somewhere new. Away from trouble, away from everything we know. Just you, me, and the baby." you begged.

Mikey inhaled deeply. There's a chance he was getting frustrated with this conversation, but you didn't care. You had every right to be upset, scared even.

"You know that's not possible." he said, his right hand trailing lower down your stomach. You were about to protest but Mikey cut you off with a kiss, probably to shut you up. You sighed against his mouth and jerked slightly in surprise as his hand dipped between your legs, his middle and ring finger finding your clit and rubbing it in circles. He set a slow, sensual pace, his main goal being to relax you. Almost out of instinct you spread your legs until your knees hit the sides of the tub, granting him easier access.

"Now be a good girl and stop worrying so much, hm...? I know what i'm doing." he murmured, your soft whimpers and sighs of appreciation prompting him to continue. You began to squirm, your hands gripping onto his arms. "I won't get arrested, I won't get injured, I won't die. You're not getting rid of me anytime soon."

You know he's lying. Mikey doesn't have everything under control like he claims he does — far from it. He's exhausted. He's sad. He's distant. He's only saying this because he wants to be done with this conversation and he doesn't want you to worry.

You released a shaky breath, reaching behind your shoulder to tangle your fingers in his silver hair, deciding not to say anything. You gasped when he slipped a finger inside of you, his thumb simultaneously flicking the bundle of nerves between your thighs.

“So beautiful.” Mikey whispered to himself, pushing in another finger. You began to squirm, the movement causing you to slide a few inches down into the water. "Do you have any idea how long I've dreamed of seeing you pregnant?” Mikey whispered in your ear, pausing to take your lobe between his teeth and nibble gently, “To finally see this beautiful bump. I can't wait for it to be all big and swollen from my baby growing inside of it."

“God— Mikey.” you breathed out, your hips instinctively lifting as his fingers rubbed calculated circles into your clit.

“Fuck, say my name again.”

You did as you were told, his name leaving your lips in a whimper. Mikey's free hand moved upwards and cupped your breast, his thumb toying with your erect nipple. You arched your back further, your lips parting as you panted and moaned, the water beginning to splash over the edge of the bathtub. Mikey's erection was pressing against your back, the friction caused by your squirming making him groan.

"Don't stop," you cried out, grabbing his arm that was wrapped around your body and digging your nails into his skin. "Oh fuck, Mikey, right there," you moaned loudly, your eyes fluttering shut as the pressure built up in your belly, your walls clenching around his fingers. Your hand fisted in his hair and you tilted your head to kiss him, muffling your moans that were getting louder by the minute. He pumped his fingers and rubbed your clit until you were a whimpering mess underneath him, begging and pleading for him not to stop, as if he would anyway.

“Come for me, princess. Wanna make you feel good.” He whispered softly against your lips. You moaned loudly as your orgasm took over, your back arching away from his chest and legs spreading as far as they'll go while Mikey pumped you through your high, never relenting until you slowly came down.

He eventually removed his fingers, using them to circle your clit a couple more times before bringing his hand back to your belly and kissing the side of your head lovingly.

The sudden absence of sound left your ears ringing, only heavy panting and the gentle pitter-patter of waterdrops touching the water filling the air. You started to relax again in Mikey's arms, you body thoroughly spent.

The two of you stayed wrapped up in each other for a while despite the water having turned cold, enjoying the rare moment of intimacy you were currently sharing, not wanting to let go just yet.

[beneathashadytree]

HEY GUYS! LONG POST HERE, BUT PLEASE READ🙏🏽

I am genuinely appalled by the discourse ongoing in the LNDS fandom these past few days—but above all, I am severely disappointed in what had started out as one of the most inclusive and sweet fandoms I’ve ever been in. I have a few things to say, so in this post I’m trying to put all my thoughts to words. Apologies if I sound harsh, but I’m genuinely livid. Also, please ignore any typos. I’m not wearing my glasses while word-vomiting.

First off, for a fandom that is composed of mostly adults, you guys have been acting terribly childishly. It’s 2024, and yet people are still unironically shaming others for “switching up on their favs” as if a person owes 2D characters any loyalty. Let people enjoy things. The novelty of Sylus and how he’s quite literally 6 months behind the other 3 love interests makes people want to catch up on the enjoyment of him all at once. He’s still such a brand new character and concept, so there’s no wonder everyone’s hyped up over him.

I’ve seen people get genuinely mad at other players and writing whole think-pieces about this. I promise you guys, the company making this game is still benefiting whether you’re pouring your money into Sylus or any one of the previous 3. We’re all happy to have an interesting character pop up among the roster now, and we’re taking our time getting to know him. Doesn’t make any of the first 3 any less loved. I genuinely don’t remember this amount of nastiness when solo events for each of the guys used to drop.

In fact, if the popularity thing is worrying you, going off MLQC (the company’s past game) the character who was last added was—eventually, after the initial hype died down—kicked off to the sidelines in most major events and was given the least content, and was the least favorite of fans.

Secondly, and this has my blood boiling, there is an insane amount of entitlement and rudeness I’ve seen on my timeline concerning how people characterize the men—particularly Rafayel.

Absolutely nothing warrants this shitty attitude towards other creators for how they depict characters in their fics. It seems you guys feel protected behind a screen and think it gives you the right to bully strangers online. Fanfiction is for fantasizing about your favs; for letting your imagination run wild. If this were a character analysis, then yes, maybe I’d agree that inaccuracies are aggravating. However, in fanfiction, there are zero rules, especially when it comes to smut.

Sexual preferences are not equivalent to a person’s whole personality—so whether he’s written as a dom, a sub, a switch, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, this has nothing to do with his kindness, gentlemanliness, passion, power, ruthlessness, snark, or whatever minuscule aspect of his character makes up his lovely whole and matters to you.

I think this circles back to a lack of ability to separate sexual matters and personality, because how else do people interpret fics depicting him in a certain manner as them erasing his character? They might overlap, but they can very well be mutually exclusive. I’ve seen incredibly sweet and gentle men irl who were absolute doms in bed, and I’ve seen powerful and passionate men who were reduced to tears between the sheets. There is barely any correlation whatsoever, and if anything, claiming otherwise is what I consider piss-poor media literacy and reading-comprehension.

My third point is that for some reason, there have been many, many posts and replies on here where I’ve seen people just straight-up spread pure hate for the characters. Maybe this bothered me in particular because I’m an OT3 (OT4 now!) and absolutely adore all of them, but I find no logical reason for “yucking someone’s yum” when we’re talking about liking the characters of an Otome game—a genre of video games which is made to literally cater to the tastes of as many people as possible.

It’s especially disheartening to see when it’s at a time like this, when new content is about to drop, and you find in the replies of every other post/discussion at least a few people spewing hate and disgust at Sylus. Again, so many people are incredibly excited about him. Why is there a need to rain on everyone’s parade, especially in such an unsolicited manner?

This fandom originally started as a safe space for people of all races, backgrounds, genders, sexualities, and personalities to bond over our mutual love for characters. All I’ve seen on my TL lately (in terms of discussion) is negativity, and it’s such a fucking let-down. I hope whatever the fuck has happened to this fandom cools down after a bit. It’s probably exaggerated and very in-your-face rn, cause more and more people are downloading LNDS, so the probabilities of finding people being nasty are increasing. But I seriously don’t want to grow to resent this fandom and find myself distancing myself from it to protect my peace.

Let’s all remember to be kind towards other players, to not act entitled or bratty about the characters, and to try and mind our own business if we see content that doesn’t suit our tastes.

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part Eleven

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader Summary: You volunteer to babysit Mayday last minute. Miguel, Mayday, and you have dinner. Miguel shares a part of his past with you. Word Count: 25,585 Warnings: I reviewed this twice but I may have missed some errors as I really wanted to update!; mention of verbal and physical abuse; emotional child neglect; mention of rapture and addiction; mention of testing on humans; marital issues; mention of insecurity about physical appearance/features; questioning of self-worth; someone gets hit in the head but nothing serious; fluff then angst, then fluff again; translations for Spanish terms included at the end; I think that's everything without giving too many spoilers. Short A/N: I just wanted to clear up that this part takes place several months before the Thanksgiving drabble. This part takes place sometime in late May, early June - two months after Miguel's incident. So, that's the timeline if you read that drabble, which is not necessary to read! Thank you! Previous Part Masterlist

Part Eleven

“Bye, guys! Thank you for dinner again,” Gwen says with a wave. 

“Thank you for dinner! See you guys on Monday!” Miles calls out with a wave of his own. 

“Bye, you guys be careful,” Peter B. calls out, raising his entire arm to wave goodbye at the two spiderlings.

“Bye, guys!” you say, looking up from what you’re doing to see Miles and Gwen just as a portal opens up.

“Bye!” they call out and with that, they head out through the portal.

You continue to help Mary Jane and Peter B. clean up. It’s Friday evening and everyone has called it a night already due to exhaustion from either school or their duties as superheroes, or both. Peter B. and you are putting away leftovers from dinner as Mary Jane takes care of other things. The sound of her ringtone startles the three of you but elicits a laugh from Mayday. You chuckle at her laugh and shake your head as Mary Jane picks up her phone. 

“It’s our babysitter. Let me take their call. I’ll be right back,” she says with a little frown, hoping it’s not bad news as she heads to one of the bedrooms to let Peter and you talk in peace, yet you can hear her soft voice even from the kitchen. “Hey, how are you doing? I’m doing well, thank you… Oh, I see. Yeah, no, it’s alright. I understand things pop up… Yes, don’t worry. Peter and I will figure something out. Thank you for letting me know and I hope everything goes well. Thank you. You, too. Bye-bye!”

You keep putting food away even as Peter leaves your side, heading towards the bedrooms. Despite your best efforts to give privacy to the couple, you can hear Peter and Mary Jane talking quietly now.

“Don’t worry, honey, we’ll figure something out. There’s plenty of time, right?” 

“Peter… It’s very late. Where are we going to find a babysitter on such short notice? We can’t go. We’re going to have to cancel unfortunately. I’ll let Hailey know we won’t be able to make it.”

You finish putting away the last thing before you wipe the counter clean, trying to help the Parkers as much as possible after they hosted dinner.

“I’m sorry, honey.”

“It’s alright, Peter. There’s always next time, right?”

Peter and Mary Jane step out of the bedroom, each giving you a sad smile. You smile back, thinking after hearing some of their conversation unintentionally, since there’s only so much the thin walls of an apartment can block out. 

“Is everything alright?” you ask. 

Peter B. smiles softly and tilts his head side to side. “Our babysitter unfortunately canceled on us for tomorrow.” 

You frown and nod, remembering they mentioned having an event tomorrow that’s three hours outside their city and unfortunately Mayday cannot attend. You finish wiping their counter, thinking and then smile. 

“I can babysit Mayday.”

That catches both of their attentions. 

“Oh no, Y/N. We appreciate it but it’s so last minute and you probably have plans already,” Mary Jane says.

You shake your head. “I don’t have any plans and I don’t mind looking after Mayday, really.”

“Y/N… MJ is right. This is too sudden. We appreciate it but it’s alright,” Peter B. adds.

“I seriously don’t mind. Plus, Mayday likes me,” you say with a small smile. “I’d love to babysit her, seriously. Just leave everything we’ll need and any special instructions. We’ll be alright, I promise.” 

“Mayday doesn’t like you, she loves you!” Peter says with a smile. “But are you sure?”

You nod once again. “Yes, I’m sure! I can come here and pick her up or I can stay here, however you like, just let me know. We’ll be good and you guys can go and enjoy yourselves.” 

After a few more minutes of reassuring the Parkers that babysitting is no problem, you have solid plans to babysit Mayday for Saturday not remembering that you do, in fact, have plans, at least for the evening. 

It has been two months since Miguel’s incident and ever since that first weekend that he invited you to dinner to thank you for looking after him, you’ve been having dinner at each other’s place every weekend, rotating from his place to your place each Saturday. It has become a part of your routines and the two of you attend dinner each Saturday without failure, yet you still remind each other about it with a simple “Dinner still on for tomorrow?” to confirm.

You cannot deny the fact that you love Saturdays for that reason alone. It gives you something to look forward to during the week and there’s also the fact that you enjoy spending time with Miguel outside of HQ and at each other’s places instead, where you can talk freely without possible distractions or interruptions or the lingering gazes of others. Plus, it brings you great satisfaction to know that these dinners mean that he’s not working through the entire weekend like he used to. You know he still goes to HQ in the mornings to check up on things, which you expected. You have a feeling he might never fully stop doing this as the leader of the Spider Society, unless something down the line changes his mind of course but for now, it’s great relief to know he spends his afternoons in his home at least. 

Despite confirming with Miguel earlier before you left HQ for the day, you forget in the moment as all you want to do is help out Peter and Mary Jane. You get back home and prep your place a bit as an attempt to make it safer for Mayday, even though you know it is a lot harder to keep up with her these days with her swinging everywhere. Once you feel satisfied with your place, you go to bed early to catch some sleep, knowing that tomorrow might be a long day. 

★★★

The next morning you wake up early and do some more preparations as you wait for Peter B. to drop off Mayday. He eventually arrives, making several trips to retrieve items as Mayday will be spending the entire day with you, including the night. Even though you insisted on staying at their place, the Parkers decided that it was only fair for you to stay in your universe since you were helping them at the last minute. They said they wanted you to feel comfortable at your own  home. So, you spend the morning and early afternoon with Mayday lounging around your apartment. 

You stick to the schedule the Parkers gave you, making sure that Mayday is comfortable under your care. You feed her during the assigned times, entertain her with toys Peter brought, put her to nap when she’s ready, and all the other little things to keep her safe and comfortable, not noticing the way your apartment has slowly been taken over by her items. It’s not until you lay Mayday for a nap that you stop and look around. There are visible traces of a child in your apartment, something you’re not used to. In fact, you come to the realization that Mayday is the only child that has ever been to your apartment. Back in the day when you hosted parties or dinners with your old friends, no one had children yet and on the family side, neither Peter nor you were close to other relatives that had kids, so there were never any children at your apartment.  

The sight of Mayday’s items scattered around your apartment leads your mind to other thoughts, like how your Peter wanted kids. You had typical worries about having children whenever the topic came up in the early days when the two of you were still in college, given you understood how big of a responsibility a child is. However, your worries were always soothed by Peter. You knew he’d be there with you all throughout it and besides, you could already tell he’d be a great father one day. With a sigh, you silently think about how that’s no longer a possibility. You will never see your Peter become a father or grow old, the way the two of you once envisioned. 

As you pick up around the apartment, you recall those conversations you’d have with him late at night. He’d hold you against his chest while his thumb brushed over your knuckles. His body heat engulfed you in the most pleasant way, and he’d do it to warm you up because he knew you grew cold sometimes. 

“Can you imagine - a little you or a little me running around? Not here in this apartment. Somewhere bigger where we’ll have more space. Like that place a few blocks from here,” he’d whisper. 

You’d smile, knowing exactly what place. “The place with three bedrooms and the lovely view.” 

“That one. One bedroom for us. One bedroom for each child.” 

“So you want two kids?” 

“I - Let’s skip that question,” he’d say with a small grin. “Just imagine for now two kids. Two kids and walks to the park so they can play. Trips to the bookstore because if their mom likes to read, surely one of them will pick up the habit. And a bigger apartment means we can have more bookcases. You’ve always wanted a little library, so we’ll have that there. You can go on patrols at night, and we’ll wait for you for bedtime. I’ll tell them stories about Spider-Woman and how I’m the biggest fan,” he’d say, causing you to laugh in the darkness of your shared bedroom. 

“You might have to tone it down or they might start thinking you have a crush on her just like our friends believe. Besides, it’d be a while before we could tell them about my superhero identity.”

“Oh, I know, darling. We don’t want to get calls from their school that they’re claiming mom is Spider-Woman. And hey, it’s not my fault our friends think I have a crush on Spider-Woman.” 

“Well, buying all that merch doesn’t help,” you’d say smiling, turning to face him at last. “Or the way you jump in her defense - or my defense - every time someone says something negative.”

“Alright, alright. Maybe I need to tone it down but you have to admit it’s pretty funny how they try to get you to feel jealous. If only they knew that Spider-Woman herself is my girlfriend,” he’d reply before kissing your forehead. “I’ll try to tone it down for the kids though.”

You’d laugh, shaking your head in disbelief, finding the moment endearing nonetheless as you imagined a future that is no longer possible. You clear your throat and carry on organizing your place until Mayday wakes up. It’s all going well until close to dinner time when you remember. 

“Shoot,” you mutter as you reach for your gizmo, carrying Mayday.

You quickly send a message to Miguel, letting him know you can’t make it to dinner. The sudden change of plans alarms Miguel, who instantly asks if everything is alright before he requests a live hologram. His hologram appears over your gizmo once you approve the request, making it easy for Miguel to put together what’s happening. He sees Mayday wrapped around your body and that you’re at your apartment on your own.

“Hey, I’m so sorry for having to cancel dinner so suddenly. Peter and Mary Jane’s babysitter canceled on them at the last minute last night and I offered to look after her today,” you inform him.

Miguel nods, watching as you hold Mayday.

“Right, I think I heard Peter mention something about an event this weekend,” Miguel says, recalling bits and pieces from Peter telling him about it but he wasn’t paying too much attention at the time because Lyla had just told him you were back from a mission. 

“Yeah, it’s about two hours outside of the city or something like that and Mayday couldn’t go, so I offered to look after her for the day. Please forgive me for just letting you know. I can’t believe I just remembered,” you say, truly feeling sorry. “I was caught up trying to make the apartment safer for her and then you know babysitting,” you add, giving Miguel an apologetic smile.

“Keeping her safe is already a hard task,” he replies, smiling softly as he recalls how hard it was for Peter to keep track of her a year ago when she had less movement, now it’s twice as hard.

“She’s done very well so far, thankfully,” you reply with a relieved smile as Mayday plays with a Spider-Ham plushie, still holding on to you.

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad it has been going well.” Miguel pauses for a few seconds as he looks at something in his dimension. As he looks away, you notice the way he’s dressed. The sight of him in normal clothes is a much more familiar sight to you these days since you see him like this every Saturday. In fact, you’ve started to pick up on his style, which has been fun to see since you’ve always found his dimension’s fashion interesting from the beginning. Miguel turns back to the gizmo at last, with a thoughtful look on his face. “I have dinner ready but I know you probably don’t want to leave your apartment with Mayday.”

You nod. “Kind of? I just - I’m not used to doing this. I mean, I play with her and look after her sometimes for short periods of time at HQ or at her universe with either Peter or MJ around but nothing like this on my own. Plus, I’d be bringing her over to your place and… I don’t know if you’d be okay with that and even if you are, your place is so much larger than mine.”

“More ways for her to get hurt and more space for us to cover if she decides to evade us,” Miguel says, fighting the urge to smile at the fact that you’ve thought of everything. “I see what you mean… I can pack everything and meet you at your place, if you still want to have dinner, of course. Or I can drop off some food for you regardless.” 

Even though you’d like to have dinner with him, you start to protest because that would mean making Miguel go through the hassle of packing food and then traveling here with everything but he stops you before you even really begin. “I don’t mind and I made food for two people anyway. Just let me know and I’ll pack everything.” 

After a few seconds of hesitation, you nod and smile. “If it’s not too much hassle for you, I’ll wait for you here to have dinner.” 

Miguel smiles back and nods. “It’s not a hassle. I’ll see you in a few minutes then.” 

You say goodbye and the live hologram call ends. You quickly make sure your kitchen area is cleared up for Miguel before looking around your apartment once again. It’s clean and organized, though there are a few items here and there that belong to Mayday that have been used since you last cleaned up during one of her naps. Besides that, your apartment is presentable. You hold Mayday, who is blabbing to her toy, and take in your apartment. It’s been two months and every time you look around, you can’t help but still feel awe with how different the place looks. 

You moved your furniture around after deciding that a new layout was needed. You also replaced some furniture like your coffee table and its old decorations. Your eyes fall on your couch, the one that you’ve found yourself sitting on more and more these days since you’ve started to get back into reading. Other times, you sit to watch some TV or when you host your friends over, including Miguel. 

You’ve even added new cozy chairs, which have really brought the place together. Your eyes turn to the wall with photographs. Even though it has been two months since you changed it, you’ve added new photos here and there over the weeks, like the one of Miguel and you working on your new bookshelf, which makes you feel amusement now that you recall that day. You were excited to build it since you had your previous one for years. You had it for so long that the middle of the shelves were dented, making you wonder how it hadn’t given up on you with so many books but thankfully it didn’t. You remember Miguel finding it amusing that you were so excited about it but your excitement quickly faded when building it became a struggle.

You were both dismayed when you realized that the instructions were gibberish but thankfully after some trial and error, the two of you pulled through. Now, the bookshelf sits in another area of your living room, organized differently but still storing your books and other decorations, like gifts you’ve received over the years as Spider-Woman. You turn back to the photo, taken by Lyla of course, of Miguel and you on the floor assembling your bookcase. You chuckle softly as you take in Miguel’s frowning and pouting captured in the photo. You swear you’ve never heard him curse as much as he did that day. His string of curses in Spanish were repeatedly followed by apologies to you for cursing in your presence, even after you told him you didn’t mind the first time. You recall trying not to chuckle because you found his reaction sweet each time he realized he was cursing again. At last, after some food and a few more strings of curses from Miguel, the bookshelf was assembled and now it looks all pretty in your living room. 

Looking at the bookshelf, your eyes move to Peter’s record player which is now placed next to  it. Even when you were looking through your furniture back then to see what needed to be replaced, you knew his record player was going to stay. It’s something you will always keep with you, no matter what happens. You glance at the vinyl records, realizing it has been a while since you’ve played anything. 

“How about some music, Mayday?” you ask, looking down at her. She seems to nod, so you walk over to the record player and bend down with Mayday to give her a view of Peter's collection. “Alright, I’ll let you choose since you’re my special guest this weekend. Let’s see… Billie Holiday - hm, no not her. Not now anyway, right?” 

You scan the spines of the vinyl records, failing to notice that Mayday is getting ready to engage her web shooters that Peter B. made for her. She startles you when she shoots a web, pulling a vinyl record off the shelf your Peter kept them stored in. You sigh in relief after you catch it just in time before she hits herself with it or the record gets damaged. “I guess this is your choice, hm?” you say as you eye it. “How did you know the girl on the cover has red hair, too?” you ask amused, which makes Mayday laugh. “Alright, this one then.”

You put the record on with Mayday’s full attention, seemingly interested in the process, and hum to her as the music starts playing. You grab Mayday’s free hand, since she’s still holding on to her Spider-Ham plushie, and move along as if you were dancing with her. 

“And love is when you try to make it out alive but you can’t turn the radio down and you can’t think of anyone else,” you quietly sing to Mayday, dancing with her while being careful. You start to do a little spin but pause halfway when your eyes land on Miguel. He stands about twelve feet away from you holding a large reusable bag in one hand and your sweatshirt in the other. Your abrupt pause makes Mayday giggle before she starts waving her toy around excitedly, apparently having a great time. Meanwhile, you feel heat on your cheeks as you make eye contact with Miguel, who looks like he’s holding back from chuckling based on how his lips twitch. You end up smiling and hold Mayday closer, figuring it’s too late to play it off anyway.

“A mini dance party was also scheduled for Mayday?” Miguel asks at last, trying to hold back from chuckling for your sake as he can see your embarrassment from being caught dancing and singing. 

You shrug with a sheepish smile. “Something like that.”

Miguel grins at last. “Well… don’t stop on my behalf. I’ll set up while you two finish the song,” Miguel says, unable to stop himself from teasing you a little bit as he places your sweatshirt over your couch before turning to your kitchen. He carefully sets the bag on the counter and starts taking out containers with food, smiling to himself now that his back is to you.

You stand there, feeling hot in the face while Mayday is still having the time of her life waving around her Spider-Ham plushie to the music. You sigh quietly and approach Miguel to help, still holding Mayday.

“I’ll get the plates,” you say as you enter the kitchen, retrieving them quickly and setting them on the counter before grabbing utensils, too. 

While you do that, Miguel watches you as he starts taking off the containers’ lids, taking notice of the way you hold Mayday, and how at ease you look with her. He also notes how comfortable Mayday looks with you, though he’s not surprised. He looks away and continues to set up the food, silently wondering once again if at this point in your life you’d have children of your own if Peter was alive. He has thought about it before, back in the infirmary two months ago when he realized that you probably wouldn’t have been there with him if Peter was alive. For some reason, he believes that you’d be married by now, at least. He can’t help but think about children now though, as you hold Mayday with such care. He has seen you with her before but not quite like this in the comfort of your home as you move around your kitchen, where the gesture feels more personal. He silently tells himself to put away those thoughts as he places the containers’ lids away and pulls out a travel pitcher with agua de jamaica. Ever since you made it for him during his recovery, he has been making a fresh pitcher every few days as needed since you rekindled his love for it. 

Upon seeing the pitcher, you retrieve glasses and also remember to grab napkins. You set everything before you ask Miguel what kind of utensils will be needed to serve the food but he shows you a set he brought along. You smile softly, seeing how prepared he came. Miguel also retrieves a large thermos filled with café de olla and a bag of pan dulce. Along with Saturday dinners becoming a normal thing for the two of you, Miguel has made café de olla and pan dulce a tradition. No matter who hosts dinner, the hot and rich liquid along with the sweet bread are always present for after dinner. So, Miguel places both items on the counter carefully, making sure not to squish the pan dulce with other things before he starts serving food for the two of you. 

Shortly after, the two of you are sitting side by side eating while Mayday sits on her high chair, also brought by Peter because the Parkers wanted to make sure you had everything you needed to make babysitting Mayday a good experience, next to you. You take a small spoonful of food made by MJ to her mouth, making sure to pick up the bits of food that slip out of her mouth carefully. You gently clean her mouth before you turn to Miguel, who seems to have been watching Mayday and you.

“Thank you for dinner and for bringing it here. You really didn’t have to go through all that trouble,” you tell him with a soft smile. 

“Well, I was already done and besides, as soon as you told me you were babysitting, I figured dinner would be one less thing for you to worry about,” Miguel says with a small smile, gazing at Mayday for a few seconds before his eyes meet yours again. 

“It was last minute. I was helping MJ and Peter clean up after dinner when their babysitter called to tell her they were canceling. I could tell they really wanted to go and I got so caught up in the moment with trying to help them that today’s dinner slipped my mind. I’m really sorry for the sudden change,” you apologize but Miguel shakes his head gently. 

“Don’t apologize. You just wanted to help Peter and MJ. It’s very kind of you to help them out,” he says before he takes a drink from his glass.

“I’m just glad they could go. I could tell they really wanted to attend but at the same time they seemed bummed this morning. You should’ve seen Peter. He looked so sad. He said it’s the first time MJ and him are spending the night away from Mayday but at the same time they really wanted to attend this event. I can only imagine their conflicting emotions.”

Miguel nods, surprised to hear that you’re looking after Mayday for the night, too. He thought it was only for the day. “Yeah, I can imagine it’s conflicting,” Miguel says, not really sharing that experience with MJ and Peter. The longest time he spent away from Gabriella was when she was in school but he does recall feeling somewhat sad when she was away, even though she was always so happy to go. Miguel smiles softly at the memories, recalling how he never had any issues with Gabriella doing her homework or not wanting to go to school. His gaze turns to Mayday before he returns it to you. “So, Mayday is spending the night, then?” 

You nod. “Yes. Peter will be back in the morning but so far it’s going to be us two, right, Mayday?” you say as you offer her another spoonful of food. 

Miguel watches the interaction, smiling softly as Mayday happily eats her food, even trying to grasp the spoon on her own. He watches for a few more seconds before he replies. 

“She seems to be more than happy with this arrangement.” 

You clean Mayday’s mouth and chuckle. “It seems so. We’ve been doing great so far but I’m a little worried about her sleeping. Peter and MJ said she sleeps through the night without trouble but I’m a bit worried the different environment might be an issue.”

“I think… She’ll sleep peacefully. She likes you and seems comfortable here in your apartment. If she wasn’t, she’d make you aware of it. It’ll be alright,” Miguel states with a reassuring tone, making you smile. 

“I really hope so. If not, I guess I can always just travel to their home to soothe her,” you answer, feeling more confident now thanks to Miguel’s words. 

“You can do that and if I can be of any help, let me know,” Miguel adds softly without thinking, not realizing that he’s offering to help you look after Mayday. After losing Gabriella, being around children has been hard for Miguel, so he has never offered Peter and MJ to look after her.

Now, he’s here offering to help to look after Mayday because of you. Miguel looks away with a small and embarrassed smile, wondering if he should count this as part of his progress. Ever since he almost died, he’s been trying just like he said he would by making small changes. The major change has been his sleeping schedule. He’s sleeping better than he has in years thanks to the sound of your breathing and your scent from your sweatshirts. Both things help him immensely, so much that he falls asleep within minutes of climbing in bed. He still has nightmares sometimes, but for the first time in a long time, he can count with his hands the number of times he’s had them over the last two months.

With less nightmares, Miguel now has pleasant dreams more often, which were practically nonexistent before. These dreams consist of Gabriella and Gabriel, with his mom and wife making appearances sometimes. Then, there’s you. You’ve slowly started to make appearances in his dreams, too, in which you interact with Gabriel and Gabriella the most. He hasn’t told you about them. One day he will though. He will tell you how he’s seen you playing dolls with Gabriella and that she always wants to show you every doll she owns. He will also share how Gabriel, you, and him have had café de olla together in his penthouse, and that just like he told you a few months back, Gabriel likes you a lot and has befriended you in his dreams. One day he will tell you but not yet. 

Another small change in Miguel’s life is his work schedule. He returns home most nights at a reasonable time from HQ. The latest he stays now is usually seven, which gives him plenty of time to make dinner because yes, he has also begun to have regular and homemade meals. On the weekends, he only shows up in the mornings to make sure everything is fine before returning home. He’s also tried to be more friendly with the others like your friends, though he still finds it difficult. He has found himself calling Miles “mijo” more often these days though, something that still surprises Miles each time. 

Then, there’s your shared dinners each Saturday. It started with him wanting to express his gratitude to you for everything you did for him when he was hurt, and you ended up inviting him for dinner the following Saturday when he offered café de olla with pan dulce. That Saturday rolled around and he found himself going out early that morning to the Mexican store to buy fresh pan dulce. He bought several pieces to give you options, hoping that you’d love the other types since you really liked the conchas you had back on Dia de Los Muertos night and made the coffee that you seemed to love so much. He brought a thermos and the bag of pan dulce with him that day to your universe and after having a wonderful meal made by you, the two of you enjoyed the coffee and pan dulce. By the end of the night, before he even knew it, Miguel was inviting you for dinner at his place again the next weekend. Now, having dinner with you is part of his routine and though he hasn’t said it out loud yet, Miguel looks forward to it each week. 

He looks forward to it so much that when it’s his turn to cook, he starts thinking about what he’ll cook days in advance. He goes through different dishes in his mind, wondering which ones you’d like the most before he decides on one. 

Miguel wishes he could tell you how much he enjoys them directly. It gives him something to look forward to and much like you, he enjoys spending time with you outside of HQ, where the two of you can talk about anything and everything without anyone interrupting, something that happens often and that Miguel dislikes since he finds it annoying. Miguel knows the changes in his life so far are small but nonetheless, Miguel feels happy about them. He knows he has a long road ahead of him but it’s progress, and he feels satisfied with how he’s approaching his healing journey so far. He knows and understands that there are certain things he might never fully be able to move past or that some days will be harder than others but it fills him with great gratitude and solace to know that he’ll have someone to count on when those days come around. You. 

You smile at Miguel after he offers to help out with Mayday, noticing the embarrassed smile, which makes you wonder but you don’t ask. There’s also the fact that you know Miguel seems to struggle with Mayday around sometimes, so him offering to help warms your heart. “Thank you. Hopefully it’s not necessary but I appreciate the offer,” you reply at last. 

Miguel nods, lifting his glass for a drink. “Always.” 

The three of you continue eating dinner. Mayday happily eats her food and babbles some words here and there, which makes Miguel and you chuckle. The conversation is light and like always, you talk about anything and everything, like how you caught an anomaly on Tuesday and how Spider-Cat and Spider-Wolf had a little feud at the cafeteria on Thursday. You eventually find yourself sitting next to Miguel on your couch with Mayday on your lap. You look at the clock on the wall, noticing the time and remembering that Mayday’s bedtime is in two hours.

You play with Mayday’s hair for a bit before you reach in a bag that MJ and Peter packed for her, and retrieve a hairbrush. You gently brush her hair, noticing she has a few knots here and there probably from her swinging around your apartment earlier. Miguel sits next to you, watching and responding to Mayday as she makes the attempt to talk but the simple action reminds him of the times he brushed Gabriella’s hair. He looks away slowly, remembering this is why he’s tried to avoid being around kids for so long, yet his gaze returns. Such a simple action reminds him of his short time with Gabriella and yet, he wants to keep watching. Miguel can’t help but continue to find the way you treat Mayday with such care so endearing, and then there’s little Mayday, who seems perfectly at ease with you. Miguel is torn between watching and not watching but in the end, his gaze remains fixed on you and Mayday as you continue to brush her hair. You take your time doing this, especially because Mayday’s hair has grown a lot over the last year, so you have a lot more to brush. Meanwhile, Mayday sits comfortably on your lap with her plushie until she offers it to Miguel with a grin. 

Miguel smiles gently and hesitantly accepts it, looking at the Spider-Ham plushie with amusement. You keep brushing Mayday’s hair, obviously noticing the little interaction. Despite finding it cute, you keep your attention on the task at hand. You don’t want to make Miguel uncomfortable or make the moment end too soon, since you’ve hardly seen him interact with Mayday. You obviously know the reason behind it, which is why you’re pretending not to see it, though you hope that these small interactions help Miguel a little. You also can’t deny that a small part of you is enjoying this because you’re seeing a short live glimpse of that side of him, meaning his fatherly side. There are subtle signs of this side of him but nothing quite like this. You can see it in how there are dorms at HQ for members to sleep at or the free food at the cafeteria, along with other resources that are typically welcomed by younger members that need them.

You’ve thought about Miguel as a father a few times in the past, especially when you know so much of his life back then and the things he did for Gabriella. You weren’t there for it but just based on the way he talks about her and the different memories he has shared with you, you know he was an amazing father. Sometimes, you can’t help but wish you were there during that time so you could’ve seen that side of him in person. You wish you could’ve seen his full smiles and heard his laughter, perhaps from him sharing something funny that Gabriella said or did. You wish you could’ve seen him when he was happy. 

Unfortunately, Miguel’s life changed. Gabriella and his wife are no longer here, so your wishes are impossible now but if you could, you would give anything to see him with his family. Perhaps that means that you wouldn’t be close with him like you are now because you’d be experiencing different things but you’d give this up in a heartbeat if he could have Gabriella and his wife back at least. 

You smile sadly to yourself as you brush Mayday’s hair, knowing very well that if Miguel hadn’t lost his wife and Gabriella, he wouldn’t be here now. It’s a Saturday, and you can only imagine that he’d definitely be with them, out for dinner. You can almost picture them at some restaurant, maybe Gabriella’s favorite place to eat, celebrating the win of her soccer match at this very moment. You most likely wouldn’t be friends but… Yes, you’d give this up in a heartbeat if it meant Miguel would have his family back. If it meant that he’d be happy again. Yes, you would do it, even if the mere thought of your friendship not existing triggers a deep sadness that leaves you breathless for a second. You would do it. For Miguel. For his happiness. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel something soft hit the side of your head, making you close your eyes in surprise. You open them again and lean back, just as Mayday moves her arm down after hitting you with her plush. You look over at Miguel, who looks like he’s trying to hold back from smiling. The sight makes you forget your line of thinking from just seconds ago.

“I think that’s her cue that she’s done with the hair brushing,” you mutter, smiling a bit and finishing up with her hair. 

You look over at Miguel again, noticing the amusement in his eyes but still holding back from smiling or laughing for your sake. 

“I know you want to laugh, so just go ahead,” you say, trying not to laugh at yourself while you hold Miguel’s gaze with a feigned annoyed expression. 

Gazing at each other for a few seconds, you can see Miguel’s lips twitch as he tries to hold back but ultimately fails when he sees your own lips form into a smile. He chuckles, louder than he usually does, which is a surprise on its own but it doesn’t stop there. You watch as he throws his head back with closed eyes, still chuckling and oh, the sound of it along with the sight, makes you wish you could record this moment and safekeep it forever. It brings you so much happiness to see and hear him like this and yet, it also leaves you longing for more. If the sound of him chuckling like this is so delightful, you can’t help but imagine what a true laugh from the man sitting next to you looks and sounds like.

Still smiling, you release a shaky breath you didn’t even know you were holding before you chuckle along with him. 

“I’m sorry - I was going to warn you and stop it but she moved so fast,” Miguel says, his tone still full of amusement as he meets your gaze again. “She didn’t hurt you, did she?” he asks, sounding concerned in the midst of his amusement. 

“No, I’m alright. Just took me by surprise,” you answer, shaking your head in disbelief, smiling. 

“I gave it back to her and she randomly lifted her arm. I didn’t think she was going to do that,” Miguel says apologetically but you shake your head. 

“She didn’t mean to. She’s been carrying this plushie around all day and gets really excited with it,” you reply, feeling unbothered since you know Mayday didn’t mean to and besides, it gave you the little moment with Miguel chuckling. You almost feel like thanking Mayday, even if she wouldn’t understand what she’s given you. 

For the next hour, you entertain Mayday by bringing out other toys Peter dropped off while music still plays in the background, creating a peaceful and cozy feeling in your apartment. Miguel sits on your couch, watching from a few feet as you sit on your living room floor with Mayday. You show her an action figure of Peter B. himself but Mayday doesn’t seem too interested in her own father’s action figure. Instead, she picks up yours, which you didn’t even know Peter had, and shows it to you. You chuckle and nod at Mayday, despite still wondering how Peter acquired everyone’s action figures. 

“That’s me,” you say, earning yourself a happy nod from Mayday before she picks another action figure. “That’s Miguel,” you continue as you observe his action figure, noticing how much taller it is than the other ones, truly highlighting how much taller Miguel is compared to the rest of you. 

Miguel continues to watch, also feeling surprised by the fact that Mayday has an action figure of everyone in your friend group, including himself. He’s surprised not only by the fact that he’s included, but also wonders how Peter got his hands on all of them, considering currency is different in each universe. He decides not to think about it and shrugs it off, focusing on Mayday as she holds both his and your action figures in the air now, babbling something that is not comprehensible just yet, so the two of you nod. 

“Yes, that’s Miguel and I. Really cool, right? Look, here we have… Miles,” you say lifting Miles’s action figure. “And here’s Hobie Hobie Brown,” you say in a fake British tone but quiet enough so Miguel won’t hear you. 

Despite your attempt to be quiet, Miguel hears you anyway. He hides his grin subtly by resting his elbow on the couch’s armrest and covering his mouth with his hand. Mayday laughs at your fake British accent but she still refuses to pick any other action figure. She continues to hold on to Miguel and you, showing the action figures to you once again. You watch in amusement until she makes both action figures clash face to face. 

“Mwuah!” Mayday says loudly with a giggle. 

Your grin falters as you hear that sound coming from her. Heat immediately rises to your cheeks as Mayday giggles again, dropping the action figures at last. Before you know it, she shoots a web towards Miguel. You try to catch her before she flies off but you’re a second too late, thanks to your embarrassment, and by the time your hands reach for her, she’s already halfway across the room, landing right in Miguel’s hands. You sigh in relief that she landed safely, forgetting for a second what happened before you remember again. You try to search Miguel’s face quickly for any signs of discomfort, but he holds Mayday up just as fast, hiding his face from your view. 

Miguel intentionally hides his face from you so you won’t see the pink that’s formed in his cheeks because he played dolls with Gabriella more than plenty of times to know what that sound means. Kissing. Mayday accidentally, or maybe not so accidentally, made your action figures kiss. Right in front of you two. 

You start picking up Mayday’s toys, using this as an excuse to hide your own face as you hear Miguel talk to Mayday. You carefully listen to his tone for any sign that he’s upset but there’s no indication. His tone is soft and gentle. You quietly get up and walk over to the toy bag Peter dropped off, gently placing each action figure back. You look down at your hands, noticing the last two action figures are yours and his. You put them away as well but waste time by pretending to rearrange what’s in the backpack to give your face some time to cool off. At last, you zip up the backpack and look around your living room and kitchen to make sure no toys are left behind. You spot the Spider-Ham plushie and pick it up, walking slowly to the couch where Miguel still sits talking to Mayday. 

You sit as far as possible and watch while you hold the plushie Mayday hit you with earlier. You subtly search Miguel’s face now, silently sighing in relief as his face reveals nothing. In fact, he turns to you and grins softly as he still holds Mayday up. You grin back, feeling the tension in your body evaporate as you come to the conclusion that either he didn’t notice or it didn’t make him uncomfortable.

You watch as Mayday reaches with her small hands towards Miguel’s mouth, making him turn his face back to her.

“She’s always interested in my fangs,” Miguel mutters as he watches Mayday’s hands move around, trying very hard to reach for his mouth but of course, he keeps her away. On rare occasions he lets her see them but he contemplates doing so right now, since you’re also here. 

Despite your time in the society, you don’t see his fangs often. Of course, sometimes you see them on missions but usually from a far and not for long since those missions are typically fast paced. You can count the times you’ve been close by to get a decent look with one hand. Twice. Only two times and both times Miguel immediately closed his mouth or retracted them once he saw that you were nearby. You’ve wondered if Miguel doesn’t like members seeing them. 

After a few seconds, Miguel decides to indulge Mayday, who gets all excited and tries even harder now to reach for Miguel. However, Miguel keeps holding her steady, ensuring that she won’t end up hurt. You watch, feeling less embarrassment now and enjoying the interaction between Miguel and Mayday. She shows excitement the entire fifteen minutes that Miguel shows her his fangs but with each passing minute, the two of you start to notice that her energy decreases more and more, signaling it’s time for bedtime. You let Miguel know, who nods in agreement since he notices Mayday’s eyes drooping with sleep.

You get up and walk closer, offering your hands to take her. Miguel carefully hands her over to you, retracting his fangs at the same time. Once she’s in your arms, you bring Mayday closer to your body, a gesture she accepts as she instantly buries her head on your chest with a soft sigh. You can’t help but freeze for a few seconds, not used to this but you smile tenderly at her after a few seconds. You gently cradle her head, keeping her steady as you’re reminded yet again that if things were different, you might be more familiar with these moments with your own kids. You turn around, silently telling yourself to not dwell too much on the moment and to focus on Mayday instead. You begin to walk to your room, telling Miguel over your shoulder that he can follow if he wants, to prepare Mayday for bed. 

Miguel thinks about it for a few seconds before he gets up, noticing the Spider-Ham plushie left behind. He picks it up and makes his way to your room, stopping at the doorway to respect your space. Sure, he could enter. It’s not like he hasn’t been in it before but that time was different, so he stops at the doorway and leans on it. He finds you leaning over your bed as you change Mayday into her pajamas and watches from a distance, unable to ignore the gentleness with which you change Mayday, who’s half asleep already. He scolds himself internally, knowing he shouldn’t but he can’t stop himself from thinking that you’d be an amazing mother. He knows he shouldn’t. For all he knows, you and Peter never had plans to have children or you no longer have plans to, even if one day you find love again, but still. The image of Mayday burying her head in your chest flashes in his mind, making him smile softly because he found it sweet. 

You finish changing Mayday and lift her up to your chest again, before walking over to her sleeping set up that Peter also brought, which makes you grin to yourself. Peter really brought everything here when it would’ve been so much easier for you to stay the night in their universe, but they wanted you to be in the comfort of your own home since it was going to be a whole day and night. You gently lay down Mayday and cover her with a blanket. For a moment, you forget Miguel is watching from the doorway and just look down at Mayday, who seems to be drifting off to sleep now. You smile a bit, thinking that this would’ve been nice; that your Peter would’ve loved this. 

You look up at last, remembering that a set of red eyes linger on you along with the fact that Mayday is missing her plushie, the one Peter B. was adamant Mayday needs to sleep with. Your gaze moves over to Miguel, noticing that he has the plushie so you beckon him over, understanding that he didn’t want to enter your bedroom out of respect. Miguel straightens up and walks over to you, seemingly hesitant but reaches your side almost instantly because of the size of your bedroom and his long strides.

“She needs the plushie,” you whisper and Miguel nods, handing it to you. You carefully tuck the Spider-Ham plushie next to Mayday, which makes her sigh softly in her sleep. You smile and look up at Miguel, who has continued to watch. He smiles softly back at you before the two of you slip out of your bedroom. You leave the door ajar while Miguel heads back to the couch to take a seat. The little leftover food from earlier is still out in the kitchen but neither of you think about it as you join him on the couch.

You reach for a baby monitor that Peter dropped off and check it. You’ve been using it throughout the day during naps, so by now you’re using it with confidence and ease. You find Mayday sleeping peacefully, so you set it back on your coffee table, noticing that Miguel is quiet as if lost in thought. You get comfortable on your couch, suddenly fully aware that you’re sitting on your new couch with Miguel next to you. It’s nothing new, of course. More often than not this is where the two of you find yourselves when it’s your turn to host dinner. The same happens in Miguel’s universe, though you sit separately there. So, no, this setup is not new except, you have the sudden realization that you’re sitting on a couch that Peter never sat on to listen to his music with you by his side reading. It’s a bittersweet thought; to think that all the new furniture and pieces of decoration were never touched or used by him. You sigh softly. It’s a sad thought but you know he would’ve been happy you finally replaced some items. It was needed. 

You turn your attention back to Miguel, noticing he’s still lost in his own thoughts. This isn’t strange or new to you either. You find him doing this very often and you know it’s not because of disrespect or because he finds the moment or your presence boring but rather, it’s the fact that he finds your presence comfortable. The two of you sit like this sometimes, finding comfort in each other’s presence without the need to fill the silence, which makes you happy because that kind of silence is hard to find in just anyone. Some people have the need to fill the silence with small talk but every once in a while, you find a person with whom you don’t feel like that. You find the person whose presence soothes your very soul without the need for words. You sigh softly, thinking about how you had that kind of connection with Peter and how it’s nice that you’ve been lucky to find it with Miguel, too.

The two of you sit like that for a little while until your thoughts find themselves going back to earlier when Miguel showed Mayday his fangs. The fact that you don’t see them much comes back and you wonder once again if Miguel prefers not showing them. You silently think it’s a shame since you find them fascinating and so unique, though you’ve also wondered if they hurt in the past, or at least when he first got them.

A little while later, you turn to face Miguel just as he does the same towards you, which is a recurring thing. It’s like you subconsciously agree and communicate with the other when you are ready to engage in conversation again. Miguel smiles softly, thinking about this. He doesn’t know how but it always happens. He secretly pins it to that special connection between the two of you, the one that scares him, but not nearly as much as it comforts him these days. 

Everything about you brings comfort to Miguel though. Your presence. The fact that you exist is comforting. That part scares him but he can’t help it. Everything about you is comforting to him. Even when the two of you are just sitting on the couch, his dimension or yours, he finds it comforting. The peaceful silence that falls - no -  embraces the two of you is comforting. It’s comforting and safe, and it’s the reason why he allows himself to think about his past then. He knows you’re there, keeping him at bay, keeping him grounded. With you near him, Miguel feels like he can safely explore his past the way he was just now. 

You smile back at Miguel with a thoughtful expression, your mind still on his fangs.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, knowing that look on your face all too well. The more time the two of you have spent, which has definitely increased over the last two months, the more Miguel has learned about you, and truthfully, Miguel loves it even if it also scares him a bit. He’s aware that the more he knows about you, the more he learns about you, that it means he’s letting that connection between the two of you strengthen each day. He knows that each passing second he spends with you or every second his mind finds its way to you, which these days is very often, he knows it means that he’s caved in. He’s allowed it to happen and while it terrifies him that he could lose someone, you, again, he still loves it. He loves knowing when something bothers you or when you’re happy about something. Or how he can tell when you’re tired but you’re lying about it. He loves being able to tell that you find comfort in his presence, just like he does in yours, and that fact alone makes him feel - grateful. To be someone that you find comfort in makes Miguel feel special. He also loves being able to tell when something’s on your mind but holding back from speaking your mind, the way you are now. 

You smile at him and shake your head slightly. “Nothing.” 

“Come on.” 

You look away and stare at the baby monitor. Despite the nearness between you and Miguel, you still refrain from asking. You don’t want to push him nor disrespect his boundaries. Besides, with all the changes you’ve noticed in him, you feel that little by little, Miguel will share more about himself when he’s prepared. So, you avoid sharing your thoughts for now.

“It’s nothing, really.” 

“I’d like to know,” Miguel says softly, resting his arm on the armrest. 

You stay silent for a few seconds, contemplating. 

“You’re thinking,” he says with such certainty, like he can see the gears in your head working. “Tell me what’s on your mind,” he adds, softly. 

After a few more seconds of silence and a sigh, you let the words slip out of your mouth. “It’s about… your fangs.” 

Miguel’s eyebrows raise, feeling a bit surprised but also amused that his fangs are what’s causing you to feel so hesitant. “What about them?” 

You shake your head. “It’s nothing.” 

“You can tell me,” Miguel says, sounding hopeful that you’d share your thoughts. He wonders if you find them weird or disturbing, or maybe both. Or maybe you’re okay with them. 

“Well, I think they’re really cool,” you say quietly, looking over at him. Miguel raises an eyebrow. “They are. I mean - they’re fangs. Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about because I don’t have them but I think they’re really cool and unique - as are your talons. They’re amazing,” you say, sounding genuinely in awe. “And I was wondering if it hurt, you know, when you first got them.” 

Miguel keeps his gaze on you, pleasantly surprised to hear you say you think his fangs and talons are “cool” and “amazing.” He thinks about it for a few seconds before responding. “I was awake during my transformation. It was a short one.” Miguel pauses, looking down at his hand. “My fingers and toes felt slightly sore from the talons but it was bearable. My fangs on the other hand, made my gums extremely sensitive for a week or so.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. I can only imagine… the kind of discomfort and pain caused by your fangs,” you say softly, eyebrows furrowing in concern, though Miguel isn’t in any pain these days. 

“It’s alright. Thankfully it was just for a few days. You know - I had a lot of light sensitivity in my eyes afterward. That was the worst, really,” Miguel shares, thinking back to those days when he had to wear glasses to help.

“Your eyes… Because they turned red.”

Miguel nods, meeting your gaze. “I had to figure out how to hide the new eye color and then on top of that, how to avoid the sensitivity. I used to get really bad migraines,” Miguel explains. “So, I had to use glasses until a few years ago. The sensitivity is gone now, thankfully and I don’t have to worry about hiding their real color… At least not anymore,” Miguel says, thinking back to his time in Gabriella’s universe. 

Miguel looks down at his lap again. “It became an issue again when I was in Gabriella’s universe. My counterpart had brown eyes, like I used to,” he says with a tone that you immediately recognize as sadness, as if he misses his natural eye color. “I had to wear a hologram over my eyes while I was there, though sometimes I just wore contact lenses.” 

You nod, feeling a pang of pain as you detect the sadness in his tone about his eye color. You search your brain, trying to remember seeing Miguel with brown eyes in the pictures hidden by Lyla so many months ago. You faintly recall that, yes, his eyes were brown in those pictures but your brain didn’t capture that detail at the time, as you were caught up in the moment when Miguel was so upset about the hidden file.

“I’m so used to the red, sometimes I forget there was a time they weren’t this color,” Miguel says quietly. “That there was a time when they were normal.”

The soft and quiet emphasis on “normal” makes you frown because it sounds like Miguel isn’t happy with his eye color now. You continue to look at him and before you even realize what you’re going to say, you open your mouth. “Brown or red, they are beautiful,” you say in a tone that leaves no room for debate. You find his eyes beautiful, no matter the color, period.

Miguel looks up, lips parting in surprise and cheeks instantly feeling hot due to the compliment. Recruits usually find Miguel’s eyes scary when they first meet him and even when they get used to them, they still find them odd. In fact, both his talons and fangs tend to scare some of the recruits, a reaction Miguel thinks is understandable. 

Even though you complimented Miguel’s eyes with confidence, because truly, you find his eyes beautiful, you can’t help but feel a little worried as you realize your words might be too much for Miguel. However, you quickly realize that it’s too late to take it back so you decide to smile softly, and hope that it eases any discomfort you may have caused Miguel. To your relief, Miguel smiles softly. 

“Thank you…” he says looking down again, with a slight blush to his cheeks. He stares at his lap for a few seconds before looking back at you again. “So - you think the fangs and talons are cool?” Miguel asks with what you can only describe as disbelief, as if it’s impossible to him that anyone could see his features in such a positive way. 

You nod quickly. “Yes, I do. I… I remember when I first learned about them. I was really amazed,” you say as Miguel listens intently. “I thought they were so unique. I still do,” you say softly, meaning it. 

Miguel nods, smiling a bit. He can’t help but feel appreciation for the fact that you don’t find the very features that make him stand out from the rest of you odd or scary. Back in the early days of the Spider Society, Miguel often felt like an outcast among the other members despite being the founder and leader. 

“I haven’t always been fond of them,” Miguel reveals suddenly, as he looks down at his hands. 

You watch as his talons appear suddenly on command, feeling awe. 

Miguel, however, can’t help but look over at your hand, remembering he scratched you back when he was in the infirmary. He can spot some scars that remain from the talons. He looks away, feeling upset with himself again after all this time.

“You never told me if your suit was ripped from my talons.” 

You smile softly, even though you sense a shift in Miguel. “It had some tearing but nothing I couldn’t fix. You can’t even notice it.” 

“I knew it’d have rips on it…” Miguel says quietly. He knew, of course, from experience in his early days after gaining his spider abilities. “I knew it from experience.” 

“It’s alright. Don’t stress about it,” you reply gently. 

Miguel nods but he cannot help but still feel guilty, especially from leaving scars on your body. He eyes your hand again and this time you notice it, realizing what’s going on through his mind and why there’s a sudden shift in his demeanor. 

“Miguel,” you say softly, trying to get him to look at you. He looks up, meeting your gaze again. “Please don’t stress over it. You didn’t mean to and I promise, it hardly hurt. And these little scars, they don’t bother me. I don’t mind them. I have a bigger scar and I don’t mind it at all. Remember the sword incident I mentioned back when we were at the infirmary?” you ask and he nods, remembering. You lift your top slightly, only revealing the scar on the side of your stomach.

Miguel’s eyes travel down to your bare skin, feeling surprised but also moved by the fact that you feel comfortable enough to show him. He respectfully scans your scar, noticing it’s so light but it’s there, on your soft skin. Miguel remembers you telling him how you refused to go to the hospital and now that he’s looking at the scar, he can’t believe you didn’t seek professional help despite knowing your reasoning for it. His eyes meet yours again as he feels a wave of respect for you, yet again, for refusing medical help when you needed it, all to protect Peter’s identity. He also feels admiration towards Peter for tending such a wound on his own. 

You let your top slide down and shrug slightly, smiling. 

“Please don’t feel bad about them. It didn’t hurt me the way you think,” you reassure him. 

Miguel looks away, nodding slowly. He lets your words sink in, letting them reassure him. There is some relief when he thinks about how he could’ve hurt you much worse while being unconscious. Hurting someone with his talons by accident has always worried Miguel, yet it’s a worry he doesn’t have with himself since the talons retract automatically when he brings them close to his skin. 

With all this talk about his fangs, talons, and red eyes, Miguel can’t help but think about how he got them and how he became Spider-Man 2099. He sighs softly, feeling like maybe he could tell you about it now. Maybe he can tell you about rapture and why he took that mysterious neon green liquid months ago with your help. He noticed the curiosity in your eyes back then but like always, you didn’t ask. 

“I wasn’t bitten by a radioactive spider like most spider members were,” Miguel says quietly, wondering if right now is a good time. “Like you.” 

You nod slowly though Miguel is looking down at his hand on his lap.

Miguel thinks about it for a few seconds. In order for everything to make sense, he needs to go back. All the way to his childhood. He sighs again, wondering if this is a good time but then again, is there ever a good time to talk about things like these? Miguel frowns to himself. The evening has been enjoyable and relaxing, like they always are, and he really doesn’t want to ruin the mood now. But… It doesn’t have to be ruined, right? It can’t be if Miguel doesn’t let the conversation become a sad or depressing one. It’ll only turn sad if he lets it, and he decides he won’t. Or at least, he will try not to. 

“I was born in the O’Hara household. To Conchata, who you know by now, and to… George O’Hara,” Miguel starts, pausing when it comes to the man’s name. “I don’t remember my early life, of course. To be honest… I can only remember my life from the moment Gabriel was born.” Miguel smiles softly at the mention of his little brother. “I was so happy about having a little sibling and even more so when I found out it was going to be a boy. I knew we were going to be inseparable and we were - until - until his passing, of course. He made my life so much better.”

Miguel pauses for a few seconds, wondering whether he really should talk about this. It’s something that no one else knows about. The other person who knew about it was Gabriel but with him gone… Miguel clears his throat. 

“I have some fond memories from my childhood while others are not so happy,” Miguel admits. 

You narrow your eyes softly as those words sink in, preparing yourself mentally to hear Miguel. For some time now, you’ve put together that his childhood was not always nice but to hear him admit it, breaks your heart even more.

“George O’Hara… He provided the basic necessities, so that was something at least but he didn’t like me. Growing up, I always wondered why. I wondered if I had done something. If I reminded him of someone. If I was just - not a welcomed child because of the timing in his and mom’s lives. I wondered so many times…” Miguel says, clutching a fist as he stares at it. “I wondered if maybe - I wasn’t enough.”

Miguel’s words cut through you like a knife. You’ve yearned to comfort him so many times before but nothing compares to this moment. You feel an incredible pain in your chest as you imagine Miguel as a little kid, wondering if he was enough, something no one should ever question, let alone a child. Unknowingly, your hands are in fists right now as you feel both anger and sadness course through you but at the same time, it’s your body holding back from reaching out and comforting him. 

Miguel notices your fists, instantly feeling regret.

“I’m sorry,” Miguel says, looking up at you with an apologetic look on his face. “This is too much.”

“No, no, no. It’s…” you state softly but trail off. Yes, it’s too much but not for the reason he thinks. It’s too much because of the vulnerability and the upsetting memories he’s telling you about. It’s too much because your heart is breaking with each sentence and all you want to do is comfort him. If you could, you would’ve already thrown your arms around him and held him as he recollects these memories but you know you still can’t because despite the changes in your friend, he’s still learning to move forward and physical contact is off the table indefinitely. So, you settle for a sad smile. “I’m here,” you whisper softly. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay, too. You don’t have to.” 

Miguel holds your gaze.”The truth is… I want to. I need to, Y/N.” He sighs and looks down. “I need to because I’ve never talked about it before. Gabriel knew because he was there for it but I’ve never actually talked about it with someone. I’ve just - bottled it inside like I’ve done with everything else,” he says so softly, almost a whisper. He looks up again, meeting your gaze. “And I’m trying…”

You nod, smiling softly in understanding. Miguel hasn’t said it out loud but you know. Ever since his incident back in the spring, you’ve noticed the changes, of course. He smiles and chuckles more often with you. He calls Miles “mijo” more often. Then, there’s the Saturday dinners with you of course, along with the many other signs, like him having a more regular sleeping schedule these days. He’s trying. He’s trying to move forward ever since his incident and that means opening up about other parts of his life. You nod again, encouragingly. 

“I’ll be listening, then. If you need anything throughout it or you need to take a break, please let me know and do so, okay?” you say gently. 

Miguel nods, grateful for your understanding. “If you don’t want to hear anymore, you do the same, okay? Please don’t hesitate to tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings, I promise. I know it may - be too much,” he says with a heavy sigh but still waits for you to acknowledge his request, wanting to know that you understand that you can stop him at any time if you feel uncomfortable hearing what he’s sharing. 

You nod. “I will.” 

Miguel nods and sighs again. “I don’t want this to be some - sad thing. I just need to talk about it,” he says quietly. “It used to hold a lot of power over me, especially in my early twenties. I wasn’t the man I’m now,” Miguel says and then chuckles a bit. “I don’t think you would’ve liked me back then, to be honest. I was very arrogant.”

You smile softly when he chuckles, wondering what he means.

“Yeah, you would’ve not liked me,” Miguel says thinking about it more. He was quite arrogant back then and you, well, you seem like you’ve always been this way: sweet and kind. He shakes his head softly and decides to just get it out. “There was physical and verbal abuse from George. For everyone in the household. Mom and him argued a lot. I hated it so much but especially for Gabriel,” Miguel says looking at you. “He used to get so scared when they argued. If the fighting started and I wasn’t in the room, he’d run to find me. He’d burst into my bedroom, his little face marked by fear and all I could do was just - hold him to calm him down, which always made George angry.” Miguel shakes his head softly at this. 

“We were very close; Gabriel and I, and it made George so furious. I used to think that it was because he wished he had that bond with Gabriel. That he wished Gabriel found comfort in him as well but no. It was just his ego and his ideas. He was the kind of man that believed that boys shouldn’t cry,” Miguel says evenly, remembering the many times George berated him as a child for crying. “He used to scold me for doing so when he… When he hurt me. He probably thought Gabrielito was weak for getting scared when he and mom argued, which just makes my blood boil,” Miguel continues with clear anger in his voice despite the time that has passed. He clears his throat softly, trying to let go of this anger but the memories of little Gabriel clinging to him, shaking in fear are still too painful. Gabriel’s voice echoes in his mind then. 

“Is everything going to be okay?” he’d ask Miguel, and of course, Miguel would say yes for his sake. 

Miguel goes quiet for about a minute, trying to calm down. He reminds himself you’re there, nearby, and that it’s okay. He’s okay. 

You sit still by his side, listening respectfully and letting Miguel take his time to navigate through these memories until Miguel sighs softly, nodding to himself. 

“After many years of living like that, mom finally divorced him. He ended up marrying again and he cut contact with us completely. He died pretty young,” Miguel says. “That was the end of George O’Hara in our lives. At least physically. My mom… She had phases. Sometimes she was amazing, the way a parent ought to be to their child and other times - she wasn’t great, with me at least.” 

“... with me at least.”

You sigh silently, remembering Miguel has talked a little about his mom and their relationship. 

“My memories of her are mixed. There were months that were great, like the holidays. Even on those days George was somewhat decent, too. She’d cook and she’d let us help. She’d tell us that we needed to learn to cook,” Miguel says and smiles sadly. “She said she didn’t want her sons to not know how to fend for themselves in the kitchen nor did she want us to think that cooking was a woman’s chore or duty like George did, so she’d teach us during those days when he was still at work to avoid making him mad. Those were good days and then there were the bad days… It was as if she resented me. I thought it was because of George - because I reminded her of her abusive and controlling husband. I couldn’t understand why. I used to think it wasn’t my fault that there was a resemblance to him… She’d barely talk to me sometimes except when it was necessary. She’d get mad at me for anything on those days. I was the older child, so I always noticed the different way she treated Gabriel, something I never resented him for, of course. It just made me wonder… And then it would pass again and she’d be great for a few weeks or months before the cycle repeated.”

Miguel pauses for a few seconds, taking a deep breath. 

“Once I was older and could be independent, I limited my contact with her. Gabriel always tried with her and I don’t blame him, she was our mother after all but I couldn’t just forget about everything. I became a geneticist and started working at Alchemax. It was all great at first but I started to see the reality of everything. Alchemax controlled the city,” Miguel pauses. “There was a lot happening with that, but what changed everything was an experiment. We were trying to imprint genetic codes into a human’s physiology. The goal was to have humans with superhero skills, like Spider-Man. We were in the early stages when an executive demanded human trials to start. It was too soon but it was an executive order. Our subject, he… turned into a creature and died shortly after. The experiment was a failure. After what happened, I didn’t want to keep working at Alchemax, so I made up my mind to quit and scheduled a meeting with a higher up. He was an executive at the company.”

Miguel turns to you, meeting your gaze. “There was a drug called rapture here in Nueva York. It was horrible and highly addictive because it binded to an individual’s DNA, which made it impossible to recover from. Alchemax was the only manufacturer for it, so just keep that in mind. When I went to meet with my boss, he gave me a drink. I thought it was harmless, of course. After telling him that I was leaving the company, he told me the drink was laced with rapture. He suspected from the start that the purpose of our meeting was for me to give him my resignation.” 

You hold his gaze, feeling shocked and in disbelief, though you try to mask it as best as possible. Your thoughts take you back to two months ago when you injected a neon green liquid into Miguel. You silently wonder if it was rapture; if Miguel is still managing an addiction. 

“Tyler Stone’s plan, that was his name, was that I’d stick around to have access to the drug through Alchemax. Since Alchemax was the sole distributor, he was going to make sure I’d have no access to it. The only other way would’ve been through the black market, so he threatened to have me arrested, which would’ve been easy as he had the police in his pocket. I agreed to stay but I had a plan. I didn’t want to be addicted for life, so I decided to get rid of my addiction by overriding my DNA using the same procedure I had used before. I’m sorry if this is boring,” Miguel says with furrowed eyebrows.

You shake your head, letting him know it’s not. “It’s not. I’m listening, I promise.”

Miguel nods slowly. “I had been using my own DNA in the experiment to test. So, my plan was to override the DNA that was basically corrupted by rapture with a copy of my saved DNA from the database. I wasn’t sure if I was going to survive the procedure but… It was either death or I’d be an addict by morning. So, I proceeded. It was sabotaged by a coworker, who changed the DNA. My DNA… it ended up being spliced with a spider’s genes because of him. So now, fifty percent of my DNA is spider DNA,” Miguel says quietly. “Do you remember a few months ago when you helped me inject a green liquid?” he asks. You nod slowly. “Those are suppressants. They stabilize my DNA because of the spider DNA,” he says softly. 

After a few seconds of silence, Miguel looks up again. “That’s how I became Spider-Man. The thing is - It was a while later when I found out that Stone didn’t even lace my drink. He only gave me something that imitated rapture’s effects. He wanted to keep me tied to Alchemax no matter what. It was like a slap to the face when I found out I had gone through all of that trouble for nothing. Then - there was something else I found out only a minute later after I overheard that. My mother confronted Stone about it - about rapture, and that’s how I found out that I had an imitating drug along with the fact that Stone was actually - my biological father.” Miguel pauses, taking a few seconds to breathe. “I heard her admit it. I heard her say that she knew I always believed she disliked me because I reminded her of George, only to tell Stone that I reminded her of him more each day - because he was my father. Stone and my mother had an affair while she was already married. After so many years… it finally made sense, why she treated me the way she did sometimes. It was her guilt about the affair… so, there’s that.”

Miguel pauses and sighs, feeling strangely… lighter. “Becoming Spider-Man changed me, not only physically and genetically but… mentally. It changed my character. I began to try and be what a Spider-Man ought to be. You know I was so - arrogant before. So prideful. Becoming Spider-Man taught me to become better. It made me want to help people, and so I tried my best and became a decent superhero. So much, that one time my mother said I ought to be more like Spider-Man 2099. I got so upset I told her I was Spider-Man 2099. She didn’t believe me. She laughed,” Miguel says remembering that incident. “Things changed later on and we had a better relationship, which I’m glad for. Our last years together were far more peaceful. It felt like a real family at last without secrets and abuse. I still feel some resentment towards her sometimes but I’ve moved on for the most part. Slowly but surely. So… that’s how I became Spider-Man,” Miguel finishes in a calm tone. 

Now done, Miguel leans back on the couch and begins to move his hands but stops when he feels softness. He looks down, finding your sweatshirt on his lap. He left it on the couch earlier  when he first arrived to return it to you so you can wear it for the week, but at some point while talking, he pulled it and has been holding it closely without even noticing. There’s still a light trace of your scent on it but it’s mostly gone and replaced with his own since he keeps it close during the night. He can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed right now in your presence as he remembers how he wakes up every morning. No matter how he holds it before falling asleep, he wakes up every morning with his face buried in it, as if he can’t get enough of your scent. 

He looks up at you at last, finding a soft expression on your face, though he can also tell you’re processing everything he has shared with you. He sighs deeply, staring at you silently for a few more seconds, feeling something. Relief. Freedom. It’s like a major weight has been lifted off his shoulders; one he didn’t know he was carrying around. He sighs again but this time easier and less deeply. He smiles softly at you. 

“I didn’t expect to feel like this but I feel lighter?” he says, sounding more like a question. “I didn’t imagine talking about it would feel this… freeing”

You return his smile and nod slowly, still trying to wrap your mind around everything Miguel has shared, yet you feel happiness for him when he says that he feels lighter. Even though what he has shared with you was hard to listen to, you’re thankful that Miguel felt comfortable enough to tell you about it.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you - uncomfortable,” Miguel says. “But please don’t worry about it. I’ve been over it in a way. It’s just something I’ve been carrying around, and now that I’ve said it, I feel like it truly has zero power over me. Thank you for listening,” Miguel whispers, still holding your sweatshirt. He lets his fingers grasp it tighter, letting them sink into the softness of it. 

You sigh softly, feeling that lightness he has mentioned, as if it was your own. Smiling, you nod again. “Always,” you whisper, earning yourself a soft smile from the man next to you. You notice at last that he has your sweatshirt on his lap, remembering that it was draped over the armrest earlier. You were listening so intently to him the entire time that you didn’t notice at what point he pulled it onto his lap. You don’t fail to notice now, however, how his fingers are lost in the fabric as if he’s seeking its softness or maybe its comfort. You can’t help but feel tenderness at the thought. Maybe you did comfort him physically somehow, even if it was just through your sweatshirt. 

Miguel looks down at the sweatshirt, staying quiet for a few seconds before he looks up again. “How about that café de olla and pan dulce?” he asks softly, preparing to stand up but you stand up faster than him with a smile.

“I’ll get it for us, don’t worry,” you say softly, wanting to serve the coffee for the two of you. You want to do as much as you can to comfort him right now after everything he has shared with you. 

You quickly check the baby monitor before you head off though. Mayday has continued to sleep peacefully the entire time but you still want to make sure. Feeling satisfied, so you place it back on your coffee table before walking to the kitchen and retrieving the thermos Miguel brought. You place it on your counter and open your cupboards to get mugs. Over the last two months, you’ve done some more organization in your kitchen and it led to you finding an old mug your parents bought for you when you were a teenager. You retrieve it for yourself, smiling as your eyes trace the beige ceramic mug with a bear’s head on it staring back at you. You’ve been using it again ever since you found it after not using it for years because it used to make you sad, but now that you’ve found it again, it brings you happy memories of when your parents were still alive. You place it on the counter and then reach for another mug for Miguel, though it’s a more serious one.

You quickly but carefully pour the café de olla into the mugs. Once you’re done with that, you get some plates as well and grab the bag with pan dulce. You take it to the coffee table and set up the plates before returning to the kitchen to grab the mugs. At last, you reach Miguel with both mugs, ready to give him his when you hear a noise detected from the baby monitor. The two of you look over at it, surprised but also alarmed by it.

Through the little screen, you can see Mayday moving around a bit and yawning in her sleep before she settles down again with the Spider-Ham plushie still at her side. You turn to Miguel once you see she’s alright and carefully hand him a mug, going as far as holding it for him in a way that your fingers won’t brush since you’re still adamant about respecting his boundaries. Besides, you know that Miguel might feel emotionally exhausted after the conversation, so all you want is to make the aftermath as comfortable as possible for him. 

You stand still to avoid either of you getting burned as he reaches for it from his seat, watching his hand move closer to it. You look down at the mug then. The sudden baby monitor’s alarm distracted you so much you don’t even realize you are offering him the bear mug until the last second. You’re about to tell him but you only manage to open your mouth when you feel his hand brush over your fingers on the mug’s side. Your mouth closes just as his fingers slide into the spaces between yours, immediately noting his body warmth and the way his fingers are far more bigger than yours. 

It takes you by surprise to say the least but before you can fully comprehend it, you feel his pinky finger curl slightly around your own as it hangs below the mug. You keep a neutral expression, still worried about getting Miguel or yourself burnt with hot coffee, though your mind is kind of short circuiting right now. You push past it and tell yourself that it’s just an accidental brush of fingers. His fingers are bigger than yours after all and he needs more room to hold the mug; room that your fingers are taking up for him to grab the mug more comfortably, probably. However, as you’re going on about this in your head and you sense Miguel take a stronger hold of the mug, you feel it. 

His pinky finger, which has been loosely curled so far, wraps around yours a bit more firmly before he gives you a gentle squeeze, as if the two of you were making a pinky promise.  He releases your pinky one or two seconds later, fully taking hold of the mug and moving it towards him. You look at him for a few seconds, noticing the way his eyes are on the mug, as if avoiding your gaze.

You look away quickly, trying not to make it obvious before taking a seat next to him. You hold your own mug in your hands, no longer thinking about how you mixed up the mugs, before you set it down on a coaster. You gently pull the bag with pan dulce and a plate towards you, offering it to Miguel with a smile as you try not to think about what happened just seconds ago, though it’s really hard not to. Miguel accepts it, smiling gently as you carry on and open the plastic bag for him to grab a piece of bread. He avoids your gaze as he reaches into the bag, placing his choice of bread on his plate. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

“Always,” you answer in an equally quiet tone as you process what happened.

You grab a piece of bread for yourself before placing the bag back on the coffee table, thoughts racing. You thought it was an accident that he brushed his fingers over yours but now… You walk through every step of the moment, breaking it down in your head. Did you imagine it? Maybe you are reading too much into it? No, with the way you placed your fingers Miguel had a decent amount of space to take hold of the mug without touching you and yet, his hand went for the exact spot where your fingers rested before he slid them between yours to grab the mug. You take a small and careful sip from your mug since the coffee is still perfectly hot from the thermos Miguel stored it in. Okay, maybe the brushing of fingers was an accident but the curling of his pinky around yours? The gentle squeeze? That’s where it doesn’t make sense. It was intentional. 

You break a small piece of bread to eat as the realization hits you. Miguel did that intentionally. The more you sit there and eat your piece of pan dulce, the more you are convinced that everything about it was intentional, including his fingers brushing over yours. Yet, you sit in silence next to Miguel and wonder. There have been so many times when you’ve wanted to comfort him and each time you’ve reminded yourself to hold back out of respect. You wonder if he has ever noticed that. Have you been so obvious about it that he knows? You remember he noticed your clenched fists earlier, so maybe he does. Perhaps Miguel knows that there have been so many times you wished you could comfort him physically. And maybe - maybe he needed that little comfort after the memories he recollected today and knowing that you’re open to physical touch, Miguel seeked that comfort in a small way - just for today. 

You can’t help but brush your pinky next to your ring finger now, discreetly, of course. You recall the sensation, almost feeling the warmth that came from his hand but not quite because you can’t recreate that unique warmth that only Miguel has. You can’t, not without him. Then, there was the feeling of his pinky on its own and how the tip of it was enough to wrap around yours almost fully. This simple fact makes you think for a moment. It’s obvious that Miguel is a tall and big man, so it is no surprise that his hands are large but the fact that his pinky’s tip was enough to wrap around yours, makes you really realize the size difference, which you find amusing but also sweet. 

You silently and briefly wonder what your hand would look like next to his but you don’t spend too much time on this because for some reason it feels wrong. Your thoughts return to the moment, to the gesture. To how his fingers felt warm and strong. To how you felt their weight, which was a comforting one, like when something presses over you but instead of hurting or bringing discomfort, you could lay underneath such a weight because it feels pleasant. You take another sip of coffee as the realization hits you. You enjoyed the way his fingers felt and the way his pinky finger wrapped around your own. You enjoyed the way his warmth seeped into your skin and how his fingers slid past yours, settling between them to take hold of the mug. You enjoyed the little squeeze from his pinky finger. You enjoyed every second of it.

You blink, trying to clear your thoughts but even then you find yourself running your thumb over the back of your fingers, as if trying to recreate the sensation on your own when you know very well it’s impossible. You retrieve your thumb, giving up, before you finally break the silence. “I say it every time but this coffee and pan dulce… The best combo,” you say, mentally wincing at the way your voice comes out because it sounds like you’re nervous. 

Thankfully, Miguel’s face reveals nothing if he notices, which he does, and instead, nods with a smile at your comment about the coffee and bread. 

“It really is, isn't it?” he responds, quietly. He takes a sip of his own coffee, wondering why he did what he did. Why did he do that when he saw the way you were holding the mug? You went out of your way to avoid brushing his fingers as a way to respect his boundaries regarding physical touch like always. It’s one of the things that he most appreciates about you, how respectful you are with him and his boundaries when there have been so many that have disregarded them but not you. Never you. 

Even when there was no other option back in the infirmary, you were so concerned about it, going as far as wanting to request gloves from the medical team. So why did he do it? It was a spur of the moment, Miguel guesses. He saw your fingers and he could’ve taken hold of the mug without even grazing your skin. Yet, before he even realized it, his fingers were brushing yours and then there was your pinky and his mind wasn’t thinking properly because it was stuck on how it had felt to graze your skin even if just for a few seconds. His mind was dazed by that mere sensation and before he knew it, his pinky was curled around yours and then he gave it a gentle squeeze. And it all felt right.

The two of you sit side by side drinking your café de olla and eating your pan dulce in silence. You’re trying to process the fact that his touch was intentional, even if it was small. Miguel continues to try and figure out why he did it in the first place and all he can think about is that he needed it without knowing it after having to recollect parts of his life that weren’t too happy.

You smile softly as you eat a piece of your pan dulce, happy about the little moment as you slowly recover from your surprise. Miguel is trying. Step by step, little by little. You look over at him as he lifts the bear mug to his lips, unable to stop yourself from finding it endearing how much smaller the mug looks in his hand. You smile even more but look away before he catches you, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. 

“Thank you for dinner again. And for this,” you say at last, lifting your mug up and motioning to the pan dulce. You’re silently relieved that you’ve found your voice again. “I’m sorry for the change of plans since it was so sudden but I appreciate it. Dinner was amazing as always.”

Miguel smiles softly, nodding and feeling relieved that you don’t seem to mind what he did. In fact, you seemed to have moved on from it, even though he’s lowkey still thinking about how small your pinky felt when he wrapped his around it. He clears his throat, nodding again. “Always. I’m glad you enjoyed it, and don’t worry about the change of plans, I didn’t mind it,” he replies. 

You smile at him, nodding before you take another sip of coffee. The two of you fall into a peaceful silence again. It’s at this moment that everything Miguel told you rushes through your mind. You listened to him intently and paid attention to every detail but there are certain parts that stand out more than others, like how he questioned whether he was enough as a child because of his stepfather along with his treatment of the whole family or the way his mother treated him sometimes. For a while now you suspected he didn’t always look back at the past fondly but you never thought about the reasons as you didn’t want to speculate about someone else’s life, even less about Miguel’s. You stare at your coffee table, lost in thought, wishing you could say something; wishing you could tell him what is on your mind but you know this is sensitive and Miguel didn’t share his memories seeking your opinion or thoughts. Besides, you think about the fact that it isn’t your place to do so. Miguel needed to let it out of his chest and he wanted someone, you, to listen, not give him your thoughts about it.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about. Please,” Miguel says softly, breaking the silence, knowing you’re thinking but refraining from saying anything.

You clear your throat softly, looking at your mug now. It’s halfway empty and you’re very likely going to get a second one because the coffee doesn’t compare to any other coffee you’ve ever had. You look at the dark liquid, feeling the warmth through the mug on your fingers, reminding you once again of Miguel’s pinky wrapped around yours before he gently squeezed it. You want to shake your head and tell him it’s nothing, but Miguel seems to be able to read you so well these days, that you often feel like an open book when you’re around him. 

“I can’t,” you finally say, softly. “It’s… not my place,” you add, still looking at the coffee because you can feel his gaze on you. 

Miguel’s face softens at your words, guessing it’s about his childhood. “You can tell me. It’s not going to bother me. Or upset me. I promise,” he says. 

Your grip on the mug tightens as you hear his last two words. He promises. It eases some of your worries but you’re still hesitant because you don’t want your words to come out wrong. You don’t want Miguel to think that you’re pitying him or something of the sort because that’s not how you feel. You’re not pitying him. You just want - To do so much but you’re unable to. You’re okay with your words but you’ve always been better at showing your feelings through actions. If Miguel was more open to physical touch, even just a little, you would’ve already had him sitting next to you with a blanket around him or something. You would’ve taken his hand or laid your hand on his shoulder to let him know everything you feel, everything you’re thinking about but can’t say because you also fear your words will be too much for him. 

You must be patient, you remind yourself. One day, you may be able to do it but for now, you will be patient like you’ve always been. You clear your throat and smile softly, looking up at him. You’re about to try to change the subject but the look on his face makes you stop in your tracks. Miguel looks down at you with a soft expression and a smile that, despite how much you see it these days, still catches you by surprise each time, along with a look in his eyes. One that seems to be asking you, maybe even imploring you to reveal every running thought through your mind right now. You find yourself meeting his gaze, wanting to indulge him but there’s still that hesitation, which does not go unnoticed by him. 

“Y/N…” Miguel quietly says with a tone that confirms your suspicions. He really wants to hear what you’re thinking.  

“Miguel…” you reply softly, still holding on to your mug. You shake your head slightly, with a sad smile. You can’t. You must not. 

“Please.”

One word. One single word uttered from his lips. His tone is soft, gentle; the way it’s always with you as you’ve come to notice. Miguel holds your gaze. Your hesitation to tell him makes him worried. Is it that bad that you don’t want to tell him? Even when he’s asking you to share your thoughts?

“It’s that bad… I’m sorry if I ruined the mood,” he apologizes. 

“No, no, no… Miguel,” you murmur tenderly, feeling upset with yourself instantly. Your hesitation is now making him reconsider his decision to share something so personal and that’s the last thing you ever want to do. You already know how much it takes for him to be this open about his past and here you are, making him apologize because he thinks you can’t handle what he has shared with you. “Miguel, that's not it. I promise. I just-” you stop, lifting your hand towards him but stopping midway. No, you can’t do that but your body wishes to. You move your hand back, trying to play it off as something else despite how obvious it is what you wish to do. “Miguel, what I was thinking - I’m no one to say it,” you reply softly, looking down at your mug, holding it with both hands again. It’s better if you do that, you think. It’ll prevent you from wanting to reach out to him again.

Miguel stares at you and scoffs softly. You’re no one? He wonders if you really believe that and if so, how can you? How can you say that you’re no one when you’re his friend? When you’re his only close friend. When you make him smile and laugh. When you make him want to talk about trivial things when in the past he didn’t want to nor could he imagine wanting to do so with any spider member and found it annoying when they tried. Now, he wants to tell you about the most random, insignificant little things that happen in his life, like how this morning when he went to get pan dulce a kid asked if he could help him get a piñata down and how it was Spider-Man 2099 themed or how the carniceros call him “el primo,” now that he shows up more to buy groceries. Or, when he wants to hear random bits of your day like how Hobie and Pav got into a debate yesterday about the best tea. How can you believe that you’re no one?  When he wants to tell you his whole life because he feels comfortable with you. When you sit at his kitchen island and eat the food he cooks with such delicacy to please you because for some reason, he feels a great satisfaction seeing that happy, delighted look on your face when you try his food and enjoy it. When he comes to your apartment for dinner, which means he has visited your universe more than he has ever visited any other spider member’s dimension.

How can you believe such a thing when he has spent more time with you than any other member in the Spider Society? How can you believe that you’re no one when you sensed his troubles, universes away. When you found him, saved his life and maybe in more than one way? When you looked after him while he was recovering with such tenderness that Miguel hadn’t felt in years nor did he feel he was worthy of. When you give him your sweatshirts, rich in your comforting scent, and each morning like a broken record, he finds his face buried in the fabric, as if he can’t get close enough to your scent. He doesn’t know why and no matter how he positions himself before drifting off to sleep, he finds himself like that each morning without failure. You dare say that when your breathing lulls him to sleep each night like a sweet melody. When he could recognize your scent and the sound of your breathing in a crowd. When he buys pan dulce or the Mexican candy he knows you love because he has learned what you love best. How can you say that you’re no one when you mean so much to him?

“Don’t say that,” Miguel says with a frown, feeling upset that you’re undermining your impact on him. That you’re undermining your significance to him. “You… are more than someone to me,” he says, full of sincerity, leaving no room for discussion. “You can tell me. Please,” he continues.

The grip on your mug tightens as you hear Miguel’s words. You look up at him, eyes softening because you know admitting that alone is hard for him, yet here he is, telling you regardless and sounding upset at you for telling him you’re no one. 

He holds your gaze, letting his words sink in and hoping that his eyes give away everything else he cannot say, at least not yet. You’re more than someone to him. You’re his close friend. You matter to him, and you have for a long time. He cares about you. It all scares him - to know that he has someone to lose yet again - but there’s no way out. There’s no undoing what you’ve done to and for him. 

There simply isn’t. He has thought about it over the last two months, especially since you’ve spent so much more time together. He thought of the time before you were recruited, which is easy to remember, for it used to feel like one long, endless day. Now, after everything, he cannot go back. He can’t and doesn’t want to. If he was given the chance today to go back to that day when you first volunteered to organize his lab after Jess commented on the chaos that his lab surfaces were, he would still accept your help despite knowing that he’d be here now, afraid that he’ll experience loss and grief again but at the same time, feeling happy for the first time in a while. 

The fact that he would stick to his original choice is a sign of progress to Miguel. He can’t help but think that his past self, the Miguel from that day, would’ve declined the help immediately if he knew what would unfold over the following months. That Miguel would’ve pushed you away even more if he knew that over the next few months, you’d somehow sneak past the walls he built so high around himself. 

His past self would’ve been angry at himself for letting go. He would’ve been mad for sitting here in your living room and drinking café de olla on a Saturday like he used to with Gabriel. He would’ve been angry for sharing his ofrenda with you, or for telling you about his family. He would’ve been angry about spending time with you over the holidays. He would’ve been angry about sharing something so personal as his childhood and the not so good memories but not the Miguel of today. He cares about you because you’re his friend, and he wants to hear what’s on your mind. 

You nod slowly, seeing different emotions and thoughts on Miguel’s face; his eyes revealing things to you that his lips cannot yet disclose. You take a deep breath and at last reveal your thoughts.

“I just - I need you to know that I don’t say this with pity nor do I think you need to hear it from me, or anyone but…” you trail off continuing a few seconds later but in a whisper. “What you said about wondering if you were enough when you were little. About your mom and how she treated you, about your stepfather… I just want to tell you that you…” 

You look down at your mug, wondering why the words are so hard to say; why your heart is racing and why your hands are suddenly stuck to the mug thanks to your spidey abilities, something that is only possible when you wish for it these days, though in your early days as Spider-Woman it happened too often when you were nervous. You ignore it and look up again at Miguel, finding a small moment of opportunity.

“I wish everything was different. I wish - you deserve so much more,” you softly but quickly whisper at last, wanting to get the words out before they get trapped in your throat again but with a gentle tone that will reassure Miguel that you’re not judging him nor his life, nor are you pitying him, but rather express that you genuinely believe he deserves better than the cards life has dealt him. “You deserve so much more and you are worthy. You’re more than enough. You always have been. You always will be. Arrogant or not. With brown or red eyes. With talons and fangs, or none of it. Superhero or not. You’re a person and you’re more than enough. I know you probably don’t need to hear it these days from me or anyone else but - that’s what I wanted to say,” you finish and look down at your mug to escape his gaze, hoping that he doesn’t find your words to be too much; hoping that you didn’t overstep a boundary. You grip your mug, waiting for him to say something, anything. 

Miguel watches as you turn away, sensing your uncertainty on revealing your thoughts. He initially believed that your thoughts were harmless, just like they’ve proven to be, but then your hesitation made him worried.  Now, he understands why you were unsure of sharing them. For him and his boundaries. You’ve always been so careful and attentive to the way that certain things can be a little too much for him at times after being distant with everyone for so long. Like always, you were thinking about not making him uncomfortable. Like always, you are so considerate, so respectful.  

Miguel feels an itch to move closer to you, to comfort you the way you were trying to comfort him earlier because yes, he noticed it. He’s noticed almost every time you’ve reached out and stopped midway, remembering and respecting that line regarding physical touch. Yet, he wishes he could put his hand on your shoulder right now to get your attention. He wishes he could let his hand’s warmth be an indicator that he’s not upset but that he’s… touched. He’s touched by the fact that you think he’s enough because quite frankly, no one has ever said that to him. He tells himself it’s not something he needs but hearing it - it does something to him in that moment. 

There’s a feeling in his chest. It’s heavy and it makes his heart race. It’s so strong he even feels a little breathless as your words settle in his heart. For so many years, he has believed that he didn’t need to hear those words. Not anymore. Not since he was a child. Yet, hearing you utter those simple words - it makes him wonder if a part of him has needed them all along. Miguel feels accepted, especially after you mentioned that he was worthy with or without the very features that have always made him feel like an outcast. It’s those same features that have led to doubts about himself - about his physical appearance. He doesn’t know if it was that obvious, or maybe you were just able to pick up on his insecurities, but he knows you’re not just saying those words to say them. The fact that you mean them - it makes Miguel feel accepted and appreciated, and like a part of him has healed even. He gulps softly, feeling a knot beginning to form in his throat. He grips his own mug, suddenly feeling the clay texture. He looks at it, noticing the bear’s face on the mug for the first time. He smiles at it before turning his gaze back to you, his dear friend.

“Thank you, Y/N…” Miguel says, once he feels that knot in his throat loosen up. 

You look up, slowly. Miguel’s tone is somehow softer than before and when you meet his gaze, you can’t help but notice that his eyes look misty. He nods, smiling softly at you. The sight makes your heart race with heartache, for you can see that your words have struck something in Miguel, making you realize that maybe, he did need your words after all. A sense of relief also rushes through you at seeing that Miguel took your words well, so you smile back.

“Always, Miguel,” you whisper softly, holding his gaze before you look away to give him a moment. “I know that must not have been easy… Thank you for trusting me,” you add, knowing that it must take a lot of courage to talk about something like this. 

For a minute or two, you give Miguel some space and think about what he said earlier, about him trying. He has even brought up the words you said to him a while ago, about how talking helps with moving forward, which you find endearing because that means he has taken your words to heart. Filled with gratitude to Miguel for sharing something so personal and optimistic for his healing journey, you look at his coffee mug, remembering the bear mug. You smile softly before you break the silence at last, noticing that Miguel is already looking at you. 

“More coffee?” Miguel nods, ready to get up but you stand up before he does again. “I’ll get it for you!” you say, placing your own mug on a coaster before you retrieve the thermos from where you last left it, wishing nothing more than to comfort Miguel even in this small way. Once back on the couch and the thermos in your hand, you motion for his mug. He holds it out steady and away from both of you and your couch, to avoid any injuries or spills on it. You serve him coffee before you refill yours and settle back on the couch next to him. 

The two of you continue to drink and eat your coffee and pan dulce in yet another moment of silence, as you can sense that Miguel seems to need a moment to gather his thoughts. 

Internally, Miguel feels content as he drinks from the bear mug and finishes eating his piece of pan dulce. The knot in his throat has dissipated, and so has the mistiness in his eyes. Yet, he can’t stop thinking about your words. They keep echoing in his head because they mean that much to him. Then, there’s the fact that he’s shared something so personal and triggering for him from the past with you, but he did it. He shared it and he truly feels like a weight has fallen off his shoulders. It’s as if that part of his life no longer holds power over him because it’s out of his chest. Those memories are no longer bottled inside his heart, for him to silently carry alone. 

Those memories are out. It’s done. Miguel’s healing journey is moving along, perhaps slowly but today - today is a win for Miguel and he’s happy that he has you to share it with. He’s filled, yet again, with an immense gratitude to and for you, his dear friend. His mind goes back to whether he would change his decision from months ago and he thinks to himself that no, he wouldn’t change his decision on that fateful day you volunteered to organize the lab. 

Letting his thoughts settle down, Miguel looks at the clock on the wall realizing it’s much later in the evening, and wonders, how is it possible that the hours slip by when he’s with you? He doesn’t understand it. His gaze moves to the baby monitor placed on your coffee table. Just like Peter B. and MJ assured you, Mayday has been asleep without trouble while everything has been going on. He can’t help but think that neither of you should be drinking coffee this late but like always, neither of you really care about potentially messing up with your sleep schedules, though if Miguel is honest, his sleep is unaffected by the rich, dark liquid. As soon as he’s in bed, Miguel falls asleep as long as the recording of your breathing is playing and your sweatshirt is near his face, so he’s not worried about his sleep too much but rather yours. He wonders if he should head home now. You’ve been babysitting Mayday all day and perhaps you’re tired but… Miguel doesn’t want to leave yet. 

He doesn’t want to return to his own universe, to his own home. Not yet. He finds comfort in your presence and the new welcoming place that you’ve created for yourself two months ago. He looks around, taking notice of the changes once again even though he has become acquainted with your apartment. He’s sitting on your new couch and there’s the new rug you also bought. There are new pictures since you last rearranged your wall with photographs two months ago. He’s in some of the photographs, which still feels like a dream every time he sees himself there. It seems so surreal to Miguel sometimes; that you’ve found him worthy of being there along with all your friends, parents, and Peter. And that you’ve allowed him to be a part of your life, that you’ve welcomed him into your home not only physically but also in this way, through photographs. 

Then, there’s the bookcase with your books and some decorations, like little things that you’ve been given throughout the years as Spider-Woman for memory keeping. He can’t help but grin to himself as he remembers what a pain it was to put it together but secretly, he loved every moment of it, even if his cursing might have suggested otherwise, because he was able to spend the entire day here. He helped you build your bookcase but also with other things like rolling out your rug, and placing your furniture in different locations even though he knows you’re more than capable of doing it yourself. He remembers your chuckling when he picked up furniture with one hand like it was nothing, asking you where you wanted it placed. He also recalls feeling grateful that you allowed him to be a part of that process; a process that he needs to start at his own home. Miguel silently hopes that one of these days he’ll have the courage to do it and when he does, that you’ll like to be there for it, too. 

You drink more of your coffee, thinking about the time. You wonder if Miguel is tired after everything, or at least emotionally wise. You hope that if he is, that he will make the decision to go so he can sleep and rest properly but otherwise - you hope he stays around for a little while, even if it’s just an hour more, or even thirty minutes. 

You look over at the record player, remembering the music stopped playing a while ago. Your gaze turns to Miguel, noticing his eyes on your bookcase. You glance at it, noticing the gifts you’ve received over the years as Spider-Woman. Some of the other items, like drawings and letters,  are safely stored away. You stand up slowly, checking the baby monitor to ensure that everything is okay with Mayday. Noticing that she’s still peacefully sleeping, you walk over to your bookcase and pick up one of the items gifted to you. You stare at the knitted figure of you in your suit for a few seconds before walking closer to show it to him. Miguel looks at it, smiling softly before you offer it to him. He seems hesitant at first, as if afraid that he’ll ruin it, but seeing that you don’t retrieve your hand, he takes it. 

“This has to be one of my favorite things gifted to me. It was from an elderly woman who used to have a yarn shop a few blocks from here. She started being targeted by petty thieves, thinking she was an easy target because of her age, so I started being more vigilant around her block. She was always very nice and even baked pies for me on several occasions,” you share, smiling softly as you remember her. “They called her Mrs. Y because of the yarn,” you say with a little chuckle. “She made it for me before she passed away a few weeks later. Her store is still open, run by her family but it’s not the same without her.” 

Miguel nods, holding your knitted plushie and staring down at it. “She sounded like a lovely lady,” he says. 

You nod, turning around to see what else you can show him. You don’t know why you decided to do this but if it’ll keep him here for a little while longer and it helps to lighten up the mood after his conversation, you’ll do it. You look around at your collection while Miguel continues to look down at the knitted plushie. He notices your back to him and allows himself a moment to trace the soft yarn with his index finger, though he’s still afraid he’ll ruin it by accident with his talons somehow. Still, he glides his finger around the plushies’s head before softly gliding it down, tracing the jaw area. He removes his finger and simply holds it as he notices you begin to turn with yet something else.

“This one - it was made by a thirteen year old. She’s eighteen now. Kind of crazy how much time has passed by. She’s starting college in the fall,” you say turning around and showing him a clay figure, painted and everything. 

“You kept up with her?” Miguel asks, with raised eyebrows. 

You nod and shrug. “I tend to remember the faces of people who give me gifts. I saw her a few weeks ago and caught up with her.” 

Miguel nods, accepting the clay figure to look at it, feeling a new level of respect for you for keeping in touch with people who support you as Spider-Woman. 

“The details… This was by a thirteen year old?” he asks in awe as he examines it, noting the small details of the clay figure from the lines of your suit to the shapes. You nod, smiling. “Incredible,” he says, smiling softly. 

“I know, right? She’s so talented. And so sweet,” you say, turning around to look for more stuff. “Oh, this one has movement. It was done by an action figure creator that makes video skits of superheroes - fictional ones, of course, but she made this one and gave it to me a few years ago. Look,” you say as you come closer to him. You lean on the armrest and lower yourself to show Miguel. You press a button and watch with Miguel as your action figure’s arms move in a swinging position. “She makes skits of me sometimes, too, adding me into the mix with the fictional superheroes. She has about a million followers on her main platform.”

Miguel continues to smile as you show him a few other things, feeling relieved that he can stick around for a little while longer before he should probably head out so you can rest properly. You spend about fifteen or so minutes showing him other things and telling him about the people who gave them to you, which further amazes Miguel. He watches you with a tender look on his face as you excitedly tell him about those people, not noticing the way he’s gazing at you. Placing the last thing you showed him back on the bookshelf, you frown a little as you realize it’s the last thing and Miguel will probably leave soon. You subtly look at the time, realizing it’s so much later now and he will most definitely want to leave now.  

“Are you sleepy?” Miguel asks, pulling your gaze to him. 

“No, not at all... Are you?” you ask, holding his gaze. 

“No.” 

You smile slowly, happy on the inside that he’s not sleepy yet, which means he might stay for a bit longer. You nod to yourself after a few seconds, still standing next to your bookshelf. 

“Didn’t even realize the music stopped,” you say at last, even though you did at some point. You walk to the record player again, remembering how Mayday pulled one of the vinyl records earlier. You smile as your eyes scan the titles before you tell Miguel about it. 

“I was able to catch it just in time before it hit her or it got damaged. I can only imagine the fun Peter and MJ are going to have in one more year, or even a few more months, when she’s fully walking,” you say, eliciting a low chuckle from Miguel who nods. 

“Oh, I can imagine alright. She already has Peter running around HQ,” he replies, thinking of the many times Lyla has shown him live footage of it. 

You laugh softly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about as you’ve witnessed it in person before, and have even helped him, along with your friends, catch her sometimes. At last, you pull a vinyl record. You hold it for a few seconds. You usually don’t play her music unless it’s Peter’s birthday or if you’re really in the mood to listen to her because otherwise you get emotional but for some reason, you find yourself wanting to play it now. You put it on, deciding that you can put something else if you find it to be too much even after four years. 

Billie Holiday’s voice fills your living room once again. It’s strange at first to hear her familiar voice, even though Holiday used to fill your ears regularly thanks to Peter. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” you say quietly, walking back to the couch. 

“I don’t,” Miguel replies, staring at the record player as you settle nearby. 

You pick up your mug and drink more coffee as the familiar notes fill the air. You wait for it. For the knot to form in your throat, the tears to swell in your eyes, and your chest to tighten with grief, pain, and longing but none of those things come. For once in four years, you can hear her voice again without crying even when “Solitude” comes on, a song that you related to so much those first years after Peter’s death. 

You drink your coffee and listen to the lyrics, remembering nights in which you’d sit on one of your kitchen island chairs, the one that became your unassigned assigned chair. You’d turn to the other one, knowing its unassigned assigned person would never sit on it again. You wondered, how was that possible when he had been sitting there just hours, days, weeks, months ago eating next to you while you talked about anything and everything. How was it possible that he no longer sat there? He was there and then he wasn’t.  There was no one or anything but solitude as your mind taunted you with memories, filling your already despaired heart with even more torment. 

Smiling softly, you sip more of your coffee and think about your own progress. You glance at a photo of Peter, knowing that wherever he is, he must be happy you’re playing his vinyl records and that you’re listening to one of his favorite artists again without breaking down. You sigh and look over at Miguel, noticing that he seems to be paying close attention to the lyrics. He turns to look at you, his gaze is soft and sympathetic as his mind is filled with an image of you sitting here in your apartment alone. The image alone breaks his heart in pieces, even when you give him a reassuring smile. 

“I used to be unable to listen to her and a few other artists. She was one of his favorites,” you start. “Every time I played it - when I told myself I could do it, that I’d finally be able to - I wasn’t able to and I’d just end up - you know. Crying,” you say, looking down with a weak chuckle. “I only listen to this music when it’s his birthday but for some reason, I felt like listening to it now and I’m okay,” you say, looking up at Miguel again. You smile more brightly this time. “Progress.” 

“Progress,” he repeats, softly. Miguel returns the smile with a soft gaze yet his mind is still occupied by the same image of you alone in this apartment. He heartily wishes, more than ever, that he found your universe sooner because if he had, you wouldn’t have been alone for so many years. Miguel felt lonely so many times when there were people around him. He often wondered what was worse - being completely alone or surrounded by people and still feeling lonely. Yet, as he thinks of you all alone for three years, he decides that the latter is the least worst of the two. His mind is overrun by so many thoughts and images, and the more he thinks about it, the more he wishes he could change the past for he realizes you had no one to talk to about your loss and grief, even if you had wanted to because as Miguel has learned, you distanced yourself from your friends.  

He wonders… Did you only talk when you were out on patrols? How much time went by before your apartment walls heard your voice or laugh again? How many times did these walls witness your tears and grief? It all breaks Miguel’s heart.

“I wish… I wish I would’ve found your universe sooner,” Miguel quietly reveals. 

You smile, touched by his revelation. After a few seconds of thinking, you reply. “You found me at the right time.”

Miguel nods slowly at your words but asks himself, did he? Was it meant to happen until then? Would you’ve still joined the Spider Society if your universe had been discovered a few months before? He recalls that you declined Jess’s recruitment a few times even then and you only joined when she brought up your Peter. He mentally sends his gratitude to Peter for Miguel doesn’t want to even imagine the possibility of you not joining. So, he silently agrees with you that it was the right time if the outcome was you joining. 

You finish your coffee and reach for the thermos to refill your mug, which brings Miguel back to the present. He grins at you. 

“You’re not going to sleep at all tonight,” he mutters, amused. 

You grin as you refill your mug. “I’m okay with that. I’m not sleepy anyway. I’m going to stay up and listen to music here,” you say, motioning to your living room. 

At that, Miguel’s mind wanders. Would you mind if he stayed, just a little longer?

“You’re more than welcome to stick around. Besides, I just remembered I bought some new snacks to try when I went grocery shopping earlier this week. I think right now is the perfect time to do taste tests,” you say, still grinning. 

Miguel grins back, feeling a wave of happiness rush through him now that he’s staying a little longer. “What did you buy?”

With much more lighthearted music, Miguel and you sit on the couch to try the new snacks, little by little. You talk about anything and everything, like what made you buy a specific snack and how when Miguel helped the little kid get the piñata down, the kid told him that he looked like he could be Spider-Man 2099, so Miguel only grinned at them.

You check up on Mayday often, though she sleeps peacefully. 

You both realize it’s morning when you notice the sun streaming through your living room’s windows, announcing the beginning of a new day. Somehow the hours went by in your cozy apartment without your knowledge. Staring at the sunlight, the two of you grin softly as you both realize that you’ve spent the entire night in each other’s company. 

As he takes a drink of water, Miguel realizes that this is his first all-nighter in two months. He’s overcome by this fact alone, for two months ago not having an all-nighter seemed impossible to Miguel but here he is. His first all-nighter in two months, and the first one with someone by his side at that. 

You turn towards the baby monitor on your coffee table. You’ve kept it in the same place the entire night to monitor Mayday and at last, it notifies you that there’s movement and noise. You pick it up to check the notification, briefly checking the time on the clock. It’s past 7:30, which reminds you about the schedule. 

“Right, MJ and Peter said she wakes up around 7:30,” you say, seeing Mayday begin to move around. You grin and show Miguel the screen just as Mayday stretches her short arms, yawning. 

You subtly look at him, noticing the small grin and tender look on his face as he watches Mayday through the screen before looking away, thinking once again about Miguel as a father. You hum softly and put the baby monitor away, suddenly wondering if he was okay with being around Mayday so much yesterday but then remember that he didn’t seem to mind as he did come over knowing she was going to be here. 

“I’m going to go and check up on her. She has her breakfast in about thirty minutes. Peter should be dropping by 9 or so to pick her up,” you say, running through the end of the schedule as you stand up, stretching slightly. 

Miguel nods, shifting in his seat to stretch himself. 

“If you want to come with me you can,” you say, gesturing to your bedroom. 

“Thank you. I - I will. If you don’t mind, I'd like to wash my hands first. I think my hands still smell like the last snack we had,” he says with a sheepish smile. 

You chuckle and nod. “Of course, go ahead. I’ll be in the bedroom!” you say before you head over to your room where you find a sleepy Mayday already sitting, Spider-Ham plushie in hand. You quietly greet her with a smile to avoid startling her but once she sees you, Mayday seems to brighten up. You laugh softly as you reach her. 

“Someone seems happy to see me. Slept good, baby?” you ask her, unable to stop yourself from babying her at the sight of her sweet smile and messy hair. You approach her, expecting Mayday to get herself out of her sleeping setup but no, she waits for you to pick her up, so you do that just as you remember what Peter B. said. 

“She likes cuddles in the morning. Oh - and sometimes she likes to do a spidey dance.”

“A spidey dance?” you asked, with a raised eyebrow. 

Peter nodded before giving you an apologetic look. “Oh man, I hope she doesn’t do it. It’s not a problem since it’s always us who wake her up - this is the first morning we’ll spend away from her,” Peter said with a little pout. “But, MJ showed her this video of someone dancing, or moving like a spider because you know,” he said, pointing at himself. “And she’s been obsessed with it ever since. If we don’t do it, she gets teary eyed with us but hopefully she won’t do it tomorrow with you.”

“And what do these poses look like exactly?” you asked with your eyebrow still raised.

Peter sighed deeply. “You don’t have to do it. Maybe distract her with something else, but just in case, it looks like this” he said, before he showed you said spidey dance. 

You hold Mayday as she cuddles up to your chest, hoping it’s just cuddles for this morning and no spidey dance but you hope too soon because Mayday starts waving her arms around similarly to the way Peter did yesterday when he showed you the dance. 

“Oh…” you say, realizing. You look towards the door, noticing Miguel hasn’t come in yet. “Look - Spider-Ham plushie. Here he is,” you say, showing him to her, trying to distract her. It works for about thirty seconds before she starts waving her arms again. “You’re really gonna make me do the spidey dance, aren’t you?” you ask quietly. “First, you beat me with Spider-Ham plushie, which I’m telling him about. Then, you do the kissy thing with the action figures, and now you’re gonna make me do this in front of Miguel?” you add quietly, amused and yet feeling embarrassed. “You got something against me?” 

With a sigh you sit down and set her down in front of you. You watch in surprise as she starts doing it herself, causing you to giggle. 

“Okay, well it’s cute when you’re doing it. I'll say that,” you say, still giggling. 

Mayday grins at you, happy to show you her little spidey dance but it doesn’t last long. She stops and begins to wave her arms at you, as if telling you to go on because it’s your turn. You look over at the door, no sign of Miguel yet. In fact, you can hear the water running from the kitchen. You turn to Mayday, finding a pout and a sad expression. 

“Okay, okay, I’m doing it but this stays between us,” you quietly say before you copy her dance from earlier, which is supposed to be some dance that imitates the way a spider moves. You run through it quickly, moving your arms around like she did earlier. “Okay, there we go. Spidey dance for the morning, done.” You sit on the floor again as Mayday giggles excitedly, and wonder if she has something against you this weekend when you see it, or rather him. 

Your eyes land on Miguel’s legs before they travel up his body, until you meet his gaze. For the third time in twenty four hours, you feel heat flood your cheeks. You notice the amusement in his face before he turns to the side, trying to hide a chuckle as a cough, though he gives up and just chuckles quietly. You sigh deeply, embarrassed and yet amused. Miguel’s chuckle slowly fades as he leans on your bedroom’s doorway once again, arms crossed over his chest with a grin.

“So, that’s the spidey dance,” he says, tone laced with amusement. 

“That’s the spidey dance.”

“Peter has talked about it.”

“It’s a good thing he’s only talked about it and not shown you,” you reply, finally giving him a smile. “It looks cute when kids do it. Not so much with adults,” you say with a little grimace, knowing Miguel watched you do it. 

“I think - you did it justice,” he says, raising his eyebrow slightly, which makes the heat in your face intensify. 

“Thanks,” you mutter quietly, wishing your Earth would open up right now and swallow you whole. 

“I doubt Peter looked half as graceful as you did,” Miguel offers. 

You shake your head softly but smile, not knowing what else to say to that so instead, you swiftly scoop up Mayday in your arms, taking her by surprise, which makes her laugh. 

“Time for breakfast,” you tell her and then look at Miguel, thinking for a few seconds and pushing past your embarrassment. “Would you like to stay for breakfast?”

Still leaning on the doorway, Miguel grins softly for a second before he frowns, remembering. “That sounds great, but are you not tired?” he asks, his tone laced with concern. 

You grin and shake your head. “I’m good. Are you tired?”

Miguel holds your gaze. “I’m not.”

You nod, smiling. “Then… Do you want to stay for breakfast?”

He watches you for a few seconds, assessing your face to see if you’re telling the truth. He knows you’ve been up since yesterday morning, probably have been awake close to, if not the exact twenty-four hours by now. The last thing Miguel wants is to keep you up any longer. Looking at your face, however, all he sees is your bright smile and happy demeanor, surprisingly finding no trace of sleepiness or exhaustion. He nods at last and that grin comes back to his face as he continues to lean on your bedroom’s doorway, taking up the entirety of the space. 

“I’d love to,” he replies quietly. 

“Great! To the kitchen then,” you say with a smile. “Off we go, Mayday - Oh, right,” you stop and turn around to grab Spider-Ham. “Can’t forget him, can we?” 

Miguel steps out of the bedroom to let you through, smiling to himself as he hears you talk to Mayday before you lead the way to your kitchen. You place Mayday in her high chair and hand Spider-Ham to her, just as Miguel stands next to her. 

“May I help you with something?” he asks, looking around at the clean kitchen since the two of you put away the leftovers at some point during the night to avoid the food going bad. 

You move around your kitchen with ease, preparing Mayday’s breakfast. “I got it under control, thank you though. You go ahead and take a seat or - if you want, you can play some music.” 

Miguel’s eyebrow raises slightly as he watches you prepare Mayday’s breakfast while simultaneously setting up your coffee maker. He looks back at the record player. 

“Okay - I can do that,” he replies quietly before walking across your living room. He stares at the record player for a few seconds. It’s not that he doesn't know how to use it, he’s just not sure if he should touch it since he knows it was Peter’s. What if he accidentally breaks it? With a soft sigh, he tries to ease his nervousness about it and gazes at the collection of vinyls. He reads the titles, trying to see if he recognizes anything besides Billie Holiday. At last, he pulls out a record that catches his attention. He turns to the record player again before he places the record on the turntable and sets it to play, mindful of his every move. He steps back as the music starts playing and adjusts the volume before he heads back to the kitchen island. His eyes find you sitting next to Mayday now, offering her a spoonful of food that she happily accepts. He glances at the stove, noticing a few pans that you’ve set out to start heating. 

“Coffee should be ready soon,” you tell him as you gently wipe the corner of Mayday’s mouth, listening to the music Miguel chose. You hum softly in appreciation. It’s the perfect music to start the day with. “Nice choice of music.”

“Thank you,” Miguel says with a small grin, glad you like his selection. He takes a seat next to you, watching quietly as you feed Mayday, feeling at peace. He briefly remembers this is around the time he heads to HQ on the weekends but he tells himself that he’ll go later. 

You hear the coffee maker finish so you set Mayday’s food down after giving her another spoonful to prepare the coffee. 

“Are you sure I can’t help you with something?” Miguel asks, looking at Mayday and then at you as you retrieve two mugs. 

“I’m sure,” you say as you serve the coffee. “But thank you for offering. Here’s some coffee. Not as good as café de olla but something to start the day with,” you say with a smile as you place the mug in front of him on the counter before you check the stove. 

“Thank you.” 

“Always,” you reply, seeing that the pans are not ready yet, so you return to feeding Mayday. 

Miguel notices this, of course. “I can help if you want. With the cooking,” he softly clarifies because he’s not sure he can feed Mayday without thinking of Gabriella. He wasn’t there for Gabriella’s early years but there were times he’d still mouth feed her. Even though he has slowly found those memories to be less painful to think about, there’s still heartache from them.

You nod softly, understanding what’s happening. “Don’t worry about it. I’m almost done feeding her, see?” you show him the container. “Plus, my stove is on the older side, so it takes a little longer. I won’t be running around doing both things, so don’t worry,” you reassure him, smiling to yourself as you turn to face Mayday. You say nothing else but find it sweet that he’s offering to cook just so you’re not cooking and feeding Mayday at the same time. 

As promised, you finish feeding Mayday and get started on breakfast. You move through your kitchen, listening to Mayday babble to Miguel, who quietly responds back, and the music he selected. The scent of breakfast surrounds you and there’s a lovely glow around your apartment from the sun’s rays. As you check the food on a pan, you think about what a wonderful Sunday morning this is. Smiling, you shake your head softly and continue to cook, brushing off your thoughts. 

At last, breakfast is ready. Miguel and you sit at the kitchen island to eat with Mayday, who keeps showing off her Spider-Ham plushie like she didn’t hit you with it yesterday and allowed you to hear Miguel’s lovely chuckle. All throughout the meal, Miguel and you talk, and simply enjoy the moment with Mayday.

Shortly after Miguel and you finish breakfast, a portal opens up in your living room, causing Mayday to giggle in her high chair. The two of you turn around just as Peter B. steps out. 

“Goo-” he starts but pauses for a second when he notices Miguel, surprised to find him in your apartment. Even though Peter B. knows about the Saturday dinners, the sight of the Spider Society’s leader in your apartment is still shocking. He clears his throat and smiles warmly, somewhat recovering from his initial shock. “Good morning, guys…! Sorry for interrupting your breakfast.”

“It’s alright. We just finished,” you say, standing up. “How was the event?  Did you guys have fun?” 

Peter nods and begins to tell you and Miguel about the event and how much fun it was to catch up with old high school friends. Miguel watches from his seat as Peter thanks you profusely and even gives you a little gift both him and MJ bought to show their appreciation. After helping Peter take everything back to his universe, and MJ and him thanking you again, you and Miguel say bye to the Parkers and head back to your universe. Neither of you notice the discreet glance between the adult Parkers as Miguel and you head out. 

You step out of the portal first with Miguel behind, and head to your kitchen area but he lingers by the portal, looking at the time again. It’s close to 10am now and he’s sure you must be sleepy, so at last, Miguel decides it’s time to go home. He offers to help you clean up and even though you politely decline at first, you end up letting him help you with some things, sensing that he’s about to leave. You finish wiping the last counter just as he puts away the last mug before you turn to face each other in your small kitchen. 

The time has come. 

You smile at him. “Thank you for bringing dinner here again. I know I already said it but - seriously, thank you. I loved it, as I loved the café de olla and pan dulce. And thank you for… Trusting me,” you quietly say. 

Miguel nods, smiling softly. “Thank you for listening to me. I truly appreciate it,” he replies in an equally quiet tone, even though it’s just the two of you in your apartment. 

“Always,” you respond. “I’m here for you.”

Miguel continues to smile and gives you another little nod. He looks off to the side for a few seconds, the words at the tip of his tongue. He’s said them out loud before, just not to your face, back on Dia de los Muertos, when you first uttered them to him. He wanted to say them back that night but he couldn’t. He had to settle for the next best thing, so he said them after you were gone but now… His eyes meet yours. “I’m… here for you, too,” he says, softly, at last.

Your smile grows and Miguel can see a little twinkle in your eyes at his words, though you try to keep your reaction as normal as possible because you know these words are not the easiest for Miguel to express. So, you smile and nod, clearing your throat softly despite the happiness you’re feeling right now.

“I almost forgot - let me get you the sweatshirt.” 

You withdraw to your bedroom, returning in seconds with this week’s sweatshirt. You offer it to him and like always, Miguel accepts it with a grateful yet sheepish look on his face. 

Miguel thanks you as he takes a quick glance at the sweatshirt, already being able to smell your scent on it. He has figured out that the best days are the first four days when your scent is the strongest on it. On the rest of the days before you exchange, he has to bundle up the sweatshirt to get a decent amount of your scent from it. 

He returns his gaze to you, knowing that he must go now. 

“Thank you, for - everything,” he says with a soft grin. 

“Always,” you reply. 

“You should rest,” he says with a little frown, though still smiling as he opens up a portal. “I’ll see you tomorrow at HQ.”

“I’ll see you there, as always. And - to be honest, I’m still not tired.”

Miguel’s eyebrow raises as he walks backwards towards the portal, holding eye contact. 

“But I’ll rest, don’t worry,” you add, noticing the concern in his eyes. 

He nods, satisfied with your words and stopping right at the portal. “Good. You’ll need rest after babysitting for a whole day and…” Miguel pauses, looking to the side for a second before looking back, as if thinking. “.. after the little dance party the two of you had yesterday, plus the spidey dance from this morning. And, there’s also Spider-Ham’s hit to your head. You should really rest,” he says with a serious face, though his eyes and tone reveal amusement. 

“I see,” you say, looking to the side in amusement yet surprise because Miguel seems to be poking fun at you, allowing you to see a side of him you haven’t seen before. You follow along and smile. “I’ll definitely rest. Don’t want my exhaustion and head injury to interfere with my duties.” 

“I would hate for that to happen,” Miguel replies, stepping into the portal, unable to stop himself from giving you a small grin now. “You’re an irreplaceable member of the Spider Society,” he says, meaning it. 

You grin back, sensing the sincerity in his tone now. “I shall rest properly tonight then. I don’t want to disappoint my colleagues.”

Miguel nods, grinning. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See you tomorrow, Miguel,” you reply with a bright smile. 

With that, Miguel gives you another nod and turns around. He walks into the portal, sweatshirt in hand. You watch his back until he disappears, and even then, you continue to stare at the portal until it, too, disappears. You look towards your windows and sigh softly, smiling.

“Irreplaceable,” you whisper. ______________________________

Translations: Agua de Jamaica - hibiscus tea Café de olla - coffee made in a pot Pan Dulce - Mexican pastries; sweet bread Mijo - term of endearment for a male friend or relative; translates to "my son" Conchas - literally translates to seashell; a kind of pan dulce Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead Ofrenda - an altar for Day of the Dead Piñata - you know this Carniceros - meat butchers "El Primo" - "the cousin;" it's just a nickname from the carniceros, they're not actually related to Miguel; Latin people give each other nicknames, sometimes they make no sense lol; don't mind me just imagining Miguel giving reader a nickname in the future AHH

Long A/N: If you read this far, thank you!! I swear I didn't think it was going to be this lengthy! I want to say that the upcoming parts will be shorter but I'm not sure. Either way, if you have read this far in the story, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I hope you guys have enjoyed it! I also want to say sorry for taking so long to update! I got caught up with the holidays and other things like work and family. To be honest, I don't know if I'll have another update before the new year. I will try my very best but I also don't want to post a rushed and unedited part. So, if this turns out to be the last update of the year for "Nonviolent Communication," I'll go ahead and wish you all happy and warm holidays!! ❤️ I'm going to make a few dedications and mentions now. First, I'm going to dedicate this part for all the readers whose birthdays are this month! In one of my posts (you can also spot the bear mug I included in this part here. Did I buy this mug just because I imagined Miguel holding it as soon as I spotted it? Yes, I did), I discovered that some readers have birthdays this month like me, so happy early birthdays to you guys and everyone else whose birthday is on this month! @moonygirlsworld @giulscomix @lauraolar14

This part had inspo from some lovely readers, so I wanted to give them a shoutout as well! @sunsetdoodler has created BEAUTIFUL art for the fic and inspired me so much throughout the story! The detail about reader's version of Peter buying too much merch and their friends thinking Peter has a crush on Spider-Woman was inspired by this fanart! We both have a soft spot for reader's Peter 🥹 The spidey dance idea came from @giulscomix who thought of reader doing it and Miguel seeing her. I really enjoyed writing reader all embarrassed after doing it, haha! So, thank you!

As mentioned before, there's so much fanart for "Nonviolent Communication" - which, I'm so incredibly THANKFUL FOR!! It's one of the best things that has ever happened to me and makes me so happy that I decided to write online again after so many years of not doing so. Thank you so much to the wonderful artists! Please know it means the world to me!!! You can find all fanart in my masterlist. Please go and take a look at everything as these talented artists have brought to life so many scenes from the fic, and show them some love!! ❤️ Very briefly, I don't want to make this even longer than it already is but I want to talk about the script for ATSV. I've seen some fans that work in the industry say that there are several versions of a movie script sometimes and that the version we saw might be an early edition, which makes total sense that there would be multiple, but that doesn't take away my sadness, anger, and disappointment for how Miguel is described in this particular version. I had already started working on this part before the script was released, so Miguel's talk about his features/appearance and him feeling like an outcast, was already in the works. I had a feeling that this was the idea the team was going with based on the way he was talked about by other characters and the way he was animated to move, so I wasn't entirely surprised but I'm still very sad about it. However, I'm very happy by the fact that so many of us see Miguel for who he really is!!! He's a soft giant that has gone through so much already based on what we've seen and he deserves better. I wish it had just been part of the fic and that there wasn't actual evidence from the script that supported my suspicions, but at least I got to tell Miguel that he's worthy, no matter what through this fic. ❤️🥺

In other unimportant but funny news, my Spotify Wrapped revealed that I listened to the song "Nonviolent Communication" 639 times since June 13th (the day I went to watch the movie) and I've probably heard it about 40 more times since the Spotify Wrapped dropped lol. So... there's that! I don't know what that says about me but anyway, that's it! I'm going to try and write short one-shots for the rest of the month and obviously work on this fic. I have a Christmas one-shot in mind and I'm also planning another fic, which has been stuck on my mind for some time and it's making me so sad 😭 Hoping I can launch it sometime in January but we'll see. That's all for real now! Thank you so much for reading "Nonviolent Communication" and for sticking around! All your support towards this fic means so much to me! I hope you all have a wonderful weekend, and again, happy holidays just in case!!! -Alondra

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

[neiptune]

just her color

cw: 2.7 wc, female reader, violence, gore, it gets pretty descriptive, slightly nsfw (y'all have sex lol), dark academia(ish) setting

“A girl has been found dead on campus” Jean’s brows are furrowed as he skims through his twitter timeline “shit, I think I know who she is?”

“What?” Sasha straightens up in her seat, iced latte promptly put down. The table grows silent, you’ve grabbed Jean’s wrist to peek at his screen in disbelief. Someone dying at your college, the most boring place on earth, is difficult to believe.

“Holy shit” you let go of your friend’s wrist and meet Sasha’s gaze “it’s Yuki. Remember? She used to be in our history class”

She opens her mouth in a small “o”, realization freezing her surprised features.

“Nakamura Yuki?” Eren’s breath catches in his throat “that’s impossible, I literally saw her last week. Didn’t she tutor students with you, ‘Min?”

“Yeah but that was last year” Armin shakes his head “what the hell happened? From what I remember she didn’t care for parties or weird companies”

“Not sure, they’re jut saying she’s been found outside her dorm” Jean puts away his phone with a grim look on his face, cappuccino long forgotten. Connie used to have a crush on that girl, he hopes to find him before he has the chance to get the news from social media.

“Do you guys think it was an accident?” all pigment seems to have been sucked out of Eren’s face and you instinctively push back some of the hair from his forehead.

“An accident? What d’you mean?” you tilt your head to the side, pose the question carefully weighing each word.

“I don’t know. Alcohol poisoning? Maybe someone spiked her drink?”

A shudder teases your spine, almost makes you retract your hand. “So you’re saying… someone did it?”

“Not on purpose. I’m just speculating”

“Why?” Sasha chimes in “stop it, it’s weird. If something’s off, the school is gonna tell us”

“Yeah, right, they definitely will” you scoff.

“Maybe it was like a heart attack” Armin seems unconvinced himself as he finishes his tea, surely gone cold by now.

“Sure, that sounds likely” you push back the mug containing your black coffee, suddenly nauseous “next time my parents ask how things are going up here, I’ll finally have the perfect answer. Oh, you’ll never guess the novelty: girls are being murdered on campus now!”

“No one’s been murdered” Eren is annoyed and eager to change the subject. Everyone else is too. You kinda get it: it’s weird that a girl you all somehow knew is suddenly dead, it’s even weirder that something so dreadful had to happen on your campus of all places.

On the slopes of mount Rokko, in Kobe, nothing really ever happens. You attend a private university that counts a few thousand students and an international exchange program that no one really ever applies to. Your professors like to call the insistution “Kobe’s best kept secret” but to you that’s just a pretentious way to present an old school with an even older set of rules that simply make your lives excruciatingly harder. No visits allowed except for graduations or special ceremonies, everyone is supposed to be in their rooms by 9:30 pm (as security keeps a record of students who are caught roaming in the corridors at night), no one is allowed to leave the building except for Sundays and even then if you don’t have your identity card with you, the chances that you’ll spend the night in the woods are pretty high because security doesn’t really give a shit.

But if they don’t mind leaving students locked outside for the night (it has happed), the appreciation for bribes runs equally high: it’s not uncommon among students to offer as much as ¥308,230 to buy their silence for a plethora of activities. Money is power even on top of mount Rokko and it can be used to secure sex, parties, drugs, alcohol, just like it does anywhere else.

Which is why everyone seems to be asking themselves the same question: who the hell used money to secure an assassination?

Soon after the finding and despite the rector’s efforts, Yuki’s picture was passed around in group chats and social media posts like a collectible card. Most senders had the decency to forward the blurred version of the photo but pretty much everyone saw the first, original variant, and the school couldn’t keep it a secret for a minute longer: a murder it was.

You spent the following days unable to get proper sleep, eyes wide open scanning the ceiling for the majority of the night, the image of that girl’s empty, horrified stare chasing you until dawn, pulse rapidly tapping against your skin at the thought. Sasha doesn’t speak of her nightmares but you’re sure they resemble your own dreams: one hand pointlessly closed around a pale throat slashed open, the dark halo of thin hair framing a face gone cold, liquid red lipstick smeared across lips like a macabre tribute to joker.

If few can get out of the school, basically no stranger can step foot inside. Which means, and every single female student is painfully aware of it, that they are sharing their campus with a killer.

You’ve all been moving in packs lately, no girl has been seen wandering around the school without her friends or boyfriend and you’re no exception: if Sasha is almost always escorted by Jean and Connie, Eren basically refuses to leave your side and has been staying the night more and more often.

“I know cops freak you out” he tries to keep the spirits high, indulges in some humor to ease part of the tension in your shoulders as the investigation unfolds and strangers search your dorm a million times.

“Pigs” you utter under your breath shortly before flashing a smile to one of the officers you pass by on your way to class “how dumb d’you have to be to be still groping in the dark? They’re clueless”

He shrugs, trying hard to suppress a smirk because what the hell, they’re only there because a girl has been murdered and it wouldn’t be appropriate to smile “they’ll never figure it out anyway”

You look up at him, confusion evident by the crease between your brows. Eren clears his throat.

“Everyone knows the school wants to handle this shit internally” he lowers his voice in a murmur “I wouldn’t be surprised if the rector was actually trying to get rid of them”

“What the fuck? Why would he do that? Parents are already freaking out, threatening to pick up their kids and cancel their enrollments, does the rector want to reign over an abandoned bulk of shitty old bricks?”

“How much did you look into those articles about our school that Armin sent us last year?” Eren tilts his head a little, an amused twitch of the lips indicating that he’s about to do the thing you hate the most: be a smartass.

“Not much” you stand defeated and your boyfriend grins.

“It’s not the first time someone’s died here, Gako has a pretty long history of secret societies that are believed to have performed some fucked up initiations. It’s mainly why we don’t have them anymore, at least officially. The degree of independence from the rectorate was pretty high, they essentially had an agreement: vivit et vivet”.

“What?” your brows furrow, skeptical. Eren basks in your confusion.

“Live and let live. Keep your nose out of our business and we’ll do our best to stay discreet”

You refrain from asking where the fuck he even learned latin as a more urgent question arises. “But why would the rectorate even agree?”

“Those students came from some of the richest, most influential families of the Taisho era. Gako cares a lot about history and tradition and…”

“Prestige”

Eren nods.

“They kept the money flowing and the name shining. Those societies were Gako, I bet our current rector himself is an ex member of the Cauda Venenum or whatever the fuck it was”

There’s a pause as the story sinks in, all the implications that single revelation could hold. “Wow. You seem to have really enjoyed those articles, Armin must’ve been thrilled”

He laughs a bit at that and shrugs, pulls you closer to his body, pretends not to notice the inkling shadow of suspicion quivering beneath the surface of your words.

You don’t point out that what happened to Yuki is far from resembling an initiation, nor you dwell on the main undertone of the entire conversation: if what Eren said is true, the case could very well remain unsolved and the murderer would be allowed to roam free through the halls, perhaps for evermore. The mere thought sends a chill down your spine. Vivit et vivet.

The Yuki topic is banned from being discussed with Sasha, she gets nervous really easily and is already painfully on edge every single day. Despite Jean and Connie basically never leaving her side, you know part of her wishes she had a boyfriend to rely on or keep close at night, one that would pull her into him as she wakes up from those hellish nightmares, chest heaving painfully. That’s precisely why you don’t bring up Eren to her: not his weirdly cemented assumptions, not the fact that you want to keep your distance for at least a day or two. And so, as it often happens, Armin becomes the designated listener to all your bitching and moaning.

“He’s just being weird, I guess” you grumble over breakfast, a portion of blueberry pancakes covered in dense syrup “and I don’t know how to make it clear to him”

“How to make what clear to him?”

“That he’s giving me the creeps”

Your friend chuckles at that.

“I’m sure Eren’s simply as freaked out as everyone else, he’s just trying to make sense out of the whole thing. I do appreciate that at least someone went through the material I shared, though”

“I was plannin’ to” you protest “eventually”

“Sure you were” Armin rolls his eyes but there’s fondness in his resigned gaze.

A comfortable silence drapes over the two of you as you keep eating, the chatter floating around the mess hall reaches you like the rolling of heavy, long sea waves. There’s a storm raging outside, although not much can be seen from the stained glass windows that are closer to the vaulted ceilings than the long, wooden tables filled with students. The only real indicators are the distant rumbling of the thunder and a group of pupils who barged through the doors soaked from head to toe.

“I know you’re just as scared, y’know” Armin calmly cuts through the silence, eyes on his now empty plate “even if you always wanna act all tough”

“Yes, I’ll admit I’m slightly nervous at the idea that a murderer is currently wandering around our school and that our rector may very well be doing nothing to actually find said homicidal maniac” the words come out harsher than intended so you try to soften them around the edges “sorry, I just… it’s shitty. And I feel like I don’t get to complain because I have a boyfriend who is always making sure I’m not lonely or scared while…”

“Sasha doesn’t?”

Ugh, Armin. Ever the receptive empath.

You hang your head lower, shoulders hunched. He offers another one of his gentle smiles.

“A student has been found with her throat split open, on campus. I think you get a pass for being nervous about it, even if you have a boyfriend”

“Thank you, ‘Min” the smile you offer in exchange is probably not as sweet nor fully persuaded but you do truly appreciate his courtesy.

When you get back to your room at the end of a very long, tiring and unfortunately wet day (you 100% forgot to bring your just-in-case umbrella and thought running would be a safe, dry enough strategy to bolt from one class to the other), all you want is to kick off your muddy shoes, add some logs to the fireplace, take a piping hot shower and melt into the comfort of your bed. However, it’s not often you have the room all to yourself: Sasha is going to spend the night in Connie’s room, the only place in the entire school where she feels safe enough to get a good night sleep.

You decide to text Eren and ask him to come over. Although you never directly addressed your concerns or discomfort, he must’ve sensed the desire to keep to yourself for a few days and he’s been gracious enough to step back and grant some space. You don’t necessarily feel guilty about it but you’d lie if you said you didn’t miss him and his stupid, sometimes awfully inappropriate jokes. You’re in love with him after all, insufferably in love one could say (and Jean has before).

Eren is the one person you’d do everything for, the only man you could dedicate your entire life to. And it’s not just because he’s attractive, emotionally intelligent, a good friend and just generally a kind, good-hearted person. It’s because he loves you just as much, knows that you were made for each other, like a perfect match determined by a superior force, some higher power, a deity that held a flame to both your hearts and sealed your fate for all eternity. That’s how being in love with Eren feels.

That’s what you always think about when he fucks you into the mattress, as you moan as loud as he likes it, as you beg for him to go faster, harder, whenever he teases you with a painfully slow roll of the hips. He knows you belong to him just as much as he belongs to you and, god, what never fails to send you over the edge each time is the thought that he adores belonging to you more than he enjoys owning you. You have him, all of him, and by god you’ll make sure that never changes.

Tonight, the thought of Yuki infiltrates your brain once more, no matter how much you work to keep it at bay. What did she feel while being slashed open? Did she die from damage to the trachea or the carotid arteries? The latter seems to be more likely, the blood vessels the run up each side of the neck will bleed profusely if severed and she did bleed a lot, probably ended up chocking on her own blood, right as the blood flow to the brain was compromised. Still, you hope her heart didn’t stop too quickly.

Most people believe that cutting a human’s throat is the same as slahing open an animal’s. But you’re not supposed to place the knife at right angle only to press and draw it across the skin: the best way is actually to find the soft spot below the junction of the jaw and the neck, position the point of the knife right there and thrust it in, gently guiding the blade along the bundle of neck cords until you reach the same soft spot on the opposite side. The correct location is not hard to find: tracing a finger back from the lower jawbone to the place where the bone turns upwards and then lowering it slightly is just enough.

You wonder if forensic pathologists have been allowed to take a look at the body, if the autopsy reported that a right handed person has firmly restrained the victim from behind despite no weapon having been recovered from the crime scene.

What a loss, ever the tragedy, a young and pretty life being severed so early on. She was lovely, especially with that little cherry lipstick she’d always carry around, the one that complimented her fair skin perfectly. You didn’t want her to bid farewell to this world with an ugly face, not when red looked so good on her. Burgundy was just her color.

Eren is showering when his phone, left on your nightstand, lights up.

(Aiko, 10:07 pm) hey!

(Aiko, 10:07 pm) working on that paper today was really fun :) wanna meet up again tomorrow?

(Aiko, 10:08 pm) this time I promise coffee is on me

Good grief.

There’s never really an end to the ladies you have to deal with, is there?

[clockwayswrites]

This isn’t me feeding you all this week.

Timeline Masterpost Wc:1535

“Hey, sorry. Do you have anything that’s good at getting out blood stains?”

Jason blinked sleepily down Danny, who was standing at his door with a pair of jeans and a shirt clutched in his hand.

A hastily bandaged hand.

Jason resigned himself to waking up the rest of the way. “What did you do to yourself?”

The answer was lost as Danny ducked his head down in embarrassment.

“Didn’t quite get that,” Jason drawled.

Danny shuffled, peering up at Jason from under his bangs. “I said I was just trying to cook lunch.”

“Okay Tuesday, get in here.” Jason stepped back to let Danny in. He motioned with a little wave when Danny just blinked back at him.

“Tuesday?”

“Because nothing good ever happens on a Tuesday—”

“You’ve said.”

“—and you are just bad luck.”

“I am— no, okay, that’s fair. Guess my name is Tuesday now,” Danny pondered as he followed Jason into his apartment.

Jason steered Danny over to the kitchen island, sitting him down at it while he went to grab the first aid kit that he kept above the fridge. “How’d you cut your hand?”

“Can of beans.”

“Can of beans,” Jason parroted back dryly. “How’s you cut your hand on a can of beans?”

“I opened it and was fishing out the lid, but part of the side was sharp and it cut my hand, just a little bit, but it made me jolt and then I cut myself on the lid and… yep. Here I am, sitting in your kitchen, bleeding. Which really sucks because I need to get my pants clean since they’re my only pair decent enough to wear in public.”

Jason closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You only have one pair of jeans?”

“Don’t judge me. It used to be two but there was that Ivy attack last week and it was me or my pants in the fight against the vines.”

“Tuesday…”

Danny’s brow crinkled adorably. “No, it was Wednes- oh, right, nickname. Really living up to it already, aren’t I?”

“You really are,” Jason said. His words were gruff, but he made sure to keep his touch gentle as he took Danny’s hand and started to undo the bandages. “So I’m going to clean and bandage this up properly. Then I’ll throw your cloths in the wash.”

“I was just going to wash them in the tub, I don’t have enough to waste a load on,” Danny protested.

“It’s fine,” Jason said. He wiped away the blood, getting a sense of the cuts under it. Hand wounds were tricky because they were prone to reopening, but it didn’t look too bad. “I’ve got a washer in my unit.”

“Really? I didn’t think they had the hookups.”

Jason gave a little huff of a laugh at that, which caused Danny to give a scowly little pout. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re new here or you’d know I know the owner. It comes with perks.” Jason ran a disinfectant wipe over the cut, shushing Danny soothingly as the other hissed at the burn. “So like I said, I’m going to thrown your clothes in the wash. Then I’m making breakfast—”

“It’s after eleven.”

“I just woke up, it’s breakfast,” Jason said with the firm tone of someone in the nightlife. “And then we’re going shopping because you need more than one pair of pants.”

Danny ducked his head, mumbling again.

“Speak up Tuesday. And hold your hand still,” Jason instructed as he carefully applied the liquid stitches.

“I said I don’t have the money to buy new pants, that’s why I need these clean.”

Jason tilted Danny’s hand, inspecting his work. Just to be safe he added on a few butterfly bandages. “I didn’t ask if you had the money, I told you we’re going shopping.”

“I— what?”

“I’ll buy you the pants, Tuesday.”

“What?! No! No, nope,” Danny explained waving frantically.

Jason’s hand shot out to grab Danny’s wrist before he could undo all of Jason’s hard work. Danny froze under his grip, which Jason made sure to loosen. “Stop moving until I’m done, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jason watched Danny for a moment to make sure he was actually going to listen before nodding and getting to work wrapping the hand. “I’ll buy you the pants and anything else you need. I’ve got the money for it and I’m not exactly doing anything else with it. Call it a house warming present or some shit if you need a reason to accept it.”

“You already brought me cinnamon buns last week,” Danny pointed out in a mumble.

“Naw, now I know how you eat. Those weren’t a house warming present, those were a survival package.”

“I- that’s not! Hey!” The blush Danny was now sporting made the scattering of freckles he had all the more obvious.

Jason just chuckled as he looked over the first aid one more time before releasing Danny’s hand and peeling off his gloves. “Now be a good boy and sit there while I put your stuff in the wash.”

Danny opened his mouth and snapped it closed before he just gave a meek little nod.

Leaving Danny to sit, Jason took the clothing to his washroom. He prepped the clothing, thankful as he often was for Alfred’s special blend of stain remover. He’d check before putting them in dryer, but he was confident that the blood would come out.

Danny was still perched on the barstool when Jason came back to the main room. He was leaning to the side, almost tipping the stool over in his efforts to looking around curiously, but didn’t seem to have moved from his seat. When he spotted Jason he set back up properly. The stool made thunk as it righted; Danny winced.

“Are you good with eggs and toast?” Jason asked as he rounded the island.

“No toast.” The words were surprisingly vehement— enough to make Jason turn to look at Danny in surprise. Danny rubbed at the back of his neck, ducking his head again a little. “Sorry, I just really, really don’t like toast. But eggs sound great.”

Jason hummed, opening his bread box. “Do English muffins get the same hate as toast?”

“Those are… like the Egg McMuffin things, right?”

“Tuesday, you’re killing me here,” Jason said with a sigh. “Yes, if you want a horrible example, they’re like the Egg McMuffin things.”

“They’re fine?”

“Okay.” Jason pulled them out and then moved to the fridge to grab what he would need to whip up a knock off eggs Benedict. “So, what brought you to Gotham?”

He might as well get some information while he cooked.

“What makes you think I’m not from here?”

“Trust me Tuesday, it’s very clear you’re not,” Jason said, glancing over in timeto catch Danny’s pout.

“Fine, I mean, you’re right. I’m here for college. I got a partial scholarship to Gotham U.”

“Good on you. What are you studying?” Jason asked as if he didn’t already know.

“Engineering, which I know, nerd.”

“No shame in that, the world needs nerds.” The bacon hissed as it hit the heating pan. “How are you finding Gotham?”

“Different. This is nothing like where I can from. But it’s not as bad as everyone said it was. I’ve met some really nice people, some of them even keep cooking for me.”

Jason laughed at that. “Yeah? I hear good enough food gets your a mirage proposal.”

“Sorry, that honor is so far limited to bready things. Did you make these muffin things yourself?” Danny teased.

“Not this time. Like my sorta Grandfather says, they’re a faff to make.”

“And whatever you’re doing now isn’t?” Danny said, leaning over the counter to watch as Jason separated an egg.

“This? This is just a hollandaise sauce.”

“Oh, is that all?” Danny deadpanned.

“Shut it— it’s meant to be a ‘minute sauce’,” Jason explained, tossing the shell and washing his hands. “Just an egg yolk, melted butter, lemon juice, and a good whisking.”

“Huh, never had it before,” Danny said, propping his head up on his hands. “No one cooked much at home— other than my mother’s fudge.”

“Why fudge?”

“It was good motivation for my father, basically. I think she uses it to get him to do the… house work she doesn’t want too. Not that anyone really took care of the things that really needed to be done.”

The bitter note to Danny’s voice was a little concerning.

“Well, I can teach you to cook a few basic things.”

“You don’t hav—”

“Think of it as ensuring you don’t burn down the building I live in.”

It would give him a chance to figure out the minor mystery that was Danny Nightingale, even if it was seeming more and more like a case of Tuesday luck.

Danny narrowed his eyes at Jason for a moment before his shoulders drooped. “Sure. I guess at this point it’s clear I need the help and I can’t afford keep living on take-out.”

“I promise, we won’t jump right to hollandaise,” Jason said as he started whisking vigorously. Sometimes his crime boss muscles came in handy for more than punching.

-----

AN: Danny with Hood: grins like a feral beast I'm gonna bite him. Danny with Jason: gets called a ‘good boy’ and blue screens

Jason is despairing over here. He just cannot. So much despair. At least Danny is cute. Eventually I’ll write some actual sugar daddying lol but at least Jason has offered now.

Goon squad (I tried to catch everyone- best place to be sure to be added to the list is to ask on the masterpost! Please make sure you aren’t already on the list though. I’ve also removed all name that wouldn’t link.) @addie-lover-of-stories @bathildaburp @d4ydr34min9 @sometimesthingsfallapart @vythika96 @worthlesswall @aroranorth-west @chrysanthemum9484 @ver-444 @impulsiveasshole @meira-3919 @lazy-bouqet @cryinginthevoid @thegatorsgoose @cutelittlebeanie @blankliferain @ramblingkat @screamingtofillthevoid @themirrorghost @skulld3mort-1fan @may-rbi @nixthenerd @moonlupine @olivethetreebitch @overtherose @roseinbloom02 @v-inari @nappinginhell @imchildish8775 @leftmiraclechaos @mygood-bitch99 @ailithnight @busterkeel @avelnfear @ravenshadow17 @demigraceling-blog @maskygirl55 @sroomheaddoc @undead-essence @desertbogwitch @addie-lover-of-stories @magic-pincushion @phantom-dc @gin2212 @meira-3919 @apointlessbox @hollowgast1 @cutelittlebeanie @friends-fam-fiends-hellothere @serasvictoria02 @dulceringo @mushroom-jack @icedbluesoul @coruscateselene @escelia @firegirl108 @crystalqueertea @booberrylizard @phoenixdemonqueen @shorterthanadverage @pyramaniac @seraphinedemort @fallenangle67 @chaoticchange @soren1830 @trippingovermyfeet @nutcase8691 @themirrorghost @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff @a-salty-sal @guardianrex @dsabian @8-29pm @consouling @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @smol-book-nerd @help-i-need-a-cool-username @bianca-hooks123 @girlnic @punderfulfandoms @willakk @orbr

[thir10th]

are you in?

summary: compilation of short blurbs of your's and Emily's relationship before the team knew. Some based on actual chapters. it's just basically how you managed to keep it a secret TW: I fucked up the show's timeline so try to forget all you know about it, "only one bed" but reverse (it may be shit lol), suggestive content, i think that's it A/N: Writing this one has been a pain in the ass because every time i edited it i'd loose the changes so there are parts that i don't actually like at all but here it is nonetheless. As always: English isn't my first language. Reviews are appreciated. Like and reblog <3

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ new blouse?

A near death experience really deserves some kind of celebration

and you suppose a near-job loss experience does too

a week had passed after Emily and Hotch had rejoined the team on that case on Milwaukee, and Emily's head injury was almost just another scar, so when Morgan had asked you if you wanted to go out for drinks, you had looked at your girlfriend and said:"yeah, wny not"

and there you were, sitting at a table right next to Penelope, waiting for your girlfriend to bring all your drinks, and overhearing a conversation she was having with Hayley and Hotch, who seemed very relieved to have the night for themselves. You were supposed to be a part of that conversation, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to listen.

All your focus was deposited on your girlfriend, she had her arms rested on the counter trying to get the waiter's attention, a pair of dark jeans accentuated her figure, and all you could think about was getting home and ripping that blouse off of her.

You would have to settle for just staring, for now. Emily turns around to take a look at your table and catches you starring, you blush instantly, but she just smiles and gives you a wink, which makes you smile too, and suddenly your taken out of the trance by a voice.

"y/n are you listening to me?" Penelope says trying to grab your attention

"sorry, yes, what is it?" she looks at you suspiciously, as if with just her eyes she could decipher what was going on inside your head. She can't go on because Emily comes back with all your drinks, leaving them on the table and sitting next to you , maybe just a little bit too close but you could not complain.

She simply joins the conversation like it was nothing, meanwhile you sip on your drink hopeful that the alcohol will help you take your girlfriend away from your mind. However, Emily has different plans for you, as she rests her hand on you thigh behind the table so no one can see, dangerously high, she can't be bothered at all, she just keeps talking to Hotch as if nothing was going on, but all you can think about is her.

Morgan, who had spent a good hour on the dance floor, collecting girl's phone numbers, comes around, he grabs Penelope's hand to take her to the dance floor with him.

She shoots from her sit, swinging her hips to the rhythm of the music, Morgan guides her, a huge smile on his face as he pulls her to dance with him.

To everyone’s surprise Hotch pulls Hayley to dance with him as well, and just like that, in a matter of seconds, Emily and you are left alone.

When you turn your head to look at her, she places her face closer to yours, dangerously close, you’d say, but you can’t bring yourself to separate.

“Are you having fun baby?” She asks, a soft smile on her lips “yes, but it’s getting hard not to touch you” she smiles, her face closer now you can almost feel her lips brushing against yours. Her hand, which was still on your leg, starts caressing your thigh, setting progressively higher. You’re starting to lean into the contact when you suddenly remember where you are. Anyone who looked at you right now could see the whole scene.

“Em, stop” you say, drawing her hand away from your leg and separating your face form hers “they’re gonna see”

“Ok, yeah, sorry” she says, fake regret on her face as she takes another sip of her drink

“So, I caught you staring at me before, what was it that was so interesting?” She says like it’s the most innocent question ever, but you just know she wants to bother you a bit more. You would never admit how much you love it.

You check no one is looking at you. Both Hayley and Hotch are in their own little world, and Morgan and Penelope are too focused on each other to care. So you lean into her to whisper in her ear

“I was thinking how hot my girlfriend looks and how much I want to rip that blouse off of her” she chuckles and you go for another sip

“Thank you, it’s new” she says louder, like you just asked her the most simple question about her clothes

She leans into your ear this time, with the softest, sexiest voice she just whispers, the feeling of her breath on your ear is suffocating now

“I would love to let you take it off however you want. Do you want to go?” She asks, you eagerly nod your head, begging her with your eyes to take you home right now.

“C’mon, I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well and I’m driving you home” she smiles at you and winks, you follow her to the back of the bar where JJ and Spence are, to let them know you’re leaving.

For your surprise, JJ walks up to you too.

“We have a case” she just says, and you look at each other with disappointment.

Looks like Emily’s blouse was staying on for now.

𖨆♡𖨆 3x03 scared to death

It had been a weird morning.

You woke up with a headache. After your last case you had arrived at Emily’s apartment, and parked your car outside so you could get to work on different cars the next day.

You were thinking about having a calm night. A bottle of wine, a movie, Chinese takeout, falling asleep early enough so you wouldn’t be so tired the next day, all that.

Little did you know Emily had some things in mind for you.

The first glass of wine was alright, you were barely feeling it, but after that one another 3 followed, you came up with this stupid game of drinking every time the movie had a cringe scene, and lucky for you the movie was really bad. You would sometimes forget that particular wine affected your girlfriend to a certain level, so one thing leading to another you had fallen asleep at more or less 4am.

Next day you wake up to a very loud phone call. You turn around confused by the phone ringing, but you’re not sure where exactly it’s coming from. It had flown away yesterday night along with your clothes and had landed on the bedroom floor.

Emily's arm was wrapped around your waist, your leg on top of hers, you were both just a mess of sheets and naked bodies. You get out of bed, waking your girlfriend up, who lets out an angry groan.

You finally find the phone behind Emily's pants, JJ's name appearing on the screen. "Hello?" you answer "Hey, we have a case, I can't reach Emily, and you're both late, do you know where she could be?" she asks. You check the time

8:15am

Shit

shitshitshitshitfuckfuckfuck

"yeah, I'm sorry, ugh... i don't know where Emily is, i had a problem with my....kitchen sink...but i'll be there as son as i can ok? bye JJ" you don't even wait for her to answer, you just hang up the phone and run to wake Emily up.

"Em! Baby wake up its 8am we're late!" she finally opens her eyes, her somnolent face tries to decipher what you just said. Her body starts moving first, siting upright.

"JJ just called, we have a case, you have to call her back, tell her there's traffic or something, I'll leave first ok?" you run around, trying to find something wearable. You already had your own drawer at her place for times like this.

You fly around the apartment checking you have everything with you, car keys, purse, phone... You walk up to Emily, still getting dressed, only a pair of pants on and her bra, she’s looking around for something to wear with the pants.

You grab her waist, pulling her in for a kiss “I’ll see you there ok?” You tell her. She smiles at you, then grins, still half a sleep, and you leave.

You weren’t exactly sure if it had been the wine, or the 4 hours of sleep, but you were hoping the meds you had taken with your breakfast (a coffee) would start acting quickly, because your headache was starting to get unbearable.

Sitting on the round table, you revise the file with the case, when Emily arrives, excusing for being late, but Hotch hasn’t even arrived yet and we hadn’t started, so she’s technically still on time.

As soon as you look up to catch a glimpse of her, your headache magically disappears. You regret it immediately because now she’s all you can think about.

It’s ridiculous, you spent hours last night with each other, hell, you spent all day with her! You should’ve had enough of her by now! But how could you when she was wearing that red tank top?

You stare at every movement she makes, taking her jacket off, uncovering her slightly muscular arms, you cannot physically take your eyes off of her, following her every move. Red was definitely her color, there was no argument about that. You could not focus on the case anymore.

After the usual “wheels up in 30” they all leave the room, but you grab your girlfriends arm last second, trying to keep her from leaving. “Em wait a second” You’re both left alone, looking to see if there’s anyone left in the room, everyone has left and far from you two.

"What is it?" she asks

You feel the need to whisper although there's no one in the room anymore "You look so good in this I'm genuinely considering going down on you now" you say tugging the red fabric between your fingers. She smiles widely, getting closer to your face.

You aren't sure where this renewed confidence is coming from, it's just that Emily made you feel like that sometimes.

"was yesterday not enough?" she says in a teasing voice, but you can tell she's feeling just like you. Her face mere inches from yours, you are almost begging her for some action.

"we still have 30 minutes" she twirls her head as if asking you, and you nod, unable to form any words

"ok you go first, I'll meet you down" you're already crossing the door when you turn around, check for anyone who could see you, but there's no one even close to your vicinity.

You rush back, giving Emily a peck on her lips, and separating to go run downstairs.

˚☽˚｡⋆ Can I join?

It's almost time. You can even taste it.

A free night. It's been some time since you got one of those.

You could even see it. A wine glass, your big ass bathtub, a dozen candles, some exotic scented bath products and your wonderful girlfriend.

You look across the room for her, she's working on some files still. You could say she literally feels your eyes on her, because she turns around and catches you staring at her, smiling warmly at you and winking, which makes you instantly blush.

"Any plans for the night, Prentiss?" Morgan asks her coming by her desk, you're already walking up to them so you don't miss a thing from their conversation.

"yes. I got a date" she just says like it was nothing.

A weird sensation runs through your body, a mix between jealousy and excitement. You obviously knew you were the date, but the jealousy came mostly from the fact that she could not mention it was in fact you.

"really? who's the lucky one?" Morgan asks rising his eyebrows

"hot tub" she answers like nothing, just playing it cool, but the grin on her face suggests she has been picturing your night just like you had.

"oh, that sounds like a party" he teases, but she doesn't lose a single second on it "you're so not invited"

"am i?" you come from nowhere, you are right behind Emily, who turns around, holding back a smile, she gives in the game, after all, this is the perfect way to make them not suspect a thing.

"now you, i could consider it" she answers, and you lower your head, smiling to the floor so no one sees it.

"Now that sounds like a better party" he mutters.

.•°•.•. .•.•°•.

The soft bathrobe hugs your body keeping it warm, a wine glass in your hand, resting your back against the sink, you wait as your girlfriend finishes the bath.

The whole scene is idyllic, candles lit all around, low warm light illuminating the stance, Emily's black hair falling on her shoulders, her robe barely closed, she lights the last two candles, and checks the water temperature before walking up to you

"ready?" she asks sweetly, untying the knot in your robe, she takes off hers and gets in first, giving you a hand to help you get in, yourself.

You lay back, resting your back against her, relaxing immediately into her touch. White bubbles around both your bodies. She kisses your neck from the back. Breathing out, you groan at the feeling, she caresses the skin of your ams with her fingertips, gently.

"do you think Morgan can even begin to imagine this?" you ask her, she stops her ministrations to answer you

"i really hope he doesn't, but teasing him is fun" you chuckle

"well, imagine how we'll blow out his mind when we tell him" you begin wondering. She kisses the sensitive skin on the curve of your neck, nipping at the skin, you close you eyes leaning on the contact.

"are you thinking about it?" she stops to ask

"Morgan? hell no" she chuckles

"i mean about telling Morgan" you turn around to look at her, making a bit of water overflowing the tub

"well, yeah, I mean, I think about telling all of them" she twists her head trying to understand

"not now though! Not yet... at all" you can see her relaxing instantly, a smile begining to form on her lips

"Em, this past months have been...amazing, and i want to keep that for ourselves just a little bit more... also the sneaking around is very fun" you both laugh in agreement "but?" she asks waiting for you to add something more

"but, that doesn't mean I'm not excited for our friends to know, you know? I mean, going out together and actually kissing, dancing together, to be able to say we are, well, together tonight... basically just doing it all together" her big brown eyes linger on to you, she's full smiling now, you know she feels the same, but she just wouldn't be the one to tell you.

"i love you" she mutters, you smile, holding to her shoulders for support, warm drops of water running down your arms, you kiss her gently in approval.

"well, i say let's enjoy the meantime then" her hands fly to your waist to hold you, and you kiss her deeply again.

𓇢𓆸 Care to share?

Hotch had decided to call it a day, it was too late, and you all knew how difficult it could be to function when you don't get enough sleep.

You had't had time to check in earlier at the hotel, so when you got there and saw it, you knew that wood creaked like shit.

You had expected nothing less, being in a cold state, the hotel reception had a big fireplace which kept the ambience cozy and warm, the wooden planks creaked behind your feet even behind the thick carpet.

Hotch turns to us, with the room keys in his hands "I'm sorry but this is a small village, this was the only place that still had spare rooms, and they're all packed up this week so some of us will have to share" he says.

"how many?" Morgan asks concerned "two double, three single rooms" Hotch says

"well I'm not sharing with pretty boy here" he complains

"Dave and i can share one" he says "Well, y/n and I also don't mind sharing" Emily rushes to say. You walk up to her "right?" she asks as if she needed to make sure "yeah of course, no problem" you say, smiling at her. Her quick willfulness to share with you and you eager reaction winning you a suspicious look from JJ, but you couldn't bring yourself to care, because tonight none of you would have to sneak out, waiting till it's late enough for the rest to have fallen asleep, you wouldn't have to wake up early to get back to your room, you had your place tonight.

"alright, thank you" you think it's funny, you should be the one thanking Hotch, not the other way around. You grab your key and Emily follows you upstaris.

.•°•.•. .•.•°•.

You can tell the place is old just by the keys, it's an inn more than a hotel. You turn the key in the lock, opening the door partially, when you feel Emily's hands on your waist, grabbing it, you close your eyes as soon as you feel her lips on yours, and she kisses you deeply, possessively.

You surround her body with your arms for support, leaning into the kiss, closing the door behind you with your foot. Tugging your hands on her hair, you surrender to the connection and just give in, not caring who could've caught you mere seconds ago on the hallway.

She pushes you agains the door, her hands finding the way behind your shirt, touching you everywhere, she moves to kiss the corner of your lips, your cheek, the skin behind your ear, leaving a trail of wet warm kisses, finding your pulse point you let out a needy whimper in approval.

"you think JJ knows?" you ask breathlessly "she suspects something, but she can't technically prove it" her lips brushing your neck with every word, her soft breath warm on your skin.

"Well, she should start paying more attenti-" your mouth falls open. It was the first time you had tken a good look at the room since you entered "Em, look" you say trying to stop her ministrations much to your distaste to make her look around.

Emily turns around and takes a look at the room. You should've guessed this would've happened. Hotch would never slept in the same bed as Rossi, and you shouldn't have to do that ether, right?

"Two beds?" she says, in awe. "what do you suggest?" she asks

"should we join them?" you try "we'll end up falling through the middle" she says "ok, then. You chose"

Next day you wake up completely wrapped around Emily, your nose buried in her neck, inhaling her scent, you were almost thankful for the small size of that bed.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

A/N: this one took me a long ass time to finish so i hope its not shit. Like & reblog, any feedback is greatly appreciated. Also I'm open to requests because I'm almost out of ideas

[onyourhyuck]

Animal Instinct. | NCT SERIES

Title: PROLOGUE ‘Sour Grapes.’

— Prologue: “They don’t speak to people unless they want one thing from them. And they pick their prey very carefully. They don’t go for everyone.”

— Summary: You are a marine biologist. You should be able to understand animals and their way of living. When you encounter a new society in a bar under the name ‘Sour Grapes’ you find yourself in a troubling situation with seven different men. Seven different animals.

— Genre: Smut with plot. Minors dni. Fantasy with modern timeline. Female!reader. Secondary genders (but with animals) dreamies are complete red flags. Dub-con. Everything is very dark romance related. Nothing here is for the weak. Everything is just pure filth. It gets progressively worse and worse. Multiple orgasms. Overstimulation. Pet names such as ‘my pretty who’re’ or ‘princess’ — minor hair pulling, blowjob male receiving. Fingering (female receiving) and sex tape mentioned. Breeding kink is a common theme here. Possessiveness.

— Notes:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

There was a new bar that took everyone’s attention and money away. Your friends have been nonstop talking about this new secret bar that is hidden away from everyone by a password. You wonder what the big deal was about it. It just sounded like a stupid bar to you. Apparently only ‘special’ guests could enter this bar. Your friend, Ningning has claimed that she knows what the password to the bar is, and that she will need to take a friend with her.

Which explains why you’re in Ningning’s car with the most absolute deadpanned expression when you see this empty isolating road ahead and the parking lot you’re now at.

You let out a sigh. “Ningning no offence but bars are meant to be welcoming. This looks like a horror movie in front of me.” The building that stood out to the both of you was looking bleak and dark from the darkness sorrowing it. You have a bad stomachache from all of this.

Your friend turns to you with a begging expression to make you come with her, because let’s be honest, Ningning wouldn’t want to go alone to this bar that no one has heard about. “Y/n please just trust me. The guy I was supposed to meet up with told me the password to this bar. I cant go along without you.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” You remark back furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance. You eventually gave in after five seconds of whining from Ningning because you can’t stand this at all.

Scowling out of the car with your friend you follow her inside with the least enthusiasm for partying tonight as well. Unlike Ningning you actually don’t have this much free time.

“If I see something weird I’m getting out of here and calling the police, Ning.” You tell her, your voice coming out more sternly.

But she was your friend and you love her. You can’t just leave her to go to this weird scam-looking bar alone. Good knows what could’ve happened to her if you didn’t come with her.

Ningning gave you a small smile. “Yeah! Deal.”

The building looked like it was probably abandoned for many years. The entrance itself gave you spooky vibes and you hated it. The girl in front of you was the first one to approach the singular bookshelf on the wall guided against the wall. Your eyes stare blankly at the set up.

You saw your friend touching every book on the shelf and you let out a sigh and a laugh at the same time. This was ridiculous.

“Don’t tell me you’re looking for a secret book-lever?” You mumble behind Ningning who gave a very optimistic smile. “Yeah. The guy said the passcode will work if we find the book that is the right one.”

You sigh. “This is a lot of effort to go through just to drink and find yourself a fling isn’t it?” You had a point. There was definitely something going around here that you’re missing. Maybe some information that your friend wasn’t telling you?

Few seconds later Ningning found the reddish book on the bookshelf stand that had peeked out and she pulled it out, only to find it reattach and the whole bookshelf moving to the left. Revealing a secret door. Your eyes widen at Ningning; because for a moment or two you’ve been doubting this whole bookshelf thing. Ningning gave you a proud-eating smirk which made you automatically scowl and roll your eyes. You walk ahead and Ningning followed behind you. The dark corridor welcomed both of you and the sound of bar music came in louder and louder. The more you both walked you’d see two patrolling bar security guards at the door.

Your feet tried to past them but they shoulders block. One gruff man gave you an intimidating look. “Password.” He said to you.

Ningning pulls you back a little. She knows you’d probably start an argument with someone tonight, you’re kind of like a magnet for starting fights.

“Green tea.” She said to the guards. You stare in disbelief when the two guards let Ningning and you pass through once the secret password was said.

You see, you don’t understand humans. But you understand animals on many levels. Humans are just something too complex for you to figure out. Ningning here was very confusing. She wasn’t telling you anything about this place.

But you had to admit. The bar looks expensive. Luxurious even. There was something so lush about this bar you couldn’t put your tongue on it. Everyone seems like they are a movie star. Or perhaps singers even.

Pushing through the crowd. Ningning instantly ordered a drink at the bar. The handsome man with a pale thinly skin and alerting brown alluring eyes pulled you closer. The bar owner tending to the drinks had really beautiful thick hair. There was a mixture of proud and sweetness about this guy. He looks like he has this whole place together.

“Two martini’s please.” Ningning told. Jaehyun gave her a glance and a single nod with a charming smirk. He turned around making the two drinks for you and Ningning.

You whisper to your friend. “This whole place is weird vibes Ning. What’s so special about this place?” You don’t understand why she was so eager to come here.

Your friend gave you a sympathetic response but she didn’t seem to find this all so suspicious like you. Sometimes you analyse things too much for her own liking. “I just heard it amongst people at my workplace. So I wanted to try it out.” Ningning said with a shrug.

The two glasses were plopped down and your head turns to the martini then to the guy with a small glance you take the martini to sip.

Your friend’s answer was so vague to be honest. So much effort just to find out about this bar?

Reaching for your phone you wanted to check if anyone has been texting you. To your answer you find out the signal here was completely nonexistent and crap. You grumble and Ningning saw you struggling. She furrows her eyebrows when you curse.

“Does this bar have no wifi signal or what?” You said with your tone of voice becoming frustrated. You put your phone down when Jaehyun reached over. “Actually phones aren’t allowed in this bar, miss.” He explained, even though his handsome face was definitely a distraction from how annoying this rule was.

“What? No phone. Isn’t that a bit weird and suspicious.” You grumble not understanding what kind of a rule was this?

Ningning switched glances between Jaehyun and you. You were watching him with a double sided glare like you were a mirror reflecting how much you hated this rule so much.

Jaehyun smirks and pulls back. “At Sour Grape’s whatever happens stays here. Therefore no phones. Just enjoy your night.” He reassures.

It sounds like everyone had something to hide what was was it?

Deciding to let your eyes wonder around the whole bar to check out what could take your interest; you found your eyes gravitating to a specific table of seven guys seated like they own the whole place. Crouching between girls. You find yourself wondering what the whole deal was with them.

You turn to the bar owner, Jaehyun was cleaning a few glasses with a cloth. He wore this white top with a black vest over and a tie neatly over it. The hair was slick back too.

“What are those guys all doing? They look like they own the whole damn place.”

Jaehyun laughs at your words. “Because they do. They are my main clients who make this whole bar popular.”

You furrow your eyebrows turning back to watching the group of men seating down. They all had a specialised accessory with an animal of their choice. You don’t understand why. But all you could see was that it somehow matches their appearance.

He leans close now, he decided to give you a little introduction to who runs this whole place like it is their kingdom.

“Let me explain to you who they are.” He softly said and you nodded watching the group.

“That man is Mark Lee.” Jaehyun said it with some pride when the name comes out of his mouth. As if he was some sort of king. “He is what you call a womaniser I believe. No intentions of settling down. However he is loaded with money.”

A blonde guy sitting in the middle with his legs spread while a woman was on his lap in the middle, his hand sneaking around the waist to pull the beautiful woman closer. His eyes felt deadly and sharp. You feel like nearly as a prey would when watching this encounter. On his right hand was a shiny silver ring on his middle finger — with a tiger face shaped on it. Engraved.

Your eyes move to the right. Jaehyun saw you checking out the guy next to Mark now.

Next to the man was a sickly pale man. He looks as cold as ice to you; it shouldn’t be possible to look this pale without looking like the clouds in the sky itself. However his facial expressions were the least exciting. He looks like he did not have intentions of getting woman. A necklace was hanging around his neck in shape of a wolf.

“That is Lee Jeno.” He said to you with a smirk. “This guy is probably the least you likely will ever meet. Jeno is a tough one to grasp. He’s very loyal to Mark and his friends. He doesn’t even show slightest interest in women.”

You roll your eyes. “Why is that? Is he scared of women?”

Jaehyun grinned shrugging. “Pack law maybe?”

Furrowing your eyebrows at the comment you tried to not think much of this. Perhaps it was a metaphor but you can’t really put your finger on why he said something like that.

Your attitude towards the group was getting more and more conflicting. You wanted to know more about the rest of them.

“Who is the guy standing up over there?” You try to point your eyes at the man standing up next to the couch that all the other men were sitting together. Jaehyun looks over there.

“Zhong Chenle, he is a reliable guy with source of information from everywhere.” Jaehyun smirks at you and you raise your eyebrows scoffing.

“Why?” You question. Jaehyun responded with an obvious tone. “Because he’s rich. They all are.”

Chenle wore the most expensive clothing you’d have to be honest. He wore and extended his beauty with all his money he could afford it with. But what caught your eye at the end was this hanging shark tooth down his ears.

Sudden arm around Chenle was wrapped by a much larger and bigger man in height with pale skin and black hair. Darkly covered clothes and makeup on his face. A choker was around the guy’s neck with a spider in the middle showing off.

“And that guy with Chenle?” You grumble staring the taller boy down.

Jaehyun puts the drinking glass down, lifting up his head over the bar. “Park Jisung. Chenle’s best friend; he’s also deadly. I don’t think you should go near him unless you want him to completely destroy you.”

“You make it sound like he’s a killer.” You roll your eyes not taking whatever he said about Jisung or the others too seriously.

Jaehyun scoffs. “You never know.” He points out and then leans over pointing over to three other guys that were speaking together as they sat down at the table table with the others.

“Those three are always together.” He explained to you and your head turns to analyse the other three people.

Sun kissed man with brunette hair and beautiful brown eyes with black moles; wearing a bear shaped pendant down his neck while discussing something with his two friends. Lee Haechan.

In the middle a smaller frame but a sheepish man with beautiful hair and fox-like eyes made you look twice. He looks unreal if anything. With a lip piercing on the bottom lip, you swore you saw a fox tail on the lip piercing detail. Huang Renjun.

And then a man with a bracelet on his wrist, he looked to be the most troublesome and quiet person in the group. The snake bracelet on his arm intrigued you nonetheless. Na Jaemin.

They all wore animal charms which looked silly but at the same time you wonder if it meant something more?

“Why do they all wear those jewellery? I don’t understand why they have all those animals on them.”

Jaehyun wasn’t aware if you knew why this bar was such a high secrecy but he leans down and now got a real serious one on one with you. “Can you keep a secret?” He asked as his face told you that he was being serious.

The information he’s about to tell you will change your entire life forever.

“Yeah.” You slant back watching Jaehyun sit up with a grin at your response.

“Everyone in this bar knows this but you.” Jaehyun smartly points out. “What do they know?” You became wary of what this was all about. Suddenly your stomachache was back again as if it was a warning from whatever you were about to find out.

Jaehyun trails with a devilish look. “The reason Sour Grape’s is such a secret place to enter is because everyone in this place has evolved from different species of animals.”

“For example, most people like you who evolve from monkeys exist in this world. But there are people who evolved from others.”

He whispers back pulling away to show you his arm bracelet with horses on it. You raise your eyes from Jaehyun’s wrist and back to his face in disbelief. This wasn’t making enough sense to you.

“So you’re telling me you and the other guys came from animals that weren’t monkeys? What kind of logic is that.” You grumble feeling that maybe you’re drunk and he was fooling around with you.

Jaehyun gave you a light shrug with his shoulders. “You said you can keep a secret. You can’t tell this to anyone.”

“Hyung pass me a bottle. You know what I want the usual.” A dark deep and striking tone alerts me from behind as if I’ve never heard any footsteps coming from behind me. The tall domineering man next to my shoulder peeking down at the bar. He saw my intense gaze fixated on him. Mark turns around watching my look with a bit of haste. “And you are miss? Do I have something on my face?”

You could practically pass out from the way he is watching you like you are just some thing, a bug that could be squished by the size of his palm. “No…I…”

The bottle being placed down made you flinched. Somehow all the things Jaehyun said to you now makes sense. Mark had a look of a tiger behind his eyes. He wasn’t no cub. He was a fully grown animal in a human body. It made you scared to even look the other way.

Watching him leave with the bottle in hand. Jaehyun knew by your expression that you finally found some truth to his story.

You look down at your hands. “How do i get to speak to him?”

You hate to admit it but you want to meet them all. You want to analyse them; to get to know them. Somehow deep inside you’re willing to even try and befriend them.

Jaehyun gave you a laugh. “They don’t speak to people unless they want one thing from them. And they pick their prey very carefully. They don’t go for everyone.” You grumble at the bar owner. “Okay what’s that?”

An obvious tone was spoken again. “To sleep with you, nothing else.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you. Reblog this fic and follow me for more it helps a girl out!

[mannaima]

My Best Friend Joel (part three)

Sorry for making you all wait so long! I decided this is the second to last installment in the best friend series, the last one being much longer as it’s gonna cover a longer timeline. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy it!!!!

(part 1) (part 2)

Summary: Joel decides to hide the fact you’re pregnant, until he can’t anymore.

Word count: 2.5K (yes short i know)

Warnings: NSFW (p in v), dub-con turned consensual, breeding, joel being a scumbag, pregnancy, babytrapping(????)(small) mentions of vomit, manipulation, happy endings tho.

Joel didn’t get much sleep that night. Not like he did anyways, but his thoughts tonight were clouded with ideas of what to do about this predicament. But one thought made him shiver with guilt.

He wanted to leave.

Joel felt immense guilt with the thought, sure, he knew he was far from a good man, but even that was a low for him. But his stomach swelled in pain at the thought of another child, he couldn’t even think of children ever since Sarah. But the act was already done, there was no denying that you would be pregnant, although there's a chance you might, he had to think of the worst here. He tossed and turned, trying not to wake you, but he clenched his eyes at every possible way of this working out. You were none the wiser, sleeping so soundly, as if your body wasn’t currently in the stage of making the new child you two shared. Joel sighed, and as the morning sun crept through the windows, he had only one thought on his mind.

He just wasn’t gonna tell you.

----------

You woke up, eyes adjusting to the room filled with light, and your best friend held you in his large arms. You noticed he was already awake, eyes half shut in tiredness, and he had bags under his eyes. You tilted your head.

“Good morning Joel!” You were excited, he only glanced at you, not even a usual smirk. “Are you okay? Did you get any sleep?” You were much quieter, fearing he wasn’t in a good mood.

“Morning, sugar, I slept fine.” Lie. “Just a little tired.” Lie. Lie. Lie.

“Oh, okay.” You snuggled closer to him, head resting against his warm body, he seemed to tense around you a little. Internally, you felt the awkwardness. You were hurt, but you kept quiet.

“Do you want me to make you breakfast?” You gave him a small smile, and he glanced at you before staring at the wall once more.

“That’d be nice.” Blunt answer, but a much better answer than ‘no’. You giggled and pushed the blankets back, sitting up and climbing over Joel, making sure not to accidentally crush his arms with your knees. You stood up, and immediately felt a feeling of something droop out of your pussy. Confused, you stood still, but then the memories of last night flooded back, which made you grin a little. You walked to the kitchen, unaware of how Joel stared at you, your pretty ass out on display, only a cute pair of panties covering your lower half. Aided with morning wood, Joel’s cock became incredibly hard, despite his brain shunning him for still feeling horny knowing he knocked you up.

“Do ya want french toast?” He looked at your face now, eyes moving up from your ass. You looked so pretty in nothing but a shirt. Joel nodded. You turned back around to fix the breakfast. 

Joel felt so conflicted, on one hand, it was bound to happen eventually, he was going to meet another woman, the right one this time. Though it was a new kid, it would never replace Sarah, and the child wasn’t meant to. On the other hand, he felt immense fear that something would happen to the child. This world was no place for youth, the child would never be normal growing up in a world like this, but what choice did he have? The baby was gonna come regardless, would he rather the child to a loving mother and father, or to a single mother out on the streets.

He had to deal with it.

He stood up, wearing nothing but boxers, making him shiver at the cold air. He walked over to you, and wrapped his hands around your body, his back hunched over so he could rest his head on your shoulder. His cock was pressed up against your back, but he didn’t care, he just wanted to feel your warm body.

“Oh Joel…” There was a hint of sadness in your voice, but he had no clue why. Despite his brain begging him to ask you what’s wrong, he just buried his face in your neck, giving you small kisses.

You felt his cock, it made your lower regions warm up, fluttering almost. You continued to make the batter and heat up the stove, Joel clinging to you tightly. His hardness not going down, you felt distracted, accidentally spilling a small amount of batter. You kept apologizing but Joel just rubbed your hips with his rough hands, you jumped at his cold hands against your cold skin as he reached under your shirt.

“You cold baby?” His hands rubbed around your stomach before slowly leading up to your breasts, where he squeezed them tightly. You whimpered and stuttered before nodding your head, to which he began pinching your nipples.

“I think I’m hungry for something else right now, sweetie.” Joel began to kiss your neck, his tongue licking up it slowly, you let out a soft moan, making him smirk upon your skin. 

“D-Do you wanna have… S-Sex?”

“I think I made it pretty clear I do.”

“R-Right. Sorry.” You felt stupid for asking, wondering if it made you look stupid to him. He either didn’t care or was too horny to care, because he kept rubbing his cock against your back while kissing your neck, the breakfast long forgotten at this point. You arched your back at his touch, feeling so sensitive from the night before, your pussy fluttering at his hands. He finally removed his hands from your chest and brought them down to your lower half, his fingers poking under the fabric in order to pull them down, and he slowly brought them down. You felt the cold air, but he didn’t wait much longer before wrapping an arm around your body while also pushing your front half against the counter, making you bend over for him. You gasped at the sudden movement, but it was short-lived as his cock was now rubbing against your entrance.

“W-wait Joel-” A loud moan escaped your lips as his cock was now pushing through, your only source of lube was his cum from the night before and the small amount of wetness you had. You weren’t at all prepared for him, but he didn’t care and kept pushing.

“J-Joel. Hurts-” He kept pushing, making you groan out in pain, his hand coming up to your lips.

“Shhhh.” No words of reassurance, just shushing you to make you stop whimpering in pain. You couldn’t help it though, your walls were being stretched to their limit by his fat cock, and he wasn’t even inside you all the way yet. You kept trying to squirm out of his hold, but his grip on you was too strong, and he finally pushed you against his body, his entire cock inside you now. You groaned out, loudly, making him pull his cock back, and slam into you once more. The kindness he showed you last night was no more, as he continued to mercilessly ram inside you. You felt your face heat up as your lower half experienced immense pain, you didn’t know what to do. He just felt so much bigger than before, maybe you were doing something wrong? It hurt the first time too, but he stopped a while for you to get used to it, but he just kept abusing your hole.

“Joel please.” You pleaded for him to slow down, and he did, for a second. He slipped his cock out of you and turned you around, now facing him. Your back was pushed against the counter as he lifted you there, bottom half hanging off. You got a few seconds of relief before his cock was pushed back into you, head leaning back as you whimpered. His hands held on to your hips as he fucked you again and again. Joel forced your legs to wrap around his waist, effectively allowing him to thrust into you better. You felt the pain slowly go away, but far too slow for your liking. Joel’s groans mixed with your moans of pain and slight pleasure, his hands rubbing against your warm skin, eyes fixated on your body.

You got a good look at him in the sunlight peeking through the curtains, now able to see his body. Peppered hair covered his chest, not too much hair though. His body was definitely toned, especially for his age, and his chest glistened with small amounts of sweat. His face stared down at you with an incredible amount of enamoration, eyes boring into yours, his mouth parted slightly to let out breaths. You looked down his body to see the way his cock disappeared into your cunt, it was arousing to say the least. The mess of hair that covered right above his cock and the way his happy trail led down from his belly button. You couldn’t get enough of his body, and it seems he felt the same about you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, angel.” He said, deep voiced slightly strained as he continued to fuck you.

“You too J-” You were cut off by the movement of his hands around your ankles. He lifted your legs up and positioned them on his shoulders, allowing him much deeper access in your pussy. Your breathy moans pushed him over the edge, he couldn’t get enough of the way your bare breasts bounced around, or the look you gave with your eyebrows arched in pleasure, lips wet with saliva as you gave into the pleasure. He couldn’t handle it anymore, his head reeling back as he gave a few more sloppy thrusts and groaned, cumming inside of you. You felt the warm cum seep inside you, Joel letting out small ‘fuck’s and ‘goddamn’s. After about twenty seconds of pure bliss on Joel’s end, he finally pulled out of you, cock soft now, and a large clump of his cum dripping out of you. Joel quickly plunged his middle and ring finger inside you, pushing the cum back inside you. He fingered you, his hand pushing the hair away from your forehead and kissing it, making you smile through the pleasure of his fingers. He smiled back.

----------

You had stayed with Joel, your relationship was never really defined, but it was safe to say you two were a couple. Joel would obviously leave to go to work, which is something you were accustomed to. But Joel left you the privilege of leaving the apartment whenever you wanted, but you preferred when Joel was by your side. You spent the days watching the people, reading books, and even drawing pictures while Joel was away.

When Joel came back, you both liked to do “adult stuff.”

He fucked you every day after work or before you both slept. He couldn’t get enough of you, every time he saw you, he had this uncontrollable urge to just fuck the shit out of you.

And every single time, he came inside you.

He felt guilty, of course, but not guilty enough to tell you what happens when a man cums inside a woman. No, he figured he could delay it until there were physical changes, he liked you this way. It was sick of him, he knew he was a bastard for what he was doing, but he liked seeing your fucked out face while cum drooled out of your pussy. He liked you not knowing that you were going to be carrying his babies, of course he’d tell you when you’d eventually noticed the weight gain, lack of period, and giant stomach. But Joel wanted to see how long you could stay oblivious.

----------

“Joel, do I look… Fatter to you?” There you stood, in front of the mirror, wearing nothing but a pair of panties. You had turned to the side and were staring at your stomach.

“What do ya’ mean?” Joel knew exactly what you meant.

“I just look… More round. Just my stomach though.” You felt around your stomach, squeezing it a little.

“But it’s not soft like fat. It’s kind of hard?” You knocked on it jokingly, giggling slightly.

“I don’t see a difference, baby.” It was easy for him to lie, he avoided your eye contact though. 

“Oh well, I’m probably just seeing things.” You went on your tippy toes and puckered out your lips, signaling him to kiss you, which he did.

He watched you walk into the kitchen, still topless, and pull out some rations. He couldn’t help but notice how big your breasts have gotten, wondering how you didn’t notice. He wanted to suck on them, hoping milk would come out already. Fantasizing about your body, you quickly snapped him out of his little world as he noticed you running to the sink.

“Oh fuck-” You had little time before you started vomiting in the sink, coughing in between gags. Fuck. Joel’s mind raced, this was getting too far, he had to tell you. You let out the contents in your stomach while Joel just watched, but his dumb brain finally realized he should be helping you. Scrambling to run to you, he held your hair back as you continued. He reassured you that you were fine, that it was just some morning sickness. As you finally felt better and washed your mouth and the sink, Joel felt a small amount of guilt now that he saw your sick face. Fuck. He had to tell you now.

“Darling there's something we need to talk about. Come with me.” He led you to the bedroom and sat you next to him, hand gripping yours tightly.

“What is it Joel?” He sighed, and rubbed your hand with his fingers.

“Well. The reason your stomach is a bit bigger, and why you have some sickness is because. You’re pregnant. You’re gonna be a momma.” You stared at him, confusion plastered on your face, head slightly tilted.

“How?” Joel sighed again, now realizing you were gonna be upset with him.

“When we have sex. When a man cums inside a woman, the white stuff that comes out of me, it makes a baby when it mixes with your parts.” Your eyes widened a bit. You touched your stomach.

“So… You were making babies with me?” Joel nodded, half expecting you to hit or scream at him. But you just kept touching your small baby bump.

“So you mean. I’m gonna be a mommy? And, are you the daddy?” There was a small glimmer in your eyes as you started to grow a smile.

“Yes baby.” Joel gave you a small smile before being pushed down by you, face smushed up against his own. You kept giving him sloppy kisses, laughing in between smooches. Joel didn’t know you’d be this happy, he thought you’d be upset with unknowingly getting pregnant, but he let that thought linger as he kept his hands on your hips, kissing you back with a breathy laugh.

You two were going to be parents. 

taglist:  @avengersfan25  @sloanexx​  @flowercrowns-goodvibes​  @aerangi​  @st4rb0y27 !! inbox me to join/remove from the taglist!!!

[zuyoo]

linger, one-shot. ﹙ nagi & gn!reader ﹚ 비애

CONTENT WARNING — clueless nagi, (open-ended) angst, misleading actions, images used are not face claims but rather used as a reference to visualize a scenario. enjoy reading !!!! :D

SYNOPSIS — you’re in love with your best friend, nagi seishiro, who is oblivious of your feelings but treats you well more than just a friend

ZUYOO’S NOTES — noOOoO 10 images limit on tumblr mobile app ( ꒦ິ ཀ ꒦ິ ) word count is probably a little over 1000 if not more than that.. ok ily enjoy reading MWAAA

p.s. i love u, everyone who leaves feedback and/or reactions with all my life :DD it just makes me feel so motivated in writing, thank you all sm!!

it started with one message, which lead to another… then another… then more. you two instantly clicked right after being attending the same club in your university. you’ve seen him before, and thought that he looked hard to approach—since he’s always on his phone, barely talks, and is always either practicing, in class, or out of reach (in his dorm)

you two grew close after talking about similar interests, and it didn’t take too long for you to develop feelings for him. i mean… how could you not when he has treated you way better than any other man who’s walked out of you life?

he messages you on a daily basis, doesn’t hesitate to come over and take care of you when you tell him that you aren’t feeling well, treats you to meals, drives you home, tries new hobbies because you told him you like those.

nagi has the looks, the talent, the brain, the skill, the body that a girl could ask for. you’re simply lucky enough to be near his presence—and oh boy how all the girls that see you two together makes you feel it.

their glares and side glances sharp as a knife, it gave you goosebumps all over. but you eventually paid no mind to their stares, the only thing that mattered at the moment is how you’d spend your day with nagi!

it’s been three years since your first interaction with him, and you two haven’t changed a thing. take it with a grain of salt. yes, you two still treat each other the same way, and no, he is not your anything—just a friend.

he’s such a fish to catch that you’re surprised why he’s still not seeing anyone at this point. maybe there was some point that you’ve thought about how there could be possibility that he could like you the way you like him, which is stopping him from seeing anyone else.

or maybe his actions has raised your hopes up and made you delusional. how could you know? you’ve been friends for three whole years now, yet you still can’t read him.

he left you on delivered? that’s new. well- it was bound to happen. it’s not like he’s obligated to reply or at least leave a reaction… right? right. you’re his best friend. nothing more, nothing less.

but what could he be doing? it’s a sunday. he doesn’t have practice, and the term just started. he couldn’t have had any assessments he needed to finish.

your questions were quickly answered once you’ve opened up your twitter app and found someone unfamiliar in your timeline.

“pfft—this happens all the time.” you say. “and they’re always fake.”

and how you wished you were right.

“oh.” was everything you could let out, as if that one tweet didn’t break your heart into pieces. you were glad he’s finally seeing someone—but at the same time, you had hoped that it was just a misunderstanding, that he’s actually maggy’s cousin… or something! just not her suitor. even though the signs are as clear as day.

it was petty, and this- this will hurt you, and it’ll hurt bad. so you had no other choice but to try and distance yourself away from him as much as possible, to save yourself and to respect who he’s been seeing. it was for the better… but—he was making it hard.

nagi’s completely clueless!

you didn’t know whether to laugh it out because of how oblivious he is. does he not realize what he’s doing to you?

at this point, you start to realize how none of it was your fault in the first place. you couldn’t control you feelings, and it certainly didn’t help that nagi treats you way too well.

even so, you could never blame him. it could just be in his nature, to be kind, lovable, and to be the pinnacle of a girl’s dream. and you were the one at fault because you’re taking advantage of his kindness to satisfy your curiosity regarding what it felt like being handled with genuine care, only for it to backfire—seeing that you actually fell for him big time.

still, that wasn’t your first train of thought when you met him. you genuinely wanted to be friends because he seemed like a cool guy. it just so happens that your heart begun to agitate more and more everyday when you’re with him.

or maybe it was maggy’s fau—oh my god, make up your mind, yn!!

“let’s not put the blame on everyone. whatever happened, happened. none of it matters now. i just have to get myself out of this mess… then i’ll be back to same, old me. right.” you thought to yourself.

you have been ignoring nagi for the past three days, leaving him on delivered, and practically scrambling away when you see him in the hallways—or everywhere, actually.

did you tell him why you’re doing this? no, why would you?

does he care? a lot, as a friend, most likely.

he’s been trying to reach you for the past 3 days, while you were off running everywhere but to the places you and nagi went to together, which is hard because you’ve both been to every cafe, every movie theater, every arcade, every mall your city could offer.

there was this one place you two haven’t been in yet. it was perfect for admiring the view below, or simply a place to just clear your mind.

you planned on going there after classes were over, and it made you quite excited. you were supposed to go here with nagi but… you know, things happened. nonetheless, you wanted to enjoy this, even if it meant not being able to bring nagi with you.

after class ended, you bid your farewell to your friends before getting into a cab and going to the rooftop lounge that recently just opened.

you opened the door that leads to the lounge and was surprised by what greeted you at the door.

it was nagi, with maggy. their hands intertwined as they admire the city.

ouch. seeing them like that felt like ten thousand trains running me over.

you were about to leave when you heard her call for your name. you froze on the spot, a course of thoughts ran through your brain on whether to run for it, or play a good face and not ignore her calls.

“y/n! come join us.”

you made the decision to turn around and approach them instead… she waved and smiled at you. god—how can you make such a lovely woman?!

it was too late to run anyways, you felt their eyes on you when you froze by the door, it would be far too embarrassing to just leave with them knowing that you heard maggy call for you.

“hey, i couldn’t reach you.”

nagi greeted. you briefly glanced into his eyes and gave him a smile before breaking eye contact. you could barely look into his eyes—you might burst out crying if you stare any longer.

“i was busy.”

you replied, dryly. you really were busy; busy with assessments, busy distracting yourself from your feelings, busy doing whatever it takes to forget about nagi… but if you two keep meeting like this—and if he keeps trying to talk to you, it will pose a challenge for you to fully move on.

why do you have to let it linger? you ask him in your mind as if he could read it. his constant concern for your wellbeing, his actions towards you, his daily messages checking up on whether you’ve eaten your meals yet—why does he have to let your feelings for him linger?

unknowingly, sure. but has he have not a single clue on why you’ve been distancing yourself? on why you haven’t been hanging around much?

you missed him, really. but this was the perfect distance for you both. he can keep reaching out until the day he gets sick of it; but as much as you want to respond to him, you can’t—you shouldn’t.

the following months were practically the hell. you’ve completely cut off contact with him (you ghosted him, basically) and was buried in a never-ending cycle of homework and projects, leaving no time for anything else.

when the semester ended, your friend, bachira, invited you to his party. he noticed that you were completely restless and said that you needed to loosen up a little.

it was 12 in the evening but the party has just begun—you could consider yourself a fan of staying at home in my comfy pajamas and old indie movies, rather than a party ‘til sunrise & drink ‘til you drop type of person… which lead you to excusing yourself out of the room with flashing lights and booming music to find somewhere else more peaceful to drink.

you found yourself on a huge balcony with a red cup on your hand. thank the gods that the doors muffles out the noise coming from the inside.

this was just right. and honestly what you needed. all that workload from the past few weeks has been killing you.

what you didn’t expect was for someone to break the silence you gave yourself.

“it was about time i saw you again. and out of all the places i thought i would see you in, a party was not one of them.”

nagi spoke nonchalantly. his sudden interjection jolted you out of your own thoughts. it’s been about six months since you’ve broke off contact with him. hell, you could barely remember his voice.

“oh fuc-… ah. i’m sorry- i should find another place.”

“no. stay. you owe me an explanation.”

maybe it was just you, but given where this conversation is headed… he sounded intimidating. his voice didn’t change much, perhaps it didn’t change at all, but you heard the sharpness of his words and felt the need to comply to whatever he says.

“sorry.”

“sorry doesn’t cut it, y’know?”

he lightly chuckled before mixing his drink around his own red cup that he brought.

“right… sorry. but, how are you? how’s maggy?”

“ah. it didn’t work out. she’s nice but it really isn’t working out for us.”

“oh. sorry.”

that was a surprise. you thought they’d still be all lovey-dovey with each other. maggy is a lovely girl, what could’ve gotten wrong?

“another apology and i’ll keep bothering you. you wouldn’t like that won’t you? considering how you’ve completely ghosted me for 6 months without an explanation or even a subtle hint of why you did it? right?”

“hey-!”

okay… maybe he hasn’t changed that much. he still holds his grudges. nagi broke eye contact and looked up to the moon with this… yearning look on his face—he looked so pretty, it was pathetic!!

a sigh left your lips before nervously starting to explain you side, since you felt like he really needed to know why. plus, it was a good chance to let go of that burden.

maybe a confession was nagi’s needed closure, and your way of letting go of the guilt of knowing you’ve randomly disappeared in his life without him even knowing anything.

“i like… liked. you, nagi. more than a friend should’ve.”

“what?”

his actions came to a halt. oh, he was THAT clueless

“aha—yeah… but then there came maggy. she was such a lovely person, and i know you deserved to be loved like that. i should’ve been happy for you, but i really couldn’t bring myself to. it hurts seeing my best friend whom i’ve liked for the longest time smile because of a person they’re romantically involved with, y’know?”

you weren’t able to find the strength to look at him as you explained, but it felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders after.

“i-”

“no, don’t say anything. i just really needed to let that out… for your sake, and mine. i also wanted to thank you. y’know—for everything. you’ve been a great best friend, nagi.”

“okay but-”

he didn’t get to say whatever he wanted to say because the door that leads to the party suddenly opened, revealing a tipsy bachira.

“y/n!! here you are~ and nagi too!!”

bachira gleefully said before dragging y/n back inside, leaving nagi alone in the balcony.

he watched your figure get lost in the crowd of people partying without end, saying:

“ah-… i liked you…too?”

© zuyoo — do not copy, plagiarize, or translate my work without my permission. i only upload my work in tumblr.

[manikas-whims]

Since Xavier is so little prince coded is mc the lone rose 🌹 back on his planet or the fox 🦊

Ohhh wow Anon..I didn't want to think too much on this, mostly because I read The Little Prince like..years ago and the plot isn't that coherently in my head but let's see..

The obvious interpretation can be..

Xavier is the little prince, traveling through the space, wandering on all these planets, learning something new everyday, learning from the people he meets and in turn teaching them something as well..

Queen MC should represent the rose, the Prince’s beloved whom he has left. In the book, the Prince leaves the Rose due to her vain, proud and naive behaviour. But here in Love and Deepspace, the Prince has left his beloved in order to save her from the fate destined for her..In a way, the rose has always been the major source of motivation for his travels..

Then..that must imply that the Fox represents the current timeline MC? In a way, yeah you could say that. The Fox becomes a dear friend and teaches the prince the significance of people in his life. About how one person in this sea of so many, becomes important because of the connection we share with said person, and the time we spend cultivating said relationship with them. The Fox calls this “taming”. According to the fox, “to tame means to establish ties.”

“If you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.” says the Fox.

And since Xavier has left his planet, as well as his timeline and met the current MC, they both have been slowly taming each other i.e. they've been slowly establishing a bond with each other with every encounter and moment spent together in the main story.

Now in The Little Prince..

The Fox teaches the Prince the importance of ties and significance of one person compared to the rest around them:

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

And the Fox makes the Prince realize how dear his beloved Rose is to him, and that he has a responsibility towards the Rose:

“You mustn’t forget it. You become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed. You’re responsible for your rose.”

So if Love and Deepspace writers take the same route..

then in accordance, there will come a point that Xavier might have to leave the current MC and go back to his own timeline’s Queen MC (which is exactly what he came back in time for) because he has a responsibility. And the responsibility in this context is that he vowed to himself that he'll save her life. Get her out of this cursed fate of dying and being brought back to life over and over for the sake of a planet.

BUT!

THIS IS A CHINESE OTOME GAME! And yes while that justifies nothing, I firmly believe that it is highly unlikely that the game might follow this route..

..simply because Xavier himself has never acted as such. He's been nothing but protective towards the current MC. He's been killing his own ex-teammates from the Backtrackers in order to protect MC. And he doesn't hesitate in doing so which in itself cement his standpoint and his feelings towards the current MC.

Also, I believe that..IN ESSENCE, QUEEN MC AND CURRENT MC HAVE THE SAME SOUL, AND ARE THE SAME PERSON.

So our MC doesn't need to be the Rose or the Fox. She most likely is both a cherished friend and a lover to Xavier because she is afterall, the same person. With the amount of times she's died (or forced into dying), it's obvious that the Queen MC from Xavier's actual timeline could very well be the current MC who's died so many times that in a distant future, she is reborn and exists in the same era as the one that Xavier comes from.

My word is not absolute, and this is still a very rough way to put it all into words. But I do firmly believe that that one thing that the antis keep using to antagonise Xavier will not come true because he's always been in love with ONE person and our MC as well as the Queen MC are THAT one and the same person.

» But hey! If Xavier does betray current timeline MC, then we might possibly get a plotline/route like I posted about [HERE] and I am not averse to that.

[nolita-fairytale]

don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: june/july

summary: you and carmy plan a wedding like it's the opening of a new restaurant.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov

wc: 3.4k

listen to: let's get married (bleachers cover) - mitski

a/n: the long awaited wedding FIC!! welcome to part four of the 'make my heart surrender' universe (four part series). this takes place a month after the end of 'still into you' but before the carmy as your baby daddy headcanon series (my carmy masterlist is organized chronologically, if you'd like to read in order). anyways, i truly adore writing for these two and feel it important to note that after watching season 2, i've realized this has just become an animal of its own -- its own universe/timeline/entity which also means there AREN'T any SEASON TWO SPOILERS! this chapter was inspired by a conversation from two months ago between me and @carmensberzattos so courtesy of us, enjoy some healthy relationship-future husband!carmy. also don't worry syd will be starring in the next chapter. i missed her too. lmk if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist.

masterlist | part two

"let's just get married, don't wanna walk alone, so let's get married, 'cause we don't wanna walk alone or runaway." (bleachers, let's get married.)

'I just want to be married to you' are the words uttered (first by you, you think, but maybe he said it first, you really can’t remember) that lead you and Carmy to the decision that you should elope. Sooner rather than later, preferably, is what you both agree on. It’s not like you’re planning on having a big wedding anyways. How much work can a civil ceremony at City Hall and a nice dinner party afterwards be to pull off?

Famous last words. 

You’re not sure how you’ve gotten from there to here, locked in a heated debate over menu edits with your fiance in the middle of your shared apartment when the sun’s just barely come up, but here you are.

“I’m just saying that we should be open minded and leave room for his artistic integrity!” Carmy passionately argues, winding you up as he makes his case. 

“Artistic integrity? Carmy, are you kidding me right now? I-!” you fire back, shaking your head incredulously. “We said we were gonna keep everything chill.”

“It is chill!” he defends, matter-of-factly.

Oh, he’s just looking for a fight.

“There is nothing chill about a parm espuma and it certainly doesn’t belong anywhere near the carbonara!” you scoff, stubbornly. “I mean, the only reason he even brought up the idea of a goddamn espuma in the first place is because he was trying to impress you.”

Carmy’s jaw twitches in response as he grinds his teeth, a display of discomfort at the mere thought.

“He-he was not,” he denies with the kind of conviction of a five year old toddler who's sure as can be.

You shoot him a look. 

“Carmen,” you warn him. 

Sure it’s a silly thing to fight about, but there’s no malice in this argument. It’s all passion, artistry, and for lack of a better term, foreplay. You let out a sigh, softening before you rise out of your chair. 

“Baby, when are you going to admit that you’re kind of a big deal and that people want to impress you?” you level with him, making your way over to your very stubborn and very insistent fiance. You settle down onto his lap, before tucking a stray curl behind his ear as you break, giving the sweetest smile.

He laughs dryly, averting his eyes from you because he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stand his ground (especially when you’re looking at him like that). 

You’re right. And he knows you’re right. 

And Carmy’s never been able to resist you for long anyways. 

A fox-like grin spreads across your lips and you know you’ve won the argument when you feel a pair of hands snake around your waist. 

“Don’t push it,” he warns you, seeing the look on your face as he shakes his head, finally returning his eyes to yours. 

You raise an eyebrow, “You like that I push.” 

He nods slowly in surrender, his face softening as he asks you:

“You really want to fight about this?” 

You shake your head with a laugh. 

“No, of course not! Of course, I don’t want to fight about this!” you exhale, sliding your hands over his shoulders to wrap around his neck. “But I do think that your new buddy is trying to impress us and that it may be wise for us to reign him in – clear the air on what it is we’re looking for.” 

A beat. 

“Don’t get me wrong. Of course, we can leave room for creativity… but I don’t want our wedding party to turn into some pretentious fine dining fancy party.”

“Well, we did meet because of some pretentious fine dining fancy thing,” he points out, giving your hip a squeeze. 

You giggle, “How could I forget?”

You shake your head once more, leaning in to press your lips against his. Carmy inhales deeply, enjoying the feel of your lips on his, your arms wrapped around his neck, the weight of your body on his lap. 

You indulge him for a moment, deepening the kiss as you feel your future husband relax against you, because you really are happy that Carmy’s made a new friend. 

Carmy had met a private chef a few months ago and had been trying to hire him for the restaurant for a while now. Wanting to work for himself, the chef had respectfully declined all advances, but he and Carmy had kept in touch, and it looked as if the relationship could potentially extend outside of the four walls of a kitchen. Since you both agreed that no one from the restaurant should work the party, it had been good timing (making a new friend and the fact that he was a private chef) and the right move for Carmy to ask his new friend to cater the wedding.

“Fine,” you resign yourself, pulling away from the kiss. “Derek can keep the liquid nitrogen but that is as far as it goes.”

Carmy shoots you a look – one that says he’s not quite convinced. 

“And I will be more open minded in the spirit of… artistic integrity. But I’m not changing my mind about courses. Family style or bust, baby,” you negotiate, a serious look in your eyes. 

Carmy thinks it over for a moment before finally coming to a resolution. 

“Deal,” Carmy nods with the same intensity as a ‘yes, chef.’

You nod too, completing the agreement. 

“I want it to be real, Carm. I want it to be us,” you reiterate, your voice soft as you make your condition loud and clear. 

“I know,” he returns, just as determined and committed to the idea as he is to you. 

You’re satisfied with the resolution – even more satisfied with the fact that you’ve come to it together. 

“You know…” he starts, something in his voice that you can’t quite make out, unsure if you’re going to like what’s about to come out of his mouth. “... it could be a perfect menu if you just let me-.”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Carmen!” you interrupt, knowing exactly what he was going to say. 

You are so not playing this game today.

“You don’t even know what I was-!”

“Yes, I do! You are not catering your own wedding party,” you protest, adamantly.  

You know him too well. 

He laughs, shaking his head as he leans back against his chair, like he’s in high school again, and you’ve just caught him sneaking back into the house. 

“God, I love you! But sometimes you drive me up the wall, Carm,” you groan out of frustration, eliciting another laugh from his chest as you hang your head, resting your forehead against his shoulder this time.

“Such a control freak,” you sigh, against his chest. 

“Thought you like it when I take control,” he murmurs, beginning to leave kisses across your exposed skin. 

You giggle partially because it tickles, and mostly because of what Carmy’s said. 

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

You lift your head and Carmy kisses you again, this time savoring the way your lips feel against his for a little while longer – just long enough to remind himself that he wants to have the option to sneak away in the middle of your wedding party to have sex much more than he wants cater to be in control all the time. 

Sometimes, he thinks to himself, control is overrated anyways. 

Only sometimes.

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, letting go of the idea. “I’ll get back to Derek about final menu edits and make sure he knows that while we want him to be creative, we also want to keep it… you know….”

“Chill?” you emphasize. 

“Chill,” he confirms.

“Okay. Thank you, baby,” you smile softly, trying your best to enjoy the temporary moment of peace between the two of you. Carm squeezes your hip as you roll your eyes with a sigh, muttering an:

“Oh fuck.” 

“What’s up?”

You shake your head again, laughing incredulously before letting out another sigh. 

“Just wait till we go through this again with the cake.”

“Fuck!” Carmy shouts towards the ceiling, throwing his head back as you laugh. “Why did we say we wanted to plan a wedding again?”

“Well baby, I don’t think either of us can pass up on a chance to create a menu,” you giggle, leaving a few kisses along his jawline before you make your way up to his nose. “Can you imagine if we decided to have a full-on wedding? That’d be a freaking mess.”

He chuckles, “It’d be like opening another restaurant.”

“Yeah, pass,” you hum, so glad to have dodged that bullet.

-----------------------------------------

By the time you and Carmy are even ready to focus on the cake portion of said wedding-dinner-party it’s a month later. You’ve been through half of the bakeries in the city, you think, and something’s just felt off. You’re practically eating your words, as it dawns on you that you’re having the exact same thought as Carmy: that it could just be perfect if you were able to make it yourself. 

Then again, you remind yourself that a cake is an entirely different thing versus running a dinner service, so it can’t be that unhinged to have these thoughts, right?

But you and Carmy made an agreement, so in solidarity, you decide it’s only fair for you to make like Tammy Wynette and stand by your man. 

You’re grateful for the half day you have today (“Summer Fridays”, as it’s so fondly referred to around your office) – and the fact that you get to work from home. What it means for you is that today you can clock out early and pick up samples from the tenth bakery (okay, so maybe it’s the eleventh but truthfully, you’ve lost count) in the running for your wedding cake. 

You change out of your pajamas for the first time today, throwing on a slip dress and one of Carmy’s crisp, white Ralph Lauren button downs – worn layered and open like a cardigan – before you head to the bakery, and then eventually, The Bear.

The restaurant is closed for the afternoon, as they do a shift change over: some stay and take a break, others go home, let the dinner crew come in and take over. It’s different these days and while some days you miss it – the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, the sounds of an ‘all day’ shouted by the expeditor, the careful dance that is working in a kitchen – you remind yourself that you’re enjoying a half day, and that when you’d chosen to leave, you were ready for a change. 

After entering The Bear, you make small talk with Gary while he finishes turning over the dining room for dinner, catching up over the flag football league he’s recently joined – one, it seems, to be taken very seriously by all participants. You tell him that you’re here with wedding cake samples, and he’s more than eager to give you some space to set up, because who doesn’t love free cake? Mid-sentence, Gary gestures towards a table for you to set up on, as you begin to unpack your large brown paper bag. 

“Well, well. Look who it is,” Marcus calls out, as soon as he sees you. “Heard a rumor you were out here. You brought cake?”

“I brought cake,” you repeat as confirmation, turning to see your dear friend and mentee. “But don’t worry. I’ll be thinking about yours the whole time.”

He snickers, moving in for a hug. 

“‘S Good to see you, Chef. How ya been?” he asks, enveloping you in his arms for a tight squeeze. 

“Good to see you too, Marcus. I’m good. Had a half day today so… you know, we’ve just been busy with wedding stuff. But what’s going on with you? What’s new?” you answer, turning the focus back onto him. 

“Oh you know. The usual. Though, I’ve been workin’ on some new shit for Syd’s new menu when I’m not here,” he answers, a broad smile spreading across his lips as he talks about. 

“Jeez, Brooks. I know, Carm’s got ya busy. When the hell do you ever sleep?” you ask, as you shake your head. 

“I don’t,” he answers plainly. 

And just as you’re about to remind Marcus to get some rest, Sugar comes bursting through the front doors, her rounded belly full on display now that she’s had a chance to tell almost everyone the news of her pregnancy. 

“Hey! Sorry I’m running late,” Sugar says, announcing her arrival. “Got tied up running an errand and then I had to stop at the store for Tums. This baby is killing me with the heartburn these days. Fucking christ.” 

“Oh, no big deal. I haven’t even seen Carmy yet,” you shrug, as she mutters a surprised ‘oh’ and Marcus mumbles something about going to get Carmy. “It’s good to see you!”

“Yo, Carm!” Marcus shouts, heading back to the kitchen while you and Sugar exchange hellos. 

“Awww, it’s good to see you too, sweetie,” she smiles, pulling you in for your second hug of the day. 

This is something you miss about working in the kitchen: the camaraderie, the found-family, all the love. 

“Wow this is… quite the spread,” Sugar mentions, eyeing the cakes you’ve laid out on the table.

“Yeah… they had a lot of ideas, I guess,” you say with a shrug. 

Sugar shoots you an unconvinced look. 

“Okay, fine.  I had a lot of ideas…” you admit guiltily. 

“...aaaand no one is going to do it the way you want it to be done,” Sugar sighs in the middle of your sentence. 

“And they were more than willing to play. I couldn’t help myself!” you finish, defending yourself. 

“Well, your enthusiasm is one of the many things I love about you, but… yeah, this is a lot,” Sugar grins as she gestures towards the overwhelming amount of cake you’ve just laid out on the table. 

Regardless, Sugar really can’t wait to be your sister-in-law. 

“Speaking of… I thought this was just a small wedding. It looks like you’re preparing to feed the entire French Army during Marie Antoinette’s reign.”

“Oh it still is – small,” you answer, simply. “I went a little overboard, didn’t I?”

“Why go through all this trouble? You might as well have a small ceremony instead of-,”

“No!” you protest, hearing another voice say the same thing. 

“Sugar, we’ve already told you that we don’t want to do anything big!” Carmy adds, as soon as he enters the dining room. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, sending you the softest smile as he looks your way.

“Hey you,” you smile in return as he approaches you, giving him a short ‘hello’ peck on the lips. 

“Fak attack!” Fak cries out, as he enters the dining room. “Ooooh cake tasting!”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, as Fak is quickly followed by some of the line cooks that have just wrapped up lunch service. 

It’s then that you hear Tina’s voice, growling something in Spanish as Richie speaks way too loudly about god knows what, as Ebra follows behind, somehow in the middle of a story that has little to do with whatever Tina and Richie are going on about. 

You smile to yourself, because you really do miss this part. 

“I told everyone we were doing a cake tasting,” Carmy starts, gesturing towards the rest of the staff as they join you. “That cool?”

“Totally. We have more than enough to share,”

“That’s true,” Sugar says. "And I can't complain because the baby is reeeeaaally craving cake these days."

As everyone at The Bear crowd around the circular dining table where you set up the cake tasting, you all enjoy bites here and there, comparing notes, sharing reactions to each flavor combo. 

Earl grey & lemon. A classic red velvet. And of course, you had to get a little weird with the black sesame clementine combination you’d dreamed up with the pastry chef you’d been working with. 

“I think my favorite is the black sesame and clementine but I doubt it’s a cake everyone will like. Doesn’t have the crowd appeal we probably should keep in mind,” you murmur to Carmy as the two of you watch his staff go on about the tiramisu-inspired one. 

“Well, babe, it’s our wedding! We can do whatever we want,” he encourages you. 

“I don’t know,” you sigh, paralyzed with indecision. 

“The tiramisu one is good. I’m leaning towards that,” Carmy shares with you, eager to hear your thoughts. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s a little too on the nose?” you reply, unsettled and unsure that any of these are right. 

“Why don’t you guys just let me make it?” Marcus interjects, asking the question he’s been wondering this entire time. 

“I-,” you start, unable to help the fact that your eyes begin to wet with emotion. “Really?” 

He laughs, glancing sideways at you. 

“Uh yeah. I’m a little offended neither of you did in the first place,” Marcus teases the two of you, though you know there’s some truth to it. 

You and Carmy exchange a look that says something along the lines of: ‘oh shit.’

“Well, we didn’t think you’d-,” you stammer, beginning to explain the why behind you and Carmy’s hesitation in the first place.

“We just thought you’d want to- that you should be able to enjoy the party,” Carmy adds, finishing your sentence, his eyes widening as he realizes that you both kinda fucked up. 

“Chefs,” he says, looking from you to Carmy once more, with a seriousness in his voice as he rises to his feet. “It would be my honor. And just because I’m makin’ the cake doesn’t mean I won’t be able to enjoy the party. I can do it in the days leading up to it.”

“Oh-, okay, yes! Yes!” you cry, leaping to your feet this time, as if you’re accepting Carmy’s proposal again. 

Richie rolls his eyes in response, groaning as he mutters something snarky to Fak, as Marcus pulls you into the biggest bear hug. 

“You all are a bunch of saps,” he scoffs, directing this next comment to Marcus this time. “You big softie!”

“Richie!” Sugar hisses, glaring the sharpest daggers from her eyeballs into Richie’s skull. 

“Oh fuck off, Richie,” you snort, with a laugh. “You’re just salty because… wait. Carm, you haven’t asked him yet?”

“Babe, I-,” Carmy whines, his eyes wide. “You just ruined the surprise!”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah ‘fuck’ is right,” he pouts, though he can never stay upset with you for too long. 

“What the fuck are you guys even talking about?” Richie asks, squinting as he looks between the two of you. 

You and Carmy share a knowing look, deciding that now is a better time as ever. 

“We want you to be our witness, Cousin. At the courthouse,” Carmy says, a soft intensity in his eyes as he answers Richie’s question.

“Jesus Christ,” Sugar snarks, with an eye roll as she realizes she’ll be stuck with him at the damn courthouse as well.

“Wh-?” Richie begins to ask, looking from Carmy to you, then back to Carmy again, tears welling up in his eyes as he realizes what Carmy’s just said. “You-? Really?”

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, in a well-duh kind of tone. “Plus you know I can’t get married without my Ava there.”

“And sign the marriage license and everything?” Richie balks, because he really can’t believe it. 

“Yeah,” you reassure him. 

“Yeah. I mean, fuck yeah! Fuck yeah!” Richie declares, even more sentimental than Marcus this time. “Shit, Cuz… Hell yeah, I’ll sign the fuck out of that marriage license as your witness.”

Tina snickers, exchanging a look with Sugar, and earning a glare from Richie. He lowers his voice, directing the question towards you this time: 

“Oh and uh… cool if Ava still sings “Love Story?” I kinda promised her she could sing a Taylor Swift song as part of my best man speech and she insists that one is about you and Carmy,” Richie asks, looking around suspiciously, afraid of someone else hearing. 

“Awwww, Richie. Of course,” you coo, only melting inside a little at the thought.

“What?” Richie snaps, realizing that he hasn’t been as discreet as he thought he was. 

Sugar snorts in response, earning a laugh from both Tina and Marcus. 

It’s Marcus’ turn to roll his eyes at Richie this time. 

“What?” Richie repeats, this time with a little more annoyance in his voice. 

Sugar smirks, firing back with a:

“Who’s the big softie now, Rick?”