#but this popped into my head at like 5am a few weeks ago

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 17

Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: Miguel has been distant lately and you don't know why. Word Count: 23.9k Warnings: distant Miguel; he displays similar behaviors from the beginning of the fic, no sleeping and skipping meals; tones/mentions of death; small moment in which reader misunderstands Miguel's words and thinks he means something else (him wanting to be gone permanently); lots of fluff memories; both Miguel and you cry; lyrics for some of the songs (two) will be sprinkled in the dialogue, I tried my best to translate for one, while for the other one you can search it up. You may already know the meaning behind it since I think most of Miguel nation knows this one song already. I think that's it. If you find something else, pls let me know :) Music (Spotify playlist): "rises the moon (piano version)" - goated. "Baila Esta Cumbia" - Selena "Las Mañanitas" - Vicente Fernández (birthday song for Mexicans, at least) "someday i'll get it" - Alek Olsen "pluto projector (melody)" - emptiness "En Familia" - Carlo Siliotto (unfortunately this song isn't on Spotify, but it was one of the two main songs for this chapter. You may find it on YT here) "Luna de Xelajú" - Gaby Moreno, Oscar Isaac (yes, we're bringing it back and you better have tissues ready 🤧) "Jacob and The Stone" - Emile Mosseri Masterlist (where you can find all my other fics, but most importantly, all fanart for NC 🥹) Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼❤️

Part 17

The sight of sunlight streaming through the holographic blinds of your bedroom meets your eyes when you first wake up. Yawning, you stretch beneath the sheets, slowly waking up. You roll over on your side with a sigh, staring at the little pockets of sunshine on the floor.

The warmth under the covers keeps you there, anchored to the bed for a few more minutes until you finally decide to get out of bed to start the day. You slip on both gizmos; the one everyone has available to them and the new one Miguel gave you to test for him, removing the wristband you wear around the penthouse due to comfort and to avoid glitching since you’re not in your universe.

Trying not to think about something, or rather someone, you make your bed and get ready for the day. It’s only when you’re done with your bathroom routine that you decide to find out.

“Lyla?” you say.

“Hey - morning,” she says popping through your gizmo.

“Morning… Is Miguel…” you trail off.

“He’s already at HQ, yes,” she replies, fixing her glasses. “He left two hours ago.”

“Thanks.” With a frown, you make your way downstairs. You only check the kitchen out of curiosity, not because you’re particularly hungry. Knowing Miguel is already gone has decreased your appetite. Sure enough, you find a note on the counter from him, stating that he’s going to HQ. With a sigh, you slip out of the penthouse and head to your universe for your usual morning patrol, feeling down about the situation.

The problem is… Today is not the first day Miguel has gone to HQ so early. He’s been leaving the penthouse as early as 5am, unlike the past weeks and months since you’ve been living with him. Typically, the two of you leave together around the same time you’ve left the place today. You have coffee and sometimes even cook a full breakfast, but it hasn’t been like that for a few days.

You eventually arrive to HQ after your patrol, still feeling a heaviness around you. You do your tasks such as working on the weekly report, going on missions, and helping other spider members when and where it’s needed until it’s time for you to head to Miguel’s lab for your weekly organizing.

It’s still something you enjoy doing, especially even more now that Miguel is so much more open than when you first started organizing his lab two years ago. Even if you’re not conversing, the simple enjoyment of being in each other’s presence is satisfying to the two of you.

You look down at the boxes with food from the cafeteria and the drink carrier in your hands as you head there. You’re certain Miguel hasn’t had anything to eat, except maybe a coffee, if even that, so you’ve decided to get him something. Of course, being lunch time, you got him his favorite meal from the cafeteria: empanadas and other sides, along with a water and a coffee.

As expected, he thanks you with a small smile, but it’s one that doesn’t reach his eyes these days. You both eat in silence before you begin to work. As always, you make your rounds and check each surface, seeing what all there is to organize before you actually begin. You do this quietly, noticing that Miguel is too quiet. In fact, he’s been so much quieter the last few days, as if something has been weighting on his mind. Deeply. Terribly.

You’ve found him staring off into his screens several times over the last few days, his crimson eyes unblinking and focused on nothing in particular, lost in whatever has been plaguing his thoughts these days.

His smiles are distant and sad. He’s been unable to give you a true, genuine smile.

To everyone else, it may seem like a normal thing. Maybe they haven’t even noticed it, but you know better.

He’s far too quiet when cooking. His gaze is unfocused when he’s reading in the afternoons. He’s sought more solitude recently, heading upstairs to his room after dinner, and has been working out every day in the private gym in the penthouse building for several hours at a time.

You dared asked him yesterday if something was wrong, in a far more subtle way, of course.

“I’m alright, just tired,” he replied blinking back into focus, raising his hand to move screens around. He was back to working, or well, actually working since he was zoning out before you talked to him.

You continue to work silently now, taking note of the fact that even Lyla doesn’t chat with you like she normally does. She pops in and out, doing her tasks without any banter.

With a heavy feeling, you glance at Miguel. He’s on his platform, his back to you. Your eyes trace his broad shoulders, the tense stance.

Those shoulders.

They’ve carried too much for far too long.

What is plaguing his mind as of now? You can only wonder to yourself.

You carry on with your tasks, giving Miguel his time. You hope he’ll feel comfortable enough to share with you what’s been on his mind soon, or at least that his mood will improve because his recent disposition has reminded you of the early days when you first started organizing the lab. And, the truth is, that that worries and saddens you. It almost sends little alarms to your head about the possibility of maybe… Losing him.

You shake your head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. You don’t want to think about that possibility. The possibility of him taking a step back and deciding to shut everyone out again.

Including you.

But surely, that’s not it. Right?

You’ve thought about it the last few days. Did you do or said something that made him upset? Is there a chance that you did and he doesn’t want to bring it up to avoid hurting your feelings? You even wonder if maybe he’s… In need of space from you. Maybe having you around too much has become stressful, even suffocating. You debate that specifically, having no other explanation for his current behavior.

You’ve both tried to give each other space while at the penthouse, so it’s not like you spend every hour together in the evenings. During the days, you’re off doing other things either at HQ or at your universe. Yet, you still wonder if you being in his personal space, in his home, has become too much for him. Maybe you’ve pushed his boundaries, those you always try to respect, without even realizing it.

With a frown and a bad feeling in your chest, one you’ve carried with you over the last few days, you continue to work wordlessly until you’re done. You decide to leave the lab afterwards and give Miguel space, thinking maybe he truly needs a break from you.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. Miguel stays a few more hours at HQ than he usually does these days. When he gets home, he reheats his own dinner, even though you offer to do it for him, a gesture he politely declines. In previous days, you talked with him for a bit. You’ve told him about your day, back in your universe when you’re off to do patrols, which you’ve continued to do. Just because you’re living in Miguel’s universe for the moment, doesn’t mean you’ve abandoned your dimension nor left your city defenseless.

You know you have Miguel’s technology to help connect with your two-way radio in case of emergencies, but even then, you like to do patrols. It was your promise to Peter, your Peter, after all. To keep your city safe, so you do.

You patrol your city, witnessing all sorts of things. One thing you’ve definitely learned from being Spider-Woman is that people do strange, funny, and sometimes even wholesome things when they believe no one is watching. If only they knew Spider-Woman is often watching from some rooftop.

It’s these stories you’ve told Miguel, in hopes of bringing some light to those sad eyes. You’ve succeeded but only during those short moments of time.

Whatever is on his mind takes the happiness out of them and his heart.

Today, instead of talking to him, you opt to remain silent as you clean the kitchen to at least give him company. Not long after, he excuses himself after washing his dishes, heading to his bedroom. Once you’re done cleaning the kitchen, you decide to lounge in your room, or Gabriel’s rather.

The penthouse is, once more, silent this evening, and for the first time, you feel an emptiness from it.

With a sigh, you stare out the window. The sight of the sun setting reminds you of Father’s Day and how you both sat on the rooftop that evening, enjoying the view before the sun dipped below the horizon, giving you a memory you’ll forever remember.

You touch your elbow, recalling how you ended up hurting yourself that evening in an attempt to hide the gifts you got for Miguel. Of course, it’s healed now like other injuries have in the past regardless of how big or small, physical or emotional.

Time heals all.

Usually.

You turn towards the closet where you hit yourself that day. Before you know it, you’ve opened the door and stare at the top of it. Your eyes find Peter’s box with all of his belongings, the same one you haven’t opened since you packed it.

And today is still not that day.

You close the door again and lean back on it, the sunset filtering through the window. Silently, you wonder if Miguel is watching it, too, from his own room.

You almost wish you could send him a message, but that would be insensitive and inappropriate when he’s in such a mood.

Are you watching the sunset, too?

You scoff to yourself. Yeah, not the best time.

Isn’t it beautiful? The colors - that shade of red.

It reminds you of Miguel’s eyes.

Shaking your head at your random thought, you sit down on the chair within your room and stare at the sunset some more. You remain like that until the sun fully disappears, still thinking about him and wishing you knew what is bothering him.

It’s a few minutes after the sun sets that you stand up and do a little organizing around your room. You know you’re only trying to distract yourself from Miguel but you accept the distraction happily. It’s the only way you can stop thinking about him and wondering what’s going on, analyzing your actions and words from the last few days before his mood changed. Your organizing halts half an hour later when you hear Miguel’s bedroom door open.

You frown, knowing you’re only able to hear it because he wants you to. He always goes out of his way to make as little noise as possible in case you’re taking a nap or simply to avoid disrupting you.

You don’t hear his footsteps however. You hardly do. For a man his size, you’d think you’d hear them, but no. He’s so silent.

For a moment, you wonder if he even left his room. You foolishly hope that he’s opened the door to give you a sign, one that means he’s better and ready to interact, but your hopes are shattered when you receive the notification from your gizmo.

“I’m at the gym.” - M

A part of you wants to change into workout clothes and go to the gym just to be near him, even if you keep your distance, but no.

You recognize when someone wants space - when someone wishes to be alone.

Miguel wants that now, so, you stay put in the penthouse instead, though you can’t find it in yourself to do something relaxing such as reading a book, or watching a movie or show. You don’t engage with any of your hobbies, old or new. Instead, you slip on headphones and do chores like laundry and vacuuming the living room’s rug. You wipe the ceiling to floor windows of both the living and dining area rooms, needing no ladder thanks to your spider abilities as you listen to music.

You go through an entire album, marking an hour. You play another one, focusing on other chores like drying the dishes and placing them back where they go. You adjust the couches and fix your blanket. You dust the bookcases and Miguel’s new photographs before you sweep the living room, using some advanced broom despite having robot vacuums to take care of it.

Back at the kitchen, you wipe the counters once more and then sweep that area, too. You even venture to the other living room, the one that’s for entertaining guests, and repeat the process all over again.

You keep listening to music, the hours tick by. It’s eventually eleven and Miguel is still at the gym. You only know he’s still there because Lyla tells you so. After all the chores and restlessness, you take a shower before going to bed at last, even though you simply lay there, staring at the ceiling - alone in the penthouse.

You grow restless staring at the four walls, so you eventually get up and leave your room. You stand in the hallway of the second floor, noticing the silence and darkness. It brings a thought to mind, but one you immediately push away.

After standing there for a few minutes, you finally head downstairs. Your steps are the only sound as you reach the living room where one single lamp remains on, one that you left on for Miguel for when he comes home. You also left small lamps on in the other living room and another one in the kitchen so he can see where he’s going when he comes back.

It’s past midnight when you turn to the windows and stare out at Nueva York. You bring your hands to your arms, hugging yourself with a deep sigh.

Is Miguel even coming back to the penthouse tonight? Or, will he stay at the gym all night?

Minutes tick by as you keep your gaze on the city, waiting.

You wait, and wait. And wait.

“Lyla?” you break the silence several minutes later.

“Yeah?” Lyla appears next to you, her voice gentle to avoid startling you.

“Can you please turn off all the lights?”

At that, Lyla turns to you, a frown on her face as she processes the odd request. “Turn off the lights? Why?”

“Please,” you whisper, still hugging yourself and staring out the windows.

Despite her confusion and the urge to question and deny your request, Lyla does as you’ve asked. She turns off every single light, leaving the penthouse in utter darkness, save for some spaces that are somewhat illuminated by the outside.

You turn away from the windows and stare at the living room and the rest of the penthouse. Everything is dark. And you’re alone.

Your thought from earlier comes back as you take in your surroundings.

This is what it’s like for Miguel - what it was like back then when he lost Gabriella. All alone, sitting in darkness and silence with so many running emotions all on his own.

“This is what it was like,” you whisper.

“What was what like?” Lyla asks, still hovering near you.

“Miguel. After everything that happened with Gabriella.”

Lyla nods, now understanding what’s going on, recalling those nights. “Yes, this is what the penthouse looked and felt like on those nights - and there was something heavy that lingered in the space. I don’t like to think about those nights.”

“I understand,” you whisper, imagining what Lyla has shared.

She nods, still staring at the darkness. A frown is visible on her face. It bothers her to see you like this. “I’m turning the lights on.”

“Is Miguel still at the gym?”

“Yeah. He’s been working out, almost nonstop for hours.”

You nod. He’s been trying to distract himself with that. From what? You don’t know.

”Lyla?”

“Yes?”

“… I know I shouldn’t ask…”

“You want to know what’s happening.”

“Yes.”

Lyla sighs, or replicates doing so anyway as you turn to face her at last, still hugging yourself. She sits down and adjusts her heart shape glasses. “I’m honestly surprised Miguel hasn’t told you, but I suppose he still has some healing to do despite all the progress he’s done in the last year,” she says, staring at you. “I guess it’s why he still finds it hard to talk about her.”

Her.

“Gabriella. It’s about Gabby,” you state.

“Yes. Tomorrow…” Lyla sighs again. “Tomorrow, or well, I guess today, considering the time now, would’ve been… her birthday.”

Suddenly everything clicks into place.

Lyla watches the way your shoulders slump, the realization hitting you, and how your entire face changes to one of understanding and pain.

“Miguel,” you sigh, understanding everything now. No wonder he’s been so different lately, he’s been thinking about Gabby’s upcoming birthday for days. Probably thinking about what age she’d be turning today. Now more than earlier, you feel like going to look for him, to comfort him somehow, to be near him to offer at least your presence, but you’re reminded that Miguel doesn’t want that. At least, you don’t believe so. If he did, he’d be here in the penthouse, not at the gym alone.

“You should get some rest,” Lyla suggests. “I know that’s probably the last thing you want to do now but… Miguel would feel far more guilty if he knows he’s been keeping you up. I’m certain he already feels upset with himself for how different he’s been the last few days.”

“I don’t think I can sleep, but I know I can’t go and look for him,” you reply.

“No, that would upset him even more. He doesn’t like disturbing you, or rather worrying you.”

“Right,” you respond, even though you wish to run and find him right now. “I’ll be in my room. Please make sure those lights remain on. I don’t want him to come back to…”

“Darkness.”

You nod.

“The lights will remain on, no worries,” she reassures you. “Try to sleep a bit. I’ll keep an eye out for him, too. If something comes up, I’ll wake you up.”

Lyla “walks” you to your room, feeling the need to look after you. You’re after all, her boss’s best friend. Looking after you is her looking after Miguel, one of her integral designs.

You settle down on the bed, covering your body with the bed sheets, your mind running wild with thoughts. Lyla wishes you a good night after several minutes of her simply hanging out around the room, knowing you’re not much for conversation now that you know the reason for Miguel’s current behavior, before she flickers away.

Alone, you’re back to staring at the ceiling and the walls in an empty penthouse. It’s close to two in the morning when you hear subtle footsteps. They slow down in front of your bedroom, stopping by the door.

For a moment, you wonder if Miguel will come in, deciding to talk to you, even if he thinks he’ll have to wake you up. Instead, you hear a soft sigh before the footsteps continue, fading once Miguel enters his bedroom.

You’re not sure if Miguel gets any sleep, even though you’re tempted to ask Lyla. A part of you refuses to continue invading his privacy by having Lyla tell you what he’s up to, so you don’t. You stay up for a while, staring at the walls, tossing and turning. You eventually doze off despite wanting to remain awake, waking up at six only to be told by Lyla that Miguel has already been at HQ for an hour.

Tired, you start the day knowing what today is.

Gabby’s birthday.

As you move about the penthouse, you wonder how old she would’ve turned today. The few images you have of her pop into your mind along with the few videos Miguel has of her - almost like a movie, and one too short, like her life.

You ask Lyla what Miguel has done. Apparently, he’s been working on data since he showed up.

Downstairs, you find a sticky note on the counter. Ever since you began living with him, you started the habit of leaving him sticky notes around the place, something Miguel has begun to reciprocate. Like the previous day, he’s left you another one today.

I’m at HQ. - Miguel

You make yourself a coffee and gulp it down in a few drinks, needing the caffeine. You debate doing your morning patrol, but eventually decide to do it anyway, thinking it’ll give you time to think. Swinging around your city and watching from rooftops on your own, you question whether you should talk to Miguel, let him know that you’re aware of what today is, but you quickly change your mind.

You imagine Miguel might not be pleased to know that Lyla told you, so you decide not to say anything, at least for now. You’ll have to pretend that you don’t know the reason he’s hurting.

Back at HQ, you walk around the building and check on things, trying to distract yourself. It’s nine in the morning when you decide to grab some breakfast from the cafeteria for both Miguel and you. You’re unsure of what the day or Miguel will be like when it’s Gabby’s birthday, but you definitely know that you want to look after him, even if it’s only by making sure he’s eating properly.

With breakfast in your hands, you begin to head to the lab with hope. You’ve only taken about twenty steps when you receive a notification through your gizmo from Jess, which you quickly realize was sent to everyone.

“For all questions or concerns, direct yourself with me. Miguel is busy. Do not disturb him.” - Jess

Lowering your arm, you wonder if that message applies to you, too.

Standing in the middle of a corridor, hands occupied with food, it suddenly feels a lot like the time you entered Miguel’s lab and found him overwhelmed, upset, but more than anything, hurt at the discovery of hidden photos and videos of Gabby and his wife by Lyla. You recall the way it felt to have stepped into the lab and you wonder now if that’s what awaits for you because you quickly make up your mind.

You’re ignoring Jess’s message.

Two years ago, you would've simply oblige and made no questions. You would’ve try not to think about your boss and wonder what he did all day, wondered if anyone dropped off food for him, or if he even left the lab in his own discrete ways to eat and drink something, to nourish his body. You would've hoped that he'd at least let either Jess or Peter B. check on him.

Two years ago, you wouldn't had done it yourself nor pushed his boundaries because you were a simple member, not one of his close ones.

Two years ago, that would’ve been the end of it, even if you silently worried about Miguel from a distance.

Today? Things are different.

Two years ago Miguel and you hardly talked, hardly interacted.

Now, you're best friends, and best friends don't leave each other alone. They don't give up on you. They keep trying just like Miguel said Harry and your other former friends from a lifetime ago should’ve with you.

With a determined nod, you continue to make your way to Miguel's lab. As usual, there's other spider members walking around. You catch a few checking their gizmos, making you wonder if they’re reading Jess’s message regarding Miguel. You nod at a few, at least at those you're not too familiar with or who might be new. To those you do know and have more of a bond with, you give them a quick and simple greeting, not opening for conversation, not when you want to see Miguel already.

You turn the corner and it’s only thanks to your spidey senses going off that you don’t run into -

“Ben,” you say, recognizing him instantly.

Ben Reilly's eyebrows shoot up, surprise visible on his face. He shifts slightly. “Y/N… Hey.” He offers a smile, scratching his neck.

“Hey,” you greet him back, returning a small smile even though you're in a rush. “I'll see you around!” you say, walking around him, determined to reach your destination.

“Hey, Y/N!” Ben calls out, turning to face you quickly. “I was wondering if I could talk to you about something…?”

You turn to face him, walking backwards with both your hands occupied with the food and drinks.

“Of course. Can we talk …” you trail off. “Later? I'm in the middle of something. I'm sorry,” you apologize softly.

He sighs subtly, his shoulders slumping just barely before he fixes his excellent posture. “I understand. I'll look for you later today.”

“Alright. That sounds good. I'll see you later, Ben. Careful if you go on missions!” You offer him a quick smile before you turn away once more and hurry off, leaving Ben behind.

He sighs again, running a hand through his hair that earns him a few glances of interest from other spider members. He watches you become smaller and smaller as you retrace steps you take each day.

Everyone knows where you're going and who you're seeking: the one person they were told to not disturb today.

That person’s door is closed to them but not for a few people like Jess Drew, Peter B. Parker, and now you.

He huffs and turns away, heading to the training sector for a workout session to sweat his frustrations away. He turns for one more glance, seeing you disappear into the elevator and heading for Miguel's floor.

You reach the lab doors, wondering if you’ll be turned away. A few seconds later, relief washes over you when Lyla confirms, after asking Miguel, that you can go in.

As far as Miguel knows, you have no idea what today is, so you offer him breakfast, which he thankfully accepts. You both sit on his elevated platform and eat in silence, legs dangling from it. As you eat, you remind yourself that you agreed to saying nothing, to pretend like you don’t know. You stay true to that even though your mind is a mess, even though you want to do more than just offer Miguel food.

However, you say nothing as you eat. Even after breakfast, you reveal nothing. You don’t want Miguel to feel pressured to say anything just because you know, behind his back. No, if he says anything, you hope it’s because Miguel is ready and comfortable doing so.

So, you stick with him for a while, working silently from your own area in the lab now knowing that his behavior has nothing to do with something you may have done or said, or your mere presence as you were worrying about yesterday. At some point you leave him because you’re needed by Jess, so you do so reluctantly.

For lunch time, it’s the same with the small difference that you both make small talk. The hours tick by and when you look at your gizmo, it’s suddenly three in the afternoon. Due to Jess’s warning, no one sends Miguel messages except for Jess, nor does anyone show up to the lab. It’s just Miguel, Lyla, and you.

You yourself get a few messages from the spider gang, asking if Miguel is alright and why you’ve been hiding at his lab all day. You reassure them both Miguel and you are physically alright. You don’t know what else to say. It’s not your place to share something so sensitive and personal, especially when you’re not supposed to even know.

Standing up, you stretch quietly, remembering that Ben Reilly wanted to talk to you. You figure you should make yourself available at least for an hour. He hasn’t sent you any messages, so you wonder if he’s already aware that you’ve been at Miguel’s lab for the majority of the day, hence the reason for the lack of messages from his end. You pack your things silently, shutting the laptop and fixing the area, which catches Miguel’s attention.

On his platform, he turns to look at you. Seeing you pack up makes him realize you’re probably not coming back because if you were, you would be leaving your desk as it was. Watching you push the chair under the desk only solidifies the fact.

“Heading… out?” Miguel asks, starting the conversation for the first time in days.

It catches you by surprise, so much it’s clearly expressed on your face. It immediately pains Miguel, to see how surprised you are that he’s talking to you. His hands close into fists at his sides, cursing mentally.

“… Yes,” you reply, picking up your empty cup. “I’m heading out.”

Miguel nods, his expression neutral but quickly morphing into a pained one.

“Migs…?” you say softly, quickly noticing his expression changing.

“Mierda [shit],” Miguel whispers, looking away and unable to stop himself from thinking he’s undeserving of your nickname. A nickname, or a term of endearment, is a gesture from someone who cares about you, and here he is, hurting you with his behavior. Seeing the surprise look on your face just seconds ago solidifies that. Miguel’s guilt only intensifies as the look on your face flashes in his mind. You don’t hurt those that you care for and care about you, but now he has hurt you to some degree.

“Miguel?” you try again.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” Miguel says, exhaling deeply with a remorseful tone. “I’m … sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Hearing Miguel say that throws all ideas about leaving out the window. You place the cup down and make your way to him, his head hanging low.

“Miguel,” you say once more, gently.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, lifting his head enough so you can see his face.

“Don’t,” you say. “Don’t apologize.”

“You deserve an apology,” Miguel replies. “I’ve been - I haven’t been in a good mood… I need to tell you something.”

“You don’t have to, Miguel,” you counter gently.

“I do. You deserve an explanation,” Miguel continues with a sigh, shaking his head in frustration at himself. “I saw the surprise on your face from me talking to you. You shouldn’t be surprised by that, but you are because I’ve been - a jerk.”

You sigh, standing on his platform. “You’re not a jerk, Miguel.” You state firmly. “I… I was wondering what was the matter,” you pause, wanting to be honest. “Don’t be mad at Lyla but… She told me a few hours ago. Some time before you returned to the penthouse this morning from the gym.”

“Lyla,” Miguel says, not even upset. “A part of me is relieved you already know… I should’ve told you sooner, but I couldn’t…” Miguel shakes his head, his eyes closed. He gulps softly. “It’s her birthday,” Miguel whispers, finally sharing from his own lips what has been on his mind all these past few days. ”Today is Gabby’s birthday.”

Nodding, you take a step closer. “I know,” you start. “I know it’s her birthday…” you reply, not knowing what else to say right now. To be honest, you weren’t expecting Miguel to tell you today. “I know it must be hard to share that,” you add softly.

Miguel sighs gently, nodding. “May I be honest?”

“Yeah, of course,” you whisper.

“I don’t want to be here right now.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you’re filled with worry instantly, for a second thinking that Miguel means something else, something much sadder, darker.

“I want to be home,” he goes on, clarifying. “I don’t want to be here, trying to distract myself from my thoughts about her.”

You sigh in relief, nodding. “We can go home, if you want?”

Miguel nods, wanting now more than ever to leave his lab. “Lyla, please let Jess know I’m going home,” Miguel says before correcting himself. “Let her know we’re both going home, dulzura and me.”

-♡-

Back at home, Miguel takes a shower while you begin to prepare an early dinner. You know that there’s essentially nothing in the whole multiverse that can lessen Miguel’s hurt today, but you hope that a homemade meal will sooth his heart just a little.

When he comes back downstairs, showered and dressed in lounging clothes, you fix him a plate before joining him. He doesn’t say anything else about Gabby, which you respect. You’re grateful he’s at least told you about Gabby’s birthday and that you’re both home eating together instead of him staying after hours at HQ before coming home and hiding at the gym.

Even after dinner and cleaning the kitchen, you’re unsure of what to do. You search for silent cues from Miguel. Does he want to be alone or is he okay with you being near him? You receive your answer when Miguel asks if you want to watch TV together, a question that leaves you a little surprised to start with, but one you answer with a “yes.”

You sit together in the living room. As always, you’re both on your respective couches.

Miguel watches the TV, or tries to. His attention is not fully on it for obvious reasons. Gabby is always on his mind, along with Gabriel, but due to her birthday coming up, she’s been even more so. He’s been thinking about it for days, about his little girl and how old she’d be turning today. It pains him so much, knowing she’s not here. He’s been trying to distract himself with work at HQ and then working out at the gym, going for hours so he doesn’t think about the fact that Gabby isn’t here - that she won’t be celebrating her birthday like she should.

He turns his head to look at the windows, the sun setting now. He’s reminded of yesterday when he was in his room after dinner. He found himself watching the sunset from there and in that short amount of time while the sun dipped, he thought about you. He heard you entering your room shortly after him and he wondered if you were watching it, too. He typed the message but before sending it, he changed his mind.

Miguel turns to look at you now, sitting on the couch, keeping him company. His guilt washes over him again at the sight. You denied it earlier but he’s such a jerk for the way he’s been behaving, there’s no way to deny it, at least not in his eyes.

He sighs. He promised he was going to try, didn’t he? He promised for Gabby and Gabriel. He was going to try to heal, to move forward.

It’s that thought that compels Miguel to stand up from the couch, telling you that he’d be back before heading upstairs.

You simply nod and stay in place, hoping Miguel truly does come back. To your relief, Miguel returns a few minutes later, holding a guitar.

You recognize it instantly from Miguel’s ofrenda [altar] for Día de los Muertos [Day of the Dead] as Miguel approaches you, who then takes a seat on the ground next to you. You join him a few seconds later without a doubt, watching him hold the guitar carefully.

“It’s the only thing… The only physical reminder I have left of Gabby. It was pure… Coincidence that I still have it,” Miguel shares, staring at the guitar. “A day before her universe collapsed, she asked me to fix the strings for her, so I brought it to HQ to work on it. Unfortunately, there were a lot of things happening that day. It was one thing or another. Every time I lifted it to begin working on it, something or someone would pop up and prevent me from doing so. I ended up forgetting it at HQ that day. With so much happening, I left it in my lab. It was much later when I remembered it. That last night. When I got back to her universe just in time for school to be out, she didn’t ask for it. She was so tired from the school day, she didn’t remember it. Not even later in the afternoon when she was done with school work and was free to do what she wanted, whether that was coloring, or playing with her toys, or practicing the guitar. It was me who remembered it when I tucked her in for the night.”

Miguel brushes his fingers over the strings, gently. “I told myself I’d fix the guitar as soon as I got to the lab, so I could take it back to her… So I could hear her play it in the afternoon the next day.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I had no idea that would be the last night… ever.”

Miguel doesn’t know why, but suddenly he feels like talking about that last night. He’s shared with you the last morning he spent with Gabby, just hours before one of the worst moments of his life took place.

“I used to think… After losing Gabriel, that nothing could ever hurt me as much. That there was nothing much worse that could happen to me. Nothing could ever, make me feel so much sorrow, grief, pain - and I was wrong. I never thought that I’d become a dad,” Miguel states, looking over the guitar, at the stickers that Gabby placed on it. “I never thought that I’d experience that, much less the loss of a child. I think - I know - a part of me always believed I was unworthy of such thing. I wasn’t meant for that life. Wasn’t meant to experience it. I was destined to be alone,” he continues. “And then she happened, and she - she was and continues to be one of the most beautiful things I’ve had the privilege of experiencing.”

Miguel shifts slightly, knowing you’re listening to him, like always.

“That last night, my wife and I cooked dinner. It was a normal evening, like any other. Gabby did her homework, got to play with her dolls afterwards. She had a lot, you know, but her favorites were the doctor and scientist dolls. Part of it was because they looked like her, and another part because of their professions.” Miguel smiles slightly, a sad smile. “In the short time I had with her, I always told her so. How they were mini versions of her in the future because she was so bright, so smart. I’d always tell her that she could do and be anything she wanted. I never once dampened her dreams nor her aspirations. I wanted her to know that she could be a scientist, or she could be a teacher, or she could be a bakery owner. It didn’t matter. As long as she wanted it and worked towards it, she could achieve anything, but I digress,” Miguel says, realizing he’s all over the place.

“She played with her dolls and showered afterwards. I arranged her school stuff for the morning. I always helped her prep her outfit the night before to save time in the morning, and made sure her backpack was set with her assistance to help her build responsibility, too, though I never struggled with that. She was so responsible for her age. She watched some TV that evening, and then, it was time for bed. I never missed bedtime,” Miguel continues, a fond smile on his face, his fingers splayed over the guitar.

“I loved tucking her in, reading to her. I’d climb into the bed to read to her sometimes. It was always a struggle, of course, and my back would be tense in the mornings, but it was worth it. So worth it. What I’d give… to repeat those moments. To be back in that cheerful bedroom and have her ask questions while seeking the comfort of her father… of her daddy.” Miguel sighs, thinking about that. How his heart would swell with a pure happiness unlike any other when she called him “dad” or “daddy.”

“I read to her that night and soon, she was drifting off. Sus ojitos [her little eyes; little is used as endearment, not meaning she had small eyes]… Her little eyes would flutter, trying to fight off the sleep to keep talking about the book. She’d blink real hard,” Miguel says with a soft chuckle, inhaling deeply and shakily. “Thinking it’d help her stay awake longer, but my little girl, she eventually doze off into a peaceful slumber with no worries. I was grateful for that, you know?” Miguel says turning to look at you. “There is no doubt in my mind that the original Miguel of that dimension was grateful for that, too. Gabby didn’t know what it was like to be ripped away from a peaceful dream because of your parents’ arguing in the living room. Nor did she have to worry about a younger sibling coming to her room to seek her comfort. I was always grateful that Miguel, the original of that dimension, had succeeded in providing such a safe space for her. And I was set on doing the same for her. I succeeded, too. So… she dozed off. I held her close,” Miguel whispers, recalling how it felt to hold his sleeping daughter in his arms.

“I remember thinking, ‘just a few more minutes. One day she’ll be all grown up, she may not want her dad’s affection anymore because she finds it embarrassing or uncool.’ So, I did. I stayed there with her. Now I wonder, if something deep inside me felt the danger coming. If I had sensed it somehow and I wanted to hold on to that moment - to her - just a little longer because something in me knew... knew that that would be the very last time I’d ever get to hold her like that, in such calm manner because the next day would be the very last time I held her, but under much different circumstances. That it’d be outside the comfort of her home with hundreds of frightened people running around us, seeking a safety that I couldn’t give to them because I didn’t understand what was happening.”

“Miguel,” you whisper gently, knowing to this day he blames himself for the collapse of Gabriella’s universe despite there being no evidence of such thing.

“I know,” he whispers back. “You’re too kind to me, so you don’t think I had something to do with it, but… my brain tells me so.”

“We still don’t know, you know that. There’s no evidence that suggests you did. Just because you were there, doesn’t mean you were responsible. It doesn’t make sense when so many of us have done the same, and yet those universes are still… here.” You inhale softly, hating the fact that Miguel still blames himself. You know it’s something that will take him time to let go, maybe until there’s further evidence that suggests otherwise. In Miguel’s mind, it’s not ‘innocent until proven guilty.’

It’s guilty until proven innocent.

“It probably doesn’t mean anything,” you start. “Because I know how these feelings can be rooted deep in us, despite any comforting words… but I don’t think you had anything to do with it, Miguel.”

He looks at you then, the pain in his eyes visible. “But what if it was me? I took everything from her. If I had stayed away - her universe might still be intact. She would be alive. She’d be celebrating today like she ought to,” Miguel says with desperation in his tone. “I ruined it. I should’ve never gone. I should’ve let things carry on like they were supposed to,” he insists.

“Miguel,” you say his name again but this time not in a whisper. You speak firmly, evenly. You almost lift your hand to place it on his shoulder but you remember not to. “I’m not saying that only because you’re my best friend,” you continue. “I wholeheartedly believe that you weren’t the cause. You’re not responsible for it. There’s something we’ve overlooked, the real cause. I have no doubt one day we’ll discover it, and it’ll show you that you were not at fault.”

“But what if I was?” he repeats. “She could’ve been alive today.”

“I’ve told you I don’t believe you are responsible. You know that, Miguel, but maybe there’s a chance she might have still been alive, if it wasn’t for the true cause of her universe’s collapse.” Next to you, Miguel huffs in frustration, as if he’s upset at your relentless faith that he had nothing to do with it. It frustrates you, the fact that he thinks you’re just trying to sooth his guilt. “Do you think it’s my fault Peter… passed away?”

That makes Miguel turn before he lowers the guitar to his lap. “What - no, of course not, dulzura. It wasn’t your fault,” he says, brows furrowed.

“Are you only saying that to make me feel better? Because we’re best friends?”

“Dulzura… No, of course not. It wasn’t your fault, and I mean that.”

“Then, can you believe that when I tell you that I don’t think you are responsible, I don’t say it only to make you feel better? Can you believe that I say it because I really do believe it?” you ask, holding his gaze with such a serious face that leaves no room for doubt or questioning.

Miguel blinks, keeping his gaze on you for several seconds. His gaze searches your face, so serious. He silently decides he doesn’t like such look on you - he prefers to see you smile, prefers the brightness in your eyes when you’re happy, when you’re in good spirits, but that serious face… Miguel sees you truly believe what you’re saying. You’re not only saying it to make him feel better, to reassure him, and lessen his guilt and pain. At last, he nods slowly.

“I can… a part of me can, but another part of me still feels an incredible guilt that I swear will never fade, no matter how much time passes,” he states softly. “I think about what she could’ve had, where she could’ve been. What she’d be in the future, the amazing things she could’ve done, and experienced.”

You sigh softly and nod. With deceased loved ones, there’s always those questions, especially when they pass away too soon, when there was so much for them to live and experience. You yourself have thought about Peter and all the things he never had the opportunity to experience nor accomplish. Then, there’s also the things that he didn’t even get a chance to wish for, or dream about. By now, he may have accomplished all his previous goals and dreams, and he might have been on to newer ones, but you’ll never know now. Still, you know that for however long he was alive, he lived a good life despite the few tragedies he experienced early on in life. He was a happy man, and he loved and was loved deeply.

“I know it’s a different age with Peter. He had the opportunity to live more but… That always hurt me to think about, too,” you admit. “About all the goals and dreams he had, about the ones he didn’t even get to think of.” You pause, looking at your hand for a few seconds. “A wise man once said, that seven years count the same as seventy, even seven hundred.” Looking up again, you find Miguel’s crimson eyes on the same hand you were just staring at before he lifts his gaze to yours. He raises an eyebrow, wondering, so you continue.

“Someone may live to ninety years and we think, ‘Wow. They’re so lucky.’ We imagine they lived and experienced so much, but that’s not always the case. Someone who only got to live nine or twenty-three years old may have lived more than the ninety year old person has. Just because we’ve had more years to live doesn’t mean we’ve actually lived, not for all of them,” you say softly, looking away. “I didn’t live for many years. I stopped when I lost Peter.”

Hearing you say that breaks Miguel’s heart, brings him so much pain.

“It’s probably… stupid and maybe even cringe,” you say with a smile and shrug, which for some reason pains Miguel even more. “My heart functioned, and I was alive, but I didn’t feel like it. I didn’t actually live over that time. And I didn’t even realize until much later, when I joined the Spider Society, how dull I had truly become. There’s still moments, even now, when I realize that all over again. Like, when I look at sunsets and realize I looked at sunsets during those times but I wasn’t really looking at them… if that makes sense. It was as if I was looking through a screen, someone else’s life. And then, I started to learn to live again. So… I’m sure you know where I’m getting at with this,” you say, looking at him again, at last.

“Gabby may have only lived for nine years but every single one of them counted as living. Her biological father, from what you’ve shared, loved her so much and gave her a safe and comfortable life with so much love, which you continue when you stepped up to be her dad. In her nine years of life… She knew and most importantly, felt, the important things. Unconditional love. Comfort. Happiness. Safety. That’s more than some ninety, or even forty year old have ever experienced despite being alive for several decades… because they haven’t lived. I wish Peter… Gabby, Gabriel - were here now. That they were able to still be here and live longer. That wish will never fade, not truly, I don’t think, but personally?” You offer Miguel a smile. “I’m thankful Peter knew and felt all those things - that he was able to experience them when so many don’t.”

With that, you look away and lean back on the couch, allowing Miguel to either absorb your words, or reject them.

“She was loved,” Miguel states almost a minute later of silence. “She was so loved. By both her biological dad, and then me. I’m grateful for that,” he whispers. “I’m grateful she knew love, kindness. That she knew happiness, comfort, and safety. Like every child should.” Whispering that, Miguel sighs. His head lowers to look at the guitar, his mind flooded with memories of Gabby being happy. He can’t help but feel a new wave of guilt at the fact that on a day that she’d be very happy on, he’s feeling this way.

Like a bolt of lightning, he’s reminded of Gabriel suddenly, of his words, to be exact, from his dream a year ago. He asked Miguel to live for them. Then, there’s also your words from a few weeks ago when you witnessed one of his nightmares for the first time. You said to honor them - to live how they would live if they were here.

Thinking about that, Miguel clears his throat. “You always bake a cake for Peter on his birthday.”

“I do,” you reply, looking over at him with curiosity. You didn’t expect the sudden change of conversation.

“You do it because that’s what you would’ve done if he was still around.”

“Yes.”

Miguel nods, thinking. He’s never bought or baked a cake for Gabriel or his mother. He’s never celebrated their birthdays after they passed away. That includes Gabriella.

He looks down at his gizmo. It’s not too late… Surely a bakery is still open. Maybe they still have cakes.

“Miguel?” you ask softly, noticing him looking at his gizmo.

“I… I think I want to buy her a cake,” he says looking up at you.

“You… do?”

Miguel nods, rapidly realizing he really wants to do this. “Yes. I want to. She deserves it.” He places the guitar on the coffee table and begins to stand up. “I’m going to check the bakeries and see if I can find a cake she’d like. Maybe I’ll have luck.”

Noticing Miguel begin to stand up, you stand up, too, and before you can stop yourself, you make an offer. “I can bake her one, if you want.”

Miguel freezes, looking at you. “You?… Really?” he asks, his entire face softening and lighting up. His tone is gentle, filled with awe and wonder, as if you’ve just made him the greatest offer in history.

With a nod, you smile and reply. “Yes, really. We can bake one together, if you want to help. You know I love baking, so I have almost anything I could need to bake a cake. Just say the word, Migs,” you answer softly.

The nickname, your smile, and offer brings a smile to Miguel’s face. He nods slowly, standing completely now. “Si, por favor [yes, please]. That would mean so much to me… and Gabby.”

You gesture to the kitchen. “C’mon.”

Miguel follows after you, carrying Gabby’s guitar, so precious to him.

You set the oven to preheat, already knowing how to use it since you’ve baked a lot at the penthouse since you’ve lived here. You have Miguel decide the shape, so you find the round cake mold when he politely requests a round one. He retrieves the mixer and the few ingredients he knows will be used, letting you tell him what else is needed so he can help.

As you stated, you have a little of everything so you give him plenty of options for the type of bread, filling, and icing.

Miguel quickly decides the filling should be out of strawberries since Gabby loved them, apparently they were her favorite fruit. For the actual bread, he decides to go with chocolate - it was also a favorite of little Gabby.

Once that’s settled, you begin working with the help of Miguel though your years of baking do not require it. You let him though because you know it’s special to him. It’s for his little girl, after all. So you let him pour the ingredients into the mixing bowl while you work on other things towards the cake.

The more you move through the process together, the more Miguel slowly begins to tell you about Gabby. It’s as if his mind is flooded with random little memories all fighting for his attention. You listen intently to every word, smiling and chuckling with him when he tells you something funny she did or said once.

He’s already shared some of the moments he talks about, but you still listen to him, noticing the glimmer of happiness in his eyes while talking about his Gabby.

As you bake and Miguel shares with you all these moments, you picture them in your head. You see Miguel carrying Gabby on his shoulders, her toothy smile on display. You see Gabby giggling when Miguel accidentally let go of the hair tie and it snapped against his finger while doing her hair. There’s Miguel making Gabby Choco Milk in her favorite cup, and the one time Gabby asked where babies came from out of nowhere, which Miguel didn’t know how to answer in the moment, so he told her he’d find that out and let her know later on.

“What about music?” you ask softly when you pull the pan out of the oven a while later. “What did she like? You’ve mentioned her favorite song before… ‘Luna de Xelajú’, but what else did she like?”

Miguel smiles softly at the fact that you remember her favorite song. “That was her favorite song, yes. She liked other songs, of course. Different genres and artists of all ages. She even liked Joan Sebastian,” Miguel says amused. “She sang some of his songs like she understood matters of the heart already. Then, there were some that always made her dance, like this song called ‘No rompas mi corazón’ - there’s a dance for it. It’s played at parties sometimes,” Miguel shares, not sure if you’re familiar with it.

“It’s something like this,” Lyla says popping out of nowhere, showing you a video of people dancing at a party.

“I know of it,” you say with a smile, not surprised that Lyla has made an appearance. She tends to pop up sometimes out of nowhere when both Miguel and you least expect her. “So Gabby danced to it?”

“Yeah, she’d hear it and it’s like her feet were tingling to move. She’d get so excited every time it came on,” he says with a smile. “She’d dance and look at me and say ‘¡mira, mira, papá! [look, look, papa]’… But there was one artist she absolutely adored, her favorite artist. Selena.”

“Selena?” you ask, surprised. Of course you know of her. “A version of her existed in Gabby’s universe?”

“Yes, but unlike in so many universes where her life is cut short, this version peacefully passed away before Gabby was born out of old age. She had a large and happy family. Gabby told me so,” Miguel says. “She knew a lot about her.”

“What was her favorite song of hers?”

Miguel smiles. “It was ‘Baila Esta Cumbia’ - she’d dance to it, too.”

“Do you want me to… play it?” Lyla asks Miguel while you work on the cake, wondering what his answer will be. It might be too soon for him.

Miguel stays silent for several seconds, thinking. It’s been so long since he’s heard the song, or any of the music that Gabby used to enjoy listening.

“Lyla can always turn it off,” you offer softly as you work, glancing at him for a few seconds before continuing to work on the cake. “If you decide to.”

He hums softly at your words, drumming his fingers against his thigh. At last, he nods to Lyla and a few seconds later, the upbeat song begins to play, filling the kitchen and lifting the mood.

Miguel watches you work on the cake, his finger tapping against his thigh to the beat, thinking about Gabby.

“If only she were here now,” he mumbles softly. He wonders if she’d still like the song, or if she’d have a new favorite song by Selena, if she’d still even be a fan of Selena to begin with. He wonders, just like he wonders about other things, what her music taste would be like now.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter and interlocking his fingers to press against his forehead, looking at the counter surface for a few seconds before closing his eyes and just listening to the song.

He can pretend for a few seconds that she’s here, that she’s singing happily to the song and doing her little dances. He hears the ‘eh, eh, eh,’ part and recalls how she’d sing that part, clapping her small hands to it.

He uncovers his face, lowering his hands to the counter. “You heard that part? The ‘eh, eh, eh?’ She used to clap along with it,” Miguel shares, smiling softly. “She was always so elated when it played. It cheered her up.”

Miguel makes it without crying for the rest of the song, so Lyla deems it safe to play other songs she thinks are appropriate for what could’ve been Gabby’s birthday party. She keeps it light with the music as you work on the cake while Miguel shares other tidbits of Gabby.

After some time, you add the last candle before turning it around so Miguel can see it, his eyes softening immediately at the finished cake.

“What do you think?” you ask him as his eyes take in every detail about it.

He nods, eyebrows knitted gently before he turns his attention to you, smiling tenderly. “It’s… Beautiful, dulzura,” he states softly, his tone full of sincerity. “It’s so Gabby. She would’ve loved it, I know that. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whispers accepting the cake as you hand it to him with a warm smile, happy that Miguel likes the cake.

You find a lighter and reach Miguel’s side, not worried about washing dishes since Miguel got most of them while you were working to help, and even then, neither of you would’ve cared in order to celebrate.

At last, you both look at it, at the completed cake, sitting side by side while music still plays in the background.

Miguel continues to observe it, admiring your work with the details like the little bees and the sprinkle of lilac flowers. He doesn’t fail to notice the color you used to write ‘Happy Birthday, Gabby!!’ with - the color Selena was most known for, that rich purple.

“She…” Miguel starts, his voice soft and quiet, as he thinks about her. About Gabby. “She would’ve loved it.” He whispers, a knot forming in his throat. “Thank you - she would’ve loved it, so much.”

“The bees and her favorite color,” you say. “I thought she might have.”

“She would. She really would,” Miguel replies lifting a hand to his face. He tries to be subtle about it, but from your peripheral vision, you can see the action, the way he wipes at his eye.

You feel tears yourself but for Miguel, you try to stay calm, try to be strong. However, seeing someone you care for so much cry has never made it easy. A few tears pool in your eyes, blurring your vision. Biting your bottom lip because you feel it quivering, you dab at your eyes gently, trying to make the gesture subtle, too.

“Do you want me to…?” you ask raising the lighter.

Miguel turns, sniffling. Noticing the lighter, he nods. “… Please,” he whispers.

Miguel doesn’t need to say anything else. His simple response is all you need, so you lit the candles carefully, watching the cake come to life with their flickering.

You both stare at it, unbeknownst to either of you, imagining the same thing: a Gabriella standing behind the counter, her eyes lit up with happiness, her face illuminated by the gentle glow of the candles. There’s a beautiful, toothy smile on her face as she listens to the people around her sing happy birthday before she gets to make a wish and blow the candles.

You can imagine Miguel taking pictures from the very back to avoid blocking anyone's views due to his height with a happy, warm, and sweet smile on his face to see his little girl turn one year older.

Then, there's Gabby looking at the camera still smiling once she has made her wish, guests cheering and clapping.

And maybe, just to keep up with traditions - Miguel would gently get a little bit of icing on Gabby’s nose with his hand, but remaining alert that no one tries to push his daughter into the cake.

“Están son… las mañanitas [these are… the beloved mornings],” Miguel starts singing, his voice low. “Que cantaba el rey David. Hoy por ser día de tu santo, te las cantamos a ti. Despierta - [That King David sang. Today being your saint’s day (same as birthday), we sing them for you. Wake up -]” Miguel pauses, inhaling sharply. “Mi niña, despierta. Mira que ya amaneció… ya los pajaritos cantan, la luna ya se metió [My little girl, wake up. Look, the sun is up… the little birds sing, the moon is gone]…” he sings softly, trailing off.

The next part of the song carries on, credit to Lyla. She starts playing it from where Miguel left off, Vicente Fernandez's voice filling the kitchen.

You sit by, listening to the music and how Miguel sings a song he's known and sang many times in his childhood for friends and Gabriel, but one he never had the opportunity to sing for Gabby.

Despite wanting to join him, you let Miguel do it on his own, respecting he’d want to do so.

“Con jazmines y flores, este día quiero adornar. Hoy, por ser día de tu santo, te venimos a cantar [With jasmine and flowers, this day I want to decorate. Today, for being your saint’s day, we come to sing],” Miguel finishes at last, his voice just a tad louder than when he first started. He clears his throat, wiping some tears from his eyes.

“Do you want to sing ‘Happy Birthday,’ too?” you ask gently.

“… Yeah, would you…?” he asks taking a moment to swallow. “Join me?”

Of course, you nod. How could you ever decline Miguel when it comes to his daughter? Never.

And so, the two of you sing to Gabby.

”Cha, cha, cha” Miguel adds at the end. He turns to face you, his cheeks dusted with redness. “We always did that in the family at the end. Right before the ‘queremos pastel’ and ‘que lo parta’ - Gabriel used to love that when he was little [we want cake; cut it (referring to the cake)],” Miguel shares a fond smile on his face, his eyes misty with tears before turning to look at the cake again.

By this point, the birthday girl should’ve made her wish and blown the candles. He swallows harshly, realizing. Someone needs to blow the candles. He pulls the cake closer to himself, feeling the heat from the candles. He turns to look at you then, a sudden thought popping into his mind.

“I was going to blow the candles… Would you like to do it with me?” Miguel asks softly, his eyes searching your face for any discomfort. He knows he might be asking for too much already. You’ve done so much by baking the cake, by being so thoughtful with the details that he has no doubt Gabby would’ve loved and gushed about.

Now, he’s asking this extra thing from you, asking you to join him in blowing the birthday candles for someone you didn’t have the opportunity to meet, but the way you talk about Gabby and how you look at her pictures on the wall lets Miguel know you care about her as if you had known her personally.

And not just Gabriella, but Gabriel, too. You’ve told him how you wish they were around, so you could’ve met them and known them, something that always makes his heart swell with tenderness and happiness. How he wishes they were around for that, too, to meet you.

Knowing how you feel about two of the most important people in his life, makes Miguel feel a little less worried. Still, he searches your face to make sure he isn’t placing you in an uncomfortable position. However, when he meets your eyes, he finds no discomfort at all.

You nod gently. “If you wish me to.”

“Yes, please. If you’re okay with it,” he replies, still holding your gaze, giving you an option.

“I’m okay with it... In honor of Gabby,” you respond warmly, images of the little girl still flashing in your mind, thinking how much different this would be if she was here.

Miguel might still have tears in his eyes, but they’d be happy ones. Maybe a little bittersweet knowing that his kid is growing older, but he’d be happy because he gets to celebrate his daughter - because he’s a dad and he has family.

You wonder if some spider members, like the spider gang, would’ve been invited to the party, whether it’d be a small or medium size gathering. You wonder what the decorations might be like. Miguel would’ve gone all out, no corners cut to celebrate, no doubt. He would’ve probably blown balloons and stuck decorations on the walls. He would’ve planned the party for weeks, so it would be perfect for Gabby.

He would’ve ordered a cake with plenty of time to make sure there were no problems. If he was unable to pick it up himself, he would’ve sent his most trusted person to pick it up. Probably not Miles after he share the incident with his dad’s cakes when he became captain though.

Maybe it would’ve been Jess if she was available. Or, maybe even Ben Reilly. Maybe his wife if they were still together.

Or maybe, he would’ve asked you if you were still friends in this alternative scenario.

Either way, the cake would’ve been left to someone trustworthy while Miguel got other things completed. There would’ve probably been party hats passed out, the penthouse filled with people. You wonder what Miguel would have ordered for food, or whether he might have cooked it himself because Gabby requested her favorite foods for her birthday.

You think back to Dia de los Muertos [Day of the Dead] and the foods Miguel offered for Gabby’s ofrenda [altar]. Would she had requested some of those foods? You remember she especially loved Miguel’s breakfasts, specifically pancakes with chocolate chips.

Perhaps Miguel would’ve made that for her this morning. He would’ve woken up early, but not to head to HQ. No, the reason why Miguel would’ve woken up early would’ve been to make Gabriella her favorite breakfast, if it was the same to this day, of course. He would’ve cooked for her and then woken her up at an appropriate time, las mañanitas [the birthday song, Mexico’s version] playing thanks to Lyla.

You imagine her waking up, the sleepiness wearing off her face as she realizes it’s her birthday. Perhaps Miguel met her at her bed, giving her a tight bear hug, wondering how it’s possible that his daughter has turned a year older, wondering where time is going, hoping that she doesn’t grow up too soon.

He may have pushed his thoughts away, trying to avoid the bittersweet feelings and focusing on making sure that Gabby’s birthday is perfect, so he’d tell her to come to the kitchen only to surprise her with favorite breakfast, hinting at a special day ahead with the birthday party scheduled for the afternoon. And oh, you know he would’ve left HQ early. Nothing, no mission or anomaly, would’ve prevented him from making it to his daughter’s party.

You sigh softly at the thoughts, the wishes for Miguel and Gabby. How you wish they could’ve had today.

Maybe in another universe, still undiscovered by the Spider Society, a Miguel had the privilege of doing that with another version of Gabby today.

“One… Two…” Miguel counts softly, thinking of what could’ve been today - of all the ways he would’ve made sure today was perfect for his daughter. If only they could’ve had today. If only they could’ve had a full lifetime.

“Three,” you both whisper before leaning forward and blowing the candles.

You both watch as the small trails of smoke rise above the cake, leaning back once more.

“Feliz Cumpleaños, mija [Happy Birthday, my daughter],” Miguel whispers tenderly. “I hope wherever you are… That you’re celebrating with Miguel and your uncle Gabriel. Maybe with your grandmother Conchata, too, if she’s available. Te quiero, y te sigo extrañando. Como siempre [I love you, and I keep missing you. Like always].”

“Happy Birthday, Gabby…” you say gently after gulping a small knot in your throat due to Miguel’s words. “I hope you’re having a lovely day with Gabriel and your other dad. I hope there’s lots of pan dulce [Mexican sweet bread], especially pink conchas [seashell shaped pan dulce], and your favorite Mexican candy.”

Miguel chuckles, ducking his head to wipe the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Pink conchas and Mexican candy. That would make her day,” he says straightening up, smiling despite the tears. He dries them again, sighing. He turns to look at you, filled with ternura [tenderness]. “Thank you for your sweet words, for agreeing to blow the candles with me, for the cake…” He pauses. “Thank you for everything. I hope you know how much it means to me, how much I appreciate it - thank you, dulzura,” he whispers gently, sincerely.

You smile at him, nodding. “Always, Miguel,” you whisper.

He smiles softly before it fades, his expression turning to an apologetic one. “The last few days…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reply.

“No, I do,” he states firmly, shifting closer. He turns his body to face you fully, his legs touching your leg closest to him. “I… want to say I’m sorry. I haven’t been… It’s been a few hard days knowing her birthday was coming up, and I… It still hurts,” he says. “It still hurts and instead of talking about it with you, I just - partially shut down, like I used to before… You,” Miguel confesses. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable the last few days, making it seem like I didn’t want to be around you. I wanted to but I didn’t want to burden you with all of this.” He sighs. “I didn’t want to cast my rain on you.”

“Cast your rain on me?” you question, tilting your head to the side. “You know that’s… what friends are for.” You give him a reassuring smile. “I understand though… About it hurting and shutting down. It’s okay,” you reassure Miguel. “And you don’t need to apologize. I was worried but… I understand.”

“I do need to apologize,” Miguel insists. “If it was you, I would’ve…” Miguel trails off, scratching his neck. “I would’ve felt that you were pushing me away without a reason. I never want to make you feel like that,” he shares unable to look you in the eyes, so he focuses on the cake again while he speaks. He reads Gabby’s name on it before turning back to you. “I’m sorry, dulzura. I’m still learning.”

“It’s alright, Miguel,” you tell him again. “Should we… cut the cake?”

“You refuse to accept my apology,” he says, brows furrowed.

“Is that necessary?”

“It was a jerk move.”

“I don’t see it that way, but if it makes you feel better, apology accepted,” you reply, flashing him a small smile. “I appreciate your apology, and your willingness to share what’s been going on.”

Miguel nods at that, relieved that you’ve accepted his apology for the way he’s been acting recently.

You nod back, still smiling.“Cake time?”

“Cake time,” Miguel answers with a small smile.

You both turn your attention to the cake again just in time to see two candles sparkling and then flickering back to full life for a few seconds before they go out again, on their own.

With knitted eyebrows, you turn to look at each other, equally surprised by the short moment before turning your attention back to the cake.

As you remain sitting, watching the cake, the mood changes to a significantly lighter one, as if something physically tugged a heavy cloak from your shoulders to relieve them.

For a few seconds, neither of you say anything, basking in the new and light atmosphere that descends on the two of you like falling leaves in autumn.

“I’ll get the knife and plates,” you say breaking the silence after a few seconds.

“I’ll get us drinks and utensils,” Miguel replies before you both gather everything on the counter and prepare to cut the cake.

You hand him the knife so he can do the honors but at the last second he pulls back. “Wait,” he says. “Before I cut it - Lyla?”

“Yes, jefe [boss]?” Lyla says appearing in front of you.

“Can you… Can you take a photo of it?” Miguel asks her.

With a little grin, Lyla nods. “I got you covered. I’ve already taken a few…” she admits. “But I’ll take one more.” With that, she takes one more photo, which she displays for you to see. “What do we think? You outdid yourself, D, by the way.”

“D?” Miguel and you say at the same time.

Lyla turns and smirks. “Well, Miguel gave you ‘Dulzura,' so I figured I could call you D.”

“Oh,” you say, not sure if you’re up for that.

“I don’t think that’s…” Miguel trails off, not liking it himself, but at least Lyla isn’t trying to call you dulzura either. For some reason the idea of someone else calling you that, even if it’s his own AI assistant, rubs him the wrong way, but he doesn’t say that. “I think… Maybe consider something else.“

“Fine. I see neither of you are happy with it. You outdid yourself, Y/N. There. Better?” Lyla says rolling her eyes. “The longer you two spend time together, the more you team up against me. It’s so unfair.”

Miguel and you chuckle.

“And now they’re laughing at me. Humans,” Lyla mumbles under her breath. “Are you cutting the cake or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re cutting the cake,” Miguel says. “Thank you for taking the photo, L.”

“L?” Lyla repeats, offended.

“It’s for Lyla,” you say with a smile, making Miguel smirk softly since you’re following along with his teasing.

“You’re not calling me ‘L’ - I reject that,” Lyla replies, crossing her arms over chest.

“We’ll think of another nickname then,” Miguel replies, positioning the knife to cut the cake at last.

“Finally!” Lyla says. “Queremos pastel [we want cake]!”

“Queremos pastel [we want cake],” Miguel repeats, lowering the knife, imagining for a second that Gabby is the one cutting it, not him. He imagines himself taking photos from the back to capture the moment. “Queremos pastel, pastel, pastel [we want cake, cake, cake].”

You smile, listening to Miguel say ‘we want cake’ as he finally slices it. Lyla and you clap softly, which warms Miguel’s heart.

“Happy Birthday, Gabby!” Lyla says, smiling fondly at the cake. “I wish I could eat cake,” she adds frowning.

“You have no idea what you’re missing out on,” Miguel says with a smile as he cuts two slices, one for each of you.

“You don’t have to rub it in, Miguel,” she replies with a huff as she watches Miguel fix you a plate first, carefully placing it in front of you before fixing his own.

You wait until Miguel has his plate ready and then, you both try the cake at the same time.

You both sigh in content as the flavors melt in your mouth, pleased with it. Of course, there was no doubt in your minds that it was going to be good, especially not in Miguel’s mind. He loves your baking and cooking, but especially your baking since it satisfies his sweet tooth. So he had no doubt your baking was going to be excellent as always.

You both go for a second slice, which you take to the living room for more comfort after storing the remainder of the cake away. Miguel brings Gabby’s guitar along, placing it next to him on the floor. You’ve returned to the same spots from earlier, sitting side by side on the ground.

Lyla disappeared at some point while Miguel served the second slices, unusually quiet as she glanced between you before flickering away, so it’s just the two of you and light music for now as you eat your extra slices of cake.

Finishing with his, Miguel clears his throat and carefully dabs his mouth clean with a napkin. He rests his back on the couch, smiling gently as he watches you bring the fork to your mouth to eat.

“As always, your baking was incredible,” he compliments you. “Thank you for baking it. I believe Gabby would’ve loved it.”

“I’m happy and flattered to hear that,” you reply with a smile.

“She would be - probably giving you a lot of hugs right now.”

That makes you smile brighter, a warm feeling in your chest grows at the simple idea of Gabby loving her birthday cake so much that she’d give you a hug, or multiple.

“I would’ve accepted every single one of them,” you answer, still smiling.

“And returned them,” Miguel adds, knowing you so well. “You would’ve returned every single hug Gabby gave you and then add one or two more.”

“You know me too well,” you say chuckling before you take a sip from your glass. “I would’ve.”

Miguel picks up the guitar, a small smile on his face still. He brushes his fingers against the strings, thinking.

“The last few days were hard, knowing that her birthday was approaching. It’s hard, still,” he says, looking at it. “I didn’t expect for it to hurt less so soon, of course, but it always hurts to think she didn’t turn a year older, even if that would’ve been bittersweet.”

“In a way, I think I know what that would’ve felt like,” Miguel continues, his lips almost pouting. “I watched Gabriel grow older before my own eyes and it always made me feel bittersweet, to see my little brother grow older. I imagine I would’ve felt something similar with Gabby… but it’s not only that that hurts. It hurts that I can’t visit her somewhere. There’s nowhere for me to go. To visit her. I can go and visit my mom and Gabriel, but Gabriella… She’s gone. Really gone. There’s no resting place for her - because there’s no… her,” Miguel whispers, looking at the guitar in his hands.

To think he was the last one to hold her, his arms were the last thing she felt. “I was the last one to hold her. The last thing she felt… were my arms around her. That’s brought me some… comfort over time. She didn’t suffer in her last moments, not physically. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she had.” Miguel’s eyes shut tight, his head lowering. He would’ve hated himself so much more than he does already for not stopping what happened.

After several seconds of silence, he opens his eyes. “But as I was saying… there’s nowhere to see her. Nowhere to offer her flowers. I would visit her every day if there was. I would change her flowers every few days. I would’ve visited today and taken some things for her but there’s nowhere to go.”

You listen intently to Miguel, nodding as he talks. The very same thought has come to your mind before, about how Gabby doesn’t have a resting place, somewhere for Miguel to visit her. You remember thinking about it a while back, imagining how much harder it would be for someone like Miguel to heal from his loss when there’s no resting place for Gabby because her universe collapsed.

“It’s something I think about often, but I can’t do anything about it,” Miguel says playing a few strings.

You hum softly, staying quiet for a few moments and simply watching Miguel as his fingers move over the strings, not playing. “I can imagine, Miguel,” you reply gently after some seconds.

You look over to the wall, your gaze finding the photographs you helped Miguel hang not too long ago. It’s become a special spot for him in the penthouse, a detail that’s given the place a much warmer vibe along with the other changes Miguel has made.

Your eyes move to the console table attached to the same wall, decorated with a simply abstract figure. It’s a spot neither of you have thought about spicing up with Miguel trying to redecorate.

“I know you said there’s nowhere to go… But what if…” you trail off, the idea still forming in your head.

“What if…?” Miguel repeats, wondering what you’re thinking about. He’s both curious and excited to hear whatever is on your mind, something that might give him some comfort regarding the situation.

“What if you give her a place here?” you continue, nodding to the console table. “Her special place for you to visit her per say, close to you, here in your home.”

His eyes light up at the idea.

“Never mind, that’s probably… not a good idea,” you say, doubting yourself, but when you turn to look at Miguel, he’s shaking his head.

“I like it. I like it a lot. In fact… I love it,” he says softly with a little smile. “I spend a lot of time here at the living room, so it’d be nice to set it here. And,” he pauses, standing up and looking around. “This place receives a lot of natural light. She loved the sunshine. Sometimes I think she would’ve loved the living room especially for that reason, the sunshine coming through the windows while she colored on the coffee table,” Miguel continues, a hint of excitement in his voice, as his mind works on how he wants it to look - to honor his little girl, to have a place to visit her in a way as you said. He walks over to you and hands you the guitar. “Hold this, please, while I go get something. I’ll be right back.”

He exits the living room before you can say anything, heading towards the office on the first floor, so you hold the guitar with care knowing how special it is.

This is the first time you’ve held it, so you inspect it a little closer to look at the stickers Gabby put on it. There’s three flowers on it, a DNA strand, and a science symbol which doesn’t surprise you. Miguel has always stated how much Gabby loved science, how bright she was. You smile tenderly at it, allowing yourself to realize it was once held by her, a thought that makes you tear up a little. You think about how this guitar was once held by that little girl with the toothy smile who loved pink conchas, chocolate chip pancakes, arroz con leche [Mexican rice pudding], and Choco Milk. The little girl whose birthday is today, who loved science and candy so much her dad couldn’t say no to her, and who loved bees and the color lilac. The one that played guitar and fútbol [I don’t want to call it soccer], who sometimes fell asleep on the way home after a victorious game.

You turn the guitar over, reading the name on the back.

“Gabriella O’Hara,” you whisper, your fingertips barely touching it. “Gabby.” You sniffle quietly and wipe tears from your eyes, not wanting Miguel to see you crying but then, a tissue comes into your vision.

Startled, you look up and find Miguel, his own eyes teary due to seeing and hearing you cry. Despite his own sadness - his grief - he still finds it in himself to offer you a reassuring, little smile before he carefully dries your tears with the tissue.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” Miguel whispers back. “Seeing how much you care about Gabby, despite not having the opportunity to meet her, is so touching to me. You have no idea.” He clears his throat and steps back once he’s done. “It means so much to me that you care about her.”

You sniffle again, trying to recover. “I do. If I could do something to bring her back…”

Miguel’s face softens even more.

“I’d give my life so she was here with you,” you say, looking down at the guitar. “So you’d be happy.”

“I would still be hurting,” Miguel says quietly, which makes you look up, frowning.

“Why?” you ask softly, so honestly it leaves Miguel in disbelief for a few seconds.

“Why? You ask why?” he says, his brows raising. “I’d be missing and grieving you, dulzura. That’s why.” He sits near you with a sigh. “So… don’t ever sacrifice yourself,” Miguel says quietly, firmly. “Please.” Just the idea of something happening to you… It leaves more than a bitter taste in Miguel’s mouth. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you were hurt, if something else happened. He doesn’t want to think about it.

You nod slowly, his words sinking in. Without saying it directly, Miguel has stated that he cares about you. It brings a little smile to your face as you hand him the guitar, thinking he’d appreciate holding it again. Your fingers brush his as the guitar is exchanged but neither of you say anything about it.

“But I’m touched you care so much about Gabby - about me - that you’d try to bring her back if there was a way, without you giving your life.” Miguel adds. “To make me not happy, but happi-er because despite everything… I am happy these days, you know.” He turns to look at you, nudging his chin at you.

You smile, guessing he’s talking about you, so you nudge your chin back at him because you’re happier these days thanks to him, too.

He flashes you a small grin, for a second having the urge to gently take your chin between his thumb and finger, an urge that disperses quickly when you change the topic for his and your sake.

“You went to get something. What was it?” you ask.

“Right,” Miguel says, remembering. He reaches from his other side and retrieves a picture frame and a candle. “I want to add another photo of Gabby, a larger one to place on the console table. The candle… I want to light one for her. In Mexico, people sometimes have small altars for their loved ones at home throughout the year, you reminded me of that when you mentioned the console table. Tomorrow, I’ll go and buy her flowers from the flower market. I already have a vase that I think will be perfect. It used to be in my mom’s apartment when she lived in the building.”

“That sounds lovely,” you reply with a smile. “It’s going to look so beautiful. What picture are you thinking of using for the altar?”

Miguel sighs. “Well… All the pictures I have are already on the wall.”

You both turn your gazes to the photographs, your eyes finding Gabby’s few remaining photos.

“So, it’ll have to be one of them,” Miguel continues, to this day still upset that there’s not more photos of Gabby.

You nod, wishing there were more photos and videos of Gabby at least.

Seeing a sudden pop of white to your side, you turn and find Lyla. She gives you a look, as if asking you to wish her good luck before she floats farther away so Miguel can see her, too. The sight of Lyla and her expression, at this moment, has your heart racing suddenly.

“Hey… Miguel?” Lyla starts too quietly, too serious.

“Lyla,” Miguel replies his face changing to confusion, then to one of seriousness as his ears identify the different tone in her voice.

“I have something to tell you… It’s a good thing,” she continues looking at him and then at you.

“What is it?” Miguel asks.

“So… A year ago when you were injured in another universe, you know with the Goblin, the system shut down. It was rebooted by Margo and all was great, but some files were temporarily lost due to the sudden shut down. Others became corrupted. I started working on retrieving those files, slowly but surely. There was no rush as those files weren’t top priority, you know, essential to us for our day to day work at HQ. To be honest, I couldn’t even tell you what these files were, since they had no official name when I found them,” Lyla explains.

“Files… What are you getting at?” Miguel asks.

“I’ve retrieved them, uncovered what they were. Including the corrupted files. On my little free time, I’ve been restoring the files and well… It turns out that I had forgotten about some of these files due to previous system reboots. Since they were somehow omitted from my system due to previous shut downs, I didn’t even know they existed anymore, especially being lost and corrupted files within the system.”

“What are they? Why is it important to tell us this now?” Miguel asks, holding on to the guitar. His heart begins to race a little, even though he tells himself to not be stupid - to not have hope there’s more.

“Both the lost and corrupted files have turned out to be…” Lyla trails off, looking between Miguel and you. “Photos and videos of Gabby and you. New ones, not the ones you have already.”

Miguel inhales sharply, his heart racing as Lyla’s words sink in. “It’s not possible,” he says without thinking.

“It is, Miguel,” she replies offering a genuine look. “And I swear I didn’t hide them this time. They were lost and even I had no idea they were just sitting there in the system. I came across the folder sometime over the summer after you were injured and decided to work on them. It wasn’t until October or so that one of the files turned out to be a photo of her. I wanted to tell you right away, but then, I figured that since I didn’t even know about this one photo being lost, maybe a few more files would turn out to be photos of her, too. I was hoping to have it done by Father’s Day, but well, things happen at HQ…” Lyla says apologetically. “I finished today. My work proved to be successful because almost every file was of Gabby. I finished recovering the last one today and I’m happy to tell you that there’s over twenty photos on top of some videos. Do you wish to see them?”

“Yes,” Miguel breathes out. “Yes. Please show them to me.” He turns to look at you, his eyes filled with so many emotions - surprise, disbelief, happiness, and excitement.

“I’ll go - I’m going to wait upstairs,” you say, already making the move to stand up so Miguel will have privacy to look at the photos.

“You don’t have to,” Miguel says, suddenly placing a hand on your shoulder for a few seconds, making you go still at the unexpected touch. “Stay, please.”

You stare at each other as Miguel slowly retrieves his hand. He didn’t plan nor anticipated it. It was a genuine reaction, to keep you here, with him.

“Will you?” he asks.

Nodding, you settle back down. “Yes. If you want to, I will.”

“Thank you,” he replies with a small nod. He turns to Lyla, readjusting his position. “Lyla…”

“Yes, boss?” she replies, knowing.

“Go ahead,” Miguel states, his heart racing. His fingers fiddle with the guitar’s strings, feeling nervous. As Lyla prepares, the idea sinks further. There’s more photos and videos of Gabby. All this time, there’s been more memories sitting in the system, lost but finally recovered.

“Here are the photos,” Lyla says gently as she makes a holographic screen accessible. She turns to you, giving you a small smile and a subtle thumbs up. You suppose she was thinking back to the time when she hid photos of Gabby and his wife, and how Miguel reacted then by shutting her down, but his reaction today is far different. The Miguel from then, you suspect, had done little healing. You turn to the screen after acknowledging her with a nod and a small smile, giving your full attention to Gabby.

Three seconds later, there she is. Beside you, Miguel sighs the way a parent does when looking at old photographs of their children, with nostalgia.

“Gabby,” he whispers, his gaze soft as he takes in the photo of her sitting on a living room floor, coloring books and pencils scattered over a coffee table. Her face is one of concentration as she colors, dressed in jeans and a pink shirt with her hair down.

Photo after photo, Miguel and you observe each one, drinking in the details the way you drink café de olla [coffee]. Slowly, with delicacy and love. While Miguel is thrown right back into his memories, you get more glimpses of his life with her, of that short time. You finally see a little bit more of that universe, leaving an incredible pain in you knowing these photographs and Gabby’s guitar, is basically the only evidence left that that universe once existed to begin with.

Despite that feeling, you smile as the photos progress, seeing Miguel with such a happy smile with his daughter. Your heart beats with tenderness seeing how happy they looked, sharing father and daughter moments, such as them playing dolls on her bedroom floor, a flower sticker on Miguel’s hair.

“I didn’t notice it until I was going to shower,” Miguel says with an amused smile. “She noticed it for sure but she didn’t tell me.”

You laugh softly. “She was probably wondering how long it’ll take before you realized.”

“Most likely,” Miguel agrees, shaking his head in amusement before you both turn back to look at the next photo.

Everything is fine and lighthearted inside you as more photos are displayed but your throat suddenly feels impossibly restricted when the photo changes to one of a sleeping Miguel and Gabby on her bed. An open book, abandoned, can be seen on the side. It’s clearly night time, a single lit lamp in what used to be the little girl’s bedroom while Gabby and Miguel sleep, the latter having fallen asleep at some point while reading to his daughter. Your vision becomes blurry when you spot their same sleepy faces, their mouths open just slightly, identically like father and daughter. Silently, the tears roll down your face without warning.

You don’t dare turn to look at Miguel, or even make a subtle move to wipe your tears away because you don’t wish for him to see you crying. You don’t want your tears to make him tear up, too. Inhaling gently, you attempt to swallow the painful knot in your throat and rein in your emotions, but your eyes remain fixed on the photo, on sleeping Miguel and Gabby - no worries in their minds as they peacefully sleep.

For Gabby, she’s in the comfort of her father’s arms - safe and sound, protected. For Miguel, you imagine in those moments that the multiverse didn’t exist. It was a far away concept in those moments, so far he slipped into his sleep with ease and without a fight - a high contrast to what awaited him in the future. Sleepless and long nights in his dark and empty lab due to nightmares, alone with the exception of Lyla at times. The children’s books he read to Gabby replaced with data reports pertaining to the multiverse once more by a cruel and unexpected twist of misfortune, something Miguel has been no stranger to.

Still staring at the photo, you once again wonder how different Miguel’s life would have been had Gabby’s universe not collapsed. You wonder if he’d still live there in that universe, or whether he would’ve told Gabby and his wife about his universe, have them move to Nueva York, here to his penthouse.

You wonder, if perhaps, Miguel and his wife would’ve divorced and it would’ve been Gabby and Miguel alone then.

You wonder if her room would’ve been Gabriel’s, or if Miguel would’ve done changes to the penthouse, like making the upstairs office an extra bedroom. Perhaps, on this coffee table in front of you, Gabby’s coloring books or hair ties, or something that belonged to her, could be found.

“I used to read to her every night,” Miguel says, bringing his knees close to him, resting his arms on them. “I’m so glad there’s a memory of it. That I can see her sleepy face again physically, not just in my head.” He wipes his eye using the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He sniffles quietly before he reaches with his hand, zooming in on her specifically. He traces his daughter’s face as if he were actually tracing it physically, with such tenderness and so much love. “Su carita [her little face],” he whispers. “I’d forget everything about the Spider Society at the sight of that little face. I wasn’t Spider-Man. I was just ‘papá’ or ‘daddy’ - and my biggest worry was a scraped knee during practices [papa].”

He turns to face you slowly, finally realizing you’ve been so quiet, so still. His gaze softens when you turn away as an attempt to keep him from seeing your face, the tears staining your cheeks.

“Dulzura?”

“Yeah?” you reply, clearing your throat, trying to make it seem like you’re fine.

“You don’t have to hide your tears,” Miguel says gently. “Not from me.”

With that, you turn to face him. You offer him a small smile. “I’m sorry… This photo…” you trail off, looking away to dry your damp cheeks. “You just - Your sleeping faces are the same,” you continue, chuckling softly instead of crying, even though your eyes are still tearing up. “Even the way your mouths are open just slightly.” You sniffle. “It’s so… sweet, Miguel.”

You shakily huff, drying your face with the back of your hand. You wish you could blame your emotions on something else, like your period, but it’s not even time for that yet. Your emotions are running uncontrollably purely because of Miguel and his daughter. It’s due to the tenderness of this photo and every single moment they were able to share, but knowing it wasn’t, isn’t, and never will be enough for Miguel or Gabby.

And God, you wish on everything that Gabby was here right now. You wish there was a way that time could go back, that you had the answers to the real cause for the collapse of universes. And then, you’d go back and prevent it from happening, along with every other universe that’s been lost.

“You think so?” Miguel asks, his eyes twinkling with delight hearing you say that Gabby and he share the same sleeping faces.

“Absolutely,” you reply. “It’s clear as day.”

Miguel sighs, dropping his arm. He wraps his arms around his legs and stares at the photo some more. “Thank you for saying that,” he whispers. “That makes me feel… happy. Happier.”

“Always,” you whisper back, able to look at the photo again. “This one… It would be sweet to have in your room.”

Miguel hums. “My nightstand.”

“Close to you,” you reply, nodding.

You fall into a comfortable silence, despite the emotions, and continue to observe the photo for a few more minutes before Miguel asks Lyla to display the rest. Each one is as sweet and tender as the last one, but thankfully you don’t cry anymore, or at least not as much.

“There are a few videos,” Lyla says turning to look at Miguel, talking for the first time since she shared the fact that these files exist. She’s been silently watching the two of you, glad that Miguel has you by his side while he goes through the photos - relieved that he isn’t alone today, and tomorrow, and the date afterwards. He has someone. You. “Do you wish to watch them?”

“Yes, please,” Miguel answers turning to look at Lyla before his eyes turn back to the screen.

As time goes on, Miguel and you watch the videos, all of which are of just him and Gabby. And thankfully, they’re all long videos. You watch Gabriella play fútbol in the backyard with Miguel. There’s the one Christmas they spent together, with Gabby excitedly showing Miguel new toys.

“Christmas,” Miguel says softly. “She was so excited. I did the Santa’s snow boots footprints, she was squealing with happiness when she woke up and saw them,” he shares.

You watch the video, thinking. Miguel was that kind of father, and it makes so much sense.

At last, Lyla turns to face the two of you. “This is the last one,” Lyla says softly as the screen changes before it starts.

Miguel and you both watch as the video clip begins playing, starting with Gabby on display holding her guitar and playing it. Miguel sits on a chair watching with an expression that leaves no room for question how proud he felt in that moment. Like in every video and photo, Miguel’s eyes have a special spark, one you recognize in Peter B. and MJ, Jess and her husband, and Mr. and Mrs. Morales. It’s the spark a loving, caring parent has in their eyes when looking at or talking about their child. Miguel had it around Gabby, and now it’s only visible when he talks about her, or when he looks at her photos.

A warm, gentle, and beautiful smile grazes his face as he watches and listens to Gabby expertly play the guitar at such age, a look of concentration on her sweet face. She plays a melody you don’t recognize but one she seems to know by heart, no mistakes made. She ends her playing gently, the sound pleasant to the ears before she eagerly and expectantly looks at her father, a smile that reminds you of Miguel’s, too, on her face.

“That was amazing, mija [my daughter]!” Miguel says suddenly with such energy you swear you’ve never seen in him before. “You get better and better the more you practice, eh? My little musician!”

You smile, seeing Gabby’s smile widen before she runs to her father, throwing her arms around his neck. The sight of Miguel instantly wrapping his arms around his daughter makes your heart weak. There has never been any doubt in your mind that Miguel loved, still loves, Gabby, but this interaction hits you deeply. You see the way his eyes close in content, his smile unfaltering as he hugs his daughter tightly. He’s so proud of her. He’s so loving, tender, sweet.

There’s also no doubt in your mind. Being a father suits him so much even if he once thought he wasn’t meant to. Quite the contrary, Miguel was meant to be a father.

“Now it’s your turn, daddy! You play and sing!” Gabby says excitedly, pulling back to offer Miguel the guitar.

Miguel shakes his head gently. “I think you should keep playing, mija [my daughter].”

“Please? Pretty please, daddy?” Gabby insists, puppy eyes on full display. “Sing my favorite song, please.”

And just like Miguel has told you before, he was never able to say no to Gabby when it came to healthy, harmless requests like these. He accepts the guitar.

“Just one song, and then you play again. ¿Entiendes, chiquilla [do you understand, little girl]?”

“Okay, okay! Ya se [I know], but please! I like to hear you sing, daddy,” Gabby says taking a seat in front of Miguel on the floor, watching him like he’s the center of her universe.

“Okay, okay. Ay vamos [we’re going, starting]…” Miguel says with a little sigh. “How does it start?”

“Dad!” Gabby whines with a little huff. “You know how it starts!”

“I forgot. What are the first notes, again?” Miguel asks with a sweet, playful smile that stays on his face as Gabby tells him. “Ah, okay. So… Something like this,” he says playing a few notes that earns him eager nods from Gabby. “Okay, I think I got it, mija [my daughter].” He begins to play the guitar again, the same notes Gabby was playing earlier but continuing on.

And for the first time since you’ve known Miguel, you hear him truly sing.

“Luna gardenia de plata que en mi serenata, te vuelves canción. Tú que me viste cantando, me ves hoy llorando, mi desilusión. Calles bañadas de luna que fueron la cuna de mi juventud. Vengo a cantarle a mi amada, la luna plateada de mi Xelajú…” Miguel sings with ease, his brows furrowing slightly, gazing at his daughter who smiles tenderly at her father. “En mis noches de pena, por una morena de dulce mirar,” Miguel continues singing, smiling at Gabby, nodding at her. He earns himself a sweet, happy, and toothy smile along with an applause from Gabby’s hands, and it’s so heartwarming, so sweet Miguel can’t help himself from stopping midway when he sees Gabby rise and head straight for him.

He welcomes her in his arms, laughing softly as he places the guitar down to fully embrace her like it’s the last time he’ll ever be able to. The thought breaks you. He never imagined he’d lose her - not while embracing her like that nor when he read bedtime stories to her.

“Again, daddy! This time all the song, please,” Gabby says hugging Miguel, her father.

“Okay, okay, mija [my daughter], but first we need to have dinner. C’mon, the caldo [broth] should be ready now,” Miguel says carrying her to what you assume is the kitchen. “Le agregue muchas papitas pa’ que comas. Tienes que comer pa’ que estés fuerte y sana. ¿Recuerdas? [I added a lot of potatoes so you’ll eat. You must eat so you’ll be strong and healthy. Remember?]”

“¡Y pollito [and chicken]!” Gabby says making Miguel chuckle.

“Si y mucho pollito. También zanahorias [yes and chicken. Carrots, too].”

“Eugh, no carrots, please.”

The last thing heard is Miguel’s laughter as they both disappear into the kitchen, the screen returning to the all familiar marigold color used for all screens in the Spider Society.

You chuckle softly as you remember something. “So she wasn’t fond of carrots either.”

Turning to look at you, Miguel frowns softly yet he’s amused. He remembers that evening so vividly now, how it felt to carry his daughter to the kitchen so they could check on the food. “Either?”

“Remember when you were injured last year?” you ask, which instantly reminds Miguel.

“Dios [God], that carrot was disgusting,” he says frowning deeply. “I don’t know how we didn’t throw up right there.”

Covering your mouth, you laugh, recalling the face he made that day when he tried it. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re laughing,” Miguel says raising an eyebrow, feigning disappointment and offense. “Can’t believe you made me try it.”

“I didn’t think it was actually bad,” you reply. “In my defense, I thought since it’s this dimension, and all the great resources at HQ, that the infirmary food would be top notch.”

“Mala [Meanie, feminine version in Spanish],” Miguel replies, amusement dancing in his eyes. “At least you tried it, too. So we’re even.”

“Never again.” You chuckle again. “If I ever end up there, please spare me from the carrots.”

Miguel’s amusement falters a bit. “I hope you’re never there. Not even for a minor cut, but I promise I’ll spare you from the horrible food,” he says earnestly, leaving no doubt in your mind that you’ll never taste that food. Again. “I swear.”

“Thank you,” you reply softly with a smile.

“Always. I’ll protect your food palate,” he says, amused yet again.

You both smile at each other, staying quiet for a few seconds before you speak again. “That was… Very beautiful, Miguel,” you start quietly. “Your voice. You singing to Gabby her favorite song. You made her happy, so happy.”

He nods, his smile shifting to a much tender one. “I sang it to her every time she wanted me to. It was a pure request, an easy way to make her happy. I always wanted her to be so,” Miguel shares. “And if I could make her happy in such an easy way, I would. It was also bonding for us. I never wanted to make her feel like I didn’t want to spend time with her, like she was being rejected. I wanted her to feel loved,” he adds softly. “For her to know she was deeply loved and cared for. That she didn’t need to hide anything. I wanted her to have what I…” Miguel pauses, swallowing. “What I didn’t have at her age. That unconditional love, protection, and tenderness from a parent. Constant. Not in pauses, making her wonder if she had done something wrong.”

Nodding, you sigh softly. You know about Miguel’s childhood; about the situation with his mother Conchata and his stepfather, on top of the situation with his biological father. You try not to think about it often because each time you do, anger and sadness flares up inside you for him. You hate that Miguel experienced such rejection and negligence in his early life, how it has affected him throughout the years.

You’re glad, at least, that by the end of Conchata’s life, Miguel had somewhat of a stable relationship with her, something you’ve wondered about sometimes at random times. You wonder, if time had allowed, whether Miguel and her could’ve worked on their relationship, if by now they’d have a better one, but of course, it’s fruitless to think of such moments. Conchata has been gone for several years.

Another thing you wonder is if she saw the way Miguel stepped up to the role of father and how wonderful, tender, sweet, and loving he was to Gabby from wherever she is. You wonder if she felt shame, knowing her son tried to be everything she hardly was for Gabby.

“It’s evident you did just that,” you say at last, concentrating on the now. “She was so happy, Miguel. Her laughter, her smiles - all signs of a happy, safe, and loved child.”

Miguel hums, his gaze softening at your words. “Thank you,” he whispers. “I tried my best to be a good father.” He turns his gaze towards the guitar, the lovely and bittersweet song stuck in his head. He picks it up and holds it, remembering how many times he played the song for her. His fingers glide over the stickers, thinking how it’s still her birthday.

There’s a chance her favorite song would’ve changed by now. Maybe she wouldn’t be interested in playing the guitar anymore but rather another instrument. There’s a lot of things that could’ve changed by now, truly. Maybe Gabby would’ve stopped playing fútbol. Maybe she would’ve stopped loving science.

He’ll never know now.

But maybe there’s a chance, that despite the years… “Luna de Xelajú” would still hold a special place in her tender heart. Maybe she’d appreciate her father remembering the times she asked him to play it for her, to sing her the song while gazing at her, letting her know that she was his morena de dulce mirar [his brunette, or of dark complexion, girl with a sweet gaze]. Just maybe, she’d let her old man play and sing it for her on her birthday even if she no longer begged him to sing it by wrapping her short arms around his neck, giggling and calling him daddy.

Just maybe.

Miguel clears his throat and positions his fingers. How does it start?

“You know how it starts!”

He hears Gabby’s voice in his head, even the little huff. Right. Like this. His fingers move, playing the notes for the first time since he lost his daughter. For a moment, he thinks he messed up, but no, his memory doesn’t betray him, and so his fingers move, as if they had a mind of their own.

You watch as he begins to play, familiar to your ears now thanks to the video. Your eyes remain on him, not missing even a second of this. For a moment, you wonder if you’re imagining it, but no, Miguel really is playing the guitar and playing Gabby’s song, at least the beginning of it.

You suddenly realize what he’s trying to do, just as Lyla does, too because a second later, Lyla displays a photo of Gabby, one of the new ones, for Miguel.

Miguel is going to play and sing the song for her, on her birthday.

Holding your breath, you watch Miguel lift his gaze to the screen, still playing the guitar before he begins.

“Luna gardenia de plata, que en mi serenata te vuelves canción. Tú que me viste cantando, me ves hoy llorando mi desilusión,” Miguel sings softly, staring at his daughter’s photo, his expression gentle yet with a trace of mourning and grief. “Luna de Xelajú, que supiste alumbrar, en mis noches de pena por una morena de dulce mirar,” he continues, his gaze softening and his mouth pouting.

You remain still, almost as still as a statue itself. You have heard Miguel sing before when he does so under his breath, sometimes unaware of it, but nothing compare to this. If his voice sounds beautiful in the video, it sounds angelic live. His voice travels straight to your heart.

Still playing, Miguel’s eyes fill with some tears. After so long, he’s playing and singing her song. For so long, he’s tried to not think of it, finding it to be too much for him, too soon for his grieving heart, but his very heart seems to have found today appropriate for it.

Maybe it’s another sign of him healing, Miguel doesn’t know, but he has no regrets playing it now. It feels right, so he continues, hoping that wherever Gabby is, she’s listening to him sing it at last, just for her.

“En mi vida no habrá, más cariño que tú, mi amor. Porque no eres ingrata, mi Luna de plata, luna de Xelajú. Luna que me alumbró, en mis noches de amor… [in my life there won’t be more love than you, my love. Because you’re not ungrateful, my moon of silver, moon of Xelajú. Moon that lightened me up, in my nights of love]” Miguel sings, his fingers slowing down as he pauses for a few seconds. “Hoy consuelas la pena… Por una morena… que me… Abandonó [today you console the sorrow… for a brunette, or girl of dark complexion… that… abandoned me],” he sings the end in a whisper, a single tear rolling down his face as his fingers play the last notes, finishing the song.

He lowers the guitar to his lap slowly, still gazing at Gabby’s photo. He doesn’t bother to wipe away the tear that slowly trails down his face. Instead, he lets it run its course until it sinks into his skin. Miguel inhales heavily and sighs. Something in him, so deep, settling in. It’s a certain kind of peace.

At last, several seconds later, you sigh as well. You didn’t realize you held your breath throughout the entirety of the song, but you did. You didn’t want to miss a single moment of Miguel singing to Gabby; from hearing his gentle, soothing voice.

“That was beautiful,” you whisper quietly, looking at Gabby’s photo.

Miguel smiles slowly. “Thank you,” he whispers back. “I haven’t played, sang, nor heard it since then. The last time was before I lost her. Even the simple thought of it, the melody in my head - was too much for me,” Miguel admits, gathering his thoughts. “If she was alive, I know she’d be changing. The things she once liked, maybe she wouldn’t be much into anymore. Maybe this song wouldn’t be her favorite anymore. There’s a chance… I know, but even then, before I decided to play it, I thought maybe, just maybe, from wherever she’s at, keeping me safe, she might enjoy me playing her once favorite song from down here on Earth… I hope she heard it.”

You smile softly, still staring at the photo and think about Miguel’s words. Maybe Gabby’s music taste would’ve changed by now. Perhaps “Luna de Xelajú” would no longer be her favorite song, and maybe it’s wishful thinking, but a part of you believes that Gabby would’ve loved the beautiful gesture from her dad regardless. And for some reason, you also can’t help but think that maybe she did hear it tonight.

The two flickering birthday candles from earlier come back to mind. That was rather strange. You wonder silently. Maybe the two most important people in Miguel’s life, visited him tonight in their own way.

“I have a feeling she did,” you reply softly.

Miguel turns to face you, shifting his body slightly. “You may think I’m a little bit crazy,” he starts, making you tilt your head towards him with a raised eyebrow, letting him know you don’t. He smiles a bit. “The flickering candles.”

You nod. “I was just thinking about that. Two candles,” you reply.

“Two candles,” Miguel repeats. “Gabby. Gabriel.” He smiles a bit at that. “You don’t think I’m… overthinking it? Maybe with my messed up sleep schedule, I’m just… Not making sense.”

“You’re allowed to believe that,” you state gently. “I’m never going to judge you. I had my fair share of moments in which I felt like Peter and my parents were - leaving me little signs. I also thought about them, you know.” You shift slightly to face him better. “About Gabby and Gabriel.”

Miguel smiles, his head dipping to face the floor. It’s reassuring. He straightens up to look at you again.

“I know I already said it earlier, but, I want to say I’m sorry again. For the way I behaved these last few days.”

You prepare yourself to reply but Miguel lifts his finger, stopping you.

“I don’t want to… Push you away nor make you feel like I’m trying to when I’m not. I have,” Miguel pauses, thinking about that mutual agreement between you some weeks ago.

“We do. We have each other,” Miguel said, before adding, “Always.”

“Always,” you replied.

He also thinks about how you’ve only been a part of his life for a few years. Two, to be exact. It’s a realization that for some reason feels so wrong to him. He wishes you could’ve been in his life sooner, but there’s no time machine to do that, or Miguel would’ve already used it to bring back Gabby and Gabriel. There’s no changing the past, unfortunately, but he has control over some aspects of the future, and he’s already made up his mind. You may have entered his life only two years ago, but he’ll try his absolute best to make sure you stick for the rest of his - until his last breath.

“I don’t want to ever…” he tries and clears his throat. “I don’t want to - I’d like for you - stick around.” He sighs and runs a quick hand through his hair. “I’m not trying to push you - away. Ever.”

You smile at that. “To be honest, it’s going to take a lot for you to push me away. I’m afraid… You’re stuck with me,” you say.

He laughs softly, the sound making your heart swell. “Like that’s a bad thing,” Miguel answers.

“Well… Just saying, so you don’t complain later on.”

“I could never,” Miguel replies, smiling softly.

“Lyla, I hope you recorded that,” you reply, earning yourself a chuckle from Miguel, one that makes you chuckle, too before you both settle into a comfortable silence.

The holographic screen is still available, the same photo of Gabby displayed with one of the sweetest smiles you’ve ever seen.

It’s several minutes later when Miguel breaks the silence. “Tomorrow I’m printing all the photos.” And then remembering, he adds. “Thank you, Lyla. For recovering everything. I… I had no idea there were more photos and videos. Thank you.”

“You got it, Miguel,” Lyla says, looking between him and you, happy that she was able to restore everything. “I’m heading off now. I have some things to work on. Good night.”

“Night,” Miguel replies.

“Good night,” you answer before she disappears.

“Are you tired?” Miguel asks gently.

“Not a lot,” you reply, even though last night you only slept for a few hours. You know Miguel slept even less. “You?”

He shakes his head slightly. “No. Not yet.” He picks up the guitar and plays a few strings, ones you don't recognize.

You remain by his side, letting time go by in each other’s company. Despite the emotions, the mood is lighthearted. Miguel is no longer as quiet and he even offers a few more smiles as the hours go by, smiles that actually reach his eyes.

As time slips by, you notice Miguel grow sleepier and sleepier, which is not surprising. At some point you find him nodding off, so you suggest that he goes to bed but he declines, stating he’s not sleepy yet.

Except, he is and he ends up falling asleep sitting next to you. In a matter of minutes, you grab a pillow from upstairs and your blanket before you reach him. You talk to him softly, waking him enough to talk to him.

“Lay down,” you say, watching the way he looks at you sleepily.

“Mm - no,” he replies, sleepily.

“You’ve fallen asleep. Lay down,” you try again. “Please?”

He sighs, yawning. “I wasn’t sleepy.”

You hold back from chuckling. “I totally believe you. Now, lay down. Please.”

He sighs again, all sleepy and stubborn, but finally lays down.

“Sleep,” you whisper firmly. “Rest, Migs.”

“Are you going upstairs?” he whispers sleepily, his eyes fluttering as he gazes at you, with a hint of a pout.

You smile tenderly at him, the sight of his sleepy features and voice warming your heart.

“I'm staying here,” you reply as you cover him with your blanket, wondering if the reason why he’s asking is because he'll like for you to stay.

“Mm,” he hums sleepily, satisfied with your answer. “Thank you.” He sighs softly, relaxing and settling.

“Lift your head, Miguel.”

“Mhm.” Miguel does so slightly, more asleep than awake now.

You fix the pillow behind his head, your fingers accidentally brushing the small curls on the nape of his neck including the sensitive skin there, eliciting a gentle hum from Miguel, one of contentment, of satisfaction.

You freeze for a second, the sound surprising you. After a second or two, you smile and finish fixing it, pulling the blanket higher up.

“Sleep, Migs,” you whisper tenderly.

“Mhm, dulzura,” Miguel mumbles, dozing off at last.

You take a seat next to him. The holographic screen is still available, displaying the same photo from earlier.

You get comfortable and stare at the photo, thinking about all the new ones, about the videos. You got more glimpses of Miguel's life with his daughter. More glimpses of him being a father.

Turning your attention back to Miguel and taking in all his features, you think once more.

He was meant to be a dad.

You wonder if there's a chance of him opening his heart to someone one day. Of falling in love and having a child. Or, maybe two, or three. Maybe even four.

With thoughts of the possibility of Miguel building a family with someone, you fall asleep yourself.

It's many hours later when you wake up naturally, without the need of an alarm. To your relief, you find Miguel still sleeping peacefully by your side.

Standing up, you notice his sleeping face, once again remembering how similar it is to Gabby's. You hum to yourself, heart swelling with tenderness, before deciding to make coffee.

You go through yesterday's events silently as you prepare the pot and set up the mugs, opting for some simple ones today instead of grabbing more colorful ones, like the mug you gifted Miguel for Father’s Day due to the circumstances of Gabby’s birthday. You wait patiently, remaining quiet to avoid waking up Miguel and think to yourself. You can't believe that all this time there were more photos and videos of Gabby, lost but thankfully recovered and restored by Lyla.

“Good morning,” Miguel says entering the kitchen, his voice still laced with sleep.

“Good morning,” you reply, offering Miguel a smile. “Coffee is almost ready.”

He nods before running a hand through his hair, it being a little disheveled from his sleep. His movement slows down as he vaguely remembers your fingers brushing his hair and neck, a memory that makes his cheeks feel warmer. “I could use some, muchas gracias [thank you].”

“Always,” you reply, not noticing the gentle redness on his cheeks.

He leans on the counter, still waking up and trying to gather his thoughts. He looks over at the coffee and the mugs, remembering. He moves to where the mugs are found and finds the one. It’s the one he’s been using since you gifted it to him; his mug from Father’s Day with the bees. He retrieves it and moves towards you, placing it on the counter near the two you already have out.

“My favorite,” Miguel says looking at it, still so touched by your gifts, bringing a smile to your face.

So, you serve him coffee in that mug and watch him drink it, raising the mug you made with your own hands to his lips. It’s how you also notice the bracelet you gifted him with Gabby’s name on his wrist, another sight that makes you happy. It seems Miguel really liked the gifts.

“Do you want to come with me?” Miguel asks, lowering the mug. “I’m going to the flower market.”

“If it’s alright,” you say, remembering Miguel’s plans to buy flowers for Gabby to place on the altar. “I’d like to.”

Miguel nods. “I’d like for you to come.”

After drinking your mugs of coffee in peace, you both get ready and dress in civilians clothes. For the second time, you borrow the simple holographic suit Miguel allowed you to borrow months ago when your apartment building caught on fire and your suit was dirty and smelling of smoke.

You both slip out of the penthouse and swing through the city before most of the people of Nueva York are awake, before the city is truly buzzing with life. On an alleyway, you both deactivate the suits and step out onto the street wearing your normal clothes to search through the flower market.

You walk around side by side, admiring the different types of flowers available, trying to find the perfect ones for Gabby. You eventually find bouquets that seem to attract both of you; a lovely combination of white and lilac flowers. Together, you choose the best bouquet out of the bunch before continuing to walk around. Despite your mission being accomplished, it seems Miguel is in no rush to leave.

As you both continue to walk around, his gaze turns to you, noticing the way you eye certain flowers with glee and interest. You even stop at certain displays to take a closer look, so Miguel stops to look at them with you, sticking by your side while holding the bouquet he’s already bought.

His brows shoot up when he sees the owner, an older lady, of the display talk to you, inviting you to see further in the back when you stop on theirs.

You shoot him an apologetic smile as the woman enthusiastically talks to you about other options, so he smiles back with a look that lets you know that it’s okay.

“Mujeres. ¿Verdad? [Women. Right?]”

Miguel turns, a little startled by the sudden voice. He finds a man, a much older one.

“¿Disculpe? [Sorry?]” Miguel replies, towering over the man.

“Mujeres divinas. ¿Que haríamos sin ellas? Hermosas. Y mira como les encantan las flores [Divine women. What would we do without them? Beautiful. And look how much they love flowers],” the man says with a smile. “Parece que ya le llevas un arreglo pero le gustan mucho las flores. Así esta mi esposa [looks like you already have an arrangement (bouquet )but she likes flowers. That’s how my wife is],” he says, nodding to the owner. Miguel quickly realizes the owner is the man’s wife. “You know, she pointed you guys out from the little early crowd.”

Miguel clears his throat, looking down at the bouquet of flowers. His mind immediately puts together what the man is insinuating, or rather what he believes.

“She did?” Miguel questions.

“She said that was us thirty-five years ago.”

“Oh,” Miguel says simply for a moment, struck by the fact that two more people have confused him and you for a couple in two weeks, remembering the lady from the grocery store. “We’re… just friends. Best friends.”

The man laughs as his wife and you walk back to them, talking. “That’s how my wife and I started. Friendship is one of the most essential foundations for a blissful and long marriage, mijo [my son]. Take it from me. Thirty-two years of marriage, three kids later. Something to think about, eh? Take care, mijo, and take care of that one, too,” the man says nodding at Miguel and then at you before he withdraws to meet his wife, leaving Miguel speechless.

He watches as the couple talk to you a bit more before finally letting you free. You join his side a few seconds later, smiling.

“Sorry, Mrs. Gonzalez wanted to show me other flowers she has in the back,” you say.

“You learned her name,” Miguel states.

“She introduced herself,” you reply with a shrug. “She was very excited about showing me some flowers. I couldn’t say no.”

“Did you like them?” he asks.

“They were lovely,” you answer, looking at a certain bouquet that caught your eye.

He nods and before you can say anything, he talks to the owners in Spanish.

“Me quiero llevar uno de esos arreglos, por favor. ¿Cuanto es? [I want to take one of those bouquets, please. How much?]”

You watch as the transaction is quickly made between Miguel and Mr. Gonzalez, the latter whispering something to Miguel that you can’t catch.

“¡Gracias, tenga un buen día, don [Thank you, have a good day, sir]!” Miguel says before walking back to you. He hands you the bouquet. “For… you. I noticed you eyeing these.”

You accept them. “Yes, these….” you reply, looking at them and feeling a little awestruck by the fact that you’re suddenly holding a bouquet of flowers bought by Miguel for you. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back. Maybe with some snacks from my universe,” you add at last, moving past the awe, as you both begin to walk.

“No paying back,” Miguel answers as he looks ahead, his tone being one that leaves no room for you argue about it. “It’s… a gift. Look, food trucks. Do you want some breakfast?” Miguel offers, changing the subject, and nodding at the food trucks as you both exit the flower market.

You end up having breakfast on some wooden picnic table under a large umbrella to shield yourselves from the sun since it’s summer now. You talk with ease, the tension from the last few days gone, at last. You both watch as the area quickly fills with more and more citizens from Nueva York, the city coming back to full life.

Instead of swinging back home in your suits, Miguel and you silently agree to walk on the way back. He carries both bouquets of flowers in his arms since he insisted on doing so before you left the picnic table. Together, you walk home, sticking by each other’s side like glue, with Miguel walking closest to the street, keeping you on the inside of the sidewalk.

Once you return home, Miguel and you head to the office room. There, you watch Miguel inject himself with that neon serum you now know about. He looks at you sheepishly as he does so.

“I forgot about it,” Miguel says placing the device down, a glow passing through his crimson eyes.

“It's understandable,” you reply, glad that Miguel is in a different mindset and taking care of this.

With that, you help Miguel print the new photos of Gabby. He makes extra copies for backup purposes, storing them in his personal home computer and multiple USB flashes, or some version of them since they look different in this dimension.

Miguel also retrieves the vase he mentioned the night before and at last, he has everything to set up his little altar for Gabby.

As he places one of the photos in the picture frame, you open the bouquet of flowers he bought for her and arrange it in his mom's vase.

When everything is ready, and the surface has been cleaned properly, you both approach the console table with the items. You stand by, holding the vase, and let Miguel work at his pace.

The photo is placed first and then the vase with pretty and fresh flowers. Miguel retrieves the guitar from where he left it last night and carefully places it next to the console table, taking a few moments to look at it.

He’s glad that it's not hidden away anymore, that he'll be able to look at it every day now. At last, he places a candle and lights it, completing the altar for now. Maybe in the future he'll change something, but right now, it's perfect.

The altar is beautiful. You love the fact that Miguel has added Gabby’s guitar, the flowers that bring such a lovely energy to the living room, but most of all, you love seeing Gabby’s photo on the console table.

And so does Miguel.

You both stand in front of the console table for several minutes, simply admiring and thinking about her in silence.

A while later, you both sit on the rooftop of Miguel’s building, peacefully. You remember that it’s a work day and that both Miguel and you are technically “late” to work by now, but you say nothing. You’re certain Miguel already knows what time it is, and that if he wanted to, both of you would’ve already been there. It seems he’s okay with being late today.

He gazes at the sky, at the soft cloud formations, thinking and unworried about making it to HQ. He trusts that the rest of the team can handle the tasks, just a few more hours, without either of you.

After some time of peaceful silence, Miguel remembers.

“How’s reconstruction going for your building?” he asks.

“It’s almost done. I think in a week or two, we should get the okay to move back in.”

Miguel almost frowns, but he keeps the same look on his face. A week or two. His chest feels heavy all of a sudden and he wonders where time went.

“That’s… Good for the building, and everyone,” Miguel forces himself to say. Sure, he’s glad that everyone will be able to go back, that you’ll have your apartment once again - the one you love so much. Hell, even he misses the comfort and coziness from it, but… Why does the idea hurt him more than he thought it would?

He gulps. In a week or two you’ll be gone, back to your universe. He places his hand on the rooftop’s ground, accidentally brushing his fingers against yours.

“Sorry,” he apologizes instantly, worried he may have squeezed some of your fingers with his larger hand.

“It’s alright,” you reply with a smile, keeping your hand where it was, unbothered.

Miguel places his hand near yours, both of you silent and thinking about your upcoming return to your apartment.

A part of you is happy your place will be available again and yet… You sigh softly, staring at the clouds just like Miguel.

Neither of you say anything else about it, equally avoiding further conversation regarding the matter without knowing.

“I know it’s barely time, but what if we stay here for lunch?” Miguel says after a while. “A homemade lunch.”

“That sounds great,” you reply. “What do you feel like eating?”

“Hmm,” Miguel hums, thinking. “What are you up to?”

You laugh. “I’m up for anything.”

“That narrows it down a lot, thank you,” Miguel says sarcastically with a soft smirk.

“Happy to help,” you reply with your own little smirk.

God, he’s going to miss having you here, Miguel suddenly thinks. He forces himself to not think of that. Not again today. He clears his throat. “Let’s head back. It’s growing hotter. We can think inside of what to cook.”

You both slip back inside the penthouse, into the cool air.

“Maybe we can make some chilaquiles [Mexican dish]?” you offer, now in the living room.

“That’s an idea,” Miguel replies as you both stop in front of Gabby’s altar once more.

You both stare at it, the candle still on.

Slowly, you offer your pinky finger. A second later without hesitation, Miguel wraps his around yours.

“Thank you for sticking around,” he says quietly. “Despite my mood.”

“Always,” you reply. “No matter what.”

Miguel gives your pinky a hug with his own. “Always.”

A minute later, you both head to the kitchen to start prepping lunch, splitting up tasks to finish sooner, leaving Gabby’s altar in the living room.

The candle’s flame flickers and dances, peacefully.

A/N: It's here!! The way life kept holding me back from writing this chapter?? But it's finally here :) I loved writing this one so much (I've loved writing every single chapter lets be real) but I've been planning the concept of you helping Miguel celebrate Gabby's birthday since part 3 when we first learned Miguel doesn't celebrate birthdays but instead, makes an ofrenda for his deceased loved ones. Can't believe we're already on part 17, or that we're even on a part 17 to begin with!

I'm going to make this as quick as possible because you've already given my fic and me so much time of your day/night, so... Some of you may or may not know but this month (July) will make one year since I started writing this story and writing fanfic again in general after several years. To be specific, I posted the first chapter on July 29th. 🥺

I seriously doubt that I'll have the next chapter by then, so I just wanted to take the time today to give you guys a huge THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart 🥹❤️ I say it again, and again, and again, but the support this story and my writing has received since I started writing fanfic again truly means so much to me!! I know I also say this a lot, but I genuinely didn't think many people would be interested to read this fanfic that initially was planned out to be only 3 or 4 parts long (lol). Almost a year later, I'm still writing and this story has turned into something so much more than I planned - so much bigger - thanks to you!! All the comments, the asks, the fanart, and you lovely people I get to interact with ... Wow!!! Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd be back to writing fanfiction, much less have it be received and loved so much!! 🥹

Special thank you to every single artist who has created fanart of Nonviolent Communication!! If you read this, I hope you know that you've made me so incredibly happy, blessed, grateful, honored, and so much more - to see such beautiful art inspired by my fic. Each time a fanart has been posted, I've screamed and cried out of excitement, and that's not exaggeration. I am beyond thankful to have the privilege of saying there's fanart for something I've written (sometimes I'm still like "no way" fr). God - my hands are shaking rn and my chest feels fuzzy. I'm a bit emotional lol, sorry, but THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! One day I may stop writing (I hope not) but please know I'm always going to cherish all the fanart (which is all saved in my computer and phone, and now tablet because it's that important to me)!!!!! 😭

I'm gonna end it here because as usual, I'm yapping in the author's note and also the tears are coming🫣 but please know, this means so much to me, and ily guys!!! Thank you for inspiring me to write for our fav Spider-Man, Miguel❤️

To celebrate a year, I'll be posting something regarding opening writing requests (for the first time) over the next week, so if you're interested, keep an eye out for my posts. I was trying to come up with something more exciting but that's all I could think of to celebrate!🤣

That's all. Thank you so much for reading again, and ily guys!! Take care!!

And for old time's sake, I still love Miguel O'Hara (even more)!!🥹

Alondra❤️

P.S. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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[feyroon]

my heart belongs to the girl with the grey-blue eyes

not quite clear blue day

not quite deep ocean

she swims somewhere between

two endlessnesses

where the light is not warm

but i have never felt more at home

than when i’m looking into that place

between the abyss and the heavens

[someonewhowannadielol]

My name is JK (Alien!Jungkook! x Human!Reader)

PART TWO (SEQUEL TO ‘MY NAME IS 01001010 01001011′)

CLICK HERE FOR PART ONE

LINK TO MASTERLIST

Warning: Tooth-rotting fluff, Jungkook being a cutie, ok the real warning tags are Daddy kink, birthday sex, innocent reader being trained (???), lots of hicks and marking, cunt slapping, oral sex, uhh and jk being a competitive baby.

Genre: Fluff, Smut, if you squint and look closely, a little bit of humour.

Word Count: 5.6k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

It had been a week since Jungkook had, ahem, dicked you down. And it has been the best week of your life so far – he showed you things you had never seen before, the most beautiful scenes that your eyes feasted upon. You both had gone to the Neon Valley, it was a vast blue-purple lake that lit up at night due to the minerals on the sand bed below, and the lilies residing there would dance every night.

They fluttered, swung and swayed – and simultaneously, Jungkook and you too, had danced – he took you in his arms and as you both slow danced to the humming of the diva-crackers, you couldn’t help but look at his gorgeous face, adorned with a smile that you’d never replace for anything in this universe. You could feel yourself falling for him, he twirled you with ease, and as you stumbled back into his arms, he lost his balance trying to save you from falling and splash! 

You both had ended up in the hot water, and despite the current situation, you both had burst into boisterous laughter which echoed across the plain field around. In the shining moonlight, Jungkook’s face was more lit up than the neon water they were in, his long hair sprawled across his forehead, as he pushed it back with his left hand, while holding your waist with his right arm.

Jungkook looked at you with such intensity, you didn’t really know how to react. both of you knew you wanted more than just cuddles on your couch that was too small for Jungkook, more than grocery shop romances, and trekking on the artificial mountain, and more than watching movies together,, more than cuddling under the tree at the main park, more than making fun of each other, you wanted each other so much more badly.

“Kiss me,” Jungkook whispered, his face getting dangerously close.

“I’m scared,” Of course you were, but you didn’t move away from me.

“Of what?” Jungkook’s eyebrows bunched up like they always do when he’s confused.

“Of falling. Of drowning,” you answered as you looked into his eyes, how could someone not fall for him?

“Well, I’m already drowning, so don’t be scared, silly,” Jungkook’s eyes formed from his usual doe eyes to half-moon crescents and, you were no longer afraid to fall.

Because he was there, he will always be there, right beside you.

Fuck. You couldn’t help but curse as you saw the red spot on your lavender sheets, they were my favorite sheets. You had really bad mood swings when you were on your period, and you were basically uncontrollable. You saw Jungkook’s figure on the left side of the bed, sleeping peacefully, his chest heaving up and down as he breathes consistently.

“Baby,” you whined, as you almost pushed him off the bed. There was no way that you were going to the pharmacy to get the goods, so he was your only choice possible.

He stumbled as he got up, sleep still swimming in his eyes, as his hands went up to rub them, trying to get rid of the slumber that had taken over him.

“Yes, princess?” he asked in his hoarse voice – which turned you on (especially a lot now, since your uterus was sad, lonely and angry). His eyes travelled to the blood on the sheets, and it would be an understatement to say that he had a heart attack.

He immediately engulfed you in his arms, “Are you hurt anywhere?” he said, unable to breathe, because fuck, if anything ever happened to you, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

The worry in his eyes was making you feel guilty; did he even know what was happening?

“Jungkook, chill,” you laughed a little before directing him to the side of the bed, telling him to sit.

“Humans – well, only females – have to go through a period of time where they bleed. From down there,” you explain, and watch him go into a slight state of shock.

The poor baby just woke up 2 minutes ago, so this was probably hard to digest.

“You… you’re bleeding… and you don’t go to the hospital?”

“Does it hurt?” he asks in the timidest voice ever, careful not to offend you. He remembers once he asked you about body hair and since it was your biggest insecurity (cue Middle School flashbacks when you were the only girl with a slight unibrow and mustache), you couldn’t help but lash out on him.

“Yeah, it hurts a lot in my tummy,” you said on your way to the bathroom, “I need my supplies though, could you get them for me?”

Half an hour later, Jungkook returned with five bags of chocolates, chips and snacks – enough to feed a small village. The entire week, he kept studying you (you swear you saw him looking at you and writing notes in his small notebook, like a detective. Sigh) and your mood swings and tendency to eat the weirdest food combinations – he couldn’t help but gag when he saw you dip a whole cucumber in peanut butter.

“Kookie, cuddle with me,” during the day you would make grabby hands at him, and get him to massage your back, but at night you’d be the complete opposite – wanting to sleep as far away from him as possible. He also noted that you were more sensitive to jokes during the week, so he kept them at a minimum, and his praises at a maximum.

“Baby, you know, you look so cute in my arms,” he cooed, as he kissed your cheek while cuddling. He didn’t miss the blush that crept on your cheeks either.

Also, despite all the bleeding, you were ready to jump his bones anytime. He hasn’t had this much sex with anyone in one week. Not that he minded it.

You were more than ecstatic when you saw your favourite-est food in the world stocked in the human section of the grocery store. Spicy Hot Korean Ramen! You still remember when eating this used to be a challenge, back on Earth.

As you stacked the basket with half the stock, Jungkook couldn’t help but look at the ingredients – what was it that made you love them so much?

He was well, more than shocked to see all the different kinds of spices that humans could barely tolerate, chili flakes, red pepper oil, habanero flavored seasoning… he couldn’t let you eat this!

“Baby, this is too spicy for you, maybe we should buy this,” he pointed to the boring chicken and cheese flavored ramen. No! You were going to buy the spicy one and that’s finalized. Of course, Jungkook looked at you, and couldn’t argue. He doesn’t think he could argue with you even if he tried to.

Back at the apartment, Jungkook bit his tongue, trying not to say “I told you so,” as you fought your tears while eating the horrendous noodles. You were positive you could never feel your numb tongue as you chugged down the glass of strawberry milk that Jungkook handed you.

As expected, Jungkook was prepared for the stomach ache you experienced throughout the night, and gave you medicine to recover.

Before sleeping, you heard him sigh before saying, “I told you so,”

Jungkook had noticed you a lot, ever since you moved in with him. You didn’t have much belongings anyways, because you were only allowed to carry 100 pounds of baggage on the space craft, so you only carried the essentials. (Yes, you brought an oven. Yes, it was 77 pounds heavy. No regrets.)

While getting accustomed to his cozy, but huge apartment, you couldn’t help but trip over furniture. At first, it was his coffee table in the kitchen, next to the refrigerator. Every time you would get something to eat, your pinky would hit the leg of the table, causing you to splutter nonsense and then cry about it.

His bed was also higher than you expected it to be, so every day, for an entire month, after waking up you would underestimate the height – and always, always fall down from it.

He was extremely shocked by your ability to ignore pain, and to continue suffering every day because of the same cause at the same place. It’s okay, because now he’d hold you as you stepped out of the bed, and moved the coffee table to the other side of the kitchen.

He also noticed that humans don’t always have a thought out sleep schedule, they did as they pleased. Last night, you were pretty much half asleep at 4 AM, as you tried to finish the last episode of the new Netflix series.

“You were so sleepy, yet you continued to watch it without even understanding what’s happening?” he asked as soon as you woke up, to which you shrugged.

Again, next week, you forced yourself to get up at 5AM in the morning, so you could go for a jog. After all, you were thinking of getting more fit, all you did was lay on the couch. But as you headed in the bathroom for a shower after the run, he couldn’t help but think that humans are weird.

The first time Jungkook heard you crunch your bones, he was so scared, you almost though he would faint. He threw his game controller on the floor, as he ran towards you – thinking you had dislocated a limb, or something.

“Kookie, I was j-just stretching,” you could barely make out the words, trying to hold in your laughter as he tried to make sure you were okay.

With a sigh, he ran his hand through his fluffy – much longer – hair now, as he headed back to continue his game, “Baby, you’re so weird,”

“But you still love me?” you asked as you joined him on the couch, laying your head on his lap.

“I will always love you. Even if your bones crack,”

Bonus: When you got up at night for a midnight snack, you were surprised to see that Kookie wasn’t in bed with you. You later found him in his office, studying about how a human’s joint makes loud popping or cracking sounds because of the gas gathered there. He was finally content to ensure that you were safe.

Of course, you smothered him in hugs and kisses, because he always looked out for you. Always.

After a few weeks of being in Corellia, you had started to well… miss Earth. It was natural to do so; you’d lived your entire life there.

“I miss the sunsets, they were so pretty,” you spoke as you showed him a polaroid of you and your sister with the sunset behind you both. You pointed towards the one sun you had, and the purple, pink and orange hues of the clouds.

In an attempt to make you happy, Jungkook gave you a chocolate, they always made you happier, and he’d read somewhere something about chemicals in it making humans happier. But he was surprised to see you dancing (terribly) to a pop song, that seemed a little annoying, but he could deal with it.

The song had seemed to lighten your mood a lot, as you danced along with him happily, and as you looked at him, you felt happier. His long, wavy hair bounced as he danced with you. His eyes were smiling, and it was so pure that you laughed along. You were happy finally.

Until two weeks later, when you came across a photo of you and your high school class, trekking up a mountain on your senior trip to the north. Jungkook saw you sad again, missing Earth and your loved ones. Some were dead, some didn’t make it here, and some lived on the hotter side of the planet.

He put up the same pop song again, and cuddled with you on the couch. For the first time ever, you really felt grateful to God for something. You felt grateful that you were alive, and that you had Jungkook along with you. He looked how he looked every day, wearing a casual white t-shirt and grey baggy sweatpants. You adjusted yourself on his lap, and looked at him, and looked into his brown eyes. As you traced his face with your finger, he laughed, “Princess, do you feel better?”

You smile at the word of endearment, kissing his cheek, “You make me realize the difference between a house and a home. A house is a place, made with bricks and concrete, and materialistic items. But a home, is so much different. A home is where you feel belonged, a home is a place where you get that feeling of love. You make me finally realize how Earth was more of a house for me, but here, in your arms, I finally feel like I’m at home,”

You never thought Jungkook would be an overprotective boyfriend. Or a way too over protective boyfriend. During sex, he would go crazy on your body – sometimes treat you like a china doll, fragile and easily breakable, and sometimes it would be rough and harsh, not that you minded it.

His apartment was well, more suited for Jubal people because the ceilings, the bed, and of course, the kitchen cabinets were all bigger in height and size in comparison to your apartments back on Earth. Often, without thinking Jungkook would put food on the top most cabinets, and you often either felt too embarrassed, or too stubborn to ask for his help.

Which resulted in you – dangerously – climbing on the shelf to grab your precious food. This was a routine now, so you didn’t exactly pay attention to your limbs – just letting your muscle memory do the work for you. Right foot on the counter, and then you push your left knee as well, until you’ve made yourself stable on the counter top. Then, you stand up, holding the cabinet handle. Today was the same, but Jungkook had recently scrubbed clean the shelves, so they were more slippery than usual, and there was a fleeting moment when you thought you were about to fall (which would, by the way, give you the nastiest head injury), and before you realized it, Jungkook had looped his arm around your waist.

You were still shocked – chips in hand – when he settled you on his lap, almost like a child.

“Princess, what were you thinking?” he says as he lets you turn around, so you straddling his lap.

“I just wanted some chips, Kook,” you say with an amused grin. He was obviously distressed, as he sighed while running his hands through his hair, like he would when he was frustrated.

“Baby, you have to tell me if you need something from there, okay? What if you had hurt yourself?” his voice seemed to get louder with every words, and just like that, your amused grin was replaced with a pout, as you lowered your head.

 You didn’t mean to make him angry like that.

Looking at you, he knew he couldn’t ever stay mad at you. It was physically impossible for him. He hugged you, and your head rested on his cheat, feeling his fast heartbeat morphed into a more, stable and steady beat, “I’m just always worried for you. Even if everything is wrong, it’s alright, you’re the only good thing in my life,”

It had been ages since you had gone to a festival, and there was going to be a carnival-like festival in Corellia soon. You didn’t think Jungkook would be that interested, so you were quite surprised to see him… so excited about it.

“It comes twice in a year, you have to come! I’ve heard they’ve made it more human themed this year, so you feel welcomed, but we’ll have our traditional rides too!” he spoke with a gleam in his eyes, as you both got ready.

Jungkook of course, made sure you were wearing at least five layers of clothes, two pairs of gloved, and three pairs of socks. It was night time, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of you looking like a walking marshmallow.

“Baby, you look so cute!” he exclaimed, holding your hand. The dead town looked really alive tonight, as the red, yellow, purple and other multicolored lights lit the place up, to make it feel even more alive. You were really shocked at the amount of people present, but that’s what made it even more fun.

The first thing had to be food, you got two plates of fries, because, well, is it even possible or human to share food? And that too, fries? No way. 

Jungkook had recently discovered ketchup, and now he would dip everything in it before eating. Ramen, dipped in ketchup. Chips, dipped in ketchup. Bread, dipped in ketchup. And now, you saw him cover every single chip in ketchup before eating it. While you thought this was disgusting, you were still amused by his new found love for it.

You both scared a giant cup of strawberry milkshake, that looked like it was out of a romcom, cotton candy pink color, with whipped cream on top. And naturally, the cherry. Your noses touched, as you both drank at the same time, and you couldn’t help but want to live in the moment forever.

You both had spent the night, either enjoying rides that were too scary, and hazardous to experience but at the same time too fun to miss out on, or competition with each other to the next level. You knew Jungkook had always been a competitive little shit, whether it was about who would cook better and faster, or about who loved the other one more, he was always in a competition. This was no exception either, as you both we immersed in a car racing game, where you were well, obviously losing.

You had never really been the best at arcade games, and this car games was extremely frustrating, because the goddamn seat was too big and your legs could barely reach the pedals on the bottom while holding onto the steering wheel simultaneously. He laughed as you struggled to multitask, and at one point you didn’t realise you were going the wrong way until you heard Jungkook laughing so hard, he was struggling to breath. Three tries later, Jungkook had had his fair share of victories as he put you in his lap, and told you to focus on the steering only. He’d handle the pedals part. Together, you guys had broken the fastest record of the day and of course, he had to congratulate you. And the congratulations came in a form of a heated kiss – which wasn’t liked by the Jubals waiting in line to play the game.

Later, you both had way too much fun beating others in basketball as you paired up, and beat a Jubal power couple. Then came the bumper cars. The same Jubal power couple had hit your and Jungkook’s car so hard that you almost flew across the set-up, if it wasn’t for the seatbelt, and Jungkook’s arm around the waist. It was safe to say that Kook took his revenge by hitting their car repeatedly, as he shoved them into a corner. You kissed your over protective boyfriend on the cheek, he was just so fricking cute.

You both ate more food than you could handle, and as you were walking, Jungkook bought a donut and tried to feed you.

“No! No, Kook, I swear!” you tried to get away from him, but he held your waist as he pushed the donut in your mouth, smearing it over your cheek in the process.

“Kook!” you exclaimed, as he kissed you, and licked away any leftover icing.

You couldn’t help but blush when he smirked, “Sweet.”

At the end of it all, you pushed Kook into a small photo booth that sat on the other end of the carnival.

“Please? Come on!” you tried to show him your puppy eyes, and turned your lips into a pout.

“But baby, I don’t look good in photos!” he whined as you inserted the money to take a four portrait photo.

“Please? Just this once? For me?” you pouted again, and pushed him in with you, and you tried to drag his arms.

“You can’t give me the puppy dog face! You know I can’t say no to that!” he whined, adjusting you in his lap.

“Just pose, Kookie,” you said as you closed the red curtain on the side. In the first one, your arms were around his neck as you laughed and looked in the camera, and he looked at you, pouting. The second one, you both looked at each other and smiled, his hands in your hair. The third had been him grabbing your face, squishing you cheeks and bringing you closer (but because of the movement – it was also blurred, at which you were disappointed, but Kook assured you it looked good), and lastly, in the fourth one, you were kissing passionately, while Jungkook smiled in the kiss.

You both climb the small hill, where people are buying and lighting their lanterns in an orderly manner. You both buy one, and you end up writing “JK X Y/N” on it with red paint, and before Jungkook lights it, he adds a red heart, and “4EVER,” underneath which looks so cheesy, that it makes you laugh.

He looks at you, and kisses your forehead. Around 10:30, everyone lets go of their lanterns, and you both also let go of yours, letting it fly in the sky, as Jungkook cups your cheeks and pushes your hair back, before kissing you, sweet and slow.

The night had come to an end as all the Jubals were leaving too. You didn’t know exactly what time it was, but it was definitely i-can’t-walk-o’ clock, as Jungkook gave you a piggy back ride without any questions when he saw you stumbled into others. In one hand you held the teddy bear he had won from the water gun thingy, and in the other you held a cotton candy like sweet – but it wasn’t exactly cotton candy. It was blue and purple, and shined because of the crystallized sugar on it.

The last thing you remember was resting your face where his shoulder and neck met and mumbling, “This was the best day of my life,”

If someone had told you that you’d have a cook off with an alien in two months’ time, you would’ve laughed in their face. But. Here you were. Trying to cook the best alfredo pasta he would ever taste in his life.

You tried to glance on his cooking station multiple times, only to be pushed back, “Baby! It’s supposed to be a surprise!”

Jungkook really seemed to be absorbed in the cooking process, and you were starting to feel deprived of his love and adoration that he would usually shower at you when he was not working in his office.

30 minutes later, he brought you his favourite dish, the one that his mother used to cook for him when he was younger. It was orange red-ish coloured deep fried small cutlets, that smelled… amazing. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it tasted like, it was salty, but in a different way. And so, so, yummy. You were a little insecure when Jungkook took a bite of your pasta, and showed no emotion.

Oh no, you had tasted it and it felt pretty normal, juts how you’d make it on Earth. Was he allergic to something in it?

“Baby, what did you put in this?” he asked, but he didn’t seem to stop eating it. He didn’t speak anything until, well, he finished the dish.

“Can you make that for me every day?”

It had been over six months, since you and Jungkook had been seeing each other. Naturally, as a couple you both did fight – mostly over stupid stuff, like which restaurant to go to, or disagreements on what to buy etc. But you both would always sort it out, no matter what it was, he was always by your side.

It was his birthday, and Jubals never really celebrated their birthday – “Why would you celebrate this? I’m just one more year near death,” he said as you told him about ‘Earth Traditions’.

Albeit to whatever he said, you made yourself busy when he went out to meet the gang. You’d met them a couple of times before, being much closer to Taehyung because he never really questioned whatever you did, and just went along with it. You had enjoyed Jimin and Jin’s company as well (mostly because they cooked for you, not gonna lie).

As you hung up the balloons that said, “Happy Birthday!” individually, you had started to well, decorate yourself as well.

You knew how Jungkook always looked at you as if you were the most pure creature in this universe, his innocent little baby, so you decided to dress the part. Dressed in white panties, with a small bow on them, you adjusted your pink tinted, bra that came along with it. It left little to the imagination, as it was see-through, but there were small bows on each nipple, making you look like a present. You’d never really been the one to dress up in stockings as well, but here you were, tweaking your garter, as the pink shaded white see-through material latched on your legs as a second skin. Now, you waited patiently.

He finally came, around half past seven, and looked better than ever. You’d worn your silk robe that you would usually wear around, so he wouldn’t suspect anything. He looked so happy, his eyes crunched up into its usual crescent shape as he laughed while blowing the candles and eating your home-made cake. He had always loved your baking, so when you made his favourite Oreo cake, he was really, really happy. You’d made him a teddy bear – you were bad at sewing, but hey! A for effort.

“Kook, there’s a present in your bedroom too,” you said as you took his left hand and guided him in the bedroom. You had given him several gifts already, so why were you giving him another one?

“Baby, you didn’t have t-“ he stopped as soon as you dropped your robe in front of him, letting him take in the sight of you, clad in your lingerie that he had only imagined in his wildest fantasies.

The light hearted aura around him seemed to vanish, as a darker shade took over his eyes. Without speaking anything, he carried you bridal style, to the bed and laid you down softly on it.

“Gonna let me taint you, angel?” he asked, and at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but moan and nod.

“Use your words, baby,” he said as he let his fingers roam on your figure, and lit a fire in your core, making you overwhelmed.

“Yes, Daddy, please make love to me,” you whine, but he tsks on your choice of words.

“Angel, my princess,” he says as he leaves a trail of wet kisses from your neck to you collarbone, sucking on it, “I’m not going to love to you today, I’m going to fuck you, baby”

You gasp as he circles around the bow on your nipple, before ripping the thin material completely, letting the cool air hit your vulnerable skin.

As Jungkook just keeps looking at you, his long hair shadowing in front of his eyes, you can’t help but feel needy, “Daddy, please, touch me,” you whine, trying to get ahold of his hand.

He gently brings his mouth down, sucking on the little tip of your nipple, as his tongue works magic around it, and you’re already starting to get wet.

“It’s u-unfair that you’re all d-dressed up,” you moan, as you try to take off his white t-shirt. He chuckles as he takes off his shirt, letting you look at his god-like body. You were speechless when you first saw him, and you still are every time you both have sex.

His lean body, is just perfect in every way, and the way the moonlight hits his face, giving his face the shadows that come along with the highlights, you were dumbstruck at how breathtaking he was.

While Jungkook loved to mark you, mark your body, make you his, today was harsher, much more aggressive as he bit your chest, making you cry out in pleasure. He painted your body in hues of purple and bright pink, using his tongue to make each bruise feel better. As soon as he reached the hem of your underwear, he stopped, and that resulting in a whine from you.

“It’s my birthday, and you said I deserve anything on this day. So, princess,” he said, unbuckling his belt, and you swallow hard before he lets his cock free, ”let me fuck those beautiful tits,”

He pushes himself into your mouth without any warning, letting you groan and whimper as you produce enough saliva to make him sopping wet, “Good baby,” he whispers as he lets his dick between your tits.

You smiled, as you held your breasts together, and he slides his hardening member between them, “fuck baby, you’re so soft, so pretty for Daddy,” he murmurs obscene praises as you whimper in pleasure from the friction between your breasts.

He places his cock between them, and first experiments with his movements, and as time passes, he becomes faster, and messier. You both didn’t mind the mess, as his pre-cum lands on your chest, collarbone and nipples, and you can only whine in pleasure while letting him use your body.

His movements go from steady and fast to uncoordinated and stuttering, as he pulls out and pants, letting him catch his breath.

“Fuck, baby, they felt like heaven, but there’s something else, way better,” he grins as pulls himself down on your body, and looks as you underwear, directly. It makes you whimper, when you feel his hot breath through the thin material. He laps his tongue on it, and it feels so good, but not good enough, and you wish he would just take it off.

“Daddy, please, take it off,” you whine and he pulls your legs further apart and digs his face between them.

He smirks and looks at you, already fucked out as a blush stays on your cheeks. Angelic.

“Keep the stockings on, okay, sweetheart?” he says as his finger traced down your leg, as you shiver under his touch.

He comes up to you and cups your face, pressing a kiss against your cheek – and it felt so chaste in comparison to what you both had just done.

And before you could realize, he slips his fingers under the hem of your panties, and shreds them into pieces.

“What do you want from Daddy?” he stops in front of your clit, spreading your lips, waiting for your answer. He knew you were shy, too shy to speak vulgar words, but you were just so needy right now.

“Daddy, I need your tongue,” you speak, and let his tongue sit flat on your bud, it gave enough stimulation, but at the same time not enough, and you just needed more. You couldn’t help but buckle your hips into his face, and that resulted in his getting up and looking at you, making eye contact.

“You’re being ungrateful now, huh?” he says as he smacks the bud hard, where seconds ago he let his tongue rest. It’s painful, but at the same time, it just feels so, so good. He smacks it two more times before letting his teeth sink in your inner thigh, as you let lewd noises escape your mouth, as he further marks your thighs, and you knew, for sure that they would last a long time.

After a lifetime of teasing, he lets his tongue slurp the cum that escaped your pussy, as he went to town on it, eating you out as if he’s been starving for years. You let your moans escape as he slips his tongue inside you, and lets his nose rub against your clit. You were so close, just about to fall off the edge as he pulls himself away, and you whimper, grabbing the sheets as if your life depended on them.

“Your cunt is always, always so pretty and tasty for Daddy,” he smacks between your thighs again, making you gasp, “always ready for Daddy,”

His ruffled, brown hair shines in the dark of the room, the moonlight being the only source of light, illuminating his face.

He lets his dick enter you, gently, until you reach your limit and instead of waiting like he always does, he rams back into you again, letting you adjust with his steady movements, as you grab his hand and hold it. He always holds your hand when he’s being rough, to let you know that he can stop anytime. (but u is a hoe)

He slides out until only his tip is inside you, and lets himself into you all at once, fast and reckless. Wild. It isn’t long before your walls clench around him, “Daddy, I-I’m so close,” you say as your rub you clit, slowly with a continual movement.

You orgasm starts first, hot and sticky liquid, dripping down you thigh, staining your perfect stockings, and soon Jungkook follows, as his head buries in your neck, and he groans before letting himself loose.

“Happy Birthday, Kookie,” you whisper before letting him take you to the tub, where you both well, fuck again.

LINK TO MASTERLIST 

A/N: It’s always so fun to write alien!jk, and I hoped you guys liked it. Also, a huge thank you to @bisoo-ausucre for supporting me so much!

Could you please help me decide what to write first? Frat boy!jk OR titanic!au with Jimin as Jack? 

As always, requests are open, and so is my inbox. See you next time!

[cedric-stories]

The New Routine (Cedric the sorcerer x reader)

This is me, finally submitting my first piece of garbage..

It’s awful. I’m sorry. First fanfic so give me grace!

1,490 words or so

Reader pronouns: She/her

Cedric’s body was curled around yours. The two of you had just moved in together about a week ago. Just thinking about the experience gave you butterflies and a knot in your stomach. The way your commitment had grown in just a few days astounded you. You swore the way love was made had grown much deeper. Nothing had compared to the way things were now. But, as much as this was a beautiful thing, a routine needed to be placed. You looked at your phone and saw the time. It was 5am and you decided to get out of bed and start your day.

           You headed for the bathroom even though your body would’ve rather stayed in bed. Opening a drawer, you grabbed a toothbrush, hair-tie, and began the morning. You changed into black runner’s shorts and sports bra and made your way out of the house to the gym (locking the door as Cedric had requested you do many times before).

An hour and a half later, you made it back to the tower. Unlocking the door, you felt disgusting. Rushing to the shower, you discarded your bag and clothing into the washroom.

           You walked into the bathroom while untying your hair and started the shower. The warm water felt good to your skin as you stepped in. Starting with your hair, you began to slowly clean your sweat covered body and made sure you nicely exfoliated before leaving.

           After this slightly longer than a half hour shower (this was always the part you enjoyed the most), got out, found a towel, and headed over to your clothing that was sitting on a wooden chair in the bathroom.

           There were a few obvious perks to living with your significant other. First, this would be the endless amount of attention you got at home (like kisses to hugs from behind when you were working on a project). Even though this was nice, your favorite part was teasing him. So, you decided to put on your silk, pink crop top and shorts. They had a black trim, and the crop had a slight pushup effect. Swinging your hips as you walked out of the bathroom, you felt beautiful, but there was a rotten feeling creeping up into your mood.

While you had only moved in a week ago, you could surely tell something was different. The past few days had been filled with cakes, doughnuts, and creamers and this was not a normal occurrence. You needed to get back on track with you diet so you thought today would work just fine. Cedric did not necessary eat the most nutritious foods in the world so this may be a challenge for you to get him used to. You started by scrambling four eggs into a pan and added some peppers. Next, you put three pieces of whole grain toast into the toaster slots.

Cedric woke to the sounds of an iPhone alarm. Shifting and stretching, he turned to glance over at his sleeping girlfriend to only find a dent in the bed. Running a hand through his black hair he got up and shuffled his feet over the cold tile of the bathroom.

While getting ready for his day, Cedric started to wonder where you had gone. Every morning since you had moved in you’ve been there. One morning it was almost 1pm and the two of you had just gotten up. You had started moving around in bed and had woken him. Ah yes, what a morning that was, but now, things were different. You had talked of wanting to “get back on track” with your routine yesterday but Cedric presumed it would not be too different. While he missed seeing your lovely face this morning, he had to admit that being alone for a few minutes was quite enjoyable. The two of you had been together every second the past few days, and just being able to listen to the sound of his own robe crinkling as he put it on was a nice change.

After getting settled in his normal attire, he followed smells into the kitchen to find his girlfriend.

“Good morning, love!” you almost shouted when he came in the room. “Oh, my goodness, I missed you this morning!” you exclaimed, galloping towards the man. You were about a foot away from him when you noticed something was off. “Are you okay, love?”

Cedric tried to think of an answer but all he could do was stare. His cheeks started to turn red as his eyes looked at your pink, laced outfit.

You gave a small giggle and took a few more steps towards him.

“Now, is this really so terrible?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I just wanted to look nice for you.” With that, you gave him a soft kiss.

Cedric put his arms around you as well. Running a hand through your messy hair, he began walking you towards the nearest wall; lips not parting.

Your back felt the hard coolness of a surface and you gave a small sign. You finally got him to give up your lips only to have him start kissing down your neck.

“L-love...” you began.

He nuzzled up to you and made a replying “Um-hm?” noise.

“D-don’t you think we should wait until breakfast is over?”

You felt a hand drop down your side and his lips released from their current place.

With one final passion filled kiss he replied.

“I suppose.”

Once the two of you had broken away, Cedric sat down.

“I noticed something unusual today.” He began. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”

You cocked your head at the man and smiled. “Well, I told you yesterday I was going to get back into my normal routine.”

“I know.” He paused. “I guess I just did not believe it would be so different.”

You walked over to him and began stroking his hair. “I’m sorry, but I do think it’s best we start our lives together with a plan, don’t you?”

“Yes, I guess I just missed you was all.” He blushed as the words fell from his mouth.

“I missed you too.” You replied, starting to feel an unwanted urge in your core.

Against your better judgement, you sat down on your boyfriend’s lap and put your hand up his sleeve. Without any encouragement, Cedric grabbed your face gently and kissed you.

Your hand began running through his hair wildly while he tried pulling you farther onto his lap. Flipping your leg around, you began straddling him. You pressed closer and suddenly you felt a hand fall underneath your behind. You gave a small moan, bucked your hips.

“You need to give me a warning before you do that.”

A familiar smirk appeared on Cedric’s face.

“And why should I do that?”

Again, without a warning, he squeezed you tightly. You automatically bucked against him.

He gave a groan. “Sweetheart, if you keep doing that this is not going to end here.”

“Well, then stop making me!” You giggled.

Cedric shook his head, “No, I don’t think I’ll do that.”

He kissed you again, but this time you could feel his hands move up along your stomach towards your chest.  Fingers started to circle your crop’s base and began slipping underneath. You jolted.

“Cedric, don’t you dare!” you blurted out.

He raised a brow at you. The two of you locked eyes, almost like you were daring him.

“Is that a challenge?”

“I don’t know, maybe you should try to find out.”

Suddenly, the toaster popped. Once again you were shot back into reality.

“I guess that’s our timeout.” You breathed.

 After getting up, you started making your plates.

“Since we are now living together, love, I thought it was a good idea to start planning our meals too. You see, normally I eat fairly healthy. Last week was not like that. So, see how you like it and maybe this can be our normal”

You could see a peculiar look on his face as you put the plate down.

“So, this would be our”, He hesitated, “normal?”

“Yes. Please just maybe try it?” You pleaded, trying to look as pitiful as possible.

He gave you a small eyebrow raise and nodded.

After you both finished, you took the plates to the dishwasher to clean. Moments later you felt familiar arms wrapping around your waist.

“I am not very accustomed to this type of breakfast, but I think I will start getting used to it; as long as I may finally have you?” Cedric said, peppering your neck with kisses.

Heat met your cheeks and your knees got weak as your body started melting into his.

“I think I could arrange that.”

[jessefandomunited]

Visiting hours  (part 1)

Spencer Reid X Reader

You can’t believe Spencer got thrown in prison and when your forced to take sick leave you have to go to see him.

I’ve been numb ever since Reid was put in that damn prison, and it showed in my work. For a while Penelope put me on the night shift on paperwork duty because I was no help, but even that wasn’t working. Emily cleared her throat behind me , “ hey, my office , please.” I slowly got up and cracked my fingers, I glanced at the phone and my heart stopped, I had started my shift at 3pm, it was about 5am now. I swallowed and slowly made my way into Emilys office. “ Please sit,” She said looking at me with intense pity. “Listen I ...I didn’t realize what time it was,” I began to explain but she held a hand up to silence me, “ I know , I know that this has been hard on you, you two were very close, and because of how you’ve been lately, I'm putting you on medical leave.” I stood up, “ what!? I’ve been doing my job, what more do you want!? I'm not sick!” “ Mentally you are,” Emily said firmly , then she softened, “ Listen, take the time off, visit him a few times, heal.” “ How...if i’m not working, if i’m not doing anything it won’t help him at all,” I stuttered holding back tears. “ Please, just a couple weeks at least,” She urged. I bit my lip and nodded. I got up and left the office.

As I was driving home I realized that I couldn’t go home. I looked down at what I was wearing a old fashion peter pan collared blouse with a coffee stain and my longer pleated skirt. Not the thing one usually wears to visit a prisoner but  it would have to do, I couldn’t put off seeing him anymore.

The visitations didn’t start till 10 so when I got there at about 9 they made me wait . The guards inspected me and made snide comments. I ended up putting on my glasses to hide how dark the circles under my eyes have gotten. I couldn’t sleep, any time I closed my eyes I just could imagine what they were doing to him and id end up looking through the web for anything to do with Scratch. Then Penelope moved me to the night shift, so I didn’t sleep at night or during the day. “ Come on,” A guard yelled breaking me out of my trance. I hugged my bag close to me and took a note out before handing it over. They led us into a surprisingly open room that had rows of desks with a small piece of plexiglass in between. I awkwardly sat swinging my legs till the door opened. My head popped up and I watched the inmates walk in. A few of the guys eyed me up and down and there were a few wolf whistles but I didn’t care once I locked eyes with Spencer. A weary smile tugged at his lips and I stood up trying not to cry as he walked over. I went for a hug but a guard yelled, “ NO TOUCHING!” there were a few snickers from other inmates but I ignored them. “ I’m not going to ask how you are, but honestly I don’t know what to even say that will make you feel better I know this sucks I should be out doing something anything ,” I rambled rubbing at my eyes. He looked bad, unshaven unruly hair and he didn’t look like he was sleeping well. “ What are you doing here,” He asked, “ i’m, glad to see you but they usually send people on Monday right?” I rubbed my neck nervously and locked eyes with him before saying, “ Emily...has put me on medical leave. I’ve been working the night shift , on paperwork, and I tend to stay there a bit longer than I'm supposed to and ...” I stopped because he looked distressed, “You’re not sleeping...are you?” “ Not in the strictest seance of the word,” I almost whispered. “ I’m so glad to see you, but i’m...scared for you, it’s not safe and the men here,” He said trying to grab the right words. “ Spencer I can’t just sit at home and do nothing,  I wont ‘heal’ at home, and they wont let me back at work so I want to be here with you , as often as I can , I want to make sure you’re alright. And it drives me mad that I cant do anything because I ,” My words trailed off , I was going to say I loved him , here of all places. I bit my lip, my hands were shaking with rage and I felt hot tears in my eyes, “ It’s not fair.” “ No,” He said simply and I wiped my eyes feeling stupid, “ Sorry, this isn’t what you need to see from the outside world. I uh… wrote you a note, They wont let me give it to you but I know you’re a fast reader.” I held it up. It was me just rambling about things Penelope had said and how we have a big party planned when this is all over and how much we are all working to get him out of here. He nodded his eyes red , “ thankyou, that was really sweet.” “ Look at that little mama with Mr. Reid,” Someone jeered. I saw Spencer stiffen, “ you really shouldn’t be here, really it isn’t safe.” “ Spence I don’t give a fuck,” I whispered so the guard wouldn’t snap at me, “ you’re in here and I will be here as long as it takes to remind you that we haven't given up on you and you shouldn’t either! As for all the guys in here I couldn’t care less what they say, they’re mostly talk.” I winced a bit then added, “ well maybe not for you, but I really doubt they can hurt me out there.” He looked around nervously and swallowed, “ please just be careful.” “ I will I promise,” I said with the first real smile I could muster, “ now what is the one thing you’d want most in the world once you get out, it can be anything.” He seemed to relax a bit with my casual tone, like he’d just be getting off a shift at work, “ maybe a bath, and a few good books.” I smiled brightly and winked , “ that wont be a problem at all.” He tried to hide his blush and I quickly changed the subject to a book he had recommended to me a while ago, and it felt like we were talking back at the office till , “ VISITING HOURS ARE OVER!” We both blinked a couple times like we were pulling ourselves back into reality. “ Bye...Spence,” I said sadly , “ I’ll be here tomorrow.” He visibly became a bit more distant and cold and just slightly nodded. “ Miss i’m going to need you to leave now,” One of the guards insisted . “ Yes… sorry,” I said a little absent minded. I spun around and left without looking back, I couldn’t look back

….

I was sitting outside by myself when they approached me , “ Hey Reid, cute little mama you got there hu?” I really did not want to talk to them in general but especially not about her. I got up and started to walk away but two of the guys grabbed me roughly and turned me to face the other. “ You didn’t answer now thats just rude,” He said in a sickly sweet voice, “ Now I feel like my boys here need to teach you a lesson on respect.” I forced my face to stay stoic, this was just any other usub looking for a weakness to strike at. “ Now,” He continued, “ that lovely lady that came in, she got a name.” “None of your business,” I replied instantly causing one of the guys to punch me in the stomach. I gasped and tried to wriggle out but they held fast. “ Now that’s strike two,” He said shaking his head, “ You know i’ve got some contacts on the outside, one that could turn her world upside down, in fact maybe the next time I see her, i’ll just jump her myself, what are they going to do , put me in solitary?” “ You won’t lay a finger on her,” I snapped . He laughed, “ okay okay, I won’t, but you have to tell her, to her face, that you don’t want to see her again, and if you tell her why, i’ll still jump her, got it?” “ I don’t think you can do that,” I hissed through gritted teeth. The guy punched me again then threw me to the ground, “ I guess you’ll have to find out.” I didn’t want to take that chance but I hated the thought of her not coming, that was the first time in a while I remember smiling or felt like a real person. I shook my head, I was being selfish, this was her life at stake. I took a deep breath and started thinking of a plan.

…

I was able to sleep a little that night, I think physically seeing that Spencer was still Spencer was a big relief even if he did seem more tense. I read a bit of another book he recommended to me the next morning so that i’d have something new to talk about, then it was back in the car driving to the Prison. I had almost forgotten to change before I left, I pretty much collapsed when I got back yesterday and just starred at the ceiling. Today I chose a more neutral outfit , high waisted brown corduroy shorts and an oversize green turtleneck sweater tucked into them. It was a bit more casual that I usually dress in fact I don’t think I have ever dressed this casual with Spencer before, even when we went out to the movies or the planetarium or some other random thing none of the others wanted to go to, I always dressed up for him. I wanted him to feel important but I realized that it didn’t matter what I wore more that I was there, so I decided to test my theory today. I tapped nervously on my backpack as I waited for them to call me in. My palms were sweaty and I felt a lump in my throat, I thought i’d be excited but being surrounded by dangerous men made me anxious. They called us in and I went. I sat at the same table waiting anxiously. I felt like I was going to cry again but I shook that thought out of my head. The door opened and I noticed almost every inmate looked at me as they went to their seats. I felt suddenly very exposed. I heard someone whisper very softly, “ she came baaackkk.” I felt a bit faint, I was definitely in some sort of danger. “ Hey,” I jumped at the sound of Spencer's gentle voice but then relaxed, “ Sorry...I...” I looked around and leaned in, “ i’m….in trouble aren't I ?” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the glass  making me jump again. I saw the words “, you’re in danger, sorry.” “ Spence I,” I started but he snapped loud enough for the others to head, “ listen now and listen good, I do not want to see your face here ever again, is that understood.” The guards walked over to us. “ Understood,” he said darkly. I felt my heart crack a bit and I nodded quickly. I stood up and I heard one inmate say, “ bye bye pretty girl.” I whipped around and kicked the table he was act and fixed him with a cold glare, and then I was drug out of the room. It wasn’t necessary but I had just gotten my best friend taken away from me again and there was literally nothing I could do about it.

[sambergscott]

your son is going to love you

Summary: Peralta dads are cursed, destined to have terrible relationships with their sons. When Jake finds out *he's* going to have a son, he spirals. Amy helps.

goes without saying that if you haven’t watched 7x10 yet maybe don’t read this

She wakes up at 2am needing to pee.

She’s been waking up needing to pee a lot lately.

It’s like their baby has no respect for her sleeping pattern, perfectly honed over the years to maximise productivity, while still fitting in the full 8 hours of sleep needed a day. Their baby doesn’t care about the 8 hour recommendation, he laughs in the face of scientists. With the bad back and heart burn and constant kick, kick, kicking of her bladder, she’s averaging 4.7. She thought babies didn’t start keeping you up all night until they were born but, oh, how wrong she was.

She pats her husband to wake him up and come keep her company. If she’s awake because of their baby, then damn it, he’s going to be awake, too. But he’s not there, leaving her hand awkwardly patting a bare mattress.

“Jake?” She murmurs groggily, sitting up and switching on her bedside lamp. She’s half-expecting him to be sitting in the armchair playing Mario Party on his Switch (he has become a little bit addicted in the last few months and it wouldn’t be the first time she’s found him trying to beat Wario in the early hours of the morning) or have left a note beside her bed that he had a lead on a case and needed to go in with a scribbled ‘love you’ underneath and a lopsided heart. The armchair is empty, but there’s a light on down the hall and since there’s no way she forgot to turn it off before bed (she triple checks), she figures that it must be Jake.

Forgetting the whole reason why she woke up in the first place, she grabs Jake’s hoodie from the floor for warmth and pads into their living-kitchen-dining area. It’s the open plan-ness that made her fall in love with the apartment upon first visit and submit all her paperwork as soon as she was out the door. It’s the open plan-ness that would make the Property Brothers proud and the dumb people who go on that show foam at the mouth with jealousy. It’s the open plan-ness that allows her to see her husband straight away, snacking on the unfinished party food.

(Apparently people don’t feel like eating after a man cuts his thumb off and spurts blood everywhere. Who’d have thought?)

There’s a weird, pensive look on his face that draws her towards him.

“You OK, babe?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he responds. He pops a tomato from the salad bowl in his mouth, then another, then another.

She narrows her eyes. He never eats tomatoes unless they’re in ketchup or on top of a famous Sal’s pizza. Something is wrong.

She thinks back on their day, mentally rewinding the events from waking up to the morning briefing to their private sex reveal in the break room and finding out they’re having a boy (the empty cake box and blue frosting around Scully’s mouth was very surprising indeed). They were both floating on Cloud 9 all afternoon, came home and Zoomed the entire family, falling asleep on the couch around 9.30pm because pregnancy is exhausting.

Nothing particularly awful stands out.

Unless...

“Are you thinking about your Grandpa?”

He’d been so excited to see him again, so excited to reunite Walter Peralta  with Roger, The Admiral with the Captain. To be honest, Amy was less than impressed. He’d been nice enough to her, asked her about her job, about the baby, small talked about the weather. But he never asked her about Jake, probed about the 20 odd years of his grandson’s life that he’d missed out on. Which is frustrating because she has a lot of embarrassing stories ready to tell and a whole photo album of Jake on her phone. He couldn’t care less about Roger or Jake, storming out of the sex reveal party after calling his son a screw up and turning off his phone so they couldn’t get in contact with him. He’s a selfish dick and her husband deserves better. Still, he won’t be thinking about what a monster Walter turned out to be, he’ll be finding ways to blame himself that yet another father walked out of his life again.

He nods silently and she leads him to the couch.

“Talk to me, Jake.”

He releases a shaky breath. “The Peralta’s are cursed.”

“With devastatingly handsome good looks?” She half-jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Because, hello, her husband is hot; she constantly overhears other women in the precinct talking about his glow up and it would be impossible to ignore the female attention he gets in bars and even just walking down the street before he scratches his face to show off his wedding band and wraps one arm proudly around his wife’s shoulders. She’s seen the pictures of a young Roger Peralta, too, and with that charm smile... she gets it.

“Thank you,” he smiles briefly, “but no. Peralta dads are cursed with terrible relationships with their sons.”

“That’s not going to be you,” she says without hesitation, without a shred of doubt.

“How do you know?” He launches into a scathing personal indictment that leaves his cheeks stinging with tears. “I’m immature, obsessed with my work, messy, always late. My dad was never around when I was a kid. I don’t even know what dads do with their sons! And what if it’s in my genes? To be a crappy dad, abandon my kid like a dozen Peralta fathers before me. Your parents still don’t think I’m good enough. You didn’t even like me at first. It only makes sense that our baby would hate me, too.”

“Woah, babe. Slow down. Let’s unpack that one at a time.” She wipes away his tears with his hoodie sleeve and squeezes his hand. “First of all, you are way more mature now than you used to be. We bought a family friendly Sedan. You read parenting books. You were eating fruit, like, two minutes ago.”

“Tomatoes are fruits?”

“What? Yes, how do you not - not the point.” She shakes her head. “And so what, you enjoy your job. That’s a good thing, Jake! Do you understand how rare that is? You’re doing the thing you love while providing a decent income for our family. And besides, I’m way more obsessed than you. I have FOMOW, but that doesn’t mean I won’t love our kid more than anything. And as for the messy, late thing, if I can look past it because of how much I love you, so will our son.”

“Love you, too,” he mumbles.

“Now onto your point about not knowing what dads do, that is a straight up lie and we both know it, Peralta. You’re always hanging out with Charles and Nikolaj and Lord Knows Terry doesn’t shut up about all the activities he does with his girls.”

“I know what they do when I’m around, but what do you do when it’s 5am and they won’t go back to sleep?” He frets. “At what age do you introduce them to Die Hard? In Cry Hard With A Vengeance,” he quotes the parenting book she originally bought him as a joke but has kind of become his Torah, “Bruce Willis says right away, but what if he’s not ready to understand the complex plots? What if he prefers Timothy Olyphant to William Atherton? Oh my God, what if our son doesn’t think Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”

He’s spiralling and it’s a good job he’s with the only person who can truly calm him down.

“I think Bruce Willis is just trying to promote his franchise and that we’ll be watching more Paw Patrol than Die Hard for the next few years, babe, but I’m sure when he is old enough, he will love the movies as much as you.”

“Right,” he agrees, “you’re totally right. Action thrillers aren’t very baby friendly. I’ll just watch it on mute with subtitles.”

She laughs, her eyes crinkling in the corners. She loves him so much. Which segways them nicely onto his final two points.

“My parents do love you. Sure, they’re critical, but that’s just the way they are. They’re the same way to all of us. My mom complains to everyone she meets about how I can’t cook, how Tony hasn’t settled down and made her any beautiful grandbabies yet, even Perfect David faces her wrath when he goes a week without phoning her. If the worst thing my mom has to say about you is that you’re below average in height, you’re doing OK. And as for me apparently not liking you at first, I did like you.”

He furrows his brow. “But you said you found me annoying and difficult to be around.”

“Yet I didn’t ask to switch desks, continued working cases with you and went to Shaw’s whenever I was invited.” She stares at him pointedly. “If I really found you difficult to be around, I wouldn’t have stayed. I thought you were cute and funny and good at your job and yeah, you were annoying too, but,” she shrugs, “it never put me off.”

“So what you’re saying is that you had a crush on me first,” he grins.

“No. You obviously had a crush on me back then, too. What I’m saying is that I love you, our son loves you and you’re going to be a great dad.”

He blushes, ducking his head. “My dad said the same thing. About our son loving me.”

“He’s right,” she replies. “I feel him kick every time you get home from work, every time you sing to Taylor Swift in the car, every time I mention your name. Why didn’t you believe him?”

“I don’t know, still nervous about the curse, I guess.” He twists his wedding band on his finger.

Amy bites her lip. “Are you not excited about us having a boy?”

She has to ask. His excitement looked genuine in the break room, but it’s no secret that he was hoping for a girl. A mini-Amy, he said. While she’s always been more accustomed to boys considering the Santiago’s have, like, a million of them, Jake couldn’t get over the image of a little girl in dresses and doing ballet and with long, dark hair that he eventually learns to braid.

“Of course I am,” he’s quick to assure her. “Stupid excited. Never been more excited for anything. Not even the Ninja Turtles reboot. But still... nervous.” He rubs his hand over his face, muffling his voice. “Everyone is assuming what kind of dad I’m going to be. Whether I’m going to be good at it or not. To be fair, the only person who doubted me is that murderer I arrested last week, obviously not my biggest fan. Everyone else is convinced I can do it. What if I can’t? What if I’m genetically wired to be a bad dad? What if I disappoint you and our baby and Charles who has been dreaming about this forever?”

“Jake,” she softens her voice, pulling his hand away from his face, “the fact you are so worried about being a bad dad proves that you will not be one. Nor could you ever disappoint us.”

“But you’re my wife. You have to say that.”

“I would never have married you and become your wife if I thought you were the kind of person who could abandon your kid,” she promises him. “You have been perfect so far, dealing with all the vitamins and over-scheduled sex and washing my clothes when I sweat through them and holding my hair back when I’m being sick. You’ve been to every doctor’s appointment, read every binder, bought me every weird food craving. You hang out with the bump every night, talking and singing to it. I know you’re going to be a great dad, Jake, because you already are one.”

She kisses him and it’s soft and tender and filled with love, only interrupted by the kick, kick, kicking of their son.

“Hey,” Jake says in his best authoritative dad voice/John McClane dealing with German terrorists voice (he’s been practising in front of the mirror following Bruce’s advice), pointing a warning finger at the bump. “I’m going to kiss your mom as much as I want, Peralta. I loved her first.”

Amy giggles, stroking her fingers through Jake’s unruly curls. His bedhead is always wild and it’s maybe her favourite thing in the entire world. She silently sends a message of her own to their son to inherit his dad’s hair. And eyes. And handsome smile.

He kicks again as if to say ‘OK, mom’.

And then she really needs to pee.

[allforhader]

Things Change, But Not My Love For You

Barry Berkman x (F) Reader

Warnings: Langauge, Injury

0

“Barry?” Y/N calls out when she heard the front door open. She caught a confused look from her husband when he entered their bedroom. “What?”

“What are you doing home?”

“I had the day o—“

“Wait if you had the day off today than what was Monday? You should’ve told me and I would’ve spent time with you...” Barry drops his backpack before sitting on his side of the bed looking at her. “You could’ve told me before-“

“Barry. I had the rest of the day off...”

“Oh...you got let out early? Why? Usually from Greys they’d die to have more scrub nurses in—“

“Barry I’ve told you countless times. Grey’s isn’t the greatest depiction. Thought I said this when you thought I’d go for a neurosurgeon”

“Well that Derek guy can pop up out of no where he did in Greys—besides the point. You should’ve told me...but why were you given the rest of the day? Did something happen?” Barry frowns as Y/N knew he was going to worry before she got to her main point but it’s best to say everything.

“I was on a case, and before the surgery was over I collapsed in the OR—“

“Y/N YOU WHAT—Okay what’s wrong?? What did they find?! Did you hit your head” Barry kept asking all these questions and checking every inch of Y/N as she kept pushing away his hands. “Y/N Why didn’t you call me? Who drove you home? Because your car isn’t here”

“My friend from work drove me home and I didn’t want you to drop everything just to come and get me” Y/N frowns as Barry gave her an annoyed look before bringing her into his arms.

“I would drop everything for you, because you’re my wife. Please tell me they checked you out before you went home” Barry frowns holding her as Y/N pulls away from him for a second.

“Barry, I’m pregnant...”

2

“You’re going to be home a lot more. I won’t be here 24/7 and I would...only be worrying about you instead of landing auditions and fuck still doing what I used to do...You’re going to be alone for a good portion of the day when you get put on leave and I don’t want you getting hurt by anybody” Barry paces the living room as Y/N frowns wishing he’d just sit down with her before she had to get ready for work.

“Barry...you’re stressing yourself out thinking too ahead like that. I love you, but you don’t have to think that far” Y/N frowns getting up from the couch to go get ready. “We can move. If you’re really worried”

“As much as I want to pack up everything and take you out of here. You worked hard to get where you’re at. I can’t ask you to drop all of that” Barry frowns staying by the door watching Y/N grab her scrubs from the dresser before taking one of his long sleeve’s.

“You have no idea how easy it is to transfer. If I got fired that’s a different story...but I’m just telling you. Dropping everything and moving. Won’t be difficult when it comes to my career” Y/N states taking a minute sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m getting tired thinking about it”

Barry knelt down in front of her resting his hands on her knees as Y/N sets her clothes down taking his hands into hers.

“I just want you and the baby to be safe”

“I know Barry, I know”

4

“Would you be fine taking on the night shifts again? We just lost Amber” the chief nurse Taylor asks Y/N as she had just got done settling one of her patients in the ICU. Her last patient of the day.

“Are you asking me to start tonight?”

“If it’s not too much Y/N.”

“If this affects my leave when I hit seven months Taylor—“

“It won’t. I promise” Taylor states as Y/N frowns before taking the clipboard from his hands going to the nurse’s station. “You’re a saint Y/N”

“Buzz off Taylor”

After a week of being on the night shift, Barry didn’t care as he stayed up till 5am to greet his wife. He stayed in the living room waiting patiently when Y/N entered their home looking extremely tired. Barry was about to get up when Y/N drops her things kicking her shoes off before climbing into his lap.

“Hey”

“Hm” She snuggles into his embrace as Barry rests his against hers when she lays it on his shoulder.

“How are you feeling...?” Barry asks before realizing Y/N had fallen asleep in his arms. He smiles picking her up and carrying her to their bed.

After laying her in the bed, Y/N immediately grabbed Barry’s shirt pulling him into her embrace as he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Barry adjusts himself as Y/N held him comfortably.

“Better stay with me all morning...” Y/N yawns a bit holding her husband protectively as Barry moves himself to hold her comfortably.

“You know I’m not going anywhere”

7

“Fuck”

“Barry stop moving”

“Sorry”

Y/N gotten used to taking home suture kits, gauze, and everything she’d need to patch Barry up whenever he got hurt. He didn’t like being in hospitals thinking he’d be found easier there than any other place by his enemies in his past and present.

“Can’t you get...lidocaine?”

“As much as I’m willing to, I would like to keep my job. Getting stuff like that requires my code babe” Y/N states as she was currently stitching up a gash in his shoulder. “Fuck...” she was half way through the stitches when she started crying.

Barry frowns trying to turn around to comfort her when she kept pushing him forward so she can finish the stitches.

“Y/N...”

“Stop I’m fine”

“Baby...you’re not”

“You’re the one bleeding. Shut up”

“You’re the pregnant one”

“And what’s that supposed to fucking mean?”

“So take a minute. I’m not going anywhere and I’m definitely not going to bleed out” Barry states only to hear Y/N cry even more. “Baby I’m sorry just-“

“Let me finish then you can do whatever...” Y/N says wiping away a few of the blinding tears before continuing with the stitches.

When she got done with his stitches and putting the bandage on. Barry took his shirt carefully putting it back on before turning toward Y/N on the bed wiping away her tears as she cleaned up a bit.

“You gotta stop getting hurt”

“That’s hard to do”

“I don’t care. Just try at least” Y/N felt the tears coming up again.

“Okay okay...” Barry rests his hands on her cheeks wiping away the tears as they fell. “I’ll try. I will”

“You fucking better” Y/N rests her forehead against his as Barry moves his hands to her belly knowing sometimes that the baby kicks when she gets upset and he waits to feel them before rubbing circles to soothe. “She’s going to need you to be okay, okay?”

“She?” Barry looks up catching a smile from Y/N as he couldn’t stop smiling hearing that. “Aww...a little girl”

9

“Hey, I got everything ready...whenever you are” Barry says calmly kneeling by the bed on Y/N’s side as she removes the pillow from her face immediately hitting Barry with it. “Okay—I know waiting isn’t the greatest game but, you said once passed the due date you’d want to be induced. It’s been a week passed”

“I know but it’s hard to get out of bed. Give me a minute” Y/N sat up immediately feeling uncomfortable and laying back down. “Guess I’m glued to the bed...”

Barry laughs a bit getting up and sitting on the side of the bed looking at his wife. He thought of something as he suddenly picks up Y/N only to get smacked to be put back down.

“I can easily carry you to the car and get a wheelchair when we get there”

“I hate you”

“But I love you” He smiles catching a blush from Y/N as she punched his arm once to get a point.

After a very uncomfortable car ride to the hospital and finally getting settled on the L&D floor. Y/N had been induced an hour ago and was slowly creeping up to full dilatation when Barry’s phone started ringing.

“I can call back”

“Barry. This is going to be a while...” Y/N smiles reassuring that it’s okay for him to take it.

“Y/N...”

“What? You’ll know to end the call if you hear me screaming” Y/N laughs relaxing in the bed as Barry got up leaning over and kissing his wife before taking the call in the hall.

“This is Barry”

“Barry, you’ve been ignoring me for two months”

Barry froze knowing he shouldn’t have answered. “What do you want?”

“Cutting straight to the chase now are we?”

“What. Do. You. Want.”

“You, what else would I be calling for?”

“Why isn’t—“

“Hank? Oh Barry. He gets distracted whenever on the phone with you. Giving you chances that I’m no longer willing to give.” Cristobal smirks to himself. “Now are you going to listen? Or shall I take away the things you love?”

“I-...” Barry stops himself stepping out of view from his wife. “What...what do you...want me to do right now?”

“You come back to the stash house and take on this hit assignment. But it never truly stops there now does it?” Cristobal laughs a bit before standing to his feet walking over to the edge of the building. “You’ll be working with me until I’m done with you. You step foot outside of my radius. I’m not afraid to end the lives of everyone that has brought change in your life. It would be sad to hear about your daughter not even making it to a month. So, are you going to listen? Or risk it all”

Is there even a choice to be made here? Is there ever really when it comes to his business...

He should’ve left when he first met me. He should’ve.

Fuck.

Once hitting the peek of 10 centimeters, the doctor and nurses started getting Y/N ready as she glanced over to the door of her room expecting Barry to walk in any minute when the discomfort started to become more audible. But nothing.

No one.

“Are you ready Mrs. Berkman?”

“No...” Y/N cries as she was in the hospital she worked at so of course she had people that will support her through this.

But they aren’t Barry...

He didn’t want them to die. He never wants that. He...just...

Wanted a future.

When nightfall came around Barry walks down the dark hall setting his bag down by the patient room’s door before entering. He wanted to wake Y/N up and say goodbye but he knew that would only bring more pain for what he’s currently doing. He took his wedding ring off setting it on the counter next to her belongings.

Barry froze to little whines coming from the hospital crib. He didn’t want to but he had to and he wanted to.

Inching closer to the crib he started to tear up at the sight of their daughter. Barry carefully picks her up knowing it’ll be the first and last of a while comforting the little one.

“I love you...I just want you to know...I love you so much and your mama” Barry whispers before gently putting her back in the crib seeing the little baby card reading it. “Little Robin...”

Barry wanted to spend more time with her but he felt his phone buzz.

C: Time to go

“I love you...” Barry whispers looking over at Y/N before quickly leaving to avoid anything harmful happening.

Five years later...

Y/N jolts awake sitting up in her bed hearing something in the kitchen making her get up quickly but approach slowly. She made her way out into the hall and reach under the console table taking the bat before walking toward the kitchen. When Y/N swung back she stopped when the figure shot his hands up. She stood there confused watching the figure flip the light switch revealing Barry.

“What are you doing here?”

“Y/N—“

“Mama?”

The two froze as Y/N sets the bat down turning the light back off and pushing Barry out of the house through the sliding glass door. The way he came in.

“Y/N-“

“If you found us here, you know where else to fucking find me. Don’t just come unannounced” Y/N snaps closing the sliding door and locking it before meeting her daughter in the hallway.

“Mama...” Robin yawns making grabby hands above her head as Y/N happily picked her up. “Are you okay mama?” She nuzzles into her mama’s embrace as Y/N kisses the top of her head.

“I’m okay, are you baby?”

“Mm...can I sleep with you tonight mama?”

“Of course baby” Y/N smiles carrying Robin into her room.

The next day came around as Y/N glances every once a while from her book to check on Robin who was happily playing on the playground with the other kids. She closes her book at the right moment when Barry sits beside her on the park bench.

“Told you you’d find us. Wasn’t that hard”

“Not at all...”

“So...do I get to start asking questions or do you want to start with the domestic stuff you missed?”

“Um. Anything you want to ask...we can start with that. End with positive”

“Oh trust me. Not all of it was positive” Y/N laughs before leaning back on the bench.

“You still wear my shirts?”

“I have your long sleeves because they are comfortable and nice to wear under my scrub shirt”

“You still have your job?”

“Got promoted. Chief nurse. Which sounds bad but...yknow. My village knows our daughter is my top priority so I get the shifts I want first”

“Congratulations...you’ve worked hard for it of course” Barry smiles getting a confused look causing the smile to fade. “What?”

“Have you been...in the area? This whole time”

“Hm. Not entirely. The first three years I haven’t. Stayed away as much as possible to protect you and...Robin”

“Okay now—I didn’t tell you our daughter’s name. You’re going to have to clear that up before you tell me why you left”

“I should just say the order of what happened. Shouldn’t I?”

“I’m listening” Y/N crosses her arms looking at Barry to start but she immediately looked over to check on Robin seeing her playing in the sand. “I’m listening just—“

“Yeah. I know, anyway...” Barry takes a second to collect his thoughts. “Cristobal asked me to take on a position for him until he didn’t need me anymore. He threatened your lives and you both were at your most vulnerable state that...Hell. I couldn’t change the odds without losing one of you and I couldn’t. Handle that. I can’t live without any of you.”

“As for...knowing her name?”

“I got a few minutes...to say goodbye when all I was going to do was leave my wedding ring. But she started fussing and I didn’t want her to wake you...”

“Hm. You and your soft hands Barry”

“Soft?” Barry laughs. “I doubt. Highly doubt”

“Well. Soft touch...because one of my friends that was rounding on the L&D floor said Robin was the quietest baby and that I knew how to rock her quickly back to sleep...when I don’t remember ever getting up her first night. Someone soothed her...you clearly did” Y/N laughs a bit felt her eyes start to water as she looked away to take a minute. Barry frowns hesitantly resting his hand on her knee thinking she’d swat him away but she took it into her hands squeezing. “I...why didn’t you reach out sooner?”

“Had to make sure the bridges have burned before I came back. I know I missed a lot and that things have changed but-“

“Barry, if you’re going to ask me if I still love you-“

“Y/N it’s okay if—“

“Things did change...but I haven’t stopped” Y/N states seeing Barry always have that confused look on his face as she laughs a bit before letting go of his hand when Robin ran over to her. “Hey baby, you done playing?”

Robin stares at Barry as he didn’t know what to do exactly. She instantly grabbed onto Y/N’s leg giving Barry a glare before looking up at her mama when she rests her hand on her head.

“Uh. I should get going—“

“Mama mama” Robin interrupts both of their thoughts as Y/N picks her up after she let go of her leg and placed her on her lap. She immediately went up to Y/N’s ear whispering to her as Barry looks at the two even more confused.

“Well” Y/N smiles as Robin went back to looking at Barry snuggling up to her mama. “Would you...come over for dinner? We can talk more after”

“If it’s okay with...the both of you”

“Yes!” Robin replies quickly making Y/N laugh before standing up with her in her arms. Barry picked up her book handing it to her as Robin took it to hold for Y/N.

“See you in an hour or two?”

“I’ll be there”

After a while, Barry stood in the living room of Y/N’s home looking at the photos on the fireplace mainly being Robin. The day she was born, first day of kindergarten, and a really adorable one of her with Y/N. He noticed a photo faced down but it was still placed there for meaning. Robin ran over to him tugging at his pants as Barry looked at her confused before watching her make grabby hands.

“You want to look at these too?”

“Yeah!” Robin yells continuing to make the grabby hands until Barry bent over picking her up. “Move closer” she asks reaching for the photos as Barry steps over watching her grabbed the down photo.

Barry started to tear up when Robin flipped it over showing his and Y/N’s wedding photo. Robin instantly rests her head against his shoulder as he held the photo with his free hand. She knew. She knew because Y/N didn’t care about Barry’s past. His past doesn’t define the man she loves. Hearing what he said at the park, only confirmed that. She didn’t want their daughter to not know about him. Y/N just skipped over the scary parts.

Even if she didn’t know if Barry would come back, Robin was told that he’d be back one day. Someday.

“Things may have changed Barry, but I just want to remind you. I’ll always love you.” Y/N tells him as she walks over to the two wiping away his tears. Barry sets down the photo back on the fireplace wrapping his arm around her waist bringing her close.

Robin grabbed onto Y/N’s shirt to keep her there as she wasn’t going anywhere. Barry held the two close to him feeling them hold him. Y/N rests her head on his shoulder feeling him rest his on top of hers.

“Am I going to have to change my last name to yours?”

“Nope. Because that would be unfair to Robin Berkman-Y/L/N” Y/N laughs as Barry let’s go of her to look at his daughter feeling Robin grab his face continuing to stare before suddenly crying. “Aww baby”

“Come here” Barry held her close feeling Robin hold onto him for dear life as Y/N rubs circles on her back to sooth her. Knowing and waiting. Must’ve been a lot to handle.

When the three were settled in their bed for the night. Barry watches Robin snuggle into Y/N as she slept making his heart melt. Y/N reaches into her nightstand uncomfortably as she didn’t want to bother Robin sleeping. She took out Barry’s ring holding it out for him.

“It’s been five years. When our anniversary hits...will you marry me? Again?” Y/N smiles watching Barry take his ring putting it on with a smile as he leans over kissing her lovingly.

Taking that as a yes.

[briefololtragedy]

A small light in the darkness

Oneshot that popped into my head.

Pairing: Sakura x Shisui

Rating T, mentions of war and PTSD

Summary: Shisui couldn’t recognize himself anymore. What was the point anymore. After a night of poor sleep Shisui decides to go to a local coffee shop, meeting a certain pink haired student for the first time.

Word count: 1971

His heart started to race, flashes crossing his mind, he could feel the sweat starting to cover his body. Shisui shot straight up from his slumber.

“It was just a dream. Not real. I’m back home. I’m safe. My family is safe.” Shisui kept repeating to himself. He was no longer deployed, he had come back home a few months ago. Shisui was supposed to be deployed for 6 more months, but he ended up taking shrapnel to his eyes in an explosion.  Thankfully he didn’t loose his eyesight, he was told he was lucky. Shisui didn’t feel lucky, like his sight his life was blurry. Shisui had spent almost a month in the hospital following multiple surgeries. Even there some of the noises triggered memories that were not pleasant. Dr. Tsunade had seen the signs he was exhibiting and placed him into therapy.

He felt like a shell of what he used to be. Shisui couldn’t bring himself to joke, when he did he would remember the faces of the men who didn’t survive the explosion. They were all gathered around one of the fire pits they set up outside, the men had gotten letters from home. One of them was showing off pictures of his new daughter, a bright smile on his face. The solider was due to go back home in a few weeks. Instead of being hugged by his adoring wife and getting to hold his daughter for the first time, he went home in a body bag instead. No cute video to be taken of him seeing his family. Instead she would stand on the tarmac with the other wives. Dark thoughts were overtaking Shisui. He would have traded places with …Asuma, that was his name, in a heart beat.

What did Shisui have to go home to? An empty one bedroom apartment. His cousin Itachi was preparing to get married to his high school sweetheart. Shisui felt his hands begin to shake. Venturing out to his balcony he reached inside the potted plant to grab his pack of cigarettes. It was a bad habit he picked up during one of his deployments. It was still dark out, around 2am. The lighter providing a hypnotic glow as he went to light the cigarette. It burned as he inhaled the first drag, but it reminded him he was alive. As he looked around it was blurry, he forgot his fucking glasses. The blurriness of his surroundings started to take him back. The yelling, the smell of everything burning, how he couldn’t see. It was a surprise attack, no warning.

He let out a yell. Hopelessness overcame him. Before he knew it he was on the floor rocking back and forth. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Why couldn’t he do anything right. Why couldn’t he protect his men. All he wanted was to make sure his family remained safe. That his cousin didn’t have to worry, he deserved to live a life with his loving sweetheart as his younger brother tried to best him. He didn’t want anyone to suffer, he would take all the suffering if it meant others could be happy.

Shisui had to take calming breaths. His heart rate was slowing down. The shaking slowing down. He still could feel the unexplained worry. Was Itachi alright? Shisui grabbed his phone looking at the last message Itachi sent.

‘Just got home from the office. Izumi is making dinner. She says I can’t have any more sweets before the wedding. Stay safe and don’t forget your therapy appointment in the morning.’

Itachi was safe. He was where he is supposed to be. Shisui looked at the time, it was almost 5am. His attack took 3 hours from him. It wasn’t the longest attack, but also not the shortest he has had. Shisui decided to change into sweatpants, a simple T-shirt, and his running shoes. He hoped a run would help clear his mind.

10 miles. Shisui had run 10 miles. His legs ached, his chest was tight, but it was a good feeling. The tingling of his muscles was a welcome feel. He felt more in control of his body. Jumping into the shower to get ready for the day it was like washing some of the memories away. He knew he couldn’t wash them away for good, but even a few moments would suffice. Brushing his teeth he cleaned the mirror and looked at his reflection. He could barely recognize the person staring back at him. He felt older than 33, he could see his scares around his eyes, so faint, but a reminder of his failures. ‘Don’t go there Shisui, don’t ruin your work this morning.’

After getting dressed Shisui looked at the time it was almost 8. He had plenty of time to get some coffee before his therapy session. It had been a while since he last sat in a coffee shop drinking a cup of coffee, watching people hustle and bustle with the start of their day. Mind made up he grabbed his keys and headed out.

Leaf Coffee and Tea was a local shop Downtown, close to his apartment and his therapist’s office wasn’t too far either. Ordering a simple black coffee Shisui settled down into the worn leather chairs by the large windows. He was able to see the pedestrians walking down the street along with everyone in the shop. Men and women in suits came in ordered their drinks and then looked impatient as they waited for their orders. Feet tapping on the floor and occasionally glancing at their watches. He heard a bunch of giggling high school students at one of the large tables in the center of the coffee shop. It was hilarious to see some of the college students glare at the group as they studied.

Shisui reclined his head back, taking a moment to close his eyes and take everything in. The noises around him were almost comforting. He could hear odd bits of conversations. Then he felt it. A pressure on his shoulder. He jolted up, on high alert.

“Excuse me sir. I didn’t mean to startle you. Is there anyone sitting in this chair?” The voice was soft. He looked to his right and paused. The sight before him was familiar for some reason. He had gotten use to the desert that surrounded him, the lack of color. However, it seemed there was no lack of color with the person standing before him. She had navy stockings on, a grey skirt that came mid thigh, her blouse was a dark forest green. But it wasn’t her outfit that packed the color punch, but the girl herself. Her eyes could put a forest to shame with how green they were. Did trees weep, jealous of the emerald color. Her hair was gathered in a braid it looked like, but he had no clue what type, small pieces framed her face, he wondered if she dyed it that pink. When he went to look at her face again and noticed the pink eyebrows and eyelashes he had no doubt her color was natural. She looked like a nature spirt walking around disguised as a person.

“Uh… sorry I didn’t catch that.” Shisui felt like he wanted to kick himself.

“I wanted to know if this seat was taken. There are no more open places to sit. Are you waiting for anyone?” She didn’t look annoyed. She had removed her hand from his shoulder. He then noticed that she carried her own cup of coffee, but also a really heavy looking book.

“No. I’m not saving the seat, please sit down.” She moved like a ballerina, so graceful. Graceful until she flopped herself in the seat.

“Thanks! I got here later than I expected and my usual seat was gone. This coffee shop tends to get pretty busy. I blame my idiot roommate, she silenced my alarm, said I needed to stop studying for a moment. I adore her like a sister, but we have different priorities….” She kept talking and then trialed off.

 “I’m so sorry! I started to ramble, don’t mind me sir.” A blush spread across her cheeks. Good she looked so young, maybe late teens early twenties. He felt like a perv.

 “No problem, it’s nice to have some company. “ Smooth, very smooth. She relaxed at his words. Shisui hadn’t felt this relaxed in…well he couldn’t remember when.

 “Did you just move to the area? I haven’t seen you here before.” She didn’t look up from her textbook as she spoke.

 “No I’ve lived here for some time. This coffee place is new to me. I haven’t been here before. “ his coffee was almost gone as he looked into his cup. He wanted to savor these last few sips and the company he was with. Here he was just a man, talking to a woman (hoping she was closer to the early twenties mark).  

 Before she could ask more questions he spoke. “What are you studying for? That is quite the book you got.” Man could he sound more like an old man.

 “Oh this is just a review book. I’m in my last year of medical school and have to take test before applying to residency. I like to come here and study for a change of scenery.”  She started to pull out a bag full of highlighters, pens, and post its. How could one person need so many pens.

 He didn’t know how to respond. His people skills were getting to almost Sasuke level bad it seemed. He could hear a ringing and then realized it was his phone.

 “Hey Itachi. Yes I’m fine, I went to get coffee this morning. Yes I won’t forget. I have 30 minutes before I have to be there. Who died and made you my mother?” God why was Itachi such a mother hen! Well Shisui knew why and appreciated it most of the time. In all honesty he almost forgot he had a therapy session soon.

 “Yes I can come over for dinner tonight. Do you need me to bring anything? Got it. “ Shisui realized that the woman’s eyes were on him.

 “Sorry about that. That was my cousin. I should probably get going soon.” He looked at his coffee, it was empty. Disappointment filling his cup instead of coffee.

 “Your cousin Itachi, he wouldn’t happen to have a brother named Sasuke would he? “ Don’t freak out Shisui, don’t freak out. She doesn’t look like a stalker.

 “Yes he has a younger brother named Sasuke.” His voice was full of apprehension.

 “Oh my! You must be Shisui! I have been friends with Sasuke since college, well more like Naruto initially dragged him to all of our group gatherings. “ She knew Sasuke and was friends with him, yep he felt like a pervert. However, that meant she was more around 25 and not as young as she appeared.

 “I should let you go to your meeting. I’m Sakura by the way.” She held her hand out. His heart started to race again, but this time it wasn’t surrounding unpleasant flashbacks, but nerves. God his hands were sweaty. The moment their hands touched, everything melted away.

 “ I guess that means I’ll be seeing you around.” Shisui had hope for the first time surfacing. A small light was starting to break through all of the darkness.

 As Shisui walked out of the shop he couldn’t help but look back. She was sitting with her legs folded under her engrossed in her studies. The way to his therapists office wasn’t the heavy march it has been in the past. Maybe he could see if Itachi and Izumi would have Sasuke and his friends join for one of their dinners.

[dreamingofmilk]

Home Cooking Part 1

Synopsis: You’re a great cook, so you want to cook for Bucky. You never knew what good food would do for him.

Honey lemon pepper fried chicken, mac and cheese, collard greens with turkey neck and ham hock, garlic and cheese mashed potatoes, and fresh banana pudding. That's everything you've been cooking since early this morning to celebrate Bucky coming back from his mission. You woke up at 5am and made everything from scratch, just the way your mom taught you. Bucky was always really hungry when he came over, and you've cooked for him plenty of times before, but nothing like this.

You got the idea a few weeks ago right before Bucky left for the mission. He was over your house again, he practically lived there, and you both were cuddled up on the couch watching Project Runway. You'd gotten him addicted and it was your go to show to watch together. You both found the pettiness of the contestants hysterical.

Three Weeks Ago

As you both laid there you heard Bucky's stomach growl. It was so strong you felt the vibration on your back. You laughed, "Damn Buck!" You didn't have to turn around to know he was blushing.

He huffed, "Sorry doll. Do you have any snacks?"

He had already eaten most of your snacks. The man was like a bottomless pit. You shook your head. "Nope, you ate them all last time remember?" He pouted, "Babe! Please I'm starving!" You held your hands up, "Alright alright! I can make you something."

Bucky's smile was blinding. "Thank you babe!" He grabbed you and gave you a few quick pecks, speaking in between kisses. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

You rolled your eyes, "Yeah yeah, let me up." Once you got to your fridge you found the ingredients to make your favorite cream cheese dip, a recipe your dad threw together one day that became a huge hit. You quickly assembled everything, making sure to put extra jalapenos, and put it in the oven to cook.

Once it was done you grabbed a bag of chips and made your way back to the couch. Bucky was practically salivating by the time you sat the bowl down.

“This smells amazing!” Bucky wasted no time opening the chips and scooping a generous portion of the dip. As he did, it created a perfect cheese pull and the steam wafted off. He was unconcerned, he popped the whole chip in his mouth. It’s a wonder the man has any taste buds left.

He chewed a few times then moaned. It was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard, it honestly sounded pornographic. You clenched your thighs together to try to relieve the tension you felt between your legs. Before you could react, he was grabbing another chip and popping it in his mouth. This time his eyes rolled back and he whimpered. “Fuck, baby this is so good!” You were still reeling from the noises he made. You have never seen someone react to good food that way. You felt like your food was turning him on.

After finishing your movie snack, you both laid back down, bellies full of the hot dip. You had to find out why Bucky reacted the way he did. You just found the whole thing interesting. A few minutes after the final credits started to roll, you turned around and looked at Bucky. “So, do you have a food fetish or something?” You didn”t sound accusational or anything, just curious.

Bucky broke the eye contact and you could see his face flush red. “Yeah, sorry about that. I tend to overreact to good food. I’ll calm down with it.”

You were shaking your head before he finished. “No! You shouldn’t be embarrassed about it! I just thought it was sexy as hell! I”ve just never seen anyone react like that before. It was like the food was literally turning you on.”

His face just got redder, “That’s exactly what happens. It’s a side effect of the serum. I was always a very sensual person. Food especially always excited me and I loved to eat before the serum, but now that my senses are heightened I can taste even more now and it’s all so much stronger, so it affects my body way more than it used to.”

You took all of this in and stored it in the back of your mind for later. So your boyfriend had a food kink. If he got this excited about some cream cheese dip, he’d lose his mind over a full soul food meal. You grinned to yourself at the thought. You’d definitely have to try that sometime.

Present Day

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you did your magic in the kitchen. You were already excited to see Bucky after being apart for two weeks, but you also couldn’t wait to see his reaction to all this food. You were so happy that you could do something like this for him. Something that he’d no doubt enjoy immensely. This was a whole lot of work, but Bucky was always so good to you. You wanted to return the favor somehow.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Bucky unlocked the door. You could hear his boots thumping against the floor as he put his coat and keys away. “Y/N?” You didn’t realize how much you’d missed his voice until now.

You smiled to yourself, “I’m in the kitchen Buck.” You felt a surge of nervousness as his footsteps grew closer, his bare feet padding across the wood floors. When he came into view, your instinct kicked in and you immediately ran to him and jumped in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. He was surprised, but he caught you with ease, his strong arms wrapping around you. “I missed you, baby. It’s been a long two weeks.”

You pressed your nose into his neck, breathing deeply. “I missed you too, Bucky. So fucking much.” You both stayed there for a while, familiarizing yourselves with each other’s bodies and scents like you’d been apart for a year instead of just two weeks.

Bucky suddenly perked up, and started walking further into the kitchen, with you still attached to him. “Something smells amazing. What are you cooking?”

You pulled back to look into his eyes, closely monitoring his expression. “I know you are always starving when you get back from missions, and that you appreciate a good meal, so I made you some soul food. The kind of food I grew up eating.”

You hopped down from him and started dishing everything up. “There’s fried chicken, mac and cheese, collard greens, and mashed potatoes. And later we can have banana pudding for dessert.” You made Bucky a plate, piling it high with everything.

Next to you, Bucky didn’t know what to feel. Part of him was so happy, so overjoyed that you took time out of your weekend to make him food. And so much of it! This had to have taken you hours, and you did it just for him. His heart swelled with love at the thought of you working so hard just to make him food. He really had the best girlfriend in the whole world. But, there was another part of him that was horny as fuck. There was something undeniably sexy about his woman spending all day in the kitchen so he’d have a nice meal when he came home. Bucky wasn’t a chauvinist, but the barbaric part of him could appreciate the domesticity of this entire situation.

You handed him the plate with a smile, the sweetest smile. It honestly just made Bucky want to fuck you on the kitchen counter, meal be damned. But his stomach won out. He was starving and all of the good smells from his plate were making him salivate. He’d satiate this hunger so he can take care of the other one after. To show his appreciation, he sat the plate down, grabbed you, and gave you the filthiest, panty-dropping kiss you’d ever experienced. A few minutes of that, and you’d cum on the spot. When he pulled away, he smirked, “Thank you baby. This looks amazing. It makes me hungry for something else too though. I’ll take care of that later.”

Whew! That man was fucking dangerous. You couldn’t even move. Niagara Falls had taken residence between your legs, and you weren’t sure if you could even walk. Tonight was going to be a good night that’s for sure. After Bucky walked into the dining room you made yourself a plate, grabbed 2 beers and made your way to the table as well.

You sat down across from Bucky, and you both said your prayers before digging in. You were just about to take your first bite when all you heard was the dirtiest, filthiest moan you’ve ever heard right across from you. Your head whips up and all you see is Bucky’s eyes, pupils blown wide. He had taken a huge bite out of a chicken breast. His face was flushed, and he was rolling his eyes as he chewed, barely swallowing before he shoveled the next bite in. As if he could feel you staring at him, he took a quick pause and looked over at you. “Baby, this is the best food I’ve ever had in my life. Honestly, thank you so much for doing all of this. I love you so much.”

You beamed, so pleased that he liked your food. “You’re welcome babe, you deserve it. You’re always so good to me.”

He reached across the table and grabbed your hand, “I’m gonna be really good to you later.” He winked and started cleaning the chicken bone. You never would have thought that you’d find watching someone eat sexy, but Bucky proved you wrong. There was something so manly about the way he tore into his food, especially when he really liked it. Every few bites, he’d suck on his fingers, or lick his lips and it was honestly driving you crazy. You could barely focus on your own plate, your hunger for him starting to overpower your empty stomach.

Finally finished with his chicken, he moved on to the mac and cheese. He shoveled a huge portion in his mouth and groaned, “Fuck, this is so good.” By the time he got to the collard greens, he was actively moaning, and you were about to lose your shit. He sounded like he was going to cum just from eating. It was incredibly fascinating, but it was making you horny as hell.

While you were having your inner monologue, Bucky was living his best life. He knew the food was going to be good. You've never made anything he didn’t love, but this was a different level altogether. He had never had food this good in his entire life. Every bite fired off every synapse in his brain, the rush of endorphins enough to make the average man pass out. All it did for Bucky was make him hard as a rock. He'd have to have Y/N cook for him more often.

He polished off the rest of his plate, scraping everything he could into his mouth. The satisfaction was overwhelming, or at least it was until his dick twitched and reminded him of the other hunger he was supposed to be satiating.

He looked over at Y/N. "Come here, baby." His voice was soft, but it was very clear that he wasn't asking. You make your way over to him, your legs weakening more and more by the second. Bucky patted his lap, "Sit right here." You sat down and leaned into his chest as he rubbed your thighs. "Thank you again for that amazing meal baby. It was the best I've ever had."

Your sweet smile just made him harder, and he made sure to push his bulge into your ass. Bucky grabbed your ass and started grinding you on his dick. "But now I'm hard as fuck Y/N. You shouldn't have fed me such good food, baby."

You moaned, the pleasure starting to overwhelm you already. "I just wanted to make you as happy as you make me Buck."

He laughed, "Oh you succeeded babe. Now I'm gonna make you happy." And with that he stood up, holding your ass as you wrapped your arms and legs around him to keep from falling.

"Bucky! Warn a girl next time!"

His laughter carried through the whole house. "Where's the fun in that?"

"You could have dropped me!"

Bucky scoffed, "Please, you know damn well I can carry you with one arm. Don't play that shit with me." He took a short pause before a devious smile appeared on his face. "Matter fact, I'll show you just how strong I am. Especially since you fueled me with all this good food."

Taglist: @aislinnsilver @wawakanda-btch @chaneajoyyy

[rainbowglittr]

Love and Marriage - Chapter 10 (Mature, Minors DNI)

Description:

After a loss in the family uncovers a family secret, Jaleia and her husband Jesse are forced to balance one family crisis after another along with their budding careers and their plans to expand their family. Will the pressure to keep everyone else together ruin their own relationship? Can ruined relationships be fixed before it’s too late?

Chapter 10:

Jesse's POV

I opened the door to our hotel room. I slept on the plane and I was still tired.

"Ooooooh." Diana said walking into the room behind me. We had a two room suite. I turned to Diana.

"Pick whatever room you want, shake out the blankets, and sleep. We got a busy day tomorrow. Or today." I rubbed my face. Diana slept on the plane and now was wide awake, touching everything in the room.

"Di, go to bed, I'm tired."

"Sorry, I'm just so excited. I can't even sleep! We haven't been here in so long. Thanks for bringing me. Oooh, let me take pictures by the window." She ran to the window.

"I'm going to bed, don't do anything crazy. Night." I said.

"Kay, night Jess!" She said

I found the bigger room and collapsed on the bed.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"I miss you already, babe! I couldn't sleep." Jaleia said. I was face timing her before me and Diana left for the day. It was 5AM her time but 8AM in Cali.

"I miss you too, love. I haven't had to go away in a while. "

"I know. I hated it when you lived in L.A."

"Yeah, you kept telling me."

"So what's the schedule like?"

"Today me and Di are hanging out. This week and next I'm working with the new artists. The week after next is when I work with some famous people."

"Sounds fun. I'm going back to sleep. Love you."

"Alright baby, don't over sleep. Love you."

I hung up. I grabbed my wallet and keys and walked out the room. Our suite was nice, it had two rooms, a common area, a bathroom and a small kitchen area. It looked expensive as hell so I was glad that the studio was paying for it. I make decent money but sure as hell not enough to stay here for three weeks. Maybe not even 3 days.

I walked to Di's room and knocked on her door. After the "incident" we've all been more aware of knocking first.

"Di are you done? We gotta go!" I yelled through the door.

"Almost! I just gotta find the right shoes!"

"Well hurry up! We gotta pick up the rental car." I said. Because we were going to be here for a few weeks I got a rental to make it easier to get around. Having lived her before I knew the traffic was going to be shit.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

Diana had not stopped talking since we left the hotel. It was making my head spin. We had just picked up the rental, and now we were now on our way to see the Hollywood Star Walk of Fame. Diana had been bugging me to take her. And as I predicted we were stuck in traffic.

"And hopefully we have time to go to Universal or Disneyland or world or whatever the one on cali is called. I can't wait to take selfies. What do you-"

"Di."

"I cannot wait so see L.A, like really see it.-"

"Diana."

"I'm just so Excited!!"

"DIANA!"

"What?"

"Just a second of silence, please." I said.

"Sorry." She said.

"Don't be, my head is killing me." I said which wasn't exactly a lie but I felt bad for killing her joy.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

We got back to the hotel at midnight. Diana made me feel old. She dragged me everywhere on the Hollywood Stars to find her favorite stars. My feet and back hurt. I was done.

My phone rang and I groaned. I had spread out on the couch in the room while Di took a shower. I looked at the screen. Jaleia was face timing me. I answered.

"Hey Jess!" Jaleia said. She looked like she was in our bed.

"Hey bae." I said, trying to keep my eyes open.

"Awww, you look tired, how was your day? Diana drag you around?"

"Hell yeah! We went to the Hollywood Walk of fame. When I tell you I'm tired. I'm done! It was fun but damn."

"Aww, you're a good older bro. You look so tired. It's adorable."

"Woman, I am not adorable. I'm a man. I'm not adorable. "

"Yes you are! So cute when you're tired. I'll let you get some rest, make sure you call me. I love you."

"I promise I'll talk more tomorrow. I love you, bae. Bye."

"Bye."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The first few days in the studio were great. They knew what they wanted, what sound they were going for and they were already talented in music. There were three artists this week, Alana who was looking for a pop sound, Smoke R&B, Jazmyne soul. We worked on about three tracks in for each of them. When I'm in L.A it's a much bigger song writing and producing team. I got my man Dre, best friend since NYU, who produces, JD, Dre, Mandy all produce, and Mark, Green, and J.T and I all write. We do melodies and help produce as well but mostly we do the lyrics. I produce as well but my strength is in the lyrics. It's a lot of noise in the studio with more six people and usually it's hard to work like that but we've been doing it together for years and we're able to cut through all the nice to get the sound it words we need. We usually work in teams to produce an album.

Diana had been having a good time from what I could see hanging around the studio and watching us work. Anytime I could fit in I took her to different places around L.A, mostly places to eat because that's all we had time for. She couldn't get over the fact I used to live here before I got married. It was so hard to move but I had to, Jay couldn't since she was in her residency. But someday we're moving back. I had Diana on lunch duty, so she could get out from the studio for a moment. She picked up our lunch when it was within walking distance. She didn't mind because she once ran into Luke James and hasn't stopped talking about it since. So she volunteers to get lunch now.

On Wednesday, everyone decided to go out for lunch. I let Diana go with them since Dre was going and I knew he would look out after her like I would. He's known her since she was seven. I stayed behind to finish a track we were working. It was just me in the studio and I was so into working I didn't hear someone enter.

"Jess! How are you?" Imani Redd walked into the room. She was wearing a bra and those shorts girls wear where their whole ass is out. She hadn't changed much since I had last seen her in person except her hair was now blonde. She still looked good. I got up from my chair.

"Hey Imani." I said.

She laughed and said "You don't have to be so formal. We good. You looking hella nice. You didn't dress like that when we were together." She gave me a tight hug.

"What's up?" I said sitting down again.

"I heard I would be working with you and just wanted to swing by and say hello. I know we didn't leave on the best terms-"

"Fucking understatement of century there." I said, crossing my arms.

"But I wanted to make sure we were cool and that you knew how very sorry I am for doing that to you. You didn't deserve that. I loved you, I really did. I hate that I screwed it up, especially for a guy that wasn't even worth it. Are we good?" She said walking toward my chair. She bent down in front of my chair, putting her hands on the armrests of the chair. I leaned back to get her breasts out my face.

"Cause if we're not, I'm sure I can make it up to you." She whispered in my ear. I started to sweat.

"Um, we're good, what's in the past is in the past, there's no need to bring ANY of it back up. I'm actually glad what happened, happened, I wouldn't have met my WIFE if it hadn't." I said, rolling my chair back. She turned around and like I figured, almost her entire ass was out. As she bent down in front of me to pick some imaginary object off the floor, I stared at the ceiling.

"That's too bad," she said, now standing over my legs, putting her hand on my shoulder. "Cause I love to make a man happy and I've only gotten better. Congrats on getting married, Jess. I'll see you later. And please let me know if you need anything." She slid her hand down my chest slightly brushing my crotch. Her hips swayed as she walked out the room. I let out the breath I was holding in. I wasn't scheduled to work with her until the last week I was here but I could already tell she was going to be a problem.

>>>>>>>>

It was past 2AM in the morning as we sat and talked in the studio. Diana had passed out on the couch. All the artists had gone home and it was just Dre, Green, J.D and me left still trying to finish some tracks. Admittedly we stopped working a while ago.

"So you used to bag Imani?" Green said. Green was a 35 year old white guy who slept with any girl who would sleep with him. He's been divorced five times, all for the same reason - infidelity. He was a terrible partner but a great somgwriter.

"I used to date her, yes."

"How was she?" Green asked. Green was also a pothead, and had a few edibles earlier. He was still as vile sober as he was high. I wouldn't let him eat them anywhere near the studio, since I had Diana with me. Usually I didn't care but she was staring to get better and she wasn't going to pick up bad habit now.

"You know I don't talk about women like that. Especially since I'm married. " I said.

"Hmm. Yeah you let your wife whip you. But I would love to get that Imani in the sack. She got it all."

"I'm not whipped." They all gave me a look.

"Y'all think I'm whipped? Trippin."

"Nah, man I hate to say it, but she got you wrapped around her finger. Ain't nothing wrong, that's your girl. But hell yeah you whipped." Dre said.

"I'm not fucking whipped."

"I bet you had to beg her to come here. Especially once she found out about Imani. " J.D said.

"We talked about it but I ain't got to beg for shit!"

"Yeah, okay man." J.D said.

"I'm not whipped!"

"What happened between you and Imani anyway?" J.D asked.

"She did him dirty as hell. Played his ass." Dre said.

"We were engaged and she was cheating on me for months. I only found out because I walked in on her with another guy."

"Damn. She really had you going."

"He really acting like she wasn't shady before that though." Dre said.

"How was I supposed to know?"

"This nigga really gon ask that? She used to "go away" for the weekend and have "late night recording sessions" and never could show him a demo. You know that this nigga right here wrote like seven songs for her? Almost her whole first damn album. She played the hell out of you. I even told your stupid ass that she was doing you wrong. And you ain't want to hear it." Dre said.

"I was young and in love." I said. When he put it like that I did sound stupid for not knowing she was using me.

"More like young and dumb as hell!" J.D said. They all laughed.

"And you had the nerve to be all depressed afterwards, acting like you ain't know she was no good. I got sick of your Mopey ass. I guess the sex was that good. But I got to say you married well." Dre said.

"I did, didn't I? Well it's not like you had it together either. Remember that girl who tried to claim that you were her deadbeat baby daddy?" I said.

"Oooooohhhhh. She was a fucking nightmare. Almost ruined my relationship." Dre said. J.D's jaw dropped. We had met J.D after we got out of college.

"Followed him around campus everywhere. Dressed the kid just like him. You've dated some crazy ones, don't play me like that!" I said.

"Look, I would cheat on my girlfriend just to hit that ass. Imani got that ass." Green said.

"We know." We all said at once.

"I would never cheat. My girl would kill me if she ever found out." J.D said.

"I never want to lose my wife again. Not again. " Dre said.

"You cheated on Eva?"

"Before we got married, we were engaged. Wasn't worth it, it was the worst mistake I ever made. I would never do that again. And Jess is too whipped to even think about cheating. " Dre said.

"Fuck you... But you right about that." I said as they laughed.

"I know what it's like to be cheated on, so I would never do that her." I said.

"But you got to admit that Imani is fine. You would hit that again if you were single. "

"I'm happily married."

"He didn't say no."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"So what are you trying to say with the hook because it's really confusing. Is the relationship worth saying or not?" I said to Jazmyne. We were finishing up one of her songs and the chorus just didn't flow right.

"What I'm trying to say is I don't know what I want from the relationship. I guess I could make that more clear."

"Yeah, I really want that point driven home in the chorus. You're stuck between two feelings and you just want something worth fighting for."

"Oh my God, that's it!"

"Let's try it." I picked up my guitar and started to strum the melody.

Baby I'm stuck in the middle,

Of this one single issue

Don't know what I'm saying

And you seem to think I'm playing

Not sure if I don't want your love

Cause it feels like it's from above

I'm sick of being ignored

I just want a love worth fighting for

I just want a love worth fighting for

Jazmyne sang.

"I love that! I like the switched melody, and I love that new line. You are a freaking genius!"

"Nah, you did all the work. You ready to lay the vocals down for real?" I said.

"Yes!" She went into the recording booth, a couple of takes on the chorus and she was done.

"How does it feel to have all of the tracks to your first album ?"

"I'm so freaking excited! This shit was lit. So what happens next?"

"You're going to pick your favorites, and the ones you don't want on the album. You'll play it for some executives on the label and they'll give you feedback, you skim the tracklist and songs down more, hopefully get it approved. And then work on the cover art. They'll give you a date and some promo, and your album will be released. There's a bunch of other bull in between that but that's really it."

"I'm so excited. Wow that's a lot. But I'm so happy with everything, thanks for your help. Can I listen to them all?"

"Sure, they'll be unfinished of course."

"Yeah, it's fine. Thanks." I handed her some headphones.

Alana was almost done with her album. Jazmyne was done with hers. Smoke however, had a lot more to be done.

Usually writing an album takes several months and it did for them. We were just here to polish the songs they had, write any ones they were missing, and really curate the style they were trying to have and finish the demo album.

It was my second week in L.A and it had been great so far. Last weekend I took Diana to Disneyland and we had a great time. She was such a good sport about being cooped up in a studio for so long I really wanted to do something special. It was Friday night and it was going to be another night spent at the studio.

My phone started vibrating on the control panel. I put down my guitar and looked at screen. Jaleia's face lit up. I answered, propped my phone up nearby and started to strum my guitar lightly.

"Hey Jess!"

"Hey Love, what's up?"

"I miss you. I'm sorry I keep saying it and calling you and-"

"I never get tired of you. Call me anytime."

"How's Di?"

"She's having fun, I'm sure she'll tell you allllllllll about it when we get home."

"I feel kinda stupid."

"Why?"

"I cried cause I missed you so much. The house is a mess, I've been late so much lately. I can't wait for you to come back."

"Aww, I'm sorry baby. It's only one more week. I miss you too."

"I know."

"Did you see all the organization tips I left you? I know it's hard for you to adjust your schedule suddenly. "

"One of the worst parts of ADHD I guess. Your wife's a mess. What's new?"

"Jay, you're not a mess, don't talk like that. What you up to tonight? You look cute." She had a low cut silky night shirt on.

"Um, I am having a sleepover with the girls. I finally convinced everyone. A quiet girls night. Movies, wine, snacks and shit. Should be fun. I'm really lonely, please come home soon."

"I'll be home real soon, alright."

"Oh and Jess? I found your present. And it's beautiful. I'm wearing it now. I always wanted a tennis bracelet! Now I get to brag about how great you are. When you get home, you will get the biggest thank you ever. Whatever you want. Trust me."

"I knew you'd like it. And I'm looking forward to that thank you."

"I have a little sneak peak of something I bought for you." She said and pulled her shorts down a little so I could see the top of her lace panties.

"You like these?" She said pulling her shorts back up.

"Hell yeah, you look sexy. I'm still on the studio Jay, so I gotta call you back. I love you, Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"I really miss you too. You're amazing and I love you! Have fun tonight."

"Love you too Jess! I'll talk to you later!"

[ooohyou]

Submitted to r/nosleep by u/NemesisLuce

Please support the original author.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. Cute little bookstore in a quaint little town. I love helping customers find the right book for their mood. I love showing cute children’s books to curious kids. I love talking with sales reps and figuring out exactly which new releases to order from them.

I also fucking hate my job.

It was ten minutes past closing time, and I had my brightest, fakest smile on while trying to get the last customer out of my store. No sir, I cannot look up a book on the computer if all you know is the cover was red when you saw a poster for it 5 years ago. No sir, “I think it was about the cold war and a detective who drank too much but maybe it was something else” does not help me at all. Look sir, all my historical thrillers are on this shelf. Does anything ring a bell? No? Was it made into a movie? You don’t know? Oooookaaaay then, I’m sorry to inform you that we are already past closing time, here’s the store number, if you remember the title give us a call and we’ll order it for you if it’s still available. Thank you, good evening to you too sir, goodbye. Yes you have your umbrella, it’s right here in your hand sir. Okay bye bye.

I sighed and gave my cashier the biggest eyeroll I could manage before locking the door and turning over the sign that previously said ‘come in, we’re open!’. I heard the coins clanking in the coin counting machine (do these have a name? I don’t know. Coin counting machine is pretty self-explanatory and I’ve never bothered to check if they were actually called that), signifying that Alice had started to sort her cash drawer. I would only need to take out the profits of the day, make sure she had enough cash for tomorrow, and send her home. I went through the motions mechanically, only thinking about the nap I was about to have in the breakroom. It was going to be glorious. I really needed it if I wanted to be alert for the night shift.

Oh, yeah. We’ve got a night shift here. It’s my store’s most… peculiar aspect. We close at 6pm, but we open again at 11, up until 5am. Then we open again at 10am. So when I said ‘nap’ earlier, I actually meant the first half of my night, since I am working both shifts. Yes, I live in my store. Please buy books instead of reading stuff on the Internet, I would really love to be able to afford another employee.

So there I was, counting money fully on autopilot, daydreaming about drinking a nice cup of herbal tea and hugging my pillow, when Alice said something that ruined my plans.

“I forgot to tell you, something weird happened when you were on break.”

I snapped out of my daydream instantly and shot her a questioning glare.

“Yeah, this old lady came in, looking for something about fairy tales. I showed her the section but she didn’t want to have a look there apparently, and she asked me about something from the back. And I was like ‘do you think we’re hiding books from our customers or something’ so I just told her everything we had was on display in the store but we could order any book we didn’t have if she wanted. And she just shook her head and mumbled something and then she handed me this pamphlet and I was like ‘okay feel free to look around’ and didn’t even look at the pamphlet before shoving it in my pocket because a kid entered the store holding an open juice box and that was a disaster waiting to happen so yeah but that was weird right?”

She had actually run out of breath by the end of her sentence, and I wasn’t surprised. I was pissed though.

“Alice for FUCKS sake. Give me the pamphlet, don’t look at it. I’ll write that you were fired because of the store’s financial situation and give you a glowing recommendation.”

All color drained from the young girl’s face. I wasn’t mad at her, but I was still mad. She was supposed to know the rules. Hell, I even had her train the temps we hired to help around Christmas time. In retrospect, it was a miracle nothing bad had happened.

Okay, I was slightly mad at her. But I really didn’t want to be.

I saw in her eyes that it had finally clicked. She understood the gravity of what she had done, and handed me a crumpled pamphlet from her pocket, making sure to avert her gaze. God damn it. She had one momentary lapse, and it cost me a good cashier. Fucking hell.

“I’m sorry…” she started.

“It’s okay Alice, you didn’t mean to. You were alone on the floor, she was an old bat, it could’ve happened to anyone. You’ll be missed around here, but please don’t visit.”

She nodded. She finally remembered the rules, and she understood that there was no other way.

I put the cash drawer in the safe while she gathered the stuff she had left in the break room. I opened the back door to light a cigarette. She had tears in her eyes as she exited the store. I gave her a smile and clasped her hands in mine.

“You were a good employee, Alice. You’ll do great in a regular bookstore. Don’t doubt yourself and avoid this street for a few weeks. Call me if you run into any trouble, okay?”

“Thank you for the opportunity, boss. I really loved working here.”

“I know you did. Now hurry home. Don’t answer to anyone knocking on your door. Be safe.”

She nodded and scurried away, her backpack bouncing with her steps. I crammed my half-finished cigarette into the already-full-but-I-keep-forgetting-to-empty-it ashtray and went back inside.

The pamphlet was sitting on top of the safe, and as I grabbed it I felt the urge to read it. Nope. In the bin you go. I was accustomed to those old tricks. First rule of working with my clientele is to know when you can’t trust your instincts because something’s fucking with them. Second rule is to trust your instincts. Confusing? Welcome to my life.

So I ended up sitting at my desk typing furiously on my computer instead of napping. I still had a few hours until night shift, but I absolutely had to start interviewing prospective employees in the next couple days – in the meantime I just had to hope one of my part-time employees would like to work a few extra hours. I just have too much work to spend all my time manning the register and keeping the tables neat. While the store isn’t that big, it still is a lot for one person.

I obviously had to update the employee rulebook as well. Just emphasize that you can’t take chances with crazy old people. You never know if they’re truly crazy or something else.

“Never accept anything a customer hands you directly if it’s not (real) money. If they’re promoting something, make them leave any cards, pamphlets, posters at the register. If you end up accepting whatever they gave you, don’t look at it, and come to me immediately.”

Yes, it’s weird. I know it’s weird. Look, I pay my employees a fair enough wage that they make sure to follow the rules. I don’t care if they think I’m crazy. I probably am. It doesn’t matter.

I pressed enter and added:

“If a customer asks if they can see what we have in the back, politely decline and offer them to order whatever book they need. If they persist, come get me.”

God damn it, Alice actually handled this part well. But she grabbed the pamphlet, and I had to protect her.

I don’t write the rules to make my employees better workers. I write them to make sure they survive. The main reason any infraction is cause for termination is that, well, it could be the cause for the actual termination of their existence on Earth. Getting fired from a job is a way better alternative.

Alice accepted the old lady’s pamphlet. It could’ve been anything else. A tissue, a cigarette, a glass of water. She unknowingly made a bargain with whatever the woman was. ‘I gave you something, now I’m free to take something’. Entities like the old lady abide by archaic rules. In a store, this is what applies. I lost a regular day customer that way. The poor lady was watching over her kid, who was merrily making a mess looking through the 3-5 years old section, when a young girl came up to her. “Look miss, look I made a drawing”, she said. My customer grabbed the piece of paper and the girl ran off. A couple days later, posters popped up everywhere in town for a missing toddler.

I was obviously pissed. I’d been waiting to see that little girl again and tell her that business rules applied only between merchant and customers and she had no right to force an innocent, unaware person into a contract. My night clientele is well aware of that, and treasure having a place to find literature enough to not risk jeopardizing the fragile balance between both worlds. Nonhumans can be facetious little shits though, and I’ve never seen that girl again. Some entities enjoy chaos just for the sake of it. This one just danced around the rules, grabbed what she wanted, and ruined two lives. My customer sank into a deep depression and ended up gouging her eyes out during a manic episode. Her toddler was never found, but I don’t think he will grow up to be a respectable, human adult.

I checked the time and decided I could get 2 hours of sleep before having to get the store ready for night shift. So obviously I went to check out who – or what – was knocking on the glass window near the entrance because who needs sleep anyway.

It was an old lady, her wrinkled bloated nose pressed against the glass, her skeletal fingers tapping against it in a rhythmical fashion that was getting on my nerves. She had piercing, blood-injected eyes that were fixed on me and a grin so large it couldn’t possibly be natural.

I didn’t have time to be scared, but I still felt the fear creeping up on my stomach, slowly making its way through my body. No matter how hard I tried to reject it, I couldn’t. Stupid human nature. I adorned my best customer service smile and walked up to the old lady.

“My apologies, you seem to be a bit early. We will be open for business at eleven.”

I didn’t need to yell. I knew she could hear me clearly in spite of the glass separating us.

One… two… three taps on the window. Her already impossibly wide grin grew even wider, revealing rotten teeth sticking out of black, putrid gums. Thick, yellowish saliva was dripping down in strands from her non-existent lips. By the time the corners of her mouth reached her temples, I was sure I would lose my fake confidence and run in the opposite direction. No matter how many times you deal with unnatural entities, being mere centimeters away from a nightmarish mouth full of rot and decay will shake you to your core. I tried to breathe calmly, being secretly thankful for the glass that separated me from what was probably the foulest smell I’d ever submitted my nose to, hoping the old lady would see me standing my ground and respect the rules of business. I could deal with her inside my bookstore, where she would be a customer. I just needed to stay brave and meet her transfixed, unwavering gaze. Her eyes were more blood vessels than pupils, and I found myself focusing on those instead of whatever was moving in her mouth. I did not want to see her tongue, not after seeing the state of her teeth. And I sure as hell did not want to see whatever I clearly caught moving around her mouth if it wasn’t her tongue. No, her eyes were scary but I could deal with them, no matter how unsettling it was to see them bulge in and out of her head in a slow motion, almost as if they were breathing. The glass became foggier and foggier on her side due to her heavy, animalistic panting, but I kept my gaze straight, only catching glimpses of fog and movement in my peripheral visions. If I were to treat her like an animal, I needed to assert myself as the alpha. I don’t yield to rude, entitled customers, and I wouldn’t yield to rude, entitled nonhumans breaching the unspoken contract that allowed them to enjoy my store.

After what felt like forever, she stopped tapping on the window. Her grin reverted back to a normal, almost friendly smile. She blinked, soggy wrinkled eyelids covering those eyes I had stared at for far too long.

“I guess I’ll see you when you’re open, then”. In spite of the glass panel separating us, I felt her putrid breath against my ear as she whispered her parting words.

Just like that, she turned and left.

Understandably, I was not looking forward to seeing her during the night shift. My regular customers were unsettling enough, I did not want to add the batshit-insane-nightmarish-grandma to the list.

I’m a business owner. The customer may not be always right, but they are always my priority. I will have to open tonight, because while some may not consider books to be a necessity, I guarantee you that it is vital not only for my business, but for some of my night customers that I open every night. I complain about my life a lot, but some of them face issues they can’t simply look up on the internet nor ask a friend or even a therapist. They may urgently need something from the night inventory, and I will do my best to provide it for them. I’ve always loved being a bookseller, but helping nonhumans find whatever fits their very specific needs has given me a sense of purpose I’m not ready to give up just yet.

I will open tonight. And I will protect my business and its rules, to ensure that I can open tomorrow night.

(Note: edited some words to fit in with the location LOL)

[just-a-starfruit]

The Night Sky

This was my submission to the Ateez Storyboard Contest, unfortunately I didn’t make it through to the final voting, but I am proud of myself for even getting the courage to submit something in the first place. It’s been a few years since I’ve written for fun and not for a school assignment, but nonetheless I hope y’all still enjoy it:’) 

Also excuse me if this looks weird, I have never posted to tumblr, please have mercy on me.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: None, but if there is one you feel I need to add, please let me know:)

Yeosang misses the sight of the stars, the city lights and crowded streets were never something he got used to, no matter how long he had lived in Seoul. He misses mapping those stars, and using them to navigate the Illusion over the vast expanse of the sky. 

 The very sky and stars his mother used to sing him to sleep under, and his father would tell him stories about. The sky was boundless, and full of mystery, but here it just felt like a cage. It felt wrong.

He huffs, pushing open the door to the 24 hour fried chicken take out restaurant he begrudgingly got a job at a year back. It’s not that he doesn’t love the food, hell, he could eat it any day without problem. It’s the stuffy environment, the unreliable coworkers, and the fact that his paycheck never seems to reflect his work. It certainly didn’t hold a candle to his previous occupation.

The only thing that keeps him working the graveyard shift here is that it’s the only job that would take a homeless barely legal teen, who definitely sounded drunk from all of the nonsense he was spewing. When he stumbled into the shop, yelling about how a masked man had taken their ship and he needed help. The employee shot him a weird look but took pity on the teen, and listened to him tell story upon story about the Illusion and it’s crew. They believed it to be fiction, oh, how wrong they were. 

Yeosang slept in the police station that night.

When he woke up, it was early in the morning, sunrise, and Yeosang was startled to not hear the crashing of waves or smell the salt of the air, or see the exact position of the sun in the sky. In a panicked haze, he cried out for help, and the officer on duty told him to settle down to no avail. Yeosang was shaking and sobbing, the unfamiliarity of the world he was in now too much to take in at once. 

When he finally calmed down enough to leave, he was handed a bottle of water by the officer, “Maybe head towards the hospital, get an IV for that nasty hangover.”

The boy just looked at him and left without a word. 

He ended up back at the chicken shop, and the employee who had helped him the night previously, ended up talking to a manager, to give the boy a job and let him crash on his couch if he needed. Yeosang accepted the offer gratefully, and slept there for a month or so, until he saved up the money to rent a shoebox apartment he learned was called a goshiwon. It wasn’t the ideal lifestyle, but it would have to do until he could find everyone else.

The sound of snapping jolts Yeosang out of his train of thought, and he’s met face to face with a not too happy looking man, “Oi, I’d like to order finally. These kids get more and more lazy.”

Trying his best to not roll his eyes in front of a customer, the ex navigator smiles and forces an apology, punching in the order.

It was about 3 in the morning before someone else came barreling through the door, and Yeosang peeled his eyes away from the spider web he had been idly watching for the past hour or so. Then his eyes widened.

“San?”

The man’s eyes met his, and recognition and relief washed over his face, 

“Yeosang! What in the name of selene are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same, how have you been? What are you doing now? Most importantly, where did you end up?”

“I ended up in Japan, in an empty Shinjuku alleyway, but the moment I stepped into a crowded area, I was approached by a modelling agent. I had honestly no clue what was going on, so I accepted. That was four years ago though. I’m here for a photo shoot though.”

Yeosang nearly choked, “Four years? I’ve only been here two.” he then began to tell the former gunner about why he was in a dingy fast food restaurant on the outer streets of Seoul, working the graveyard shift. 

“So if you’re some budding big time model, where is your manager?”

“I ran.” San said, barely above a whisper, as if the walls had ears.

“You what now?” Yeosang was at a loss of words, his mouth gaping open like a hooked fish, gasping for air.

“You heard me, I jumped ship, I felt trapped, strangled by the public to be the new “it” boy of the new generation of models. Most of all, I felt homesick, Yeo, I miss the ocean, the crew, the adventure. None of that is here. So when we were at a redlight, I opened the door to the car and ran as fast as I could.” San stood up at some point, the two having sat at the lone table and chairs that occupied the shop before swapping stories. 

“I see. Have you seen any of the others? Have you heard anything about Hongjoong?”

The model shook his head, “You’re the only member of the crew I’ve seen, I’m sorry Yeo.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room at the news. The strong headed Captain had gone missing just before the masked man arrived, sending the other seven members into wherever they are today. He had seemed distant that whole day before, it had set the crew into unease. About a week prior to his disappearance and Yeosang’s emergence into the modern world, they had a  meeting with their alters that had gone surprisingly well, finally making amends.

The thoughts of the masked man caused Yeosang to shiver. The build of the man was familiar, yet also alien, resembling one of the taller members, even if all of them were in the same room.

The idea of another set of the boys was a crazy thought, but not impossible, as seen by the black clad masked crew of bandits they met with.

San decided to go home with Yeosang when 5AM finally crawled around, despite the tired employee saying time and time again how small his room was. San didn’t care, anywhere but in the claws of his manager and the gaze of the public would do. 

When they entered the housing complex, Yeosang flipped on a small electric kettle resting on a counter, and set a plastic bag from his work next to it. From a small bin resting beneath the counter, he produced two cup noodles and disposable chopsticks. It was definitely different from what the escaped model was expecting, but he could care less, he was starving.

The kettle switched off when the water inside came to a boil, emitting a small amount of steam from the spout. Yeosang peeled open the lids of the noodle cups a little, and poured water into them, then placed the chopsticks on top of the lid to hold it down. He pulled out a pair of boxes from the plastic bag and popped open one of them to reveal wings from his work, then he handed San a cup noodle. 

“Sannie, while I do appreciate seeing you again, you’re sure I won’t get in trouble for harboring a valuable asset to your company?” He shoves a mouthful of noodles in his mouth and winces, he forgot to blow on them. 

“It’ll be fine, I’ll sweet talk my way out of either of us getting in trouble. I ditched my phone in the car, so it’ll take a while.”

He always was one to think ahead, and never made a move without carefully calculating his actions, even reckless ones. The two boys finished their meal in silence, cleaning up when they were finished.

It was an understatement to say Yeosang was relieved to see one of the members again, afterall it had been two years.

Two years of fear and loneliness in an unfamiliar world. As he closed his eyes, he saw the same image he had always seen: an hourglass with glowing sand frozen in place.

[niall-is-my-dream]

Lost Without You - Part Ten

So this is the last part! Thanks to everyone who has read, liked and reblogged this. I appreciate it!

2460 words

But thanks to @beardedniall​​ for helping me.

Catch up below

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/186235732118/lost-without-you-masterlist

6 weeks later

Walking into your flat a week before Christmas felt strange. You dragged your two suitcases one by one up the stairs, and dumped them in the hallway. Removing your coat you realised how warm the flat felt, making your way to the kitchen you saw a note above the thermostat.

 "Put the heat and the hot water on for you, hope it was ok that I used the spare key. Put some bits in the fridge and cupboards for you too. Pop in for a coffee and a catch up when you're free. Audrey. X"

Oh love her. Audrey was too good to you. You felt an overwhelming urge to see Audrey and embrace her and her familiar smell. Remembering how it gave you a feeling of home. 

You weren't going back to your parents for another week so you had planned on last minute Christmas shopping and spending some time with Audrey, Jess and Hannah. There would be plenty of time to see your parents, your brother his wife and your nieces. Niall wouldn't be back until the 23rd which was still five days away.

When you opened the fridge you found butter, cheese, milk and some ready meals. The cupboard had bread, crumpets, some crisps and some snacks. You also found your fruit bowl full. You couldn't believe the trouble she had gone through for you. It also meant you could have a shower straight away rather than waiting for the water to heat up. Which is exactly what you needed.

Opening one of your suitcases you found some pjs and your toiletries. Stripping off your clothes you stepped in the hot shower washing away your day of packing and travelling. You dressed in your pjs and one of Niall's hoodies before heading to the kitchen and popping a meal in the microwave. 

With the meal on your lap and the tv talking to no one, you browsed through your social media whilst you ate. A FaceTime call from Niall interrupted your meal, and you smiled. Swiping to answer it, you saw his face come onto the screen.

"Hey beautiful." He said smiling. He was sitting on a navy blue sofa with a plain white wall behind him. You knew he was in Chicago for one of the Jingle Ball shows, so you assumed he was in a hotel room or dressing room.

 "Hey yourself." You replied, smiling at his cute christmassy jumper.

 "How was your trip back?" He asked.

 "It was ok, quick and easy flight. Not long been home, I've just showered and got ready for bed."

 "Glad to be home love?"

 "Yeah I am, feels weird actually!"

 "Nice hoodie by the way. Been looking for that for weeks!" He replied with a smirk.

 "I may have nicked it from you when you visited me." You grinned back. "It still smells like you a bit."

 "Won't be long now petal, five more days. I'll do the last show in Miami and then I'll fly home straight away after. So I'll see you on Monday 23rd sometime. Not sure what time my flight lands yet."

 "Ok the plan is still for me to go to my parents on Christmas Eve sometime, I can pick my hire car up anytime from 12. Is your flight to Ireland still around that time?"

 "Yeah, 1:40 something I think. I don't know I'm rubbish."

 "It's why you have Tara!"

 "True." He laughed in reply. 

 You heard a knock and a click of a door and saw Niall look up and across the room. The room he was in suddenly became noisy and a familiar voice could be heard amongst the crowd.

"You still talking to your lovely wee lass?!" You heard Lewis ask.

"I am." Niall replied with a smirk.

Lewis popped himself down on the sofa and his face crept into view. You felt yourself blush and prayed you wouldn't fan girl over him again. It had been bad enough when you'd done it six months ago on your first date with Niall.

"There she is!" Lewis said. "This Irish heartthrob has been talking about you all day, said he needed to come talk to you make sure you got home ok."

 "Did he now?!" You laughed.

 "Yep! Been going on and on about you!"

 "Hey give it a rest!" Niall said and you could see him blushing.

 "Oh look, he's blushing now. Been saying how much he loves you and how he can't wait to come home to you so he can make sweet love to you all Christmas!"

"Mate! What the fuck?!" Niall shaking his head. "He's drunk. Just ignore him!"

"Don't deny it now Niall, no need to get embarrassed! And I'm not drunk!" Lewis grinned.

"Fuck off!" Niall smiled back.

"How was your trip back anyway Emma?" Lewis asked.

"It was ok thankyou."

"Good, alright I'll let you love birds have your phone sex and I'll catch you in what three minutes?! You won't last longer than that!"

You giggled as you saw Niall's face turn red.

"Right you, out now!" Niall replied and you saw him point towards what you presumed to be the door.

 "Bye Emma!"

 "Bye Lewis!" You replied still giggling.

You heard the door close and Niall resume his original position in front of you.

 "Sorry about him." He said, his face still red.

"Have you got time for phone sex?" You asked him.

His eyes widened in shock and you could see him trying to decide how to answer the question. It was something that you had explored a few times whilst you had been apart. But it has always been when you were just going to sleep and Niall was in a hotel room. He was in a dressing room waiting to perform that evening, anyone could walk in.

"I have to go for sound check in like ten minutes. But fuck I would if I could." He managed to mumble out.

"Ah that's a shame." You smirked. "Could still show you the good stuff if you like?"

"Yeah?" He stuttered.

"Mmmm." You replied as you pulled his hoodie over your head, revealing just a plain light pink vest top underneath. 

You heard him breath out a huge sigh at the sight of your breasts, just visible beneath your thin top.

"More?" You asked him, as you saw him reach down and adjust himself beneath his jeans.

"Yes." He croaked out before clearing his throat and repeating himself.

Pulling the top over your head you heard him moan out and mumble something about how you were driving him crazy. When you reached across and tweaked your nipple, he moaned again and rubbed his free hand across his face, down his chest and to his jeans. His hand palmed himself over his bulge and he blew out a sigh of relief.

A knock on the door on his end brought him back to reality and he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees to try and disguise his erection. No one entered the room however but someone did call out a ten minute call for his sound check.

"Yeah be there in five." He called out.  

You saw him shake his head.

"I have to go." He sighed. "But I need to go and sort out this first."

And he turned the camera down to show you his big problem.

"Go to the bathroom and let me watch." You asked him.

"Yeah? You'd like that?" He replied, his eyebrows raised.

"Mmmmm." You simply answered with as you stroked your nipples again. He groaned, but quickly stood up and made his way to the ensuite bathroom, locking the door behind him. 

With his phone propped up by the sink, he quickly opened his button and unzipped his jeans. The sight of his thick cock as he pulled himself from his jeans made your core throb.

"Oh baby look how worked up you are." You whispered as you slipped your hand beneath your shorts.

"All for you, see what you do to me?" He replied panting, as he ran his thumb over his bright red tip moving the precum down his length.

"I barely did anything."

"I've not made love to you in six weeks babe, I'm going to cum in like two minutes I'm so worked up by the sight of your tits."

 "Yeah, two minutes? Is that a challenge?"

"Definitely, and you better be touching yourself to." He whispered back.

"I am." You replied and you saw him bite his lip to hold back a moan.

Neither of you spoke again in case someone happened to enter Nialls dressing room. There were low breaths and pants from you both as you desperately seeked your release. Your fingers were running over your clit, while you teased your nipples with the other hand. Keeping eye contact with Niall was hard, your eyes were practically rolling in the back of your head as you got closer. The tightness in your stomach built more and more as you watched him stroke his hard cock with his left hand and tug on his balls with his right.

His movements became sloppy and you knew he was close, the thought of it pushed you to your orgasm and you mewled as you came, your body almost convulsing at the strength of your release.

Low pants of your name from Niall's lips told you he was coming to, and you saw him release his grip on his balls to try and catch the heavy stream of his orgasm.

"Jesus christ." He mumbled as he surveyed the mess in his hands.

"That was about two minutes. Challenge won." You said with a smirk.

********

The Cosy Coffee Corner was quiet today, the early Monday morning rush of commuters and dog walkers had been and gone. Mr and Mrs Davidson had sat at their usual spot by the window reading the newspaper like they always did at least 3 or 4 mornings a week. You'd come down early to offer help to Audrey with the customers, having been awake since dawn. You hadn't been able to get back to sleep after waking up at 5am, your mind filled with thoughts of Niall and his arrival back from Miami today.

You weren't sure how long the flight was or what time you would see him today. It all depended on how he slept on the flight and if he was jetlagged. The sheer desperation to see him was ridiculous.

Your internship at the London office of Foundation Interior Designs didn't start until the new year, and you weren't due to go to your parents until tomorrow. Feeling at a bit of a loss you'd served the familiar customers alongside Audrey and sipped your morning coffee. No one made coffee like Audrey.

It felt great to be back in the safety and comfort of The Cosy Coffee Corner though and Audrey had been excited to see you. When you'd left, it had been the end of the summer, but now the cafe was covered in Christmas decorations. The handmade garland was hanging across the counter by the till. A large Christmas tree took over the corner by the window. The whole place smelled of the usual freshly made pastries and coffee but now with a hint of Winter smells of cinnamon, nutmeg and gingerbread.

 "What time is he due back?" Audrey asked you as she cleared the table next to the counter.

"Not sure. Do you mind if I hang around here for a bit longer?"

 "Of course not love."

The bell above the door jingled and you looked up to see a woman carrying a familiar looking bouquet of flowers.

"Hi, I have a delivery for Emma Pearce." She said.

"That's me, thanks." You replied taking the bouquet. Right on time you thought. Niall had never missed your weekly delivery of flowers since you'd been apart.

Taking the small card in your hand, your saw a printed message.

"To my beautiful girl, can't wait to see you today. Love you. N xxx"

"Wish I could find someone to send me flowers ever week." Audrey said as she came to stand beside you. "These are beautiful."

"I can set you up on one of those dating sites if you like?!"

"Oh god no child, can you imagine the weirdos I'd meet?!"

"Not everyone on them is a weirdo!" You replied sniggering.

"Of course not, but I'm bound to be matched with one. Would be just my luck." She said.

"Didn't know you were looking at dating again Audrey?"

It had been quite a few years since Audrey had lost her husband and you hadn't realised she was thinking about meeting new people.

"Well I'm not really, but it would be nice to go out for dinner and have some male company sometimes. And not like that before you raise your eyebrows at me girl!" She laughed.

"I never said anything!"

 "Go grab a book and take a seat, I'll bring you over some lunch." She said, slowly shifting you out from behind the counter.

"You don't need to do that."

"Yes I do, I haven't been able to mother you for months!" She replied smiling. 

"I've missed that actually." You replIed smiling back.

Placing your flowers on one of the tables by the Christmas tree in the window, you browsed the books selecting one that's cover looked intriguing. Sitting down you started to read, Audrey soon brought you over a sandwich, a gingerbread man and another coffee.

You soon got lost in the book, you'd been reading quite a bit while you'd been away in Paris. It had helped the evenings go quickly when you were on your own. The cafe started to pick up with the lunch time rush, people popping in for sandwiches and coffees from local businesses near by, the bell above the door jingling every so often.

You didn't notice when someone stood in front of you but your head soon looked up when that someone cleared their throat.

Your mouth opened in shock at the sight of Niall standing in front of you. He had on a thick black coat and a grey paddy cap, all wrapped up and cosy from the December weather.

"Is this seat taken?" He asked gesturing towards the seat opposite you.

"Definitely not." You managed to reply, still shocked at seeing him front of you.

You hadn't expected to see him in here, thinking he would probably text you and say he was coming over to your flat or something. He moved closer to you, leaning down so you were face to face, just inches from each other.

"Good." He said as he leaned in and kissed you.

Tag list

@awomanindeniall​

@horanscran​

@flnialler​

@winchesterwife27​

@ihearthemcallingforyou​

@niallismymuse​

@someoneunimportantxx​​

[bitionraingang]

Comes Around

Sorry to whoever will be reading this. It sucks, but I love writing!

The Quiett angst/fluff(?)

——————————————————————————

He was no longer coming home. I’ve waited until 5AM walking back and forth, from our room to the front door. At around 5:30AM, I would rest my eyes for 2 hours before having to wake up again to get our 5 year old son, Dong Soo up for Preschool. I called and called. But all I heard was “Please leave voice mail in…” I’ve called in sick for over 2 weeks now. Every footstep I took back into our apartment was dreading. I constantly looked around hoping for him to magically pop out of a corner, with a big smile, apologizing, saying he was busy. But no. It never happened.

Joonkyung came over a couple of times. Though he was closer to Dong Gab than me, he felt that it was right that I knew. He’s been seeing some girls. Girls who weren’t moms. Girls who weren’t wives. Girls who he felt a thrill to be with because he was taken. He didn’t want to be taken anymore. He didn’t want to be responsible. He wanted his life motto to be “fuck bitches, get money” again. Joonkyung had been a great support for me and a great role model for Dong Soo. I was happy that at least I had a friend who truly cared.

I no longer cried. I no longer sighed. I no longer waited. I was happy. 5 years ago, on the day that I sent Dong Gab our divorce papers, he came back home. He was crying. He only cried 5 times in his life. Once when he was born, second when I said I wanted to break up after dating for 2 years, third when I said yes to his proposal, fourth when I gave birth to Dong Soo, and finally, the fifth when he came back home. He said he was stupid. He begged me to forgive him. But my heart was as hard as a stone. I said no. I waited 6 months for him to come back. But now, I won’t. I was willing to give him the freedom that he wanted from me, from us. But why? Why didn’t he want it now? I didn’t understand. So that night, I did what I gave up on a long time ago. I called my supervisor, asking if I can repeal my decision about the transfer opportunity I was offered. I initially had said no because as a mother and as a wife, I had a duty here. Here in our home, or what was our home. I could not just leave everything or force the other two to leave everything in order for me to move forward with my career. But now, I had nothing holding me back. Leaving Dong Gab in tears trying to envelope my body into his, with all my strength I tightly held onto Dong Soo in my arms and forced off Dong Gab off and went into the taxi. I wanted to cry too because I was scared, but now I had no shoulders to lean on. I had to become the shoulder for our, no, my Dong Soo.

Looking out into the night sky, I took the last sip of my Rosé. I felt peaceful. I felt content. But was I truly happy? The arms wrapped around my waist felt so warm. He had fought so hard to be here. I taught Sociology and he taught Law at Columbia University. I did not want to be in a relationship with anyone after Dong Gab, but Jintae had slowly crawled with warmth into my heart. He pecked my neck, tickling me with his facial hair. I giggled and turned around to face him, his arms still wrapped around me. I gave him a big smile and leaned in to give a peck on his neck.

“What’s keeping you up?” he asked.

“I’ve just been thinking.” I replied.

“Bout?” I could feel his voice rumbling in his chest.

Of course I couldn’t tell him what I had been really thinking about. We were almost like a married couple. We lived together for almost 3 years now and even adopted a dog with Dong Soo.

“Let’s go back to bed, I’m tired.” I pulled him towards our bedroom, trying to change the subject.

“Okay,” he never said no to me. Whatever I wanted, we would do.

I laid down towards his side of the bed so I can cuddle to his warmth. He was always warm. So it always had me wondering, would his warmth eventually cool down as well? I haven’t thought of Dong Gab since I moved back to New York. Everything was just so hectic. The explaining I had to do to my parents, friends, getting ready for a new job, taking care of my 5 year old son… it was a lot to deal with at first. Now that I think about it, I had left my home in New York to get married to Dong Gab and 5 years later I’m back, leaving what I thought became my home to get away from Dong Gab.

I loved waking up to the sounds of Jintae and Dong Soo laughing. Jintae took care of Dong Soo as if he was his. It was quite amazing to see the type of bond they have. Their relationship was more about being a father and son. It’s almost as if they were soulmates who understood each other 100% (which sometimes made me jealous). I walked out of my bedroom towards the sounds of laughter in the kitchen. There they were, my two most important people at the moment, laughing over nothing, just making pancakes. Quickly walking towards Dong Soo, I grabbed his cheeks and gave him a big smooch. My big boy who was 10 now still loved my kisses. With his bright eyes, he looked up smiling and said,

“Mommy sit down, we’re making you breakfast with the new recipe we got from Desert Master.”

It was their thing. To watch Desert Master, find a new recipe, and make it for me. Suddenly, Dong Soo said he left an important note for us from school in his room. I lightly tapped his cute bottom so he would go get it and show me. I looked up at Jintae who had been looking at me with a huge grin ever since I walked out of my bedroom. I walked towards him and gave him a hug from the back. I stood there for about a minute, just breathing in his scent.

“Good morning,” I mumbled.

“Good morning. You get more and more breathtaking each day my queen” he replied with a sly smile.

“Stop it” I groaned and reached up to peck his lips.

He snapped around to grab my chin up towards him and gave me more than a peck. I was laughing into the kiss, trying to shake him off before Dong Soo got back. Me trying to break away would only cause him to tighten his grip on my chin. Just as we could hear Dong Soo loudly explaining the reason for the letter, we broke away. I was going to turn to Dong Soo as Jintae held me back and whispered into my ear,

“I’ve been waiting for so long. That was only the beginning. Be ready for tonight.”

With rosy cheeks I looked at Jintae and elbowed his side. We haven’t had sex in over a month because of Dong Soo starting middle school in September and us, preparing the syllabi for our own classes in the Fall. So I guess, I was craving him too.

After having somewhat burnt yet, delicious pancakes for breakfast, I made my way to the bathroom to get ready for a quick check in meeting with the Sociology Department head in a few hours. Dong Soo was in the living room watching Stranger Things 5 on Netflix and Jintae was sitting on the closed toilet next to the mirror which I was standing in front of.

“So what was it you’re exactly doing with her today?” He asked.

“We’re just going over the syllabus and talking about the class structure for the year because you know who fucked up last year.” I replied.

The last semester, a colleague of mine had sexual relationships with multiple students in his class and was teaching anything, but Sociology during his lecture. So at the start of a new semester, the Department Head wanted to meet up with every single professor in her department to make sure nothing like that ever happens again.

“Right… Sociology people are so weird.” He said trying to tease me.

“Yeah, but you’re in Law you doodoo head.” I snapped back at him.

“Yeah, but you love this doodoo head.” He said while laughing.

As I closed my foundation cap, I looked at him in the eyes and said,

“Do I?” And walked out of the bathroom.

Jintae just smiled at me as he watched me getting dressed.

“Can you stop staring and smiling at me like a creep.” I complained.

“I’m just so excited for tonight. I can’t help it.” He replied.

Saying goodbye, I walked into the elevator. 34 floors later, I was out, walking the streets of New York City. The weather was still warm though it was late august. I had a good amount of time before my interview so I decided to walk instead of taking the train. Columbia was just 30 blocks away from my apartment so it wasn’t that bad.

15 minutes into my walk, Spotify just happened to turn on a song with a familiar voice. I guess it was his new album or something. After leaving Korea, I made sure to block him out of my life in any way possible by getting rid of social media and mutual friends. I was contemplating whether or not I should skip the music, but I realized it wasn’t his usual upbeat kind of song. Without the song even starting yet, it seemed to have a deep and heavy feeling to it. I turned to look at the title and it was “All These Girls.” Feeling my throat tightening I quickly skipped the song. Just another song about women. Even after all that has happened with his ex-wife, he still felt comfortable enough to fuck other bitches? I guess I really meant nothing to him. Tears were about to escape my eyes, still broken over what happened. But I was stronger now. I can’t let this affect my life. So with stronger strides, I walked towards the university.

After about 30 minutes, I was finally in front of the main entrance. I smiled at the security guard and made my way to the Sociology department. And just so happens that Dong Gab was there. I could feel my eyes go wide as I saw him from afar. Just as he was about to turn towards my direction, I quickly ran past him and beeped myself in. Why was here? Was here to hook up with some college girls? Was he here to filming something? I took out my phone and did something I haven’t done in over 5 years now. I looked up his name on Google. The first thing that popped was: “Illionaire Records The Quiett becomes Professor Shin.”

It felt very suffocating to hear that. Here I was sitting on a bench right in front of the Department Office just contemplating whether or not I should quit. In the article, apparently they were staying here for half a year to teach the Sociology course on how music affects people. If he were to do that, then obviously we’re going to have to see each other since we’re in the same department. Then he might try to get back into my and Dong Soo’s life. That can’t happen. Alright, so today at my meeting, I’m just gonna tell the Head I can teach this year. And maybe I’ll come back next year. Yeah that’s what I’m going to do becau…

“Excuse me?” Someone asked as they tapped my shoulder.

Too deep in thought, I couldn’t recognize the voice and looked up. Oh shit. Just fuck my life. This is great.

“Y/n? It’s you right? Y/f/n? It’s me, Joonkyung. Remember me?” He asked frantically.

Of course I remember you, you retard. How could I forget. You know what, I’ll just pretend to be someone else and just walk away. I’ll go and tell her right now and just go home and everything will be okay.

“I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person. My name is not Y/n, it’s Audrey.” I replied as calmly as I can.

“Stop lying, I could see right through you. Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for so long.” Joonkyung said with a look of concern and a tight grip on my arms.

Fuck. Is this where it all ends? No, if I tell him to not say anything to Dong Gab, it’ll be okay. Maybe I’ll take him out to dinner or something. Just as long as Dong Gab doesn’t know.

“Sorry, Joonkyung. I just needed to get away from him. And the only way I could do that was by cutting everyone off. But hey, can you not say anything to him? Like we can have dinner or something and I’ll explain everything to you. Just please, please don’t tell him.” I pleaded.

I knew I was begging to the person who was more than a brother to Dong Gab, but this was the most I can do to save myself from going through hell again.

“Alright… just give me your number… I’ll call you. Dong Gab is in the bathroom right now and he should be getting back soon. So hurry up to where you need to be.” He said while glancing behind himself.

I lightly jumped up at the sound of footsteps coming towards us and the voice I no longer wanted to hear saying,

“Joonkyung, the bathroom here is clean so you should go when you can.”

I couldn’t bare to look at the person walking closer so with my head hung low, I swiftly ran into the department office. With the door to my back, I heard his voice mumbling asking Joonkyung who he was with. Letting out a huge sigh, I walked towards the Head’s cubicle.

I had originally asked if I can get the year off due to personal reasons. She says she would’ve said yes to me, but there were already 6 Professors who won’t be in for the first semester because they were due to give birth. So instead she said I can have off for the second semester. Either that or she would take my year leave for an eternal leave from this university. I couldn’t have my job to go away in a snap just because of him. So what did I do? I called Joonkyung.

After waving at Joonkyung through the cafe window, I pressed call.

“Hey babe, when you coming home?”

“Jintae, something came up so I’ll be home a little but later. That’s okay right?” I asked.

“Yeah, just let me know when you’re getting home so I can drop off Dong Soo at Chris’ house.” He replied.

Right… today was going to be our “date night”. I just know I won’t be in the right mind today and I don’t want Jintae to suspect anything…

“Umm… Jintae, I’m really sorry, but I’m very tired from the meeting today. Is it okay if we moved it? I feel like I won’t be in the mood and I don’t want you to feel like it’s because of you.” I said apologetically.

There was an awkward silence for about 30 seconds before I cleared my throat and called his name.

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Just let me know when you’re getting home.” He seemed to reply with a sigh.

“Yeah, I will. Love you.” I said as I hung up.

I walked into the cafe and sat across Joonkyung. He gave me a tight smile and clasped his hands together. After the waitress took our order, I finally looked at him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I said, feeling tears welling up.

“Hey, don’t be sorry. I know why you did that. I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything.” He said as he grabbed my hands.

“I just couldn’t take it. I waited for him to realize that he was leaving me, leaving Dong Soo, leaving us. He basically gave up on our family. I gave up everything I had to be with him. Joonkyung, I was 21 when I got married to him. He was 37. I thought he would be the mature guy he was when we were dating. But it seems like the lyrics in his songs were right.” I cried.

“I know, but the lyrics thing was wrong. He always loved you. He still loves you. But I think it was the stress catching up to him.” Joonkyung said carefully.

“He didn’t come home until I was done. You know when he came back? When I sent him the divorce papers.” I said.

“I know. I was there. We were in the studio and I was telling him to go back home to you guys. That he shouldn’t be doing this. Once I brought the papers to him, he jumped up and ran home. He didn’t even take his car. He ran home Y/n. And you know what running means for Dong Gab.” Joonkyung said taking my hand into his.

My chest tightened at that. I still loved him, but there was no way that I would be able to forgive him. I looked up at Joonkyung and said,

“That doesn’t matter anymore. I loved him. I’m pretty sure that I still do, but I don’t want to go through this whole drama with him again.”

“But don’t you want closure? Y/n, think about Dong Soo, doesn’t...” Joonkyung spoke softly.

“Dong Soo doesn’t even remember who he is anymore. Joonkyung, I’ve been with someone for quite some time now. He takes care of my son like he’s his own. Jintae will be more than what Dong Gab can offer.” I said fiercely.

“You’re meeting someone else?” He asked.

“What am I supposed to do? Live like a nun after my failed marriage? Joonkyung, I know you’re doing this because you really care, but right now, I’m happy with the family I have right now. Jintae is amazing to both me and my son. There is nothing more I could ask for than having Dong Gab turn down his position as a professor.” I said.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that to hyung. He’s excited to become a professor here. As much as I love you and care for you, I can’t do that hyung who’s always been there for me” He replied.

I sighed and said, “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that I don't know what to do anymore. My life finally is getting better and here he comes like a storm again. Literally a quiet storm.”

“Hey, but everything happens for a reason. Whether you guys meet again or get back together will be in God’s hands. So don’t try to change fate” Joonkyung said with a warm smile.

After some silence, I asked, “He’s moved on right? I just happened to hear the intro to a song that was recently released, though I didn’t listen to the whole thing, I could tell it was about his girls… you know I was always scared that his lyrics would become true? But I never told him because what if that planted a seed in him to actually go on with that act?”

Joonkyung shaked his head and sighed, “You’ve got it all wrong. ‘All These Girls’? That song is about you. He wrote that in regret. While I was mastering the song he said he hoped that you would listen to the song and come back to him. I told him the title was a bad choice, but he wanted to keep it like that.”

“Well, I saw the title and immediately turned it off because I was mad. Thinking how could he just continue with his actions just like that.” I said.

“You know, you guys are technically still married?” Joonkyung brought up.

“What? What do you mean?” Confused, I looked into his eyes.

“After you guys left, he never signed the papers, he put it in the paper shredder. So you guys are technically still married.” He explained.

It still didn’t make sense to me how when someone was given the freedom they wanted, they didn’t take it. Tears started welling up in my eyes. I lightly gasped, feeling my chest tighten with pain from the situation.

“Y/n, no matter how much you deny it, I can tell, the whole world can tell that you still love Dong Gab.” Joonkyung said as he got up and took a seat next to me. He lightly pulled me into a hug and stroked my hair.

“I just want the best for you both, but I know and even you know that you don’t want it to end like this. Dong gab hyung feels the same way.”

Joonkyung held me in his arms until I could look up without having tears well up in my eyes. After 3 hours of catching up, Joonkyung drove me home.

“Why do you have a Bentley here?” I teased him.

“Hey, a man’s got to be ready to take any of his ladies home.” He said with a smile. We finally pulled up in front of my apartment and I got out of the car. He walked from the driver’s side to the passenger side and pulled me into a hug once again.

“Just think about it okay? Don’t think about anyone else, but yourself. Ask yourself if you want to be with Dong Gab or not.”

I returned the hug and said, “Thanks Joonkyung. I had fun today. Don’t forget to give me a call sometimes.”

We released each other and just smiled under the shining moonlight. As he gave my cheek a friendly peck, I felt a presence right behind me and heard,

“Who is this Y/n?”

“Oh, Jintae. Dong Soo, where you guys coming from?” I asked slightly caught off guard.

“Y/n, I asked who this was.” Jintae said slightly angered from the sight he witnessed. I could see Dong Soo somewhat hiding behind Jintae.

“Oppa, this is Joonkyung oppa. He’s a friend of mine from Korea. He’s always been like an older brother to me and we happened to meet today at school.” I explained.

“Dong Soo, do you remember uncle Joonkyung? He was the first person to take a picture of you when you were born. He also helped feed and change your diapers when you were a baby.” I said waving my hands towards Dong Soo so he could come closer.

I saw the Jintae’s grip on Dong Soo’s hand loosen as Joonkyung stepped closer to see Dong Soo.

“Hey man, you remember me? Wow, you’re almost as tall as me.” Joonkyung laughed.

I was surprised to see Dong Soo jump into his arms. Joonkyung looked equally surprised.

“Uncle, where have you been? I missed you. I missed you and daddy.” Dong Soo cried.

My eyes widen at his words. Did Dong Soo remember them all this time, but I hadn’t said anything. Why hadn’t he said anything? Tears were welling up once again as I saw my crying son being held in the arms of his crying uncle. I couldn’t help but to question if all of my actions were done out of mere selfishness. I came to a realization that I had physically ripped my son that I loved so much from his father whom Dong Soo had loved just as equally. Joonkyung was crying softly murmuring apologies into Dong Soo’s ears. I turned towards Jintae who looked very lost. Thinking back, over the course of years of being with Jintae, I realized I have been trying to fill up Dong Gab’s empty spot with Jintae and have been deceiving myself to think everything was fine. But now, I knew that after today, I would have to clear things up with him.

After all the chaos that happened, Dong Soo was in his bed sleeping while Jintae and I were seated on the couch of our living room. There was silence as we didn’t know how to start the conversation.

“I…” Jintae and I said at the same time.

“You go first.” I said.

“No, you go.” He replied.

Taking a gulp of my own saliva, I started with, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” Jintae asked.

“I think I’ve been deceiving myself to protect myself from getting hurt.” I replied.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his face cringing with a hint of hurt.

“Jintae, I’m really thankful for everything you’ve done, for me and Dong Soo, for everything we’ve gone through, but I don’t think I loved you. There were times where I did feel flutters in my heart, but I think I missed Dong Gab so much that I was trying to replace you in my heart.” I said crying.

With desperation in his voice, Jintae said as he grasped my hand,

“No, baby. You’ve got it wrong. I love you and you love me. We’re gonna get through this. It’s just because you were reminded of your past today and Dong Soo crying like that, that you feel this way.”

“Oppa, I’m sorry, but I don’t love you. I loved the idea that someone else was in love with me even after all that had happened in my life. I know how much it hurts to be in the position of not being loved by the person you love so I think we need to end this here. I don’t want you to be hurt.” I cried as I pulled him into a warm hug.

“But, think about all the things we went through. If you feel like you don’t love me anymore then, think about the times we had love. I can’t let you go like this.” Jintae cried into my hair as he tightened his grip on my waist.

I could only cry along with him because I understood the emotion of pain he was going through. No matter how much I am grateful for Jintae coming into my life, I couldn't deny the fact that I still did love Dong Gab 5 years after we had “broken” up.

I woke up to the sunlight slowly creeping its way into the bedroom. I turned my body away from the window and faced Jintae who was sleeping next to me. After our long talk yesterday, we had decided to break up. So today would be the last day as being a couple. I shifted myself closer to his body and wrapped my arms around him. As I peppered light kisses on his shoulder, I muttered apologies.

“It’s going to make it harder for me to break up with you if you keep doing that.” I heard Jintae say without moving.

I giggled lightly and removed my arms from his body. I sat up and pushed his disheveled hair out of his face.

“I’m sorry oppa.”

“It’s okay, as long as you were honest with me, I’m okay.” He replied, finally opening his eyes.

How was someone able to be so understanding and warm even if they were thrown off the bus? I really didn’t deserve someone as good as him.

I reached down to give a peck on his lips and said,

“Let’s get up and talk with Dong Soo.”

“I thought we’re breaking up, how can you kiss me like that?” Jintae asked with a smile.

“We haven’t broken up yet so I still can.” I replied as I got off the bed.

We ate at a local diner in front of our apartment as we explained the situation to Dong Soo. Dong Soo also shared his part of why he hadn’t said anything about missing his dad, he didn’t want to see me sad after he did once when he was younger. Hand in hand, we walked back to our apartment. Today was the official last day of Jintae, Dong Soo, and I being a family. I had planned to move out of the apartment with Dong Soo, but Jintae said he would because it would make the move easier and make it easier for him to adjust to living alone.

Hot tears dropped to my chin as I watched the scene of Jintae giving Dong Soo a big hug.

“Hey man, make sure you’re always good to your mom. And remember me leaving doesn’t mean that you can’t call me or come see me when you want to. No matter what I’ll always be here for you. Alright?”

“Thank you dad, uncle Jintae you will always be my second dad.” Dong Soo said.

Jintae smiled with tears in his eyes as he faced Dong Soo. He slowly got up to my eye level and pulled me into a hug. I burst out crying once again.

“I’m so sorry oppa.”

“It’s okay, baby, you’re going to be happy. I’ll be happy too okay?” He said as he pulled away from the hug. I placed my hands on his cheeks as I gave him a warm kiss before he could leave. After a chaste make out, we finally pulled away.

“I’ll get going, make sure to keep in contact!” Jintae said as he walked away waving at us.

Dong Soo gave me a side hug as we watched Jintae get into the uber that would take him to his new place.

Dong Soo and I were cuddled up in my bed after Jintae left.

“Honey, did you miss daddy very much?” I asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” Dong Soo answered with a shaky voice, trying hard not to cry.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t know that. We’ll meet daddy soon okay?” I said as I pulled his head towards my chest.

“Thank you mommy.” He replied as we fell into a 3 hour nap.

It has been 3 days since Jintae left and we were doing fine. With deep breaths I pressed the button to give Joonkyung a call.

“Hello? Y/n?” He picked up.

“Hey, oppa. Can we meet up?” I asked.

In less than 30 minutes, Joonkyung was outside waiting for Dong Soo and I by the passenger side of his Bentley.

“Sorry, we didn’t have enough time to get ready when you said you’ll be here in 20 minutes.” I said.

“No, mommy it was just you. I was done in like 5 minutes, you took the extra time.” Dong Soo said wittly.

Joonkyung laughed as he gave Dong Soo a hug and proceeded to give me one while placing a peck on my cheeks. We all got into the car and went off to our destination for some late lunch.

After placing our orders Dong Soo was off to the kids play section. Joonkyung looked up at me with anticipation and said,

“So, what’s up? I had to lie to Dong Gab hyung to come meet you.”

“Well, first, Jintae and I broke it off.” I said and proceeded to explain everything that had happened after he left that night.

“I mean, I’m happy that you’re happy, but does that mean you’re going to meet Dong Gab hyung now?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I answered truthfully.

“I know we have to meet for the sake of Dong Soo, but I don’t know if things can ever be the same again. I still love him, but I don't know if I’m ready to go back into a relationship with him.”

“I think that’s fine. You don’t have to push yourself to get into a relationship with hyung, but you should clear up things with him for the sake of your son. He misses you and Dong Soo a lot.” He answered.

“But, I also don’t know how and where to get started with him. It’s been such a long time. I don’t even remember his phone number anymore.” I said.

“I guess it was a great idea for me to actually calling him to come here. Sorry, but before I left, I told him to meet me here. He thinks I’m grabbing lunch with him, but little does his know…”

“You called him here? Joonkyung, what if I called you to say I don’t want to meet him anymore? How could you do that?” I asked.

“I already knew where your heart stood after that night. I just wanted you to sort it out first and then let me know. You better thank me for this later on.” He said with a smile.

It was any minute that Dong Gab was going to walk through that door. Joonkyung gave my hand a squeeze as he knew how nervous I was becoming. Then we heard a ding as the door opened, indicating someone walked in.

“He’s here. Hyung!” Joonkyung said as he gave my hand another squeeze.

“Sorry I’m late, there was traffic on the way here. Oh, didn’t know you had company.” I heard Dong Gab say. My back was facing towards the door so all I heard was his voice. He sounded the same from 5 years ago. I couldn’t help, but wonder how he looked now.

“Hello, I’m Dong Gab, I didn’t know Joonkyung had company.” He said.

I saw Joonkyung smile a little and look up at Dong Gab.

“Hyung, don’t be too shocked.’ Joonkyung said as he signaled me towards Dong Gab with his chin.

I slowly turned to face Dong Gab, I could see his face change from a nonchalant look to a look of surprise as he realized who I was.

“Hey.” I said with a tight smile. Tears were brimming up in the lines of his eyes and he took a deep breath and pulled me into a hug. I didn’t have the courage to return the hug, but I softly sobbed in his arms. All sorts of emotions ranging from happiness to sadness to anger poured out.

I could hear Dong Gab sobbing as he buried his head in the crook of my neck.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I’m so sorry. Baby, please forgive me for everything. I missed you so much. Baby I’m sorry.”

“Daddy?” a soft voice called.

Dong Gab slightly released me from his arms and turned towards the soft voice.

“Soo, baby. My baby. Daddy is so sorry. I missed you so much baby. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” Dong Gab cried as he reached down to pull Dong Soo into a tight hug. I could only cry as this scene played out in front of me. Joonkyung got up from his seat and pulled me into his embrace. After everyone had calmed down, we all took our seats to eat. I watched Dong Soo eat happily as he told his dad everything that went on for the past 5 years. I couldn’t eat as I was still overwhelmed with the situation and just watched the two happily conversing. From time to time Dong Gab would look up at me with sad eyes. Joonkyung lightly elbowed me so I would eat and I just gave a small smile back. After lunch, Joonkyung proposed to take Dong Soo on a shopping spree “to make up for the lost years” so that Dong Gab and I would have some time alone.

We were seated side by side on a bench at Central Park. There were children running around with their parents, couples strolling in the sun’s gaze, tourists on horse carriages. Everyone seemed content with the beautiful weather and situation except for us. We were still caught up in the past, not knowing where to start.

“I know I don’t deserve to say this, but I’m sorry and I missed you. A lot.” He said.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Went my heart. It was no lie that I still loved Dong Gab. But will I be able to forgive him was the question. I heard him shift closer to me and I just sighed looking up to the sky.

“I know saying sorry won’t fix anything, but I don’t know how else to express myself.” He said.

“After Dong Soo and I left, I cut off all social media and contact with anyone that had connections with you. I didn’t want to be reminded of you in any way. You know, I waited. No, we waited 6 months for you to come back. I know it must’ve been hard for you to be tied down after long years of being so free. So that’s why I waited. Because I knew you didn’t mean it. But when my river of hope was brought to a drought, I couldn’t do it anymore. Dong Gab, I was 21 when I got married to you. You were 37. I left my home in New York to get married to you and there I was, 5 years later I’m back, leaving what I thought became my home in order to get away from the very reason to why I came.” I started.

“I know. And I will never be able to forgive myself for hurting you.” He interjected while grabbing my hand.

Holding in my tears, I said, “I didn’t understand why you left and then tried to come back when I gave you your freedom. That’s why I’ve been mad. I was sad and upset about you cheating, but more mad about the fact that you came crying when you finally got what you asked for. Dong Gab, did you even love me? Or did the thought of someone leaving you make you want to come back?”

“Y/n, I’ve loved you since the very first time I laid my eyes on you. When I saw you get into that white G-Wagon on that day, I knew that I needed to have you. I still love you. I know I hurt you to the point where it’s indescribable I don’t fully understand why I did that. I think it was because I knew or felt like you would always be there for me to return to. But after seeing the divorce papers, I knew I fucked up. I couldn’t do anything to turn you around. I’m sorry Y/n. He cried.

“After I moved here, there was a man. He taught me to love and be loved again. We were so happy. He was so good to Dong Soo, treating him like his own son. Jintae loved Dong Soo and I so much that he let us go back to you oppa.” I said finally returning the grip he had on my hand. Shocked, Dong Gab lifted his head, face red from crying. I slowly let the tears drip down to my cheeks as I pulled his face closer to mine.

“Meeting Joonkyung reminded me of how I have yet to learn to unlove you. I hate you for everything you’ve done, but my love for you is so much bigger than that.” I said before placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

I slowly pulled away, as he kept pushing in, almost as if he didn’t want to move away from my warm lips. We smiled at each other with tears brimming once again. He said, “I love you” before cupping my cheeks and pulling me into another warm, deep kiss.

[mrsrhys23]

Snapshots 2

So this one is a belated birthday present 🎁 for @desireepow-1986

I’m using some prompts from 40 slice of life prompts

Paring: Colt x MC

Word count:

A/N: all characters belong to Pixelberry.

Permatag: @cordoniaqueensworld @desireepow-1986

RoD tags: @troublemakerinspace @lovehugsandcandy

#2: Morning routine

5am was the time Colt and Elie’s mornings started. They got dressed into gym gear, packed a bag and out the door they went. They were that couple that went to the gym together everyday but like Colt and Ellie liked to remind everyone it took a conscious effort to look that good and besides with all the junk food they scoffed in a day it was a miracle they both kept their impressive figures. So like every morning, they headed on out.

When they arrived at the gym they locked their bags safely into a locker, grabbed their bottles of water, headphones and phones and headed in. They both got onto the treadmill, adjusting the settings so it was going at both of their desired speed after putting on songs that make the both of them feel motivated, ready to get started.

At that time of the morning the gym was completely deserted, it was only Colt, Ellie and a few others. The morning was the perfect time to do this, Ellie found something quite nice about doing something so active first thing in the morning, plus she was locked into a competition with Colt on who could do the most steps in a week. So far, Ellie was winning, yes, she’d attached the thing to a whisk when she was baking, but she was still winning nevertheless.

After the gym, the pair headed home, showered, got changed and then ate breakfast. It was Saturday which meant they were having waffles that morning, hell, they had waffles most morning anyway, it had stopped being a treat quite a while ago. It was the weekend they had nothing to do so after breakfast the pair of them flopped down onto the couch in the living room and switched the tv on to watch some ridiculously pointless day time television.

#3:Doing laundry

Three messy children and two adults did produce a hell of a lot of laundry. The kids were young, Mia was two and the twins were four so they were at that age where they like to make it look like a bomb had gone off…daily. Seriously how hard was it not to spill stuff down your clothes?

The twins had convinced their father to take them to the park so he did, taking Mia along with them too so Ellie could do some housework.

It was the weekend. The mess seemed to multiply on the weekends, the twins were off school so they played with all their toys and didn't seem to comprehend how to put them away.

Ellie had just finished hoovering the living room after putting away all the toys that once littered the floor, when she heard the door be pushed open and Colt and the children sauntered in. Maddy was yelling, something about her father being irresponsible.

Ellie stood with her arms crossed after she finished gathering up the wire attached to the hoover as they all clambered in. Ellie looked straight to Colt, seeing his shirt covered in blood and it down his face. “What the fuck Colt?”

“Language there are children around,” Colt scolded.

“We’ve heard you say it before,” Maddy huffed, “We know not to repeat it.”

“That’s not the point,” Colt said.

“What happened?” Ellie demanded.

“Well….,” Colt started but his oldest daughter cut him off.

“Daddy decided to get on the swing and then jumped off but didn't land properly and face planted the floor, then his nose started bleeding, Dad started screaming, Mia was crying, people were looking at us, Elijah didn't really care and went over to the slide,” Maddy explained.

Ellie shook her head in complete and utter disapproval. It was like she had four kids, all incapable of looking after themselves and one of them was in his late twenties.

“Right,” Ellie started ready to restore order to the chaos that was her household. “ Maddy and Elijah sort out your toys and put them away properly in your rooms, Colt give me your shirt, put a new one on, clean your face and then entertain Mia.”

Luckily the children did as they were told and Ellie took her husband’s shirt after he had insisted that there was no way that she would get the blood stain out, which just all in technicality made her want to actually do it.

Ellie waltzed into their bedroom after the kids were all in bed to see Colt laying on the bed, scrolling through his phone.

“Oi,” she called, getting his attention. He looked up to her as she held up Colt’s once blood splattered shirt that was now back to its pristine white.

“H-how did you do that?” Colt asked, bewildered.

“What?” Ellie asked.

“The blood. How’d you get it out?”

“Why?” Ellie asked, with a raised eyebrow as she tossed him the shirt as she headed into their conjoined bathroom to start her nightly routine.

“I swear this is how less women get caught for murder,” Colt mumbled as ellie disappeared into the bathroom.

#9: Grocery shopping

Ellie pushed the trolley along with one arm as her other hand was latched on to her daughter's smaller one.

Maddy thought she had been sneaky by placing things into the trolley, thinking her mother hadn't noticed but of course, she had. They had just walked down the sweet aisle, Ellie not missing Maddy randomly picking things up and throwing them into the trolley, trying to hide things under other items that were meant to be in there.

“Maddy.” Ellie started as they made their way through the supermarket, Ellie picking up items off the list as they went.

The young girl looked up at her mother, “Yeah?”

“I know what you’re doing.” She was fighting back a laugh, she used to do the same thing when she was a kid. Rita and herself were locked into a competition to see who could get the most items into the trolley without their parents noticing. Unlucky for Ellie was that her father was a detective, he noticed things, so Riya always won.

It was either Maddy was taking after her mother or Colt had taught her this. “I don't know what you’re talking about,” she insisted.

“Really? So what’s all of this?” Ellie asked gesturing to the newly appeared items that she knew she definitely did not put in there.

Maddy shrugged, still going with act dumb approach. “I don’t know.”

“Sure? You really don't know how this happened?” Ellie asked, as she stopped to pick up a loaf of bread.

“Nope,” she girl said, popping the ‘p’ as she smiled up at her mother.

“Okay,” Ellie said, letting a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. Lying was wrong, she had taught her children that but it was kind of funny. She watched Maddy as they continued around the shop. Colt was definitely going to be getting a talking to when they got back home.

#13: Putting on a special piece of jewellery- (Thank you to the Anon who requested this one.)

Ellie sat perched on the end of her bed, the necklace in her hand as she turned the little metal heart over, reading the little engraved message into the silver. It was a beautiful necklace that she knew she’d always treasure.

It once belonged to her mother, who unfortunately, passed away little over five years ago. She remembered sitting on her lap and playing with it when she was a kid, she always did find it gorgeous.

The necklace was special, before her mother, her grandmother owned it and her mother before her. It had been in the family for a long, long time and consequently when her mother passed it was given to Ellie.

“What are you doing?” Colt asked, as he leaned against the doorway. “You’ve been gone for ages.”

She didn't respond and just continued to play with the piece of jewellery in her hand. She felt the bed dip as her boyfriend took a seat. “This was my mom's,” she told him, holding it up so he could see. “I guess I'm just...reminiscing. She always used to wear this, I never saw her without it actually,” she said with a small chuckle.

Ellie leaned her head against his shoulder. “I really miss her, Colt.”

“I know,” Colt sighed, he felt something be placed into his hand. He looked down and saw Ellie necklace, her looked back up to her, his eyebrow raised.

“The clasp is really stiff. I can’t do it myself,” she explained. Ellie turned away from him and held her hair out the way. She felt the cold metal of the necklace around her neck and the metal heart lay over her chest.

Colt fiddle with the clasp for a minute, muttering profanities under his breath. At long last he finally managed to do it. “There.”

Ellie reached up to touch the heart as she turned back to face her boyfriend, placing a kiss on his lips. “Thank you,” she whispered as he pulled back. Colt just gave her a small smile in response.

#15: Getting a haircut

Change wasn't something that Ellie liked all that much. She preferred things to stay the same.

Ellie headed to the hairdressers earlier that morning, she was overdue a haircut, it was getting out of hand, too long so it was becoming a nuisance. Mind she thought having shoulder length hair was a nuisance too, it blew in her face when it was windy, it always seemed to get into her food somehow. Frankly, it was annoying.

Ellie had pondered over changing her hair for a while.

After a few hours of meaningless small talk, Ellie finally escaped the hairdressers. She slightly regretted it. Her hair was now short and rainbow.

She wasn't sure what had come over her, it was just an impulse, a strange one at that but one nonetheless. The weird part was she actually kinda liked it. She was just worried about what Colt was going to think. It was one hell of a change.

Ellie made her way home, pulling her bobble hat further down to cover her ears- that was going to be something to get used to. She had never had such short hair before, it had never felt like her ears were going to fall off before.

Soon Ellie arrived back home, slipping off her hat, scarf and coat and hanging them up then placed her keys on the table and into the pot on the table.

“I’m home!” she called, making her way into the kitchen.

Colt was sat at the table, scrolling through his phone and sipping at his cup of coffee. Colt mumbled a hello, not looking up from his device. That was typical behaviour from him.

Ellie made her way over to the kettle and flicked it on, putting two sugars into a mug, a tea bag and grabbed the milk from the fridge as she waited.

“Been up long?” Ellie asked. Her appointment was early and Colt was still asleep when she left.

“No. Where were you?”

“Hairdressers- I told you last night,” Ellie groaned.

“Oh,” Colt mumbled. She actually debated whether or not he actually listened to her sometimes.

Ellie turned back around after staring daggers at the back of her boyfriends head to finish making her drink.

After she was done she took a seat opposite Colt. After scrolling through his phone for a few more seconds he looked up, taking a sip of his drink that soon ended up over the table and some of it over Ellie.

“Colt!” she yelled. Luckily the coffee had been sitting for a fair while and was just barely lukewarm. She wiped her face with her sleeve.

“Erm… Don’t take this the wrong way but….why does it look like a unicorn barfed on you? I’m not saying that I don’t like it, it's kinda cool, but why?”

Ellie shrugged,wrapping her hands around the ceramic mug in front of her to warm her still chilly hands. “I don't know...it just kinda happened. I was talking to Janet about having a bit of change and then this happened,” she explained, pointing to her hair. Her now quite funky looking hair. “Does it look okay?” she asked, twirling a piece of her new hair around her finger.

“It’s definitely different but...Yeah, it looks okay.”

“Really?” Ellie asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” Colt nodded, “I like it.”

“Good,” she said, nodding her head as she took a sip of her drink, “So you've got an appointment next week...are you going to go rainbow too?”

Colt nearly spat out some more of his drink again. He swallowed it then looked up at her, wide eyed. “No, absolutely not.”

“It was worth a shot,” she shrugged.

#21: Birthday

Colt had been asking his girlfriend about what she wanted for two weeks now. He liked to be prepared when it came to Ellie but all she had said was that she wanted to spend it with him. He wouldn't deny he found that quite cheesy and felt a little bit of sick making its way up his throat, however, he did find it kind of adorable. Anyway, that’s what he did, anything to make his girl happy.

That morning, Colt got out of bed before Ellie and headed down into the kitchen to make her some breakfast. Boiled eggs and soldiers- her favourite.

After breakfast in bed was out of the way, Ellie dragged their blankets and pillows down into the living, switched on the tv and looked for something to watch while Colt was in the kitchen making some popcorn. They both settled down on the sofa, watched movies and ate junk food for the rest of the day, Just like Ellie had wanted.

#22: Going on vacation / #14: Packing for a trip

“Colt!” Ellie yelled from the bedroom. A few moments later Colt came running in, leaning against the doorway, smirking as he watched Ellie trying to close her suitcase. She was now laying on top of it whilst trying to do up the zipper, however, it wasn't working.

They were going away that evening and Ellie had decided she didn't need to pack before hand, like the day before like most people.

When she caught sight of him in the doorway she wasn't happy in any sense of the word. “Help me!” she barked.

Colt shook his head and made his way into the room. He sat on top of the case as Ellie worked to close it.

After it was closed, Colt was sure that wouldn't be for long since it looked as if it was ready to burst at the seams, he jumped off, looking at the case quizzically.

“Do you really need all of that?”

She stared daggers at him, “Yes!” She asked, startling her boyfriend slightly.

“Alright calm down. It was only a question,” he said, putting his hands up in defence.

Ellie wasn't the most stereotypical girl, she didn't pack her entire wardrobe when going on holiday or any of the things guys thought girls do, however, Ellie didn't remember the last time she had been on vacation so she had panicked slightly after looking through her closet discovering she had literally no suitable clothes for this trip and may have brought a few too many outfits. They were expensive so she was going to get some use out of them, even if her luggage now weighed more than her.

They were going to Zante in Greece. Ellie had been once but that was a long, long time ago. She was just really excited, they had been saving for ages for this trip and at long last they were going.

[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 3

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 61: Writing this in the afternoon on day 62. An exercise driven day. Two walks and stair climb as usual plus I popped round Jeff’s early evening. First time I’ve been to his house, 1 Garden Row, Elmington. It’s further than I thought so, with walking there an back, I managed a daily total of 14km. It was good to see him and have a social (but social-distanced) beer. When I got home, @9:45pm, I made thai green chicken curry, watch The Report (a great, if worrying film) and then TikTok-ed until gone 5am!

Day 62: Typing this on day 64! Beer round Karen’s. Missed Sam’s quiz.

Day 63: Typing this on day 64! Beer round Karen’s. Again! Well, it is bank holiday Monday! Had dirty pizza for tea and watched The Heat. Again! It is the most piss funny film.

Day 64: Well, I have been feeling guilty about treatung the bank holiday w/e l;ike a bank holiday w/e. It’s dawned on me that that guilt is way too self-disiciplned. I got up about midday, usual two walks and stair climb but that’s it. I need to clean the house from top to bottom, get on top of my online courses, get the garden done, get the car fixed, go shopping…fucking hell - if only I had the time…

Day 65: Today I swapped Amazon prime free trial for about the 5th time in my life. Same card and address - will they get wind of my skullduggery. This is all so I can finish watching Hunters and catch Homecoming S2. I went shopping at Asda near Raunds. I wish I hadn’t, it’s no good for a comprehensive shop. Received an email from RCI inviting me to a Zoom meeting with Pal Mulcahy for a business update. I fear the worst. And it’s at 10:00am, FFS!

Day 66: Logged in an attended zoom forum with Paul Mulcahy and over 250 RCI staff this morning. The message was that there is going to be redundancies. I expected this and expected to fall victim. All staff that are going to be put through cionsultation would be contacted today. I however wasn’t! Very, very surpised. meanwhile, Nick Reilly asked to connect via LinkedIn (including become a LinkedIn staff team member -  that’s new to me so I’ll see what it is but I accepted the invitation) Later, I WhatsApp-ed him and asked who has been affected from IT. All he could tell me was no one on Jon Rodger’s team is under threat. Also, Mark C emailed - I’ll respond tomorrow. I got up at 09:00ish and had my mornming walk before the 10:00am meeting. I am now, at 09:30pm, fucking knackered. Dinner and then bed, methinks but not before one more episdoe of Hunters!

Day 67: Typing on Day 68. Got pretty drunk last night. I’ve got blisters from walking (new boots) so I don’t think I’ll walk tomorrow (well, today!).

Day 68: I did fuck all today. Got up after 1pm, no walking. I did manage to clean the bathroom (and smash my little mirror) and do my 26 stair climb. I am typing at 9pm and I feel whacked!

Day 69: I have an abscess. It’s not too painful (today) but I am going to call the dentist tomorrow (Monday). I think antibiotics are in order. I watched a film, which I actually started yesterday, called The Voices starring Ryan Reynolds, Gemma Arteton and Anna Kendrick. Fuuuuuuuuuuuucking weird. The closing credits are the most bizarre, in context, I’ve ever seen. But, in general, a very good film. Back to normal exercise regime today plus hovered the hall and stairs. Get me. It’ll be interetingh to see my Google Fit figures for May tomorrow.

Day 70: Contacted the dentist who advised salt water rinsing and ibuprofen. But, tbf, it’s a lot better today and the swelling has gone right down. The dentist I called was the Oundle House (Rodericks) one. I was not hopeful since last time I saw them they referred me to their Northampton clinic for root canal work which was quoted at over £600. However, the dentist was very nice, had my x-ray to hand from that last visit and seemed more interested in making sure I’m OK than gaining a paying customer. He still wants to see me when possible though! I must mention the weather. It has been glorious weather nearly every day throughout May (it’s June 1st today). Seriously sunny and like a holiday every day. The news mentioned it today - the level of sunshine throughout the transition from spring to summer is unprecedented, apparently. My T shirt tan is, quite frankly, ridiculous!

Day 71: Today’s ‘must mention’ is what’s going on in the US and it’s not particularly related to Trump. There was a black man killed while under arrest. George Floyd died Monday 25th May (8 days ago) A policeman, who knelt on his neck for minutes while he complained of not being able to breathe, has been charged with murder. Now there are riots and curfews and military intervention all over the country. It’s similar to the English riots of 2011. It’s worrying, sad, scary and not what the fight against the pandemic needs. Most of all, it’s racism rearing its ugly head yet again. I’ve had a normal-ish day. received an email from Jim checking in, talked to a recruiter about a promising job lead (although the hours are 8-5 which I am not happy about), talked to Barry across the road and sent Barzzy a WhatsApp. And I logged in Shaw Academy and started lesson one of module 2 of web Design. It’s been a while, so long overdue, but I only did about 15 minutes. Must try harder / do better! As I type, late (10:10pm) I have dinner cooking and a strange pain in my left side and am in the middle of No Country for Old Men. Don’t think I’ve seen it since the cinema (13 years!)

Day 72: As soon as (well, within a couple of days) I mention the weather, it turns. It’s rained a little and is a lot cooler (15° rather than mid-20s). Much better for walking, I have to say. I finished Hunters today (Amazon Prime series). While I enjoyed it, it got too surreal at the end. It is loosely based on the real story of Nazi hunters in the US in 1977 but the straying from loosely based to down-right ridiculous fiction annoyed me. If it goes to S2, I will watch it, however. Received some of my rental deposit back today (the law changed so that only 5 weeks rent can be demanded as deposit). Over £600. Nice.

Day 73: I made a short video for Marc and Clare’s 26th wedding anniversary. I ‘dressed up’ for it. I enjoyed doing it and I think it was appreciated.

Day 74: Typing on Day 75 for no other reason than I couldn’t be bothered on day 74! I received a letter either today or the day before (well, yesterday or the previous day!) from Mr Minos at the eye clinic informing me that, while there is some stuff going on in both eyes (garnered from the photo scans done at the last hospital appointment), he wants to see me in three months. Always a refief when that happens. Been getting into two series on Amazon: Alex Rider and Modern Love. One is a male Hanna, the other is soppy affairs of the heart based on real life stories (from essays written in the NY Times). Both enjoyable for totally different reasons.

Day 75: Lazyish day. Well, not really, just that I only went for one walk, alebit 6km andI got pissed on. Wehn the rain hit, it was also fucking freezing! Some of the clouds were stunning today, made for great photos. As I type, it’s 21:12, I’m listening the wonderful Phoebe Bridgiers. Now, I’m gonna make some tea and sup a few ales, I reckon.

Day 76: Done lots of walking today (over 13,000 steps) I made sausage casserole with too much chilli (scotch bonnet and birdeye). I had an online (fb) debate with Sam over whether the George Floyd murder was a racial.

Day 77: Received a new (used) wing mirror for the car. £18 with delivery, I reckon that’s a bargain. I cashed in £20 from Prolific as well, so I’m satisfied at the financial full-circle. Dropped the car off at Barnwell (Nene Valley Body Shop) and walked back - 7km. Just about to dive into tea - finishing the blazing hot sausage casserole from yesterday. Then I’m going to do some more Rubik’s cube practice with my recently acquired GoCube.

Day 78: Lots of daily walking, 26 stair climb, press-up and late nights watching TikTok (gone 3am this morning) are making for a constantly knackered Tim Stubbs. Today I made veg soup and cooked up some meatballs. Both are delish. How did I ever to learn how to conjure up such stuff? The Rubik’s cube learning is coming along except that I need good daylight to distinguish between the yellow and white faces on the flipping thing!

Day 79: Listening to Radio 6 most the day and the news is making for dire listening. Forecast of severe recession, especially if there is a second peak of the virus, which I think there will be. Plus, an offshoot of the George Floyd murder and the #BlackLivesMatter movement, institutions and town councils are being lobbied by campaigners to remove statues of anyone associated with things like slavery (one was toppled in Bristol at the w/e) and rename buildings etc. that were named after historical characters with any links to something that now is deemed wrong or offensive. I agree with it but it’s not pleasant to hear amongst other bleak news. Walked to Barnwell to collect my car - front trim reseated and new wing mirror fitted, £20 - bargain (I source the replacement wing mirror). But, also, forked out £165 on car tax! Cleaned the lounge from top to bottom. Knackering!

Day 80: Chatted with Dad and Rita - he’s pissed off with the slavery backlash but otherwise they are both OK. I saw Baz in the Tesco queue where I mentioned my disgust at the Thursday market being allowed (I found I could not maintain 2m at all times just walking to Tesco’s!) and that I really don’t want to catch Covid19 as I will probably die. Maybe a bit dramatic but he messaged me later today to say he’d been thinking on what I said and offered to shop for me. I replied that I am OK to shop but am scared at how people are taking things so much less seriously than when lockdown started yet the virus is still out there just as it was then! I am very touched at his massage. I thoroughly cleaned the bedroom and changed the bedclothes today. House work really knackers me out!

Day 81: Spare room cleaned today. Not much else to type about. It’s Friday, I making curried mince and I don’t feel like a beer. How I’ve changed!

Day 82: I did have beers last night. Ended up going to bed with daylight and dawn chorus for company. Today, when I woke, gone 1pm, I have been greeted by what can only be described as thoroughly depressing news from every quarter. This includes violence in the capital, further virus outbreak in Beijing. Fog’s political posts on FB make for depressing (but vaild) reading. I’m feeling thoroughly fed up today. Not even music can lift my mood…

…but, I am currently listening to Craig Charles on BBCR6 and, I have to say, he’s putting in quite an exceptional effort - there may be hope that my mood might lift, even at gone 8pm! I might have a beer or two and grab something postivity and enjoyment from the day after all.

Day 83: Another late one last night but up before noon today. Started watching something called Condor on Sky One. It’s OK - there’s stuff I wanna waytch on Amazon Prime but, more often than not, it keeps telling me there’s ‘a problem’ when I try to play anything. Pissing me off. I just checked and I have two weeks of the initial 12 of furlough to go. I shall started asking the questions about what might happen on the Connections website.

Day 84: Typing this on Day 85. On the way back from dropping off some shoes for Sean Davies at his brother’s (martin) I met Karen and she said why not pop round for a beer so I did. Certainly not used to a drink on a Monday so that, and the genral upheaval to my evening, while good fun and a nice change, put pay to my usual diary entry! I sorted Amazon Prime out by leaving the TV turned off for over an hour. Day 85: Tim did the garden today and it looks great. The pipes in the bathroom have been knocking loudly, on and off, for a couple of weeks now. Last night, they were so loud that today I took it upon myself to resolve it or ring Woodfords. So, having turned off the water, run the taps dry to get rid of any trapped air and then turned the water back on slowly, I discoved it’s the cistern and its pipes. Woodfords are arranging Corvee to visit. Meanwhile, leaving the water turned off at least stops the noise which is, otherwise, costant and unbearable! I emailed HR a couple of days ago about what’s happening in a couple of weeks time in terms of furlough when the 12 weeks will be up. Sue Cockimngs got back to me attaching an email Deryn sent on 15th May which I never received. Basically, they’ll extend furlough if need be and an update should be forthcoming late May/early June. Well, that time has passed, so who knows what is going to happen. The furlough scheme (CJRS) has been changed by the govenment, I’ve read, and it looks like any new people would have to have been furloughed by June 10th (it’s the 16th today) so no furlough rotation, which is annoying. The CJRS ends 1st October with employer contributions required from 1st August - that’s D-Day as far as I am concerned….so job hunting will have to step up a notch! Day 86: Pete’s birthday and he bought himself the same speaker as me. When I asked if it lived up to his expectations he mentioned it’s better through WiFi than Bluetooth. That confused me as I haven’t got WiFi available on mine…..long story short, I bought the wrong fucking speaker. I got a AudioPro AddOn T10 instead of C10. To say I am fucked off is an understatement. To think I was so pleased at the cheap price I paid. Now I feel like I have wasted  €200. Bollocks.

Day 87: Finished Alex Rider last night. Another series that started off so well and ended a litte weak but, overall, not bad. I’ve started keeping strange meal times…lunch very late (4pm) and dinner really late (11pm). I need to sort it ‘cos it’s playing havoc with my sugar levels. I had a huge hypo while having my second walk today, second day on the trot that’s happened. My late dinner was Chinese chicked curry with a quarter of a scotch bonnet and two birdeye chillies. Delish.

Day 88: I have managed to be bitten yesterday or the day before on one of my walks. There are strange, itchy lumps on my right inner forearm. And I do mean itchy. I trimmed my sideburns today, I was very pissed off with them. My hair looks just a little less shit. I did a shop at Tesco in Corby today. Mainly booze as follows: 20 cans Sam Miguel £18 18 cans Stella £15 20 bottles Bud £10 8 cans Tyskie £9 3 lrg bottles Warsteiner £5 £57 Bargain.

Day 89: Lazy day. One short walk and usual stair climb. Howard and Sue popped round to give me a pressie - bottle of Monkey Shoulder. I’m building up quite a collection of whisky!

Day 90: Dad called and we chatted for an hour or so. I had to apologise for not sending a father’s day card! Dan messaged me and offered to pay for a pizza delivery which I declined.

Football has started again this past week…Prem and Championship only. L1 and L2 season was cut short and Posh missed out on the play-offs by one place. As I type, Everton v Liverpool is on Sky Sports on a Sunday evening - it’s very strange with no crowd. There’s crowd noise being played thorugh the tannoy.