#goodbye mary jane

[goodbyemaryjane]

10 things I learned from 10 months of sobriety

(in no particular order)

1. Feelings can't hurt me as long as I don't do anything self destructive to make them go away. They'll pass - like clouds blowing over the sky.

2. Everything good that I thought being drunk and high helped me do - socializing at parties, making art, emotional intimacy - I'm actually better at when I'm sober.

3. Getting intoxicated was a shortcut (a maladaptive coping mechanism) to silence my self-criticism and shame.

4. It caused more problems than it solved.

5. What I really needed was to practice self compassion and let myself be vulnerable with others sober. Scary, but the rewards are great.

6. If I satisfy my loneliness by getting drunk and high, I will be too busy with my addiction to seek out real love or accept it when it comes. I feel lonely for a reason; if I just keep numbing the hunger, I'll starve.

7. I have to take all of the energy I may spend wishing for others to change for me and just change myself.

8. Withdrawals were uncomfortable but my fear of them was much worse. When I look back, I felt more joy and relief in the first few days than pain. Like swimming in the ocean: once I stopped struggling and just let the current pull me under and toss me around, trusting that eventually I would be pushed to the surface, I knew I would be alright no matter how strange and sick I felt. It was such a relief to stop fighting what I knew deep down was right and true: that I had to quit today - not tomorrow, not in a week - or I'd be using for the rest of my life.

9. Denial is a powerful and terrifying thing. Nobody is too smart to be an addict. If anything, it makes you better at coming up with excuses.

10. At some point you will be more afraid of staying the same forever than you are of changing.

[vertigoartgore]

Early 2001 Kaare Andrews's cover for Peter Parker:Spider-Man #29. Just before the start of the famous JMS/JRjr era (and also 9/11).

Seems like someone was hyped for the (then) upcoming 2002 movie.

[killuaisaprincess]

🍭🦷

“Gon! Can you buy me this!”

He makes sure to look back at Alluka, and Alluka rolls her eyes.

Gon stares at the huge rainbow-colored lollipop, somehow feeling the pain radiating to his teeth.

“Big Brother, aren’t you a bit old for that?”

Alluka comments snidely, and Killua gasps and puffs out his cheeks.

“G-Gon…? Do you think I’m too old for it?”

Killua looks up at him with big blue eyes, and Gon shifts his balance, holding Killua with one arm and letting one hand free.

“Of course not, princess. But didn’t you complain about your tooth hurting the other day?”

[rosiesrroses]

Valentines | mv1

in which max spends valentines day with his girlfriend

paring: max verstappen x fem!reader

warning: fluff (lmk if there's something else!), not proofread (just wrote and then posted)

finished: 08 December 2024

posted: 08 December 2024

word count: 380 words

My love for u is ever lasting, it will last until eternity ends~

third person pov

Y/n knew at the beginning of their relationship that Max wasn't into celebrating Valentine's Day, and although she loved Valentine, she respected him. 

But that didn't stop her from going out with her friends and having a galentines dinner with them. 

Y/n is dressed in a short red dress with little bows on the straps paired with some red Mary Jane’s with bows on the front. 

“How late will you be back, schatje?” Max asked her as she stood in front of the mirror, applying some lipstick. 

“Maybe around 9?” she shrugged, then turned around to face him. ���I’ll let you know once we leave,” 

Now entering their living room, she picked up her small purse and her car keys. 

“Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off?” he asked her. 

“I’ll be fine, Max. I promise,” she promised him. 

At the front door, they both bid their goodbyes.

“Be safe, okay?” he asked her. 

“I will,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek and then left their shared apartment. 

Once Max made sure she left the building and safely in her car, he put his plan in motion. 

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The sky was now darker, the streetlights were on and Y/n could see couples, young and old, dining in restaurants and celebrating Valentine's Day. 

She smiled sadly, wishing that that were her and Max. But she shook her head at the silly thought. 

She pulled into a parking space in front of the apartment building, sighing as she climbed out of her car and took the elevator.

As she reached their front door, unlocking it and stepping out, she froze seeing the sight in front of her.

Their apartment was filled with beautiful roses and some lit candles, and Max appeared in a suit, holding a bouquet of white and pink tulips. 

She smiled but that quickly turned into a frown.

“I thought you didn’t like Valentines?” she asked as he walked over to her. 

“I don’t, but I like you,” he smiled softly. 

“So, will you be my Valentine?”

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tagged: maxverstappen 

yourusername thank you to the world’s best valentine

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taglist ~ @linnygirl09

note ~ i didn't know how to end this 😭😭 but i hope you enjoyed reading

masterlist ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

[hiiikiko]

𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖊𝖇

[5: you’re such an asshole]

tlou m.list | series m.list

spider-man!ellie x reader

synopsis: ever since that night on the bench, you haven’t seen Spidey and it seems that Ellie has been avoiding you.. what is wrong with your love life??

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

ELLIE’S POV:

“Fuck, I know! You don’t gotta keep saying that,” Ellie groaned as she threw herself onto her bed, covering her face with her hands and hoping that they would also cover her fragile ego.

“I’m just sayin’, man,” Jesse laughed as he chucked a piece of popcorn into his mouth, “It ain’t right.”

Dina chimed in, “Mhm, agreed… besides, it’s really fuckin’ weird.”

Ellie groaned and sat up. She had known Jesse and Dina since middle school, long before she got her powers, they were nice. Jesse was a transfer student from Wyoming, Dina a transfer student from New Mexico, and Ellie wasn’t exactly a transfer student but she did transfer from Austin to New York. So, the three of them soon became good friends.. all three were outsiders so it was natural for them to flock together, like birds of a feather. Soon after Ellie was bit, Jesse and Dina found her out because she broke down in front of them, crying about how stressful it is, how she’s a freak, and that she’s petrified about turning into an actual spider (thanks freshman lit).

“It’s not weird!” Ellie whined.

“You’re practically stalking the poor girl,” Dina scoffs, sitting up from the beanbag, “She has a right to know!”

Jesse nods, “Yeah, dude, and don’t you think it’s unfair? She’s confiding all her secrets in Spidey-you, not Ellie-you..”

Ellie sits up “I know.. I know I should come clean but.. she’s already a pretty big fan of Spider-Man.. hell, she has memorabilia all over her fuckin’ apartment.. what if,” she takes a deep sigh, “What if she’s, you know… disappointed? What then..”

Dina gives Ellie’s hand a reassuring squeeze, “If she’s as wonderful as you say she is.. she won’t care that her hero is a completely socially awkward nerd.”

“Hey!” Ellie scoffs and playfully pushes Dina, “But, yeah.. maybe you’re right..”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Argh! Gwen, there’s no fucking way I’m getting this,” you whine, burying your head into your scarf.

“Shh,” your best friend, Gwen Stacy, laughs, trying to remind you that the two of you were in a library, “Where is your tutor?”

“She’s ignoring me,” you pout, resting your head on the table and looking up at Gwen who had been attempting to help you for the last hour and a half.

Gwen rolls her eyes, “Now, why would she be ignoring you?”

You shrug, “I don’t know, ugh, she’s so confusing..”

It had been almost an entire month since you’ve heard from Ellie, she apparently requested to not work on any photoshoot with you, hadn’t been picking up your phone calls.. what made matters worse is that now Spidey was ignoring you.. well, actually.. you couldn’t be sure that he was given that he never gave you his number or socials and it’s not like the communication between you is consistent..

Gwen shakes her head, “I don’t get why you’re so upset about this.. girl, Y/n/n.. it’s not like she’s of notoriety or anything, she’s sure as hell no Abby Anderson.”

Uh, ouch?

You scoff, “You’re so shallow, you wouldn’t be saying the same thing about Peter if he hadn’t wasn’t working for Stark Enterprises, would you?”

Gwen rolls her eyes, “I wouldn’t know Peter if he wasn’t working for Stark Enterprises.”

You give a half hearted laugh as you begin to pack your things up, “Anyway, I’ll see you later Gwen.. a fellow model invited me to that play on Broadway.”

“Ooh with Mary Jane?”

You nod and wave goodbye.

The cold winter air nipped at your skin, causing the blood to rush to your cheeks and give you a nice pink dusting. You tightened your scarf around you as you flagged down a taxi.

“Y/n,” you heard a familiar french accented voice call from the street, the voice belonged to Giá, a tall, brown skinned, and brunette model. She was almost like an older sister to you, she had taken you under her wing when you first got into modelling which was surprising, given that she used to date your older brother who ended up dumping her for some gold digging camgirl.

“Hey, Giá,” you smile as you hop out the taxi, “We’re you waiting long?”

“No, I just arrived! Had to stop by the florist,” she holds up a bouquet of white lilies.

You quirk your brow, “ Mm and who might those be for?”

Giá giggles, a melodic sound, “You will see..” she plucks a lily from the bouquet and hands it to you, “this one is for you, mon cheri.”

You giggle and take the lily and hold it close, “Then shall we?”

“We shall.”

The theatre was warm and bustling with activity, attendees trying to find their seats, staff checking tickets, ladies coming in and out of the ‘powder room,’ and stagehands running around.

“This way,” a tall member of the staff says and leads you two to the front of the theatre.

“Fancy,” you mumble as you take a seat next to Giá, even your family never got this type of treatment.

Giá excitedly looks up at the stage as the curtains begin to open, a beautiful redhead comes down the staircase, singing a hauntingly tragic love song.

You could feel someone’s gaze boring into you.. taking a swift glance around, you meet the eyes of a certain auburnette, her camera laced around her neck and her eyes narrowed into yours before quickly looking away and aiming her camera at the redhead on stage.

As the play came to an end Giá quickly ran up to the stage and handed her bouquet to the redhead, earning a kiss from her. You smiled fondly at the encounter.

“Thought that was your girlfriend,” a hoarse voice mutters from behind you, so close you could feel their breath on your neck which caused you to jump and turn around.

“Abby, my god,” you gasp, putting your hand to your chest, “What are you doing here? I thought you hated plays..”

Abby laughs and crosses her arms, her eyes roaming over your figure, “Well, uh, my dad wanted to see it.. you know how he is.”

You laugh, you know exactly how Mr. Anderson was.

“So.. looks like your friend is bus?” She nods over at Giá who has her arms wrapped around the redhead.

You groan, “She was my ride home too..”

Abby smiles, “Well, I parked my car nearby..”

You consider it for a bit, “Well—.”

And before you could answer, Ellie intrudes, “I can take her home.”

She pulls you away.

“What the fuck, Ellie,” you scoff and rip yourself from her grasp.

Ellie stares daggers into you, “What? I’m just trying to fucking help, I-I didn’t think it’d be a good idea for you to go with her, given that she’s your ex and all.”

“Well, that was my decision to make, wasn’t it?” you rasp out, “I don’t need you, Abby, or even fuckin’ spider-man to come to my rescue, got that?”

Ellie looks like you just killed her favourite horse, “I-I was just trying to help..”

You storm away, not getting far when you hear “I can still give you a ride home!”

You were unfortunately in no position to pass that offer up.. so that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Ellie’s truck, the heater on blast and indie rock coming softly from the stereo.

The ride was silent and full of tension so thick that you could only cut it with a chainsaw.

“Here we are,” Ellie drums her fingers against the steering wheel.

Suddenly, you can’t take it anymore.. the fucking ghosting, her acting like nothing ever happened between the two of you, “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

Ellie stops drumming, “W-What?”

“You heard me, you’re a fucking asshole. You kiss me then act like nothing happened, then come back in and save the god damn day, and—,” you cut yourself off by letting out a soft sob.

“Y-y/n, I-I can explain!” she pleads.

“I don’t want to hear it, Ellie,” you shakily mutter as you unbuckle yourself and get out of the truck, Ellie does the same and pleads with you to hear her out all the way up to your apartment.

“Please,” she whispers one last time as you slam the door in front of her face.

You stand at the door for a few minutes longer, hall expecting her to bang on the door again.. when five minutes goes by, you slip out of your clothes and into your comfiest pj set, washing your face and turning on the heater as you finally settle in on your couch..

Knock, knock, knock!

“Ellie, I already said to fuck of—.”

“Who’s Ellie?”

Mother fucker.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[a/n: sorry LMAO this is another filler chapter.. next chapter will feature more Ellie and maybe more of Spidey. Y/n will be attending a formal event and maybe, just maybe, Spidey will make an appearance….?]

tags: @elliecoochieeater @wavesgocrash @g3latin @elliesflowersblog @usuck @elliessweetheart @miss-chananandler-bong @lvlymicha @prettywhnyoucry @g0d-wont-let-me-die @errorlovernotfound99 @thatgiraffefromtlou

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Mary Jane’s Last Dance

Summary: You and Joe attend the golf event pre-party, main event, and after-party. You had no idea what would unfold, though.

Warnings: Angst, cut-off smut, uncharacteristic ITM.

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic

May 30, 2024 - Golf event pre-party

“Honey.” - Joe

Hearing a pet name only one person calls me, I paused my conversation with one of the Jeff Ruby’s caterers to look over my shoulder and see Joe standing being me.

“Mhm?” - you

“Your parents are here with the boys.” - Joe

I said goodbye to the sweet caterer and walked off, Joe lacing his fingers with mine as he guided me toward the entrance of the venue.

“I didn't think they'd be here till later.” - you

“They won't be.” - Joe grinned

Looking up at him, Joe was already looking down at me with a smile on his face.

“They aren't here?” - you

“Nope. I just wanted to get you alone.” - Joe

We heard voices walking near us, so Joe hurried to rush us both into a nearby storage closet.

Joe and I had our hands over each other's mouths as we kept from laughing, his arms around my waist as tightly as they could be to accommodate my bump.

We continued to be quiet till the voices drifted off, and Joe left my arms to find a light.

“Why’d you want to get me alone?” - you smile

Joe flicked the light on and locked the door, his smirk telling me exactly what he wanted before he could say himself.

“Joey… we can't be gone too long. Your mom is going to come looking for you in about ten minutes.” - you laughed

The smirk never left Joe’s face as he walked up to me teasingly slowly, his tongue-in-cheek expression oddly convincing.

“Ten minutes is plenty of time for us, baby.” - Joe

Joe was now right in front of me. My eyes met with his chest before I looked up at his downturned face.

“Please. You look fuckin’ gorgeous tonight. I need you.” - Joe

His voice carried that whininess it always gains when he's needy, and it was nothing but hot to me.

“Fine-” - you

Joe cut me off when he leaned down and smashed his lips onto mine, his hands slowly reaching for my waist before they slid back to my lower back.

“Jump- wait fuck, never mind.” - Joe

I laughed at his remembrance that I was eight months pregnant and completely not able to jump, Joe’s lips still rough on mine.

Sadly, Joe pulled his lips away from mine with an audible pop, and I watched him look around the room. I grinned at the sight of Joe’s lips, which were slightly puffy, red, and glistening with our joint saliva.

It amazed me that Joe still wanted me like this even though I was pregnant, swollen, and moody.

“What’s wrong?” - you

“Nothin’, Mama. Just trynna find something that I can set you down on. I don't want you standing while I finger you.” - Joe winked

Fucking hell, this man.

Just as Joe looked like he had a lightbulb moment and wrapped an arm around my back to lead me somewhere, his phone started wringing in his pocket.

“God, damn it.” - Joe grumbled

I watched him pull his phone out, and Joe showed me the caller ID with an annoyed look on his face. When I made eye contact with him, he blinked fast and repeatedly to drive home the point that he was annoyed.

“Just answer, babe.” - you chuckled

It was Robin, his mom, probably looking around the entire venue for him.

As soon as he lets out a deep sigh and answers, putting the phone on speaker and mumbling a greeting, Robin starts yelling.

“Where in God’s name are you?! It is your name on the foundation, and you are nowhere in sight! Did you kidnap poor y/n and leave?!” - Robin

I had to try to stifle a giggle when Joe’s face turned into a replica of the grimacing emoji.

Joe’s eyes were playfully wide as he looked at me, lying and telling his mom that he had to grab something from the car.

“Yeah, uh, y/n was getting a headache and asked me to go with her to the car to grab some Tylenol.” - Joe lied

I looked at him and rolled my eyes, Joe only winking at me in return.

They continued their conversation, and I started drifting off, my eyes wandering around the room and over Joe till they landed on the major tent in his pants. He’s wearing his grey skinny jeans and a white cream sweater, and I know those pants have to be uncomfortable right now.

Almost as if Joe could sense my gaze on his crotch, he dropped a hand down to his manhood in an attempt to rearrange his erection into a more comfortable place.

I cocked my head to the side as I caught him giving himself a little squeeze before pulling his hand away, trying to aid the pressure just a little bit.

A minute later, Robin yelled at Joe one last time to make his rounds before getting off the phone.

“You in trouble?” - you smiled

“Def grounded.” - Joe

I chuckled before walking closer to him, wrapping my arms around his waist to hug him. Joe used a hand to push my head onto his chest before wrapping his arms around my shoulders. We swayed back and forth slowly, Joe laying his head down against mine as he sighed in contentment.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you too. I'm so thankful to have you, y/n. I couldn't do any of this without you.” - Joe

Pulling my head away from his chest, I looked up at Joe and smiled at him before pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

“No one else’s side I’d rather have glued to mine.” - you grinned

Joe doesn't say anything in return, just smiles before opening the locked closet door.

“Wait. Joe. You can kinda see your…” - you trailed off

He looked at me with pure confusion on his face before it clicked. Joe’s eyes went wide before he shut and locked the door back.

“We’re finishing this later, by the way.” - Joe

I playfully rolled my eyes, and Joe turned his back to me before I heard the sound of his pants being unzipped.

A moment later, Joe zipped his pants back up and turned around.

“Boner check.” - Joe

I couldn't help but laugh to myself as I looked down at his crotch, Joe doing the same.

“Looks fine, I guess?” - you chuckled

“Good because it is wildly uncomfortable. My dick is like bent in half.” - Joe laughed

“What?! I still want to be able to use it after this!” - you

We were both laughing as Joe opened the door, one of his hands holding mine as we walked out of the closet.

Joe was playfully swinging our arms but stopped dead in his tracks when we rounded the corner and were face-to-face with his mother.

“Your car isn't in that direction, Joseph Lee. It’s in the back parking lot, not the front.” - Robin

At the same time, I looked up at Joe, and Joe looked down at me.

Robin sensed that the two of us might have been trying to fool around based on our frantic expressions, and her face faltered to one of slight disgust.

She wasn't disgusted with the fact that we were getting active, though. It was because she had caught us sneaking around.

“Oh. Uhm, never mind. Just… go mingle, Joe. I'll leave you two alone.” - Robin

I giggled to myself when Robin speed-walked away from the awkward interaction.

“That was awkward.” - you

Joe chuckled beside me and rested his hand on the small of my bag, rubbing it softly as he leaned down to kiss my temple.

“Could be worse. Imagine she was standing there when we walked out the first time. Before I fixed myself.” - Joe

I playfully slapped Joe’s chest, not finding his words as funny as he did.

“I’m honestly surprised she or my dad haven't walked in on us. We've been having mind-blowing sex for years.” - Joe

“Joseph Lee!” - you

Joe laughed as I shoved him. He naturally came right back up to me to help guide me, and before I knew it, we were back at the main area of the venue.

Soon, Joe was deep in conversation with someone, and I stood to the side of him shifting my weight from one swollen foot to the other.

I was due in July, and at that stage where I was majorly uncomfortable.

Joe looked over at me, still listening to the guy he was talking to but sensing my restlessness.

“You okay?” - Joe mouthed

Nodding, Joe turned back to the man and apologized before asking him to pause for a moment.

Joe looped his arm with mine and pulled me over to the couch his parents were sitting on.

“Sit down, baby. You don't have to walk around with me if you're feet are hurting.” - Joe

“I’m fine, Joe. I promise…” - you

My words trailed off when Joe raised an eyebrow at me and cocked his head to the side.

“Okay. Fine, my feet hurt.” - you

“See was that hard to admit? You should've just stayed home like I initially suggested.” - Joe

I rolled my eyes at his words. This was a conversation that had occurred multiple times during both my pregnancies. Joe always turned into a helicopter husband, and though it's sweet sometimes, he can go a little overboard, just like he was now.

Joe saw a standing oscillating fan across the room and walked away to grab it. Robin bumped my elbow with hers, and I just angled my head toward her and shook it side to side at Joe. My mother-in-law only laughed, knowing Joe would go overboard when I gave him the smallest hint that I was dealing with discomfort.

Sure enough, Joe unplugged the huge fan and easily carried it over to me with one arm. He looked around for a plug-in before positioning the fan toward me and turning it on.

It was initially on its highest setting and sent my hair flying, along with a few cups on the coffee table at my feet.

“Shit!” - Joe

Both Robin and I yelled his full government name in sync, causing us both to laugh as Joe figured out how to turn the intensity down.

Once Joe got it set to the low setting, he looked over at the couch with a sheepish, closed-lip look on his face. Robin and I were glaring at him, and Jimmy was looking at the ground, shaking his head.

“Oopsies.” - Joe

“Oopsies indeed. Now clean this up, and I wouldn't mind if you got me one of those little appetizers.” - you

Joe nodded his head before bending down to pick up the plastic cups and napkins littered across the floor.

“Yes ma'am.” - Joe

“You’ve trained him well.” - Robin laughed

I laughed along with her for a few seconds, watching Joe walk up to one of the caterers and retrieve one of the small dishes.

“It didn't happen overnight, Robin. This is the product of subtle critiques since we started dating in 2014.” - you chuckled

Joe walked back over to me and leaned down, handing me the snack before pressing a kiss to my cheek. I giggled at the way his bangs brushed against my forehead when he pulled back to make eye contact.

“You need anything else? A drink?” - Joe

“I’m good, thank you, sweetheart.” - you

I grinned when Joe stood up to his full height with blushed cheeks. I only ever called him sweetheart in private and during our softest moments, like when he was lying on my chest and I was rubbing his back.

“Imma go find Sam. Text if you need me.” - Joe

“Okay!” - you smiled

Joe backed away slowly, almost as if he wanted me to ask him to stop and come back, and he furrowed his brows when he was six feet away, and I hadn't said anything yet. In the end, Joe turned around and walked off.

“I don't think you understand how much you mean to him, y/n.” - Robin

Her sweet words came out of nowhere, catching me off guard, so I looked over at her with a questioning look on my face.

“There’s so many people here, and even though he's bubbling with anxiety, you’re making him smile and laugh without a care in the world. Only you are capable of that, sweetie. I hope you know that. I’m also glad he’s coming out of his shell more about affection in public.” - Robin

“I feel like we’ve had variations of this conversation a hundred times, but I’ll never get tired of it. He’s the best thing to ever happen to me, and I'm glad I get to be that safe person for him. I, too, am happy about him getting over his PDA shyness. I remember when I was pregnant with the twins, and I got a little annoyed with him because he wouldn't hold my hand.” - you

Robin nods, letting me know that she’s listening, and I forge ahead.

I recalled the funny memory, one that Joe and I looked back on and laughed over. I was huge and pregnant and angered with him. Getting so annoyed to the point that I yelled:

“You won't hold my hand, but my baby bump is comparable to a neon flashing light sign that says I had sex with Joe Burrow!!”

The look on Joe’s face after I yelled that at him was one I will never forget. He was in awe, jaw-dropped that I’d say that to him, but the next time we were in public, he made sure to initiate some hand-holding.

Robin and even Jimmy were laughing at the story, finding it funny that I eventually worked up the courage to tell of their hermit crab of a son when I was pregnant with his twins.

“With all you do for him, you deserve some PDA, girl!” - Robin

“He knows that now.” - you laughed

“That he does. Every time I walk past him talking to someone, he's been talking about the baby, you, or the twins. Everyone in this venue probably knows how many weeks you are.” - Robin

Before I had the chance to answer, my phone started vibrating in the pocket of the loose sundress I had on. I pulled my phone out and smiled at the sight of the contact banner that came up. It was Joe.

“Hello?” - you answered

“Hey. Your parents are here with the boys.” - Joe

“Oh, yay! That could have been a text, though, right?” - you

“I’m not passing up on a chance to hear your voice.” - Joe

I could hear his grin through the phone, and Joe hung up just a few seconds later.

Robin and I’s conversation started back up till I heard the easily recognizable squeals of my boys.

I looked over at the source of the sound, and my heart fluttered because all of my favorite people were walking up to me.

Joe had Ty on his shoulders, supporting him with one hand holding his arm while Joe used the other arm to hold Miles on his hip.

“Joseph!” - you

“I got ‘em!” - Joe

My parents were trailing behind Joe, laughing at the entire scene in front of them. Once Joe was at the seating area, he helped Miles slide down his hip till his feet were on the floor. Then he reached up and grabbed Tyson under his armpits and lifted him over his head to put him down.

“Momma!!” - Miles

“There’s my boy!” - you grinned

Miles ran straight up to me on the couch, and Robin leaned down to pick him up since I obviously couldn't bend down and get him with my belly in the way.

He stood up in Robin’s lap and fell onto my chest, his arms spread in a hug-like manner.

“I missed you.” - you

My hand rested on his back as I slowly swayed side to side with him. Miles was a momma’s boy through and through, while Ty was Joe’s mini shadow, though they were both Joe’s carbon copy.

Joe was walking off when I finally opened my eyes, and I didn't even know I had closed them at one point. A smile formed on my lips as Tyson ran after him. Joe was just getting a fresh bottle of water, and when he felt little hands on his calves, a grin spread on his lips as he looked down through his Cartiers. Bliss spread through my body at the comforting weight of Miles on my chest and the adorable sight of Joe scooping Tyson up.

Sam walked over to Joe and was now talking to Tyson who was in his favorite spot, which was in his daddy’s arms.

My parents were deep in conversation with Robin and Jimmy, and I closed my eyes, sighing in contentment.

Moments later, unbeknownst to me, Joe walked back over and sat down on a chair caddy-cornered from me. His gaze was fixed on my face. He was amazed at how tensionless it was, and a flutter happened in his chest when he saw the small smile on my lips.

Joe didn't want to break the blissful spell, but he reached out and rubbed my knee gently.

“You good, babe?” - Joe

I nodded without opening my eyes, reaching down to gently rub shapes in the back of Joe’s hand. Joe gently grabbed my hand and squeezed it three times. In return, I squeezed back four times.

——

May 31, 2024 - Main golf event

Today was the main golf event held by Joe’s Foundation. It was the second annual outing, and Joe was less nervous than last year now that he had experience, but he was still dreading the outing itself.

I was currently getting ready alone in our master bathroom after taking a solo shower, which rarely happens nowadays. Joe had left the house earlier this morning, and a smile formed on my lips as I thought back to when his alarm went off this morning.

-

Joe’s alarm went off, and I buried my head deeper into his bare chest, trying to cut the sound off to my ear. He rolled over and turned it off before wrapping his arms around me and holding me as close as possible.

“G’morning, baby.” - Joe

His deep, raspy morning voice never failed to give me butterflies, and right now, the warmth of his big body wasn't helping.

Joe’s hand left my back and drifted down to my bump, grinning when the baby kicked in response to him pressing his palm into my belly.

“How’d my favorite girls sleep?” - Joe

Lately, baby girl has been getting restless at night, basically using my bladder as a trampoline, and Joe was aware of how it kept me from sleeping.

“Good, actually. No trapeze moves on my bladder last night.” - you

Joe felt me smile against his pec, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“That’s amazing. Can you believe she’s almost here? Because I can’t. Like, I know she's almost here, but I don’t think I’ve realized that she’s almost here.” - Joe

“I was thinking about that last night when you were rubbing lotion on my belly. I can’t wait till our girl is here, and I can’t wait to see you with her. I'm getting a little nervous about how Ty and Miles will react to her being here, though.” - you

Butterflies flew in my stomach when I fully paid attention to Joe’s current movements. He was gently rubbing his cheek against my head, stroking my baby bump with one hand, and slowly running the fingers of his other hand through my hair.

“I think they'll be okay. It’ll be hard for them to adjust in the beginning, maybe, but I think they'll love her. Remember how sweet they were when they met Evan and Gracie’s baby?” - Joe

“That is true. I’m just worried about how they'll react to having to share us with her. She will be our first priority for a bit, you know? They aren't used to not being our main focuses.” - you

“Don’t worry about it, y/n. We’ll adjust and adapt. Everything is going to be fine, I promise.” - Joe

We laid in bed for a little while longer till Joe got up and got ready. Joe told me to go back to sleep and that I didn't need to come to the event till a little bit later.

“Just relax awhile longer. You need it, Mama. You were on your feet a lot yesterday.” - Joe

“Okay.” - you nod

Joe smiled at the fact that I didn't argue back at him for once, and he leaned down to kiss my lips before grabbing his shades and exiting the bedroom.

“Bye, I love you.” - Joe

“I love you more. See ya later.” - you

I received one last grin before Joe gently shut the door behind him. Scooting over to lay on his pillow, I immediately breathed in his scent as I listened to his car start up and the garage door close.

-

My daydreaming spell was broken when Tyson ran into the bathroom with his mini-football.

“Hi, Momma.” - Tyson

I closed my blush palate and reached down to run my fingers through his blonde hair, smiling when he pressed his face into my leg.

“Hi, Tyson Lee.” - you smiled

“Where’s Daddy?” - Tyson

“He’s workin’.” - you

Tyson’s sad eyes looked down at the little football in his hands, and I swear my heart broke a little.

“He can pass with you tomorrow, okay? Daddy will be home all day tomorrow.” - you

“Okay…” - Tyson

My eyes grew misty as I watched him turn around and slowly walk away. The moment was sad by itself, and my raging hormones were not helping.

-

Thirty minutes passed, and I was fully ready. My hair was curled, my makeup was on, and so was my outfit. I had my black romper on paired with one of Joe’s old button-up shirts open and shrugged off my shoulders.

I hadn't worn the romper yet, but I knew Joe was going to love it.

My parents stayed the night yesterday in one of the open bedrooms since they'd have to watch the boys again today, so Joe and I didn't get to continue what got interrupted in the storage closet yesterday. Joe passed out right after our joint shower anyway, and I remember giggling at how his eyes kept fluttering closed when he was rubbing lotion on my bump.

After spraying some perfume and grabbing my belt bag, I went downstairs to find my parents drinking coffee in the kitchen.

“Morning!” - you grinned

“Good morning, honey. You look beautiful.” - your mom

“Thanks, Mom. How long have you guys been up?” - you

Miles ran over to me from the living room, asking me for a snack, so I walked off into the pantry to get him some gummies.

I mumbled, “There you go, buddy.” And my dad answered my previous question as I was walking back into the kitchen.

“We were awake just before Joe left. He was in a rush but made us some coffee before heading out.” - your dad

A blush formed on my cheeks at Joe’s sweet gesture, and I tried to hide it by opening the fridge to grab the smoothie I made for Joe last night.

“That’s sweet.” - you

“Mhm. He’s always been a gentleman.” - your mom

My face heated up even more, and I knew my face was probably beat red. Time to rush out of here.

“Well, I’ll see you guys later! Bye, babies.” - you

Miles and Tyson ran to hug me, and I pressed a kiss to each of their cheeks before walking out of the front door.

Joe called me as soon as I got into the car, his deep voice ringing out through the car speakers since my Bluetooth was connected.

“Hey, baby.” - Joe

“Hey, what's up?” - you

“Are you coming soon?” - Joe

I focused on backing out of the driveway before answering.

“Yup. Just pulled out of the driveway. Is everything okay? You sound a little disoriented, baby.” - you

“I’m fine, just getting bored and anxious without you here.” - Joe

“I’ll be there in just a little bit, Joey. Do I need to park where we did yesterday?” - you

“Yup. I'm at a Guinness stand right next to the parking lot too.” - Joe

Joe and I ended up going back and forth my entire drive there, though I quickly realized that was probably his plan from the beginning.

We hung up when I was pulling into the parking lot of the event venue, and I immediately spotted a tall blonde man as I walked through the back path.

Joe was pouring the contents of a can into a glass when I walked behind the counter and up to him.

“Hey, hot stuff.” - you grinned

His head shot up at the sound of my voice, and a grin spread across his lips.

“Hey, lovey.” - Joe smiled

I rolled my eyes playfully at the nickname. Back when we were in high school, we were discussing pet names for each other, and Joe jokingly suggested lovey. I initially hated it, but it became an inside joke, and over time, I grew to love it. Lately, Joe had picked up on the fact I didn't hate it as much as I made it seem like I did, and now he called me it all the time.

“I made you this.” - you

Handing him the smoothie, I watched Joe’s face light up, and I giggled when he leaned down to kiss me.

When he pulled away, Joe opened the cap and took a drink, my eyes lingering on how his adam’s apple bobbed with very swallow.

“Shit. That’s good.” - Joe

“You think? I tasted it and gagged, but I was hoping you would like it.” - you

Joe laughed and took another chug before closing the cap and setting the bottle down.

I furrowed my brows at him when he took a step back and flicked his glasses down onto his nose, his hot gaze looking me up and down a couple of times before he met my eyes and smiled.

“What?” - you laughed

Joe walked towards me and pulled me into him, squeezing me gently before nestling his mouth against my ear.

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous.” - Joe

He leaned back and winked at me before asking a question.

“Is this a new fit?” - Joe

“Kinda. This is your shirt, but the romper is new, yes.” - you

“Oh shit, that shirt’s mine? But anyway, you need to buy that romper in every color.” - Joe

Joe’s words were the more PG version of his thoughts, which were running wild.

God, her bump is so sexy, and her tits look amazing.

Someone called Joe’s name from the parking lot and I turned around to see who it was, completely unaware of the fact I was driving Joe insane. The person calling Joe ended up being Coach Taylor who waved over at us before walking off to get registered.

Holy shit, her ass- damn it, I'm getting hard.

“Hey, I forgot my sunnies at home. Do you have an extra?” - you

Joe reached into his pocket, and that's when I realized he changed his outfit since he left the house.

“What the hell? When did you change?” - you

He chuckled as he pulled out the other pair of sunnies from his pocket and pulled off the ones he had on.

I picked the ones he already had on, and he handed them to me before putting his backup pair on his face.

“I changed when I got here. It’s too hot right now for the outfit I picked out originally. I'm surprised it took you that long to realize.” - Joe laughed

“I’ve got pregnancy brain, JB.” - you

“True. Hey, Imma go find some of the guys, but I don't want you to be by yourself, so I’ll walk you to my parents first.” - Joe

I nodded and looked around at the decorations under the tent a few yards away, completely oblivious to the fact that Joe had just looked down at his crotch and groaned out of annoyance with the fact that you could tell he was semi-hard.

It wasn't until he moved forward to be covered by the counter when he dropped his hand down the front of his shorts that I realized what he was doing.

“Joseph Lee, what the fuck are you doing?!” - you

“Adjusting.” - Joe deadpanned

I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the cocky smirk on my lips. Knowing I could always turn Joe on was such a confidence boost when I didn't feel very attractive.

Just a few moments later, Joe escorted me over to Robin before meeting up with a couple of the guys on the course to take a picture.

I was sitting a little bored, and a picture that Joe was tagged in came up on my Instagram feed. It was a BTS picture that someone took of Joe taking a picture with some of the guys. I internally giggled when I saw the slight bulge in Joe’s shorts from minutes before he walked off.

That man will always keep me on my toes.

-

It was later in the day, and I was currently fetching Joe his clothes from his Porche.

Joe was in the single-stall men’s bathroom, and I looked around before knocking on the door.

“It’s y/n.” - you

A few seconds of silence went by before Joe spoke up.

“Tell me something only y/n would know.” - Joe

I, in return, whispered the baby’s name into the crack of the door since only Joe and I knew it, and seconds later, I heard an unlock sound. I opened the door and closed it right behind me. Joe was standing against the sink in just his boxers and socks. After handing him his jeans and Nike shirt, Joe thanked me before slipping them both on.

“Do I look fine?” - Joe

Joe smoothed his hands down his chest, attempting to get some wrinkles out of his shirt because he knew his mom would comment on them.

“Fine as hell.” - you grinned

He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss, my hands reaching up to play with the baby curls on the back of his neck.

“I love this hair.” - you

“I know you do. It’s getting a little too long for my liking, though.” - Joe

“What? You don't like how it looks?” - you

Joe sensed that I was on the verge of jumping into a huge rant about how good his hair looked, so he immediately reassured me that that wasn't the case.

“No, I like it longer, and I know you do too. I just don't like the maintenance.” - Joe

“I’ll fix it every day if you want. I can fix it when I do the boy’s hair.” - you

“Baby. I’m not gonna make you fix my hair. That’s crazy.” - Joe

“But I love it, and if you're thinking about cutting it because you don't like fixing it, I’ll start fixing it!” - you

Joe just laughed at me before pulling me into his arms. One of his big hands rubbed my back as he laid his cheek against my forehead.

“You need to calm down a little bit, lovey. I'm getting it cut tomorrow morning, and I've had it scheduled for a while as a routine trim.” - Joe

“Nooooooo.” - you

I felt him chuckle, and I rolled my eyes. Joe knew this was just a product of my extreme emotions from pregnancy.

“It’ll be okay. But we should go before my mom comes looking for us.” - Joe

-

“Hey, can you sit with her while I'm up there giving my speech? She won't go up there with me.” - Joe

After refusing to stand up on the stage with him, Joe had just directed me to sit down at a table at the back of the tent where he'd be on stage delivering his speech and walked over to Sam after.

I didn't know Joe had asked him to sit with me, so I smiled when Sam sat down next to me. I’d known Sam for years, as long as Joe had known him, so I'd say I knew Sam the best out of all of Joe’s teammates.

“Hey, Mrs. B.” - Sam smiled

“Hey, Sam. Have you had fun today?” - you

“For sure. Joe asked me to sit with you while he was up there delivering his speech. Are you not feeling well or something?” - Sam

Of course, he did.

“I’m fine. Your bestie is just a helicopter husband and gives me a babysitter when he's not with me. I thought it was sweet at first, but now it's a little annoying.” - you

“He’s just looking after his girl, I guess. But Joe’s always been super protective of you, so I can't imagine how worse it gets when you're pregnant.” - Sam

“Lately, he tries to follow me into the bathroom when I say I have to use it.” - you

I laughed at Sam’s grimace but stopped when Robin started talking into the mic. My attention shifted to Joe when I noticed him biting the insides of his cheeks, something he does when he's nervous. His hands were hidden behind his back, but I knew he was probably picking at his fingernails. I probably should've gone up there with him, and at that moment, I regretted telling him no.

After Robin’s adorable introduction of her son, Joe took the mic and jokingly thanked his mom. Butterflies swarmed my stomach at the sound of Joe’s deep voice through the many speakers. He went on to thank everyone for coming, specifically naming his teammates and the Bengals personnel. But his next part caught me off guard.

“And I've gotta thank someone specifically, which is my best friend who made it apparent to be here to support me and the foundation.” - Joe

Sam and I looked at each other, not exactly sure who Joe was giving a shout-out to because Ja’Marr wasn't there. Maybe it was Sam.

“She’s the First Lady of the foundation, you might say, and that is y/n. The beautiful and amazing woman that I'm proud to call myself the husband of.” - Joe

My heart dropped, and almost everyone turned around and looked at me. My cheeks immediately turned red, and Sam nudged me with his elbow.

“She’s here today, though she’s eight months pregnant with our third, and she’s been nothing short of perfect. You've probably seen her running around making sure everything was in order and also babysitting me and making sure I was where I needed to be. I just wanted to say that I'm extremely grateful for you, and thank you everyone for coming.” - Joe

Joe handed the mic back to his dad, and I struggled to try to hide the fact that my eyes were getting misty, so I discreetly wiped my eyes as I stood up. As they were leaving the stage, Joe and I made eye contact through the crowd, and he started making a B-line for me.

Just as I was meeting Joe in the middle of the floor, he was swept away by a couple of people on the Bengals staff, so I went to talk to Robin instead.

In the ten-minute conversation I had with Robin, she told me that the part of Joe’s speech where he mentioned/thanked me wasn't planned. He'd told her what he was going to say before they went up on stage, and I wasn't a part of it. Robin said he must've decided to say something in the moment, and to me, that made it sweeter.

After a few moments, I decided to go find Joe to tease him about his mention of me, and when I found him talking to a group of guys with his back to me. I tapped his shoulder, and he shrugged me off, continuing his sentence about how practice was going. I tapped him again, and he stopped his sentence with a sigh.

“I’m busy.” - Joe

Since he didn't turn around, I tapped him again. Sam was standing across from Joe, so he could see that it was me.

“Joe you should…” - Sam

“I’m talking!” - Joe

Joe had finally turned around, but the glare of the sun and his dark sunglasses prevented him from seeing who it was that had been previously tapping his shoulder. You didn't know that, though. He was frustrated, but I was taken aback when he yelled at me. In our almost ten years of dating, Joe had never fully yelled at me. He’d raised his voice slightly or carried an annoyed tone a couple of times before but never yelled.

I turned around in shock and sped off, speedwalking out of the tent and towards the parking lot. Maybe I was being dramatic, but I couldn't stop the tears from pricking in my eyes.

When Joe finally started his conversation back up, all of the guys were looking at him like he was crazy, and he didn't know why.

“What?” - Joe

“Did you see who that was?” - Sam

Joe shook his head no and explained that his vision was blocked by the glare of the sun, and all of the guys groaned, Sam even facepalming as Joe stood confused.

“That was y/n, Joe!” - Sam

All of the colors left Joe’s face when he realized he'd just yelled at me, and he immediately turned around to see where I went. He saw me walking down the end of the sidewalk, and just as Joe was about to run off sprinting, Sam grabbed his arm.

“Wait a little bit. Let her stew over what happened for a few moments before you go apologize your ass off.” - Sam

“I can't wait. I gotta tell her. Fuck.” - Joe

Sam let go of Joe’s arm, and he immediately ran after me. I had already made it inside the car, so he couldn't see me anymore, but Joe knew where I went.

I was sitting in the passenger seat of my car when I saw Joe through the window. He was probably coming to apologize, but I was kinda mad at him, so I opted to give him the silent treatment before he even started talking.

Joe tried to peak into the window, but the tint was too dark for him to see me, and I rolled my eyes when he opened the door and slipped into the passenger seat.

“Baby, maybe you should lock the door next time.” - Joe

I looked away from my steering wheel and narrowed my eyes at Joe’s soft smile before looking straight ahead through the windshield

“Okay, listen. I'm sorry. I didn't know that it was you tapping me, and when I finally turned around, there was a glare from the sun preventing me from seeing that it was you. If I had known it was you, I wouldn't have raised my voice. I'm so sorry, y/n.” - Joe

When I didn't answer, Joe started getting nervous. Were you actually mad at him? Joe thought.

“Baby?” - Joe

Once again, I ignored him, and Joe began to panic.

“I didn't know it was you! I would never yell at you. I swear. Are you- are you mad at me?” - Joe

Joe stared at me, completely taken aback because he was expecting me to forgive him once he explained and apologized. I’d never been mad at Joe before. There have been times when I've been super annoyed or slightly disappointed but never mad, and that's why Joe was internally freaking out. He knew my hormones were causing my emotions to constantly be x100, and Joe was worrying the worst.

“Answer me, please. You're scaring me.” - Joe

Nothing.

Joe sighed and got out of the car, slamming the door behind him in frustration. My gaze left the tree in front of me, and I watched Joe walk away as tears streamed down my face. I immediately regretted handling it the way I did, but I was afraid that Joe was mad at me now. My crying got harder when I thought of the possibility that Joe could be upset with me, and I ended up crying till I fell asleep.

-

I woke up to the feeling of my phone vibrating on my thigh, and I immediately furrowed my brows when I saw that the call was from Sam.

“Hello?” - you

“Hey… uhm. Joe’s walking around the golf course, and he's super messed up.” - Sam

“What do you mean?” - you

“He’s drunk and high as hell, y/n. He keeps babbling about how you're mad and won't talk to him.” - Sam

I hung up the phone right after Sam said that. Shouting profanity to myself as I opened my car door and stepped out.

-

After making my way to the crowd of Bengals players watching Joe stumble around while mumbling incoherently, I angrily yelled at all of them to fuck off if they weren't going to do anything but laugh and video. The looks on their faces as they walked away told me I was going to be the talk of the locker room next practice. I couldn't care less to be known as Burrow’s crazy wife, though.

Walking up to Joe, he stumbled a bit before standing up straight and putting his hands on my shoulders for stability. He smelled like alcohol, and his red eyes told me all I needed to know. He's insanely crossfaded.

“Joe. Hey, it’s me. It’s y/n.” - you

“You’re mad- mad at me.” - Joe

I wanted to kick myself for thinking about how adorable his slurred speech was because I was pissed at him right now.

“Joe, this isn't college anymore. We have kids, and you can't just get fucked up on a random Friday. I wasn't that mad before, but I'm mad now.” - you

Joe held his head down and wouldn't look at me. I couldn't tell if he was embarrassed and upset with himself or was annoyed that I was mad at him.

“I’m gonna call my parents and tell them that the boys will have to spend the night at their house tonight. You’re in no shape to be a father right now, and there's no way I can handle both of them and you, all while eight months pregnant.” - you

“I- I’m sorry… I just was scared that you wouldn't talk to me, and…” - Joe

“Just save it. I don't want to hear any excuses from you right now. Go find a corner to stand in or something before you do or say something stupid.” - you

-

After an embarrassing phone call with my parents, having to explain that my husband was both majorly drunk and high, I loaded Joe up into the passenger seat of my car and took him home. He’d pick his Porche up tomorrow when he was in better shape.

We had waited to leave until the event was officially over, and everyone was gone. Joe had done as I said and sat in a corner by himself, his eyes never once leaving me. His anxiety was raging now that he had heard me say in words that I was mad at him.

The car ride was silent the entire way home. Joe looked out the passenger window as I drove. I was fuming but decided not to take it out on him yet.

Once we were home, Joe tried his hardest to walk perfectly fine up the stairs. The last thing he wanted was for me to have to help him.

“You should go shower. I'll shower in the baby’s bathroom.” - you

“I’ll use hers. All your products are here.” - Joe

I could tell his head was somewhat clearing up, so I nodded, and Joe grabbed his stuff before exiting the bathroom.

My thoughts ran wild as I showered. It had been a while since I'd showered by myself, and my heart hurt a bit when I reached for my shampoo and had to wash my hair - something Joe usually does when we shower together.

It didn't take me long to finish up, so I slipped into a pair of panties and one of Joe’s old LSU shirts before crawling into bed.

Ten minutes later, there was no sign of Joe. He was usually quicker in the shower than me, so I was starting to get worried.

Before I could overthink too much, Joe walked into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water running down his muscular body. My eyes fixed on the many muscles in his back flexing when he turned around and got a pair of boxers from his clean clothes pile on the couch. He slipped them on under the towel before dropping it and putting it in the hamper.

Joe then walked over to the bed and grabbed his pillow, to my confusion. After watching Joe grab a throw blanket from the foot of the bed, I realized what he was doing. I let him walk to the doorframe before stopping him.

“Where are you going?” - you

“Living room, maybe my office. I'm probably not sleeping tonight so I’ll watch old game film or the TV.” - Joe

Joe was standing there awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and waiting for me to say something.

“Come here.” - you

I caught Joe breaking a smile for a millisecond before he walked back over to the bed. Joe put his pillow back down and tossed the blanket to the side before sliding under the sheets.

Rolling onto my side, my body flushed when I saw Joe’s red eyes. You’re fucking kidding.

“What the hell, Joe?! Are you high again?” - you

Joe’s body stiffens up with embarrassment when he realizes what he has to admit.

“No, I’m not high.” - Joe

My mouth, which was open from disgust and shock, dropped closed when I realized why his eyes were red and why he'd been in the shower so long - Joe had been crying.

Joe’s eyes searched my face when he noticed that I realized his eyes were red from crying, and he started biting the skin off of his lip as a stress reaction.

“Oh.” - you

“I’m so sorry for everything. I don't know what I was thinking- I was scared, and I was already too in my head about football.” - Joe

He went on for a few minutes, babbling as his voice continued to break. I’d never seen him so worked up before, and I slowly realized this wasn't just about today. Joe took a break to sniffle, the dam of tears threatening to break. I pulled him into my arms, and Joe buried his head in my neck. My arms naturally went around him, and I cradled the back of his head to me.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Take a breath for me.” - you

It took him a while to calm down, but I rubbed his back and laid my cheek on his head the whole time. Once I felt Joe’s breathing get back to normal.

“You okay?” - you

I felt Joe nod his head in my neck, and I ran my fingers through the back of his wet hair.

“You wanna talk about it? I know this isn't just about today, Joe.” - Joe

I feel him sigh, and his hand wanders around till he finds the hand of mine that isn't occupied by playing with his hair to intertwine his fingers with mine.

“Football has been a lot, and I feel like there is a huge weight constantly on my shoulders. This season, I have to make a major comeback, and I'm scared it’s not gonna happen. Being at an event like that, where people are constantly asking questions about football, I'm reminded of it over and over. You’re my escape from it all, and to upset you is killing me. I didn't know it was you, and if I did, I wouldn't have yelled. I wasn't thinking, and after you ignored me when I was trying to apologize, I got super nervous. With football not going my way and my only major outlet not talking to me, I was freaking out. My only thought was to get wasted, so that's what I did. I took a couple of gummies and chugged a few vodka seltzers. I was hoping that it would take my mind off things, but it only made everything worse. I'm so fucking sorry, baby. I hope you'll forgive me, but I understand if you don't. I feel awful, and I was such a shitty everything today, a shitty friend, son, husband, and dad. I can't believe you had to send the kids away for a night because of me. I'm so mad at myself, and again, I'm so sorry.” - Joe

It took me a minute to process everything, but when I did, I couldn't stop tears from forming in my eyes. Seeing the love of your life hurting is awful, especially knowing you were one of the reasons for them hurting.

“First of all, you're doing amazing in football right now, and I trust you'll be just fine. You're the same man who came back from an awful knee injury and took your team to the Super Bowl. Secondly, I shouldn't have given you the silent treatment like I did. I believe you completely when you say you didn't know it was me, and I know you'd never yell at me like that. You're not a shitty everything, either. Just because you handled a situation badly doesn't define you as shitty. I think it’s good that the boys will be at my parents tonight, though. I think you need some one-on-one time with me, okay? Just talk to me, and I’ll listen. Don't bottle up anything, baby. Also, I can't believe you thought I’d want you to sleep on the couch. In your words, 90% of my heat at night comes from your body.” - you

Joe laughed a little at the last part of my response before cuddling closer to me. He threw a big arm over my bump and gently rubbed my belly with his hand. I heard him mumble something into my neck, but I couldn't quite understand anything he had said. After asking him to repeat himself, he pulled away from my neck and did just as I had asked.

“Do you accept my apology?” - Joe

“Of course, goofball.” - you

Joe’s body immediately relaxed, and it felt like he was melting into me. At the same time, he let out a breath that neither of us knew he was holding in. That's when it became apparent to me just how much Joe was scared I was mad at him.

“Jeez, Joey.” - you

“Sorry. I was kinda nervous you would say no if you couldn't tell, but I feel better now.” - Joe

“I’m sorry, too. I hope you know that no matter what, you will always be my person. Forbid that we ever have another argument, don't get so scared that you have to lean on alcohol and marijuana. Nothing could ever make me mad enough for you to react like that. I love you forever, Joe Lee.” - you

Joe pressed a few baby kisses on my neck before leaning up and hovering over me. We both leaned in and kissed each other for a few moments, knowing we hadn't kissed in a couple of hours.

“Thank you, lovey. The same goes for you, ya know - I love you forever, and you will always be my person.” - Joe

We just sat smiling at each other for a few moments until Joe rolled over onto his back and pulled me into his chest. My belly was leaning on top of his, and Joe reached over to spread a big hand out on it.

“I feel like I'm crushing you.” - you mumbled

“Girl, please. Do you know what the fuck I bench press?” - Joe

I laughed into his peck, getting lost in the feeling of him rubbing my back as we settled down. I was glad that Joe and I were ending the night on a good note. A few minutes later, the sounds of little snores filled the room, and Joe’s chest began rhythmically rising and falling. A smile formed on my lips as I gently rubbed my cheek against him, knowing that his current peaceful state would be interrupted when he woke up with a massive hangover.

At least I won't be the only grumpy and in pain one.

Authors note: This one got out of hand! 😂

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part Eleven

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

Part Eleven

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, honey.”

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

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

“Is everything alright?” you ask. 

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

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

“I can babysit Mayday.”

That catches both of their attentions. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

★★★

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you want two kids?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel nods, watching as you hold Mayday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mwuah!” Mayday says loudly with a giggle. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on.” 

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

“It’s nothing, really.” 

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

You stay silent for a few seconds, contemplating. 

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

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

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

You shake your head. “It’s nothing.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Your eyes… Because they turned red.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod quickly. “Yes, I do. I… I remember when I first learned about them. I was really amazed,” you say as Miguel listens intently. “I thought they were so unique. I still do,” you say softly, meaning it. 

Miguel nods, smiling a bit. He can’t help but feel appreciation for the fact that you don’t find the very features that make him stand out from the rest of you odd or scary. Back in the early days of the Spider Society, Miguel often felt like an outcast among the other members despite being the founder and leader. 

“I haven’t always been fond of them,” Miguel reveals suddenly, as he looks down at his hands. 

You watch as his talons appear suddenly on command, feeling awe. 

Miguel, however, can’t help but look over at your hand, remembering he scratched you back when he was in the infirmary. He can spot some scars that remain from the talons. He looks away, feeling upset with himself again after all this time.

“You never told me if your suit was ripped from my talons.” 

You smile softly, even though you sense a shift in Miguel. “It had some tearing but nothing I couldn’t fix. You can’t even notice it.” 

“I knew it’d have rips on it…” Miguel says quietly. He knew, of course, from experience in his early days after gaining his spider abilities. “I knew it from experience.” 

“It’s alright. Don’t stress about it,” you reply gently. 

Miguel nods but he cannot help but still feel guilty, especially from leaving scars on your body. He eyes your hand again and this time you notice it, realizing what’s going on through his mind and why there’s a sudden shift in his demeanor. 

“Miguel,” you say softly, trying to get him to look at you. He looks up, meeting your gaze again. “Please don’t stress over it. You didn’t mean to and I promise, it hardly hurt. And these little scars, they don’t bother me. I don’t mind them. I have a bigger scar and I don’t mind it at all. Remember the sword incident I mentioned back when we were at the infirmary?” you ask and he nods, remembering. You lift your top slightly, only revealing the scar on the side of your stomach.

Miguel’s eyes travel down to your bare skin, feeling surprised but also moved by the fact that you feel comfortable enough to show him. He respectfully scans your scar, noticing it’s so light but it’s there, on your soft skin. Miguel remembers you telling him how you refused to go to the hospital and now that he’s looking at the scar, he can’t believe you didn’t seek professional help despite knowing your reasoning for it. His eyes meet yours again as he feels a wave of respect for you, yet again, for refusing medical help when you needed it, all to protect Peter’s identity. He also feels admiration towards Peter for tending such a wound on his own. 

You let your top slide down and shrug slightly, smiling. 

“Please don’t feel bad about them. It didn’t hurt me the way you think,” you reassure him. 

Miguel looks away, nodding slowly. He lets your words sink in, letting them reassure him. There is some relief when he thinks about how he could’ve hurt you much worse while being unconscious. Hurting someone with his talons by accident has always worried Miguel, yet it’s a worry he doesn’t have with himself since the talons retract automatically when he brings them close to his skin. 

With all this talk about his fangs, talons, and red eyes, Miguel can’t help but think about how he got them and how he became Spider-Man 2099. He sighs softly, feeling like maybe he could tell you about it now. Maybe he can tell you about rapture and why he took that mysterious neon green liquid months ago with your help. He noticed the curiosity in your eyes back then but like always, you didn’t ask. 

“I wasn’t bitten by a radioactive spider like most spider members were,” Miguel says quietly, wondering if right now is a good time. “Like you.” 

You nod slowly though Miguel is looking down at his hand on his lap.

Miguel thinks about it for a few seconds. In order for everything to make sense, he needs to go back. All the way to his childhood. He sighs again, wondering if this is a good time but then again, is there ever a good time to talk about things like these? Miguel frowns to himself. The evening has been enjoyable and relaxing, like they always are, and he really doesn’t want to ruin the mood now. But… It doesn’t have to be ruined, right? It can’t be if Miguel doesn’t let the conversation become a sad or depressing one. It’ll only turn sad if he lets it, and he decides he won’t. Or at least, he will try not to. 

“I was born in the O’Hara household. To Conchata, who you know by now, and to… George O’Hara,” Miguel starts, pausing when it comes to the man’s name. “I don’t remember my early life, of course. To be honest… I can only remember my life from the moment Gabriel was born.” Miguel smiles softly at the mention of his little brother. “I was so happy about having a little sibling and even more so when I found out it was going to be a boy. I knew we were going to be inseparable and we were - until - until his passing, of course. He made my life so much better.”

Miguel pauses for a few seconds, wondering whether he really should talk about this. It’s something that no one else knows about. The other person who knew about it was Gabriel but with him gone… Miguel clears his throat. 

“I have some fond memories from my childhood while others are not so happy,” Miguel admits. 

You narrow your eyes softly as those words sink in, preparing yourself mentally to hear Miguel. For some time now, you’ve put together that his childhood was not always nice but to hear him admit it, breaks your heart even more.

“George O’Hara… He provided the basic necessities, so that was something at least but he didn’t like me. Growing up, I always wondered why. I wondered if I had done something. If I reminded him of someone. If I was just - not a welcomed child because of the timing in his and mom’s lives. I wondered so many times…” Miguel says, clutching a fist as he stares at it. “I wondered if maybe - I wasn’t enough.”

Miguel’s words cut through you like a knife. You’ve yearned to comfort him so many times before but nothing compares to this moment. You feel an incredible pain in your chest as you imagine Miguel as a little kid, wondering if he was enough, something no one should ever question, let alone a child. Unknowingly, your hands are in fists right now as you feel both anger and sadness course through you but at the same time, it’s your body holding back from reaching out and comforting him. 

Miguel notices your fists, instantly feeling regret.

“I’m sorry,” Miguel says, looking up at you with an apologetic look on his face. “This is too much.”

“No, no, no. It’s…” you state softly but trail off. Yes, it’s too much but not for the reason he thinks. It’s too much because of the vulnerability and the upsetting memories he’s telling you about. It’s too much because your heart is breaking with each sentence and all you want to do is comfort him. If you could, you would’ve already thrown your arms around him and held him as he recollects these memories but you know you still can’t because despite the changes in your friend, he’s still learning to move forward and physical contact is off the table indefinitely. So, you settle for a sad smile. “I’m here,” you whisper softly. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay, too. You don’t have to.” 

Miguel holds your gaze.”The truth is… I want to. I need to, Y/N.” He sighs and looks down. “I need to because I’ve never talked about it before. Gabriel knew because he was there for it but I’ve never actually talked about it with someone. I’ve just - bottled it inside like I’ve done with everything else,” he says so softly, almost a whisper. He looks up again, meeting your gaze. “And I’m trying…”

You nod, smiling softly in understanding. Miguel hasn’t said it out loud but you know. Ever since his incident back in the spring, you’ve noticed the changes, of course. He smiles and chuckles more often with you. He calls Miles “mijo” more often. Then, there’s the Saturday dinners with you of course, along with the many other signs, like him having a more regular sleeping schedule these days. He’s trying. He’s trying to move forward ever since his incident and that means opening up about other parts of his life. You nod again, encouragingly. 

“I’ll be listening, then. If you need anything throughout it or you need to take a break, please let me know and do so, okay?” you say gently. 

Miguel nods, grateful for your understanding. “If you don’t want to hear anymore, you do the same, okay? Please don’t hesitate to tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings, I promise. I know it may - be too much,” he says with a heavy sigh but still waits for you to acknowledge his request, wanting to know that you understand that you can stop him at any time if you feel uncomfortable hearing what he’s sharing. 

You nod. “I will.” 

Miguel nods and sighs again. “I don’t want this to be some - sad thing. I just need to talk about it,” he says quietly. “It used to hold a lot of power over me, especially in my early twenties. I wasn’t the man I’m now,” Miguel says and then chuckles a bit. “I don’t think you would’ve liked me back then, to be honest. I was very arrogant.”

You smile softly when he chuckles, wondering what he means.

“Yeah, you would’ve not liked me,” Miguel says thinking about it more. He was quite arrogant back then and you, well, you seem like you’ve always been this way: sweet and kind. He shakes his head softly and decides to just get it out. “There was physical and verbal abuse from George. For everyone in the household. Mom and him argued a lot. I hated it so much but especially for Gabriel,” Miguel says looking at you. “He used to get so scared when they argued. If the fighting started and I wasn’t in the room, he’d run to find me. He’d burst into my bedroom, his little face marked by fear and all I could do was just - hold him to calm him down, which always made George angry.” Miguel shakes his head softly at this. 

“We were very close; Gabriel and I, and it made George so furious. I used to think that it was because he wished he had that bond with Gabriel. That he wished Gabriel found comfort in him as well but no. It was just his ego and his ideas. He was the kind of man that believed that boys shouldn’t cry,” Miguel says evenly, remembering the many times George berated him as a child for crying. “He used to scold me for doing so when he… When he hurt me. He probably thought Gabrielito was weak for getting scared when he and mom argued, which just makes my blood boil,” Miguel continues with clear anger in his voice despite the time that has passed. He clears his throat softly, trying to let go of this anger but the memories of little Gabriel clinging to him, shaking in fear are still too painful. Gabriel’s voice echoes in his mind then. 

“Is everything going to be okay?” he’d ask Miguel, and of course, Miguel would say yes for his sake. 

Miguel goes quiet for about a minute, trying to calm down. He reminds himself you’re there, nearby, and that it’s okay. He’s okay. 

You sit still by his side, listening respectfully and letting Miguel take his time to navigate through these memories until Miguel sighs softly, nodding to himself. 

“After many years of living like that, mom finally divorced him. He ended up marrying again and he cut contact with us completely. He died pretty young,” Miguel says. “That was the end of George O’Hara in our lives. At least physically. My mom… She had phases. Sometimes she was amazing, the way a parent ought to be to their child and other times - she wasn’t great, with me at least.” 

“... with me at least.”

You sigh silently, remembering Miguel has talked a little about his mom and their relationship. 

“My memories of her are mixed. There were months that were great, like the holidays. Even on those days George was somewhat decent, too. She’d cook and she’d let us help. She’d tell us that we needed to learn to cook,” Miguel says and smiles sadly. “She said she didn’t want her sons to not know how to fend for themselves in the kitchen nor did she want us to think that cooking was a woman’s chore or duty like George did, so she’d teach us during those days when he was still at work to avoid making him mad. Those were good days and then there were the bad days… It was as if she resented me. I thought it was because of George - because I reminded her of her abusive and controlling husband. I couldn’t understand why. I used to think it wasn’t my fault that there was a resemblance to him… She’d barely talk to me sometimes except when it was necessary. She’d get mad at me for anything on those days. I was the older child, so I always noticed the different way she treated Gabriel, something I never resented him for, of course. It just made me wonder… And then it would pass again and she’d be great for a few weeks or months before the cycle repeated.”

Miguel pauses for a few seconds, taking a deep breath. 

“Once I was older and could be independent, I limited my contact with her. Gabriel always tried with her and I don’t blame him, she was our mother after all but I couldn’t just forget about everything. I became a geneticist and started working at Alchemax. It was all great at first but I started to see the reality of everything. Alchemax controlled the city,” Miguel pauses. “There was a lot happening with that, but what changed everything was an experiment. We were trying to imprint genetic codes into a human’s physiology. The goal was to have humans with superhero skills, like Spider-Man. We were in the early stages when an executive demanded human trials to start. It was too soon but it was an executive order. Our subject, he… turned into a creature and died shortly after. The experiment was a failure. After what happened, I didn’t want to keep working at Alchemax, so I made up my mind to quit and scheduled a meeting with a higher up. He was an executive at the company.”

Miguel turns to you, meeting your gaze. “There was a drug called rapture here in Nueva York. It was horrible and highly addictive because it binded to an individual’s DNA, which made it impossible to recover from. Alchemax was the only manufacturer for it, so just keep that in mind. When I went to meet with my boss, he gave me a drink. I thought it was harmless, of course. After telling him that I was leaving the company, he told me the drink was laced with rapture. He suspected from the start that the purpose of our meeting was for me to give him my resignation.” 

You hold his gaze, feeling shocked and in disbelief, though you try to mask it as best as possible. Your thoughts take you back to two months ago when you injected a neon green liquid into Miguel. You silently wonder if it was rapture; if Miguel is still managing an addiction. 

“Tyler Stone’s plan, that was his name, was that I’d stick around to have access to the drug through Alchemax. Since Alchemax was the sole distributor, he was going to make sure I’d have no access to it. The only other way would’ve been through the black market, so he threatened to have me arrested, which would’ve been easy as he had the police in his pocket. I agreed to stay but I had a plan. I didn’t want to be addicted for life, so I decided to get rid of my addiction by overriding my DNA using the same procedure I had used before. I’m sorry if this is boring,” Miguel says with furrowed eyebrows.

You shake your head, letting him know it’s not. “It’s not. I’m listening, I promise.”

Miguel nods slowly. “I had been using my own DNA in the experiment to test. So, my plan was to override the DNA that was basically corrupted by rapture with a copy of my saved DNA from the database. I wasn’t sure if I was going to survive the procedure but… It was either death or I’d be an addict by morning. So, I proceeded. It was sabotaged by a coworker, who changed the DNA. My DNA… it ended up being spliced with a spider’s genes because of him. So now, fifty percent of my DNA is spider DNA,” Miguel says quietly. “Do you remember a few months ago when you helped me inject a green liquid?” he asks. You nod slowly. “Those are suppressants. They stabilize my DNA because of the spider DNA,” he says softly. 

After a few seconds of silence, Miguel looks up again. “That’s how I became Spider-Man. The thing is - It was a while later when I found out that Stone didn’t even lace my drink. He only gave me something that imitated rapture’s effects. He wanted to keep me tied to Alchemax no matter what. It was like a slap to the face when I found out I had gone through all of that trouble for nothing. Then - there was something else I found out only a minute later after I overheard that. My mother confronted Stone about it - about rapture, and that’s how I found out that I had an imitating drug along with the fact that Stone was actually - my biological father.” Miguel pauses, taking a few seconds to breathe. “I heard her admit it. I heard her say that she knew I always believed she disliked me because I reminded her of George, only to tell Stone that I reminded her of him more each day - because he was my father. Stone and my mother had an affair while she was already married. After so many years… it finally made sense, why she treated me the way she did sometimes. It was her guilt about the affair… so, there’s that.”

Miguel pauses and sighs, feeling strangely… lighter. “Becoming Spider-Man changed me, not only physically and genetically but… mentally. It changed my character. I began to try and be what a Spider-Man ought to be. You know I was so - arrogant before. So prideful. Becoming Spider-Man taught me to become better. It made me want to help people, and so I tried my best and became a decent superhero. So much, that one time my mother said I ought to be more like Spider-Man 2099. I got so upset I told her I was Spider-Man 2099. She didn’t believe me. She laughed,” Miguel says remembering that incident. “Things changed later on and we had a better relationship, which I’m glad for. Our last years together were far more peaceful. It felt like a real family at last without secrets and abuse. I still feel some resentment towards her sometimes but I’ve moved on for the most part. Slowly but surely. So… that’s how I became Spider-Man,” Miguel finishes in a calm tone. 

Now done, Miguel leans back on the couch and begins to move his hands but stops when he feels softness. He looks down, finding your sweatshirt on his lap. He left it on the couch earlier  when he first arrived to return it to you so you can wear it for the week, but at some point while talking, he pulled it and has been holding it closely without even noticing. There’s still a light trace of your scent on it but it’s mostly gone and replaced with his own since he keeps it close during the night. He can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed right now in your presence as he remembers how he wakes up every morning. No matter how he holds it before falling asleep, he wakes up every morning with his face buried in it, as if he can’t get enough of your scent. 

He looks up at you at last, finding a soft expression on your face, though he can also tell you’re processing everything he has shared with you. He sighs deeply, staring at you silently for a few more seconds, feeling something. Relief. Freedom. It’s like a major weight has been lifted off his shoulders; one he didn’t know he was carrying around. He sighs again but this time easier and less deeply. He smiles softly at you. 

“I didn’t expect to feel like this but I feel lighter?” he says, sounding more like a question. “I didn’t imagine talking about it would feel this… freeing”

You return his smile and nod slowly, still trying to wrap your mind around everything Miguel has shared, yet you feel happiness for him when he says that he feels lighter. Even though what he has shared with you was hard to listen to, you’re thankful that Miguel felt comfortable enough to tell you about it.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you - uncomfortable,” Miguel says. “But please don’t worry about it. I’ve been over it in a way. It’s just something I’ve been carrying around, and now that I’ve said it, I feel like it truly has zero power over me. Thank you for listening,” Miguel whispers, still holding your sweatshirt. He lets his fingers grasp it tighter, letting them sink into the softness of it. 

You sigh softly, feeling that lightness he has mentioned, as if it was your own. Smiling, you nod again. “Always,” you whisper, earning yourself a soft smile from the man next to you. You notice at last that he has your sweatshirt on his lap, remembering that it was draped over the armrest earlier. You were listening so intently to him the entire time that you didn’t notice at what point he pulled it onto his lap. You don’t fail to notice now, however, how his fingers are lost in the fabric as if he’s seeking its softness or maybe its comfort. You can’t help but feel tenderness at the thought. Maybe you did comfort him physically somehow, even if it was just through your sweatshirt. 

Miguel looks down at the sweatshirt, staying quiet for a few seconds before he looks up again. “How about that café de olla and pan dulce?” he asks softly, preparing to stand up but you stand up faster than him with a smile.

“I’ll get it for us, don’t worry,” you say softly, wanting to serve the coffee for the two of you. You want to do as much as you can to comfort him right now after everything he has shared with you. 

You quickly check the baby monitor before you head off though. Mayday has continued to sleep peacefully the entire time but you still want to make sure. Feeling satisfied, so you place it back on your coffee table before walking to the kitchen and retrieving the thermos Miguel brought. You place it on your counter and open your cupboards to get mugs. Over the last two months, you’ve done some more organization in your kitchen and it led to you finding an old mug your parents bought for you when you were a teenager. You retrieve it for yourself, smiling as your eyes trace the beige ceramic mug with a bear’s head on it staring back at you. You’ve been using it again ever since you found it after not using it for years because it used to make you sad, but now that you’ve found it again, it brings you happy memories of when your parents were still alive. You place it on the counter and then reach for another mug for Miguel, though it’s a more serious one.

You quickly but carefully pour the café de olla into the mugs. Once you’re done with that, you get some plates as well and grab the bag with pan dulce. You take it to the coffee table and set up the plates before returning to the kitchen to grab the mugs. At last, you reach Miguel with both mugs, ready to give him his when you hear a noise detected from the baby monitor. The two of you look over at it, surprised but also alarmed by it.

Through the little screen, you can see Mayday moving around a bit and yawning in her sleep before she settles down again with the Spider-Ham plushie still at her side. You turn to Miguel once you see she’s alright and carefully hand him a mug, going as far as holding it for him in a way that your fingers won’t brush since you’re still adamant about respecting his boundaries. Besides, you know that Miguel might feel emotionally exhausted after the conversation, so all you want is to make the aftermath as comfortable as possible for him. 

You stand still to avoid either of you getting burned as he reaches for it from his seat, watching his hand move closer to it. You look down at the mug then. The sudden baby monitor’s alarm distracted you so much you don’t even realize you are offering him the bear mug until the last second. You’re about to tell him but you only manage to open your mouth when you feel his hand brush over your fingers on the mug’s side. Your mouth closes just as his fingers slide into the spaces between yours, immediately noting his body warmth and the way his fingers are far more bigger than yours. 

It takes you by surprise to say the least but before you can fully comprehend it, you feel his pinky finger curl slightly around your own as it hangs below the mug. You keep a neutral expression, still worried about getting Miguel or yourself burnt with hot coffee, though your mind is kind of short circuiting right now. You push past it and tell yourself that it’s just an accidental brush of fingers. His fingers are bigger than yours after all and he needs more room to hold the mug; room that your fingers are taking up for him to grab the mug more comfortably, probably. However, as you’re going on about this in your head and you sense Miguel take a stronger hold of the mug, you feel it. 

His pinky finger, which has been loosely curled so far, wraps around yours a bit more firmly before he gives you a gentle squeeze, as if the two of you were making a pinky promise.  He releases your pinky one or two seconds later, fully taking hold of the mug and moving it towards him. You look at him for a few seconds, noticing the way his eyes are on the mug, as if avoiding your gaze.

You look away quickly, trying not to make it obvious before taking a seat next to him. You hold your own mug in your hands, no longer thinking about how you mixed up the mugs, before you set it down on a coaster. You gently pull the bag with pan dulce and a plate towards you, offering it to Miguel with a smile as you try not to think about what happened just seconds ago, though it’s really hard not to. Miguel accepts it, smiling gently as you carry on and open the plastic bag for him to grab a piece of bread. He avoids your gaze as he reaches into the bag, placing his choice of bread on his plate. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

“Always,” you answer in an equally quiet tone as you process what happened.

You grab a piece of bread for yourself before placing the bag back on the coffee table, thoughts racing. You thought it was an accident that he brushed his fingers over yours but now… You walk through every step of the moment, breaking it down in your head. Did you imagine it? Maybe you are reading too much into it? No, with the way you placed your fingers Miguel had a decent amount of space to take hold of the mug without touching you and yet, his hand went for the exact spot where your fingers rested before he slid them between yours to grab the mug. You take a small and careful sip from your mug since the coffee is still perfectly hot from the thermos Miguel stored it in. Okay, maybe the brushing of fingers was an accident but the curling of his pinky around yours? The gentle squeeze? That’s where it doesn’t make sense. It was intentional. 

You break a small piece of bread to eat as the realization hits you. Miguel did that intentionally. The more you sit there and eat your piece of pan dulce, the more you are convinced that everything about it was intentional, including his fingers brushing over yours. Yet, you sit in silence next to Miguel and wonder. There have been so many times when you’ve wanted to comfort him and each time you’ve reminded yourself to hold back out of respect. You wonder if he has ever noticed that. Have you been so obvious about it that he knows? You remember he noticed your clenched fists earlier, so maybe he does. Perhaps Miguel knows that there have been so many times you wished you could comfort him physically. And maybe - maybe he needed that little comfort after the memories he recollected today and knowing that you’re open to physical touch, Miguel seeked that comfort in a small way - just for today. 

You can’t help but brush your pinky next to your ring finger now, discreetly, of course. You recall the sensation, almost feeling the warmth that came from his hand but not quite because you can’t recreate that unique warmth that only Miguel has. You can’t, not without him. Then, there was the feeling of his pinky on its own and how the tip of it was enough to wrap around yours almost fully. This simple fact makes you think for a moment. It’s obvious that Miguel is a tall and big man, so it is no surprise that his hands are large but the fact that his pinky’s tip was enough to wrap around yours, makes you really realize the size difference, which you find amusing but also sweet. 

You silently and briefly wonder what your hand would look like next to his but you don’t spend too much time on this because for some reason it feels wrong. Your thoughts return to the moment, to the gesture. To how his fingers felt warm and strong. To how you felt their weight, which was a comforting one, like when something presses over you but instead of hurting or bringing discomfort, you could lay underneath such a weight because it feels pleasant. You take another sip of coffee as the realization hits you. You enjoyed the way his fingers felt and the way his pinky finger wrapped around your own. You enjoyed the way his warmth seeped into your skin and how his fingers slid past yours, settling between them to take hold of the mug. You enjoyed the little squeeze from his pinky finger. You enjoyed every second of it.

You blink, trying to clear your thoughts but even then you find yourself running your thumb over the back of your fingers, as if trying to recreate the sensation on your own when you know very well it’s impossible. You retrieve your thumb, giving up, before you finally break the silence. “I say it every time but this coffee and pan dulce… The best combo,” you say, mentally wincing at the way your voice comes out because it sounds like you’re nervous. 

Thankfully, Miguel’s face reveals nothing if he notices, which he does, and instead, nods with a smile at your comment about the coffee and bread. 

“It really is, isn't it?” he responds, quietly. He takes a sip of his own coffee, wondering why he did what he did. Why did he do that when he saw the way you were holding the mug? You went out of your way to avoid brushing his fingers as a way to respect his boundaries regarding physical touch like always. It’s one of the things that he most appreciates about you, how respectful you are with him and his boundaries when there have been so many that have disregarded them but not you. Never you. 

Even when there was no other option back in the infirmary, you were so concerned about it, going as far as wanting to request gloves from the medical team. So why did he do it? It was a spur of the moment, Miguel guesses. He saw your fingers and he could’ve taken hold of the mug without even grazing your skin. Yet, before he even realized it, his fingers were brushing yours and then there was your pinky and his mind wasn’t thinking properly because it was stuck on how it had felt to graze your skin even if just for a few seconds. His mind was dazed by that mere sensation and before he knew it, his pinky was curled around yours and then he gave it a gentle squeeze. And it all felt right.

The two of you sit side by side drinking your café de olla and eating your pan dulce in silence. You’re trying to process the fact that his touch was intentional, even if it was small. Miguel continues to try and figure out why he did it in the first place and all he can think about is that he needed it without knowing it after having to recollect parts of his life that weren’t too happy.

You smile softly as you eat a piece of your pan dulce, happy about the little moment as you slowly recover from your surprise. Miguel is trying. Step by step, little by little. You look over at him as he lifts the bear mug to his lips, unable to stop yourself from finding it endearing how much smaller the mug looks in his hand. You smile even more but look away before he catches you, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. 

“Thank you for dinner again. And for this,” you say at last, lifting your mug up and motioning to the pan dulce. You’re silently relieved that you’ve found your voice again. “I’m sorry for the change of plans since it was so sudden but I appreciate it. Dinner was amazing as always.”

Miguel smiles softly, nodding and feeling relieved that you don’t seem to mind what he did. In fact, you seemed to have moved on from it, even though he’s lowkey still thinking about how small your pinky felt when he wrapped his around it. He clears his throat, nodding again. “Always. I’m glad you enjoyed it, and don’t worry about the change of plans, I didn’t mind it,” he replies. 

You smile at him, nodding before you take another sip of coffee. The two of you fall into a peaceful silence again. It’s at this moment that everything Miguel told you rushes through your mind. You listened to him intently and paid attention to every detail but there are certain parts that stand out more than others, like how he questioned whether he was enough as a child because of his stepfather along with his treatment of the whole family or the way his mother treated him sometimes. For a while now you suspected he didn’t always look back at the past fondly but you never thought about the reasons as you didn’t want to speculate about someone else’s life, even less about Miguel’s. You stare at your coffee table, lost in thought, wishing you could say something; wishing you could tell him what is on your mind but you know this is sensitive and Miguel didn’t share his memories seeking your opinion or thoughts. Besides, you think about the fact that it isn’t your place to do so. Miguel needed to let it out of his chest and he wanted someone, you, to listen, not give him your thoughts about it.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about. Please,” Miguel says softly, breaking the silence, knowing you’re thinking but refraining from saying anything.

You clear your throat softly, looking at your mug now. It’s halfway empty and you’re very likely going to get a second one because the coffee doesn’t compare to any other coffee you’ve ever had. You look at the dark liquid, feeling the warmth through the mug on your fingers, reminding you once again of Miguel’s pinky wrapped around yours before he gently squeezed it. You want to shake your head and tell him it’s nothing, but Miguel seems to be able to read you so well these days, that you often feel like an open book when you’re around him. 

“I can’t,” you finally say, softly. “It’s… not my place,” you add, still looking at the coffee because you can feel his gaze on you. 

Miguel’s face softens at your words, guessing it’s about his childhood. “You can tell me. It’s not going to bother me. Or upset me. I promise,” he says. 

Your grip on the mug tightens as you hear his last two words. He promises. It eases some of your worries but you’re still hesitant because you don’t want your words to come out wrong. You don’t want Miguel to think that you’re pitying him or something of the sort because that’s not how you feel. You’re not pitying him. You just want - To do so much but you’re unable to. You’re okay with your words but you’ve always been better at showing your feelings through actions. If Miguel was more open to physical touch, even just a little, you would’ve already had him sitting next to you with a blanket around him or something. You would’ve taken his hand or laid your hand on his shoulder to let him know everything you feel, everything you’re thinking about but can’t say because you also fear your words will be too much for him. 

You must be patient, you remind yourself. One day, you may be able to do it but for now, you will be patient like you’ve always been. You clear your throat and smile softly, looking up at him. You’re about to try to change the subject but the look on his face makes you stop in your tracks. Miguel looks down at you with a soft expression and a smile that, despite how much you see it these days, still catches you by surprise each time, along with a look in his eyes. One that seems to be asking you, maybe even imploring you to reveal every running thought through your mind right now. You find yourself meeting his gaze, wanting to indulge him but there’s still that hesitation, which does not go unnoticed by him. 

“Y/N…” Miguel quietly says with a tone that confirms your suspicions. He really wants to hear what you’re thinking.  

“Miguel…” you reply softly, still holding on to your mug. You shake your head slightly, with a sad smile. You can’t. You must not. 

“Please.”

One word. One single word uttered from his lips. His tone is soft, gentle; the way it’s always with you as you’ve come to notice. Miguel holds your gaze. Your hesitation to tell him makes him worried. Is it that bad that you don’t want to tell him? Even when he’s asking you to share your thoughts?

“It’s that bad… I’m sorry if I ruined the mood,” he apologizes. 

“No, no, no… Miguel,” you murmur tenderly, feeling upset with yourself instantly. Your hesitation is now making him reconsider his decision to share something so personal and that’s the last thing you ever want to do. You already know how much it takes for him to be this open about his past and here you are, making him apologize because he thinks you can’t handle what he has shared with you. “Miguel, that's not it. I promise. I just-” you stop, lifting your hand towards him but stopping midway. No, you can’t do that but your body wishes to. You move your hand back, trying to play it off as something else despite how obvious it is what you wish to do. “Miguel, what I was thinking - I’m no one to say it,” you reply softly, looking down at your mug, holding it with both hands again. It’s better if you do that, you think. It’ll prevent you from wanting to reach out to him again.

Miguel stares at you and scoffs softly. You’re no one? He wonders if you really believe that and if so, how can you? How can you say that you’re no one when you’re his friend? When you’re his only close friend. When you make him smile and laugh. When you make him want to talk about trivial things when in the past he didn’t want to nor could he imagine wanting to do so with any spider member and found it annoying when they tried. Now, he wants to tell you about the most random, insignificant little things that happen in his life, like how this morning when he went to get pan dulce a kid asked if he could help him get a piñata down and how it was Spider-Man 2099 themed or how the carniceros call him “el primo,” now that he shows up more to buy groceries. Or, when he wants to hear random bits of your day like how Hobie and Pav got into a debate yesterday about the best tea. How can you believe that you’re no one?  When he wants to tell you his whole life because he feels comfortable with you. When you sit at his kitchen island and eat the food he cooks with such delicacy to please you because for some reason, he feels a great satisfaction seeing that happy, delighted look on your face when you try his food and enjoy it. When he comes to your apartment for dinner, which means he has visited your universe more than he has ever visited any other spider member’s dimension.

How can you believe such a thing when he has spent more time with you than any other member in the Spider Society? How can you believe that you’re no one when you sensed his troubles, universes away. When you found him, saved his life and maybe in more than one way? When you looked after him while he was recovering with such tenderness that Miguel hadn’t felt in years nor did he feel he was worthy of. When you give him your sweatshirts, rich in your comforting scent, and each morning like a broken record, he finds his face buried in the fabric, as if he can’t get close enough to your scent. He doesn’t know why and no matter how he positions himself before drifting off to sleep, he finds himself like that each morning without failure. You dare say that when your breathing lulls him to sleep each night like a sweet melody. When he could recognize your scent and the sound of your breathing in a crowd. When he buys pan dulce or the Mexican candy he knows you love because he has learned what you love best. How can you say that you’re no one when you mean so much to him?

“Don’t say that,” Miguel says with a frown, feeling upset that you’re undermining your impact on him. That you’re undermining your significance to him. “You… are more than someone to me,” he says, full of sincerity, leaving no room for discussion. “You can tell me. Please,” he continues.

The grip on your mug tightens as you hear Miguel’s words. You look up at him, eyes softening because you know admitting that alone is hard for him, yet here he is, telling you regardless and sounding upset at you for telling him you’re no one. 

He holds your gaze, letting his words sink in and hoping that his eyes give away everything else he cannot say, at least not yet. You’re more than someone to him. You’re his close friend. You matter to him, and you have for a long time. He cares about you. It all scares him - to know that he has someone to lose yet again - but there’s no way out. There’s no undoing what you’ve done to and for him. 

There simply isn’t. He has thought about it over the last two months, especially since you’ve spent so much more time together. He thought of the time before you were recruited, which is easy to remember, for it used to feel like one long, endless day. Now, after everything, he cannot go back. He can’t and doesn’t want to. If he was given the chance today to go back to that day when you first volunteered to organize his lab after Jess commented on the chaos that his lab surfaces were, he would still accept your help despite knowing that he’d be here now, afraid that he’ll experience loss and grief again but at the same time, feeling happy for the first time in a while. 

The fact that he would stick to his original choice is a sign of progress to Miguel. He can’t help but think that his past self, the Miguel from that day, would’ve declined the help immediately if he knew what would unfold over the following months. That Miguel would’ve pushed you away even more if he knew that over the next few months, you’d somehow sneak past the walls he built so high around himself. 

His past self would’ve been angry at himself for letting go. He would’ve been mad for sitting here in your living room and drinking café de olla on a Saturday like he used to with Gabriel. He would’ve been angry for sharing his ofrenda with you, or for telling you about his family. He would’ve been angry about spending time with you over the holidays. He would’ve been angry about sharing something so personal as his childhood and the not so good memories but not the Miguel of today. He cares about you because you’re his friend, and he wants to hear what’s on your mind. 

You nod slowly, seeing different emotions and thoughts on Miguel’s face; his eyes revealing things to you that his lips cannot yet disclose. You take a deep breath and at last reveal your thoughts.

“I just - I need you to know that I don’t say this with pity nor do I think you need to hear it from me, or anyone but…” you trail off continuing a few seconds later but in a whisper. “What you said about wondering if you were enough when you were little. About your mom and how she treated you, about your stepfather… I just want to tell you that you…” 

You look down at your mug, wondering why the words are so hard to say; why your heart is racing and why your hands are suddenly stuck to the mug thanks to your spidey abilities, something that is only possible when you wish for it these days, though in your early days as Spider-Woman it happened too often when you were nervous. You ignore it and look up again at Miguel, finding a small moment of opportunity.

“I wish everything was different. I wish - you deserve so much more,” you softly but quickly whisper at last, wanting to get the words out before they get trapped in your throat again but with a gentle tone that will reassure Miguel that you’re not judging him nor his life, nor are you pitying him, but rather express that you genuinely believe he deserves better than the cards life has dealt him. “You deserve so much more and you are worthy. You’re more than enough. You always have been. You always will be. Arrogant or not. With brown or red eyes. With talons and fangs, or none of it. Superhero or not. You’re a person and you’re more than enough. I know you probably don’t need to hear it these days from me or anyone else but - that’s what I wanted to say,” you finish and look down at your mug to escape his gaze, hoping that he doesn’t find your words to be too much; hoping that you didn’t overstep a boundary. You grip your mug, waiting for him to say something, anything. 

Miguel watches as you turn away, sensing your uncertainty on revealing your thoughts. He initially believed that your thoughts were harmless, just like they’ve proven to be, but then your hesitation made him worried.  Now, he understands why you were unsure of sharing them. For him and his boundaries. You’ve always been so careful and attentive to the way that certain things can be a little too much for him at times after being distant with everyone for so long. Like always, you were thinking about not making him uncomfortable. Like always, you are so considerate, so respectful.  

Miguel feels an itch to move closer to you, to comfort you the way you were trying to comfort him earlier because yes, he noticed it. He’s noticed almost every time you’ve reached out and stopped midway, remembering and respecting that line regarding physical touch. Yet, he wishes he could put his hand on your shoulder right now to get your attention. He wishes he could let his hand’s warmth be an indicator that he’s not upset but that he’s… touched. He’s touched by the fact that you think he’s enough because quite frankly, no one has ever said that to him. He tells himself it’s not something he needs but hearing it - it does something to him in that moment. 

There’s a feeling in his chest. It’s heavy and it makes his heart race. It’s so strong he even feels a little breathless as your words settle in his heart. For so many years, he has believed that he didn’t need to hear those words. Not anymore. Not since he was a child. Yet, hearing you utter those simple words - it makes him wonder if a part of him has needed them all along. Miguel feels accepted, especially after you mentioned that he was worthy with or without the very features that have always made him feel like an outcast. It’s those same features that have led to doubts about himself - about his physical appearance. He doesn’t know if it was that obvious, or maybe you were just able to pick up on his insecurities, but he knows you’re not just saying those words to say them. The fact that you mean them - it makes Miguel feel accepted and appreciated, and like a part of him has healed even. He gulps softly, feeling a knot beginning to form in his throat. He grips his own mug, suddenly feeling the clay texture. He looks at it, noticing the bear’s face on the mug for the first time. He smiles at it before turning his gaze back to you, his dear friend.

“Thank you, Y/N…” Miguel says, once he feels that knot in his throat loosen up. 

You look up, slowly. Miguel’s tone is somehow softer than before and when you meet his gaze, you can’t help but notice that his eyes look misty. He nods, smiling softly at you. The sight makes your heart race with heartache, for you can see that your words have struck something in Miguel, making you realize that maybe, he did need your words after all. A sense of relief also rushes through you at seeing that Miguel took your words well, so you smile back.

“Always, Miguel,” you whisper softly, holding his gaze before you look away to give him a moment. “I know that must not have been easy… Thank you for trusting me,” you add, knowing that it must take a lot of courage to talk about something like this. 

For a minute or two, you give Miguel some space and think about what he said earlier, about him trying. He has even brought up the words you said to him a while ago, about how talking helps with moving forward, which you find endearing because that means he has taken your words to heart. Filled with gratitude to Miguel for sharing something so personal and optimistic for his healing journey, you look at his coffee mug, remembering the bear mug. You smile softly before you break the silence at last, noticing that Miguel is already looking at you. 

“More coffee?” Miguel nods, ready to get up but you stand up before he does again. “I’ll get it for you!” you say, placing your own mug on a coaster before you retrieve the thermos from where you last left it, wishing nothing more than to comfort Miguel even in this small way. Once back on the couch and the thermos in your hand, you motion for his mug. He holds it out steady and away from both of you and your couch, to avoid any injuries or spills on it. You serve him coffee before you refill yours and settle back on the couch next to him. 

The two of you continue to drink and eat your coffee and pan dulce in yet another moment of silence, as you can sense that Miguel seems to need a moment to gather his thoughts. 

Internally, Miguel feels content as he drinks from the bear mug and finishes eating his piece of pan dulce. The knot in his throat has dissipated, and so has the mistiness in his eyes. Yet, he can’t stop thinking about your words. They keep echoing in his head because they mean that much to him. Then, there’s the fact that he’s shared something so personal and triggering for him from the past with you, but he did it. He shared it and he truly feels like a weight has fallen off his shoulders. It’s as if that part of his life no longer holds power over him because it’s out of his chest. Those memories are no longer bottled inside his heart, for him to silently carry alone. 

Those memories are out. It’s done. Miguel’s healing journey is moving along, perhaps slowly but today - today is a win for Miguel and he’s happy that he has you to share it with. He’s filled, yet again, with an immense gratitude to and for you, his dear friend. His mind goes back to whether he would change his decision from months ago and he thinks to himself that no, he wouldn’t change his decision on that fateful day you volunteered to organize the lab. 

Letting his thoughts settle down, Miguel looks at the clock on the wall realizing it’s much later in the evening, and wonders, how is it possible that the hours slip by when he’s with you? He doesn’t understand it. His gaze moves to the baby monitor placed on your coffee table. Just like Peter B. and MJ assured you, Mayday has been asleep without trouble while everything has been going on. He can’t help but think that neither of you should be drinking coffee this late but like always, neither of you really care about potentially messing up with your sleep schedules, though if Miguel is honest, his sleep is unaffected by the rich, dark liquid. As soon as he’s in bed, Miguel falls asleep as long as the recording of your breathing is playing and your sweatshirt is near his face, so he’s not worried about his sleep too much but rather yours. He wonders if he should head home now. You’ve been babysitting Mayday all day and perhaps you’re tired but… Miguel doesn’t want to leave yet. 

He doesn’t want to return to his own universe, to his own home. Not yet. He finds comfort in your presence and the new welcoming place that you’ve created for yourself two months ago. He looks around, taking notice of the changes once again even though he has become acquainted with your apartment. He’s sitting on your new couch and there’s the new rug you also bought. There are new pictures since you last rearranged your wall with photographs two months ago. He’s in some of the photographs, which still feels like a dream every time he sees himself there. It seems so surreal to Miguel sometimes; that you’ve found him worthy of being there along with all your friends, parents, and Peter. And that you’ve allowed him to be a part of your life, that you’ve welcomed him into your home not only physically but also in this way, through photographs. 

Then, there’s the bookcase with your books and some decorations, like little things that you’ve been given throughout the years as Spider-Woman for memory keeping. He can’t help but grin to himself as he remembers what a pain it was to put it together but secretly, he loved every moment of it, even if his cursing might have suggested otherwise, because he was able to spend the entire day here. He helped you build your bookcase but also with other things like rolling out your rug, and placing your furniture in different locations even though he knows you’re more than capable of doing it yourself. He remembers your chuckling when he picked up furniture with one hand like it was nothing, asking you where you wanted it placed. He also recalls feeling grateful that you allowed him to be a part of that process; a process that he needs to start at his own home. Miguel silently hopes that one of these days he’ll have the courage to do it and when he does, that you’ll like to be there for it, too. 

You drink more of your coffee, thinking about the time. You wonder if Miguel is tired after everything, or at least emotionally wise. You hope that if he is, that he will make the decision to go so he can sleep and rest properly but otherwise - you hope he stays around for a little while, even if it’s just an hour more, or even thirty minutes. 

You look over at the record player, remembering the music stopped playing a while ago. Your gaze turns to Miguel, noticing his eyes on your bookcase. You glance at it, noticing the gifts you’ve received over the years as Spider-Woman. Some of the other items, like drawings and letters,  are safely stored away. You stand up slowly, checking the baby monitor to ensure that everything is okay with Mayday. Noticing that she’s still peacefully sleeping, you walk over to your bookcase and pick up one of the items gifted to you. You stare at the knitted figure of you in your suit for a few seconds before walking closer to show it to him. Miguel looks at it, smiling softly before you offer it to him. He seems hesitant at first, as if afraid that he’ll ruin it, but seeing that you don’t retrieve your hand, he takes it. 

“This has to be one of my favorite things gifted to me. It was from an elderly woman who used to have a yarn shop a few blocks from here. She started being targeted by petty thieves, thinking she was an easy target because of her age, so I started being more vigilant around her block. She was always very nice and even baked pies for me on several occasions,” you share, smiling softly as you remember her. “They called her Mrs. Y because of the yarn,” you say with a little chuckle. “She made it for me before she passed away a few weeks later. Her store is still open, run by her family but it’s not the same without her.” 

Miguel nods, holding your knitted plushie and staring down at it. “She sounded like a lovely lady,” he says. 

You nod, turning around to see what else you can show him. You don’t know why you decided to do this but if it’ll keep him here for a little while longer and it helps to lighten up the mood after his conversation, you’ll do it. You look around at your collection while Miguel continues to look down at the knitted plushie. He notices your back to him and allows himself a moment to trace the soft yarn with his index finger, though he’s still afraid he’ll ruin it by accident with his talons somehow. Still, he glides his finger around the plushies’s head before softly gliding it down, tracing the jaw area. He removes his finger and simply holds it as he notices you begin to turn with yet something else.

“This one - it was made by a thirteen year old. She’s eighteen now. Kind of crazy how much time has passed by. She’s starting college in the fall,” you say turning around and showing him a clay figure, painted and everything. 

“You kept up with her?” Miguel asks, with raised eyebrows. 

You nod and shrug. “I tend to remember the faces of people who give me gifts. I saw her a few weeks ago and caught up with her.” 

Miguel nods, accepting the clay figure to look at it, feeling a new level of respect for you for keeping in touch with people who support you as Spider-Woman. 

“The details… This was by a thirteen year old?” he asks in awe as he examines it, noting the small details of the clay figure from the lines of your suit to the shapes. You nod, smiling. “Incredible,” he says, smiling softly. 

“I know, right? She’s so talented. And so sweet,” you say, turning around to look for more stuff. “Oh, this one has movement. It was done by an action figure creator that makes video skits of superheroes - fictional ones, of course, but she made this one and gave it to me a few years ago. Look,” you say as you come closer to him. You lean on the armrest and lower yourself to show Miguel. You press a button and watch with Miguel as your action figure’s arms move in a swinging position. “She makes skits of me sometimes, too, adding me into the mix with the fictional superheroes. She has about a million followers on her main platform.”

Miguel continues to smile as you show him a few other things, feeling relieved that he can stick around for a little while longer before he should probably head out so you can rest properly. You spend about fifteen or so minutes showing him other things and telling him about the people who gave them to you, which further amazes Miguel. He watches you with a tender look on his face as you excitedly tell him about those people, not noticing the way he’s gazing at you. Placing the last thing you showed him back on the bookshelf, you frown a little as you realize it’s the last thing and Miguel will probably leave soon. You subtly look at the time, realizing it’s so much later now and he will most definitely want to leave now.  

“Are you sleepy?” Miguel asks, pulling your gaze to him. 

“No, not at all... Are you?” you ask, holding his gaze. 

“No.” 

You smile slowly, happy on the inside that he’s not sleepy yet, which means he might stay for a bit longer. You nod to yourself after a few seconds, still standing next to your bookshelf. 

“Didn’t even realize the music stopped,” you say at last, even though you did at some point. You walk to the record player again, remembering how Mayday pulled one of the vinyl records earlier. You smile as your eyes scan the titles before you tell Miguel about it. 

“I was able to catch it just in time before it hit her or it got damaged. I can only imagine the fun Peter and MJ are going to have in one more year, or even a few more months, when she’s fully walking,” you say, eliciting a low chuckle from Miguel who nods. 

“Oh, I can imagine alright. She already has Peter running around HQ,” he replies, thinking of the many times Lyla has shown him live footage of it. 

You laugh softly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about as you’ve witnessed it in person before, and have even helped him, along with your friends, catch her sometimes. At last, you pull a vinyl record. You hold it for a few seconds. You usually don’t play her music unless it’s Peter’s birthday or if you’re really in the mood to listen to her because otherwise you get emotional but for some reason, you find yourself wanting to play it now. You put it on, deciding that you can put something else if you find it to be too much even after four years. 

Billie Holiday’s voice fills your living room once again. It’s strange at first to hear her familiar voice, even though Holiday used to fill your ears regularly thanks to Peter. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” you say quietly, walking back to the couch. 

“I don’t,” Miguel replies, staring at the record player as you settle nearby. 

You pick up your mug and drink more coffee as the familiar notes fill the air. You wait for it. For the knot to form in your throat, the tears to swell in your eyes, and your chest to tighten with grief, pain, and longing but none of those things come. For once in four years, you can hear her voice again without crying even when “Solitude” comes on, a song that you related to so much those first years after Peter’s death. 

You drink your coffee and listen to the lyrics, remembering nights in which you’d sit on one of your kitchen island chairs, the one that became your unassigned assigned chair. You’d turn to the other one, knowing its unassigned assigned person would never sit on it again. You wondered, how was that possible when he had been sitting there just hours, days, weeks, months ago eating next to you while you talked about anything and everything. How was it possible that he no longer sat there? He was there and then he wasn’t.  There was no one or anything but solitude as your mind taunted you with memories, filling your already despaired heart with even more torment. 

Smiling softly, you sip more of your coffee and think about your own progress. You glance at a photo of Peter, knowing that wherever he is, he must be happy you’re playing his vinyl records and that you’re listening to one of his favorite artists again without breaking down. You sigh and look over at Miguel, noticing that he seems to be paying close attention to the lyrics. He turns to look at you, his gaze is soft and sympathetic as his mind is filled with an image of you sitting here in your apartment alone. The image alone breaks his heart in pieces, even when you give him a reassuring smile. 

“I used to be unable to listen to her and a few other artists. She was one of his favorites,” you start. “Every time I played it - when I told myself I could do it, that I’d finally be able to - I wasn’t able to and I’d just end up - you know. Crying,” you say, looking down with a weak chuckle. “I only listen to this music when it’s his birthday but for some reason, I felt like listening to it now and I’m okay,” you say, looking up at Miguel again. You smile more brightly this time. “Progress.” 

“Progress,” he repeats, softly. Miguel returns the smile with a soft gaze yet his mind is still occupied by the same image of you alone in this apartment. He heartily wishes, more than ever, that he found your universe sooner because if he had, you wouldn’t have been alone for so many years. Miguel felt lonely so many times when there were people around him. He often wondered what was worse - being completely alone or surrounded by people and still feeling lonely. Yet, as he thinks of you all alone for three years, he decides that the latter is the least worst of the two. His mind is overrun by so many thoughts and images, and the more he thinks about it, the more he wishes he could change the past for he realizes you had no one to talk to about your loss and grief, even if you had wanted to because as Miguel has learned, you distanced yourself from your friends.  

He wonders… Did you only talk when you were out on patrols? How much time went by before your apartment walls heard your voice or laugh again? How many times did these walls witness your tears and grief? It all breaks Miguel’s heart.

“I wish… I wish I would’ve found your universe sooner,” Miguel quietly reveals. 

You smile, touched by his revelation. After a few seconds of thinking, you reply. “You found me at the right time.”

Miguel nods slowly at your words but asks himself, did he? Was it meant to happen until then? Would you’ve still joined the Spider Society if your universe had been discovered a few months before? He recalls that you declined Jess’s recruitment a few times even then and you only joined when she brought up your Peter. He mentally sends his gratitude to Peter for Miguel doesn’t want to even imagine the possibility of you not joining. So, he silently agrees with you that it was the right time if the outcome was you joining. 

You finish your coffee and reach for the thermos to refill your mug, which brings Miguel back to the present. He grins at you. 

“You’re not going to sleep at all tonight,” he mutters, amused. 

You grin as you refill your mug. “I’m okay with that. I’m not sleepy anyway. I’m going to stay up and listen to music here,” you say, motioning to your living room. 

At that, Miguel’s mind wanders. Would you mind if he stayed, just a little longer?

“You’re more than welcome to stick around. Besides, I just remembered I bought some new snacks to try when I went grocery shopping earlier this week. I think right now is the perfect time to do taste tests,” you say, still grinning. 

Miguel grins back, feeling a wave of happiness rush through him now that he’s staying a little longer. “What did you buy?”

With much more lighthearted music, Miguel and you sit on the couch to try the new snacks, little by little. You talk about anything and everything, like what made you buy a specific snack and how when Miguel helped the little kid get the piñata down, the kid told him that he looked like he could be Spider-Man 2099, so Miguel only grinned at them.

You check up on Mayday often, though she sleeps peacefully. 

You both realize it’s morning when you notice the sun streaming through your living room’s windows, announcing the beginning of a new day. Somehow the hours went by in your cozy apartment without your knowledge. Staring at the sunlight, the two of you grin softly as you both realize that you’ve spent the entire night in each other’s company. 

As he takes a drink of water, Miguel realizes that this is his first all-nighter in two months. He’s overcome by this fact alone, for two months ago not having an all-nighter seemed impossible to Miguel but here he is. His first all-nighter in two months, and the first one with someone by his side at that. 

You turn towards the baby monitor on your coffee table. You’ve kept it in the same place the entire night to monitor Mayday and at last, it notifies you that there’s movement and noise. You pick it up to check the notification, briefly checking the time on the clock. It’s past 7:30, which reminds you about the schedule. 

“Right, MJ and Peter said she wakes up around 7:30,” you say, seeing Mayday begin to move around. You grin and show Miguel the screen just as Mayday stretches her short arms, yawning. 

You subtly look at him, noticing the small grin and tender look on his face as he watches Mayday through the screen before looking away, thinking once again about Miguel as a father. You hum softly and put the baby monitor away, suddenly wondering if he was okay with being around Mayday so much yesterday but then remember that he didn’t seem to mind as he did come over knowing she was going to be here. 

“I’m going to go and check up on her. She has her breakfast in about thirty minutes. Peter should be dropping by 9 or so to pick her up,” you say, running through the end of the schedule as you stand up, stretching slightly. 

Miguel nods, shifting in his seat to stretch himself. 

“If you want to come with me you can,” you say, gesturing to your bedroom. 

“Thank you. I - I will. If you don’t mind, I'd like to wash my hands first. I think my hands still smell like the last snack we had,” he says with a sheepish smile. 

You chuckle and nod. “Of course, go ahead. I’ll be in the bedroom!” you say before you head over to your room where you find a sleepy Mayday already sitting, Spider-Ham plushie in hand. You quietly greet her with a smile to avoid startling her but once she sees you, Mayday seems to brighten up. You laugh softly as you reach her. 

“Someone seems happy to see me. Slept good, baby?” you ask her, unable to stop yourself from babying her at the sight of her sweet smile and messy hair. You approach her, expecting Mayday to get herself out of her sleeping setup but no, she waits for you to pick her up, so you do that just as you remember what Peter B. said. 

“She likes cuddles in the morning. Oh - and sometimes she likes to do a spidey dance.”

“A spidey dance?” you asked, with a raised eyebrow. 

Peter nodded before giving you an apologetic look. “Oh man, I hope she doesn’t do it. It’s not a problem since it’s always us who wake her up - this is the first morning we’ll spend away from her,” Peter said with a little pout. “But, MJ showed her this video of someone dancing, or moving like a spider because you know,” he said, pointing at himself. “And she’s been obsessed with it ever since. If we don’t do it, she gets teary eyed with us but hopefully she won’t do it tomorrow with you.”

“And what do these poses look like exactly?” you asked with your eyebrow still raised.

Peter sighed deeply. “You don’t have to do it. Maybe distract her with something else, but just in case, it looks like this” he said, before he showed you said spidey dance. 

You hold Mayday as she cuddles up to your chest, hoping it’s just cuddles for this morning and no spidey dance but you hope too soon because Mayday starts waving her arms around similarly to the way Peter did yesterday when he showed you the dance. 

“Oh…” you say, realizing. You look towards the door, noticing Miguel hasn’t come in yet. “Look - Spider-Ham plushie. Here he is,” you say, showing him to her, trying to distract her. It works for about thirty seconds before she starts waving her arms again. “You’re really gonna make me do the spidey dance, aren’t you?” you ask quietly. “First, you beat me with Spider-Ham plushie, which I’m telling him about. Then, you do the kissy thing with the action figures, and now you’re gonna make me do this in front of Miguel?” you add quietly, amused and yet feeling embarrassed. “You got something against me?” 

With a sigh you sit down and set her down in front of you. You watch in surprise as she starts doing it herself, causing you to giggle. 

“Okay, well it’s cute when you’re doing it. I'll say that,” you say, still giggling. 

Mayday grins at you, happy to show you her little spidey dance but it doesn’t last long. She stops and begins to wave her arms at you, as if telling you to go on because it’s your turn. You look over at the door, no sign of Miguel yet. In fact, you can hear the water running from the kitchen. You turn to Mayday, finding a pout and a sad expression. 

“Okay, okay, I’m doing it but this stays between us,” you quietly say before you copy her dance from earlier, which is supposed to be some dance that imitates the way a spider moves. You run through it quickly, moving your arms around like she did earlier. “Okay, there we go. Spidey dance for the morning, done.” You sit on the floor again as Mayday giggles excitedly, and wonder if she has something against you this weekend when you see it, or rather him. 

Your eyes land on Miguel’s legs before they travel up his body, until you meet his gaze. For the third time in twenty four hours, you feel heat flood your cheeks. You notice the amusement in his face before he turns to the side, trying to hide a chuckle as a cough, though he gives up and just chuckles quietly. You sigh deeply, embarrassed and yet amused. Miguel’s chuckle slowly fades as he leans on your bedroom’s doorway once again, arms crossed over his chest with a grin.

“So, that’s the spidey dance,” he says, tone laced with amusement. 

“That’s the spidey dance.”

“Peter has talked about it.”

“It’s a good thing he’s only talked about it and not shown you,” you reply, finally giving him a smile. “It looks cute when kids do it. Not so much with adults,” you say with a little grimace, knowing Miguel watched you do it. 

“I think - you did it justice,” he says, raising his eyebrow slightly, which makes the heat in your face intensify. 

“Thanks,” you mutter quietly, wishing your Earth would open up right now and swallow you whole. 

“I doubt Peter looked half as graceful as you did,” Miguel offers. 

You shake your head softly but smile, not knowing what else to say to that so instead, you swiftly scoop up Mayday in your arms, taking her by surprise, which makes her laugh. 

“Time for breakfast,” you tell her and then look at Miguel, thinking for a few seconds and pushing past your embarrassment. “Would you like to stay for breakfast?”

Still leaning on the doorway, Miguel grins softly for a second before he frowns, remembering. “That sounds great, but are you not tired?” he asks, his tone laced with concern. 

You grin and shake your head. “I’m good. Are you tired?”

Miguel holds your gaze. “I’m not.”

You nod, smiling. “Then… Do you want to stay for breakfast?”

He watches you for a few seconds, assessing your face to see if you’re telling the truth. He knows you’ve been up since yesterday morning, probably have been awake close to, if not the exact twenty-four hours by now. The last thing Miguel wants is to keep you up any longer. Looking at your face, however, all he sees is your bright smile and happy demeanor, surprisingly finding no trace of sleepiness or exhaustion. He nods at last and that grin comes back to his face as he continues to lean on your bedroom’s doorway, taking up the entirety of the space. 

“I’d love to,” he replies quietly. 

“Great! To the kitchen then,” you say with a smile. “Off we go, Mayday - Oh, right,” you stop and turn around to grab Spider-Ham. “Can’t forget him, can we?” 

Miguel steps out of the bedroom to let you through, smiling to himself as he hears you talk to Mayday before you lead the way to your kitchen. You place Mayday in her high chair and hand Spider-Ham to her, just as Miguel stands next to her. 

“May I help you with something?” he asks, looking around at the clean kitchen since the two of you put away the leftovers at some point during the night to avoid the food going bad. 

You move around your kitchen with ease, preparing Mayday’s breakfast. “I got it under control, thank you though. You go ahead and take a seat or - if you want, you can play some music.” 

Miguel’s eyebrow raises slightly as he watches you prepare Mayday’s breakfast while simultaneously setting up your coffee maker. He looks back at the record player. 

“Okay - I can do that,” he replies quietly before walking across your living room. He stares at the record player for a few seconds. It’s not that he doesn't know how to use it, he’s just not sure if he should touch it since he knows it was Peter’s. What if he accidentally breaks it? With a soft sigh, he tries to ease his nervousness about it and gazes at the collection of vinyls. He reads the titles, trying to see if he recognizes anything besides Billie Holiday. At last, he pulls out a record that catches his attention. He turns to the record player again before he places the record on the turntable and sets it to play, mindful of his every move. He steps back as the music starts playing and adjusts the volume before he heads back to the kitchen island. His eyes find you sitting next to Mayday now, offering her a spoonful of food that she happily accepts. He glances at the stove, noticing a few pans that you’ve set out to start heating. 

“Coffee should be ready soon,” you tell him as you gently wipe the corner of Mayday’s mouth, listening to the music Miguel chose. You hum softly in appreciation. It’s the perfect music to start the day with. “Nice choice of music.”

“Thank you,” Miguel says with a small grin, glad you like his selection. He takes a seat next to you, watching quietly as you feed Mayday, feeling at peace. He briefly remembers this is around the time he heads to HQ on the weekends but he tells himself that he’ll go later. 

You hear the coffee maker finish so you set Mayday’s food down after giving her another spoonful to prepare the coffee. 

“Are you sure I can’t help you with something?” Miguel asks, looking at Mayday and then at you as you retrieve two mugs. 

“I’m sure,” you say as you serve the coffee. “But thank you for offering. Here’s some coffee. Not as good as café de olla but something to start the day with,” you say with a smile as you place the mug in front of him on the counter before you check the stove. 

“Thank you.” 

“Always,” you reply, seeing that the pans are not ready yet, so you return to feeding Mayday. 

Miguel notices this, of course. “I can help if you want. With the cooking,” he softly clarifies because he’s not sure he can feed Mayday without thinking of Gabriella. He wasn’t there for Gabriella’s early years but there were times he’d still mouth feed her. Even though he has slowly found those memories to be less painful to think about, there’s still heartache from them.

You nod softly, understanding what’s happening. “Don’t worry about it. I’m almost done feeding her, see?” you show him the container. “Plus, my stove is on the older side, so it takes a little longer. I won’t be running around doing both things, so don’t worry,” you reassure him, smiling to yourself as you turn to face Mayday. You say nothing else but find it sweet that he’s offering to cook just so you’re not cooking and feeding Mayday at the same time. 

As promised, you finish feeding Mayday and get started on breakfast. You move through your kitchen, listening to Mayday babble to Miguel, who quietly responds back, and the music he selected. The scent of breakfast surrounds you and there’s a lovely glow around your apartment from the sun’s rays. As you check the food on a pan, you think about what a wonderful Sunday morning this is. Smiling, you shake your head softly and continue to cook, brushing off your thoughts. 

At last, breakfast is ready. Miguel and you sit at the kitchen island to eat with Mayday, who keeps showing off her Spider-Ham plushie like she didn’t hit you with it yesterday and allowed you to hear Miguel’s lovely chuckle. All throughout the meal, Miguel and you talk, and simply enjoy the moment with Mayday.

Shortly after Miguel and you finish breakfast, a portal opens up in your living room, causing Mayday to giggle in her high chair. The two of you turn around just as Peter B. steps out. 

“Goo-” he starts but pauses for a second when he notices Miguel, surprised to find him in your apartment. Even though Peter B. knows about the Saturday dinners, the sight of the Spider Society’s leader in your apartment is still shocking. He clears his throat and smiles warmly, somewhat recovering from his initial shock. “Good morning, guys…! Sorry for interrupting your breakfast.”

“It’s alright. We just finished,” you say, standing up. “How was the event?  Did you guys have fun?” 

Peter nods and begins to tell you and Miguel about the event and how much fun it was to catch up with old high school friends. Miguel watches from his seat as Peter thanks you profusely and even gives you a little gift both him and MJ bought to show their appreciation. After helping Peter take everything back to his universe, and MJ and him thanking you again, you and Miguel say bye to the Parkers and head back to your universe. Neither of you notice the discreet glance between the adult Parkers as Miguel and you head out. 

You step out of the portal first with Miguel behind, and head to your kitchen area but he lingers by the portal, looking at the time again. It’s close to 10am now and he’s sure you must be sleepy, so at last, Miguel decides it’s time to go home. He offers to help you clean up and even though you politely decline at first, you end up letting him help you with some things, sensing that he’s about to leave. You finish wiping the last counter just as he puts away the last mug before you turn to face each other in your small kitchen. 

The time has come. 

You smile at him. “Thank you for bringing dinner here again. I know I already said it but - seriously, thank you. I loved it, as I loved the café de olla and pan dulce. And thank you for… Trusting me,” you quietly say. 

Miguel nods, smiling softly. “Thank you for listening to me. I truly appreciate it,” he replies in an equally quiet tone, even though it’s just the two of you in your apartment. 

“Always,” you respond. “I’m here for you.”

Miguel continues to smile and gives you another little nod. He looks off to the side for a few seconds, the words at the tip of his tongue. He’s said them out loud before, just not to your face, back on Dia de los Muertos, when you first uttered them to him. He wanted to say them back that night but he couldn’t. He had to settle for the next best thing, so he said them after you were gone but now… His eyes meet yours. “I’m… here for you, too,” he says, softly, at last.

Your smile grows and Miguel can see a little twinkle in your eyes at his words, though you try to keep your reaction as normal as possible because you know these words are not the easiest for Miguel to express. So, you smile and nod, clearing your throat softly despite the happiness you’re feeling right now.

“I almost forgot - let me get you the sweatshirt.” 

You withdraw to your bedroom, returning in seconds with this week’s sweatshirt. You offer it to him and like always, Miguel accepts it with a grateful yet sheepish look on his face. 

Miguel thanks you as he takes a quick glance at the sweatshirt, already being able to smell your scent on it. He has figured out that the best days are the first four days when your scent is the strongest on it. On the rest of the days before you exchange, he has to bundle up the sweatshirt to get a decent amount of your scent from it. 

He returns his gaze to you, knowing that he must go now. 

“Thank you, for - everything,” he says with a soft grin. 

“Always,” you reply. 

“You should rest,” he says with a little frown, though still smiling as he opens up a portal. “I’ll see you tomorrow at HQ.”

“I’ll see you there, as always. And - to be honest, I’m still not tired.”

Miguel’s eyebrow raises as he walks backwards towards the portal, holding eye contact. 

“But I’ll rest, don’t worry,” you add, noticing the concern in his eyes. 

He nods, satisfied with your words and stopping right at the portal. “Good. You’ll need rest after babysitting for a whole day and…” Miguel pauses, looking to the side for a second before looking back, as if thinking. “.. after the little dance party the two of you had yesterday, plus the spidey dance from this morning. And, there’s also Spider-Ham’s hit to your head. You should really rest,” he says with a serious face, though his eyes and tone reveal amusement. 

“I see,” you say, looking to the side in amusement yet surprise because Miguel seems to be poking fun at you, allowing you to see a side of him you haven’t seen before. You follow along and smile. “I’ll definitely rest. Don’t want my exhaustion and head injury to interfere with my duties.” 

“I would hate for that to happen,” Miguel replies, stepping into the portal, unable to stop himself from giving you a small grin now. “You’re an irreplaceable member of the Spider Society,” he says, meaning it. 

You grin back, sensing the sincerity in his tone now. “I shall rest properly tonight then. I don’t want to disappoint my colleagues.”

Miguel nods, grinning. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See you tomorrow, Miguel,” you reply with a bright smile. 

With that, Miguel gives you another nod and turns around. He walks into the portal, sweatshirt in hand. You watch his back until he disappears, and even then, you continue to stare at the portal until it, too, disappears. You look towards your windows and sigh softly, smiling.

“Irreplaceable,” you whisper. ______________________________

Next Part - Thanksgiving One-Shot

Translations: Agua de Jamaica - hibiscus tea Café de olla - coffee made in a pot Pan Dulce - Mexican pastries; sweet bread Mijo - term of endearment for a male friend or relative; translates to "my son" Conchas - literally translates to seashell; a kind of pan dulce Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead Ofrenda - an altar for Day of the Dead Piñata - you know this Carniceros - meat butchers "El Primo" - "the cousin;" it's just a nickname from the carniceros, they're not actually related to Miguel; Latin people give each other nicknames, sometimes they make no sense lol; don't mind me just imagining Miguel giving reader a nickname in the future AHH

Long A/N: If you read this far, thank you!! I swear I didn't think it was going to be this lengthy! I want to say that the upcoming parts will be shorter but I'm not sure. Either way, if you have read this far in the story, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I hope you guys have enjoyed it! I also want to say sorry for taking so long to update! I got caught up with the holidays and other things like work and family. To be honest, I don't know if I'll have another update before the new year. I will try my very best but I also don't want to post a rushed and unedited part. So, if this turns out to be the last update of the year for "Nonviolent Communication," I'll go ahead and wish you all happy and warm holidays!! ❤️ I'm going to make a few dedications and mentions now. First, I'm going to dedicate this part for all the readers whose birthdays are this month! In one of my posts (you can also spot the bear mug I included in this part here. Did I buy this mug just because I imagined Miguel holding it as soon as I spotted it? Yes, I did), I discovered that some readers have birthdays this month like me, so happy early birthdays to you guys and everyone else whose birthday is on this month! @moonygirlsworld @giulscomix @lauraolar14

This part had inspo from some lovely readers, so I wanted to give them a shoutout as well! @sunsetdoodler has created BEAUTIFUL art for the fic and inspired me so much throughout the story! The detail about reader's version of Peter buying too much merch and their friends thinking Peter has a crush on Spider-Woman was inspired by this fanart! We both have a soft spot for reader's Peter 🥹 The spidey dance idea came from @giulscomix who thought of reader doing it and Miguel seeing her. I really enjoyed writing reader all embarrassed after doing it, haha! So, thank you!

As mentioned before, there's so much fanart for "Nonviolent Communication" - which, I'm so incredibly THANKFUL FOR!! It's one of the best things that has ever happened to me and makes me so happy that I decided to write online again after so many years of not doing so. Thank you so much to the wonderful artists! Please know it means the world to me!!! You can find all fanart in my masterlist. Please go and take a look at everything as these talented artists have brought to life so many scenes from the fic, and show them some love!! ❤️ Very briefly, I don't want to make this even longer than it already is but I want to talk about the script for ATSV. I've seen some fans that work in the industry say that there are several versions of a movie script sometimes and that the version we saw might be an early edition, which makes total sense that there would be multiple, but that doesn't take away my sadness, anger, and disappointment for how Miguel is described in this particular version. I had already started working on this part before the script was released, so Miguel's talk about his features/appearance and him feeling like an outcast, was already in the works. I had a feeling that this was the idea the team was going with based on the way he was talked about by other characters and the way he was animated to move, so I wasn't entirely surprised but I'm still very sad about it. However, I'm very happy by the fact that so many of us see Miguel for who he really is!!! He's a soft giant that has gone through so much already based on what we've seen and he deserves better. I wish it had just been part of the fic and that there wasn't actual evidence from the script that supported my suspicions, but at least I got to tell Miguel that he's worthy, no matter what through this fic. ❤️🥺

In other unimportant but funny news, my Spotify Wrapped revealed that I listened to the song "Nonviolent Communication" 639 times since June 13th (the day I went to watch the movie) and I've probably heard it about 40 more times since the Spotify Wrapped dropped lol. So... there's that! I don't know what that says about me but anyway, that's it! I'm going to try and write short one-shots for the rest of the month and obviously work on this fic. I have a Christmas one-shot in mind and I'm also planning another fic, which has been stuck on my mind for some time and it's making me so sad 😭 Hoping I can launch it sometime in January but we'll see. That's all for real now! Thank you so much for reading "Nonviolent Communication" and for sticking around! All your support towards this fic means so much to me! I hope you all have a wonderful weekend, and again, happy holidays just in case!!! -Alondra

Taglist: @loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1 @darksidescorner @geminis93

[prodbymaui]

Burberry — 정재현.

I see you wearing burberry, my favorite brand

PAIRING: jung jaehyun x fem!reader

GENRE: father's best friend

WC: 3k+ words

WARNINGS: age gap, infidelity, explicit content, mentions of saliva, cum eating, oral sex, reader's a vixen istg, unprotected sex (cover your stump before you hump!)

SYNOPSIS: Your father was happy to have you agreeing on paying a visit to the Jung manor, specifically to your future fiancé Jung Sungchan. What he didn't know was you travelled to meet a different Jung. At least he resembles Sungchan a lot, no?

A/N: dilf jaehyun? ceo jaehyun? why not dilf ceo jaehyun fucking you against his expensive table?

NOW PLAYING... MONROE BY TAEYONG !

Nonchalant munches of greens from your lunch echoes the quiet dining. Despite uncaring of what's happening around you, the stares coming from your father bothers you more than you want to admit.

Your fork clashes the plate. ''Okay, what is it?''

Clearing his throat, Seojin sits up, prim and proper. ''Why don't you go and pay Sungchan a visit today? At the Jung Manor. It'll only be appropriate for you to develop a bond with him as your engagement nears.''

Ah, of course. Back at it again with that 'get close with Sungchan, you'll need that once you finally get married to him' bullshit. Your father is a man of many things and letting you make your own decisions is not one of them.

Scoffing, you mumble under your breath about how he never allowed you to have a boyfriend yet here he is forcing you to marry someone you can consider as a stranger if it's not for knowing his name and his basic informations.

Knowing well that any objection will earn you a month of being grounded, you reply with a sigh. ''I'll go now then, better spending it with the love of my life instead of wasting it doing nothing.''

Feeling as if you would die if you spend any second more in the dining, you pat down the napkin against your lips. Bidding him a goodbye-- the voices in your head lets out a vomiting sound, not fond of acting sweetly to your father.

Your heels clacks the tiled floors, an oversized white chanel sunglasses covers your eyes.

''Jaehyun will be there to confirm your presence.'' His voice lace with sternness. Almost giggling at his words, a smile of mischievousness appears when you turn your back on him.

Oh, Seojin bets his best friend acknowledges his daughter's visit.

A cheerful chatter distracts Jaehyun from the work he is currently doing, the voices sounds too familiar and one of them stirs curiosity inside him. It isn't long before the door of his office opens just as he expects, revealing you clad in your all pastel pink outfit that consists of a bralette, a-line skirt, knee-high socks and mary jane pumps. All those topped with an oversized pink fur coat from burberry.

The man pays no mind, fingers continuously signing the stack of papers in front of him, not even giving you a single glance. You chuckle. This sight isn't new to you, acting as if he isn't affected by your presence, ignoring you as if he wouldn't sock anyone's jaw if he sees them looking at your way. Jaehyun likes playing the strong, conscious clear man.

But certainly, out of people, you know that this act doesn't even last long. Disappearing just as quickly as they came. A brush of your hand against the skin of his thigh is all it takes for Jung Jaehyun to crack, so you did just that.

The sheep stops pretending to be a wolf, crumbling into pieces the moment you settle yourself on top of him, the warmth of your clothed core pressed right directly to the area beneath his belt. A subtly sound of thud pricks your ear, that must be his pen. Sooner, Jaehyun's palms are already snaking their way up to the flimsy piece of fabric that is hiding underneath your fabric.

A smile of amusement and satisfaction shows itself on your face. Jaehyun had never been good at keeping up his facade, pretending to dislike all the things you do to him only to end up drooling in greed the moment you let him touch you the slightest. You figured out the older man much earlier than he expected. He pushed and pushed you away with his so called determination, so fabricated that it was too late before he realized he had you spread out on his bed, pussy dripping in wetness as you beg him to fuck you with his big cock.

''Seojin texted me,'' What a sentence to greet you. If you are to be asked, you'd prefer not mentioning your father right now. Spreading your hands on his chest, you beam at the firmness, licking your lips as you lean to his neck, nosing and inhaling his scent. ''Thought you were here for my oldest son.''

Shaking your head and rumbling a no, you nip the pale skin lightly, closing your eyes when his hands reaches the cheeks of your ass to squeeze, parting them which sends you shivering in his arms as the cool air coming from the AC pans your wet panties. The build up of tension feels like killing you-- You came here for a good fuck and not to be coddled like a newborn baby. Jaehyun knows that well.

You also had learned, over the course of years fucking up your dad's best friend, that Jaehyun gets off of torturing you. Men like he is, they love to parade their power over people, letting them know they are capable of making them feel things only they, themselves, can reprimand. Too bad for him, you've studied Jaehyun enough to realize you hold the same exact power over him as well. You brings out the vulnerable in him just as he knows which buttons to press to weaken you.

Leaning back on his chair, arms on either side with his legs wide open, radiating such dominating aura. Jaehyun rakes his eyes to drink your appearance in, biting his lips as he takes off your sunglasses. ''Dance for me, darling.''

Holding on to his broad shoulders, your hips sways in an enticing way, fingers going through your strands as you hold them up to reveal your neck, inviting him to dig in. If Jaehyun did an attempt of hiding his hunger for you, he's surely bad at it.

Smirking, you place your hand behind you, the chair is close enough for you to settle your arms on Jaehyun's oakwood table. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, the bump in his pants comes in contact with your clit through the fabric as you grind forward, hard nipples evident on the bralette.

Presenting yourself fully in front of him, Jaehyun's definite that you're one hell of a devil. A vixen sent to tempt him, seduce him and lure him to a one-way ticket to hell. One would say he should've resisted, he should've been a loyal dog to Seojin like his best friend was to him. But even loyal dogs strays away with a mere sight of a bone, don't they?

You get off of his lap, standing in front of him as you move slowly, waving to the sensual music only the two of you can hear. Turning your back against him, your lace panties peek after the hem of your skirt, if Jaehyun tilt his head a bit, he would see the full view of the white delicate fabric barely covering your ass.

The fur coat pools around your feet as you brush it off your shoulders slowly, Jaehyun crosses his legs, eyes burning holes to your dancing figure. The older man curses when your bralette comes next, throwing it somewhere far where can only be found if one searches. As you bend over his table, presenting your ass to him-- Jaehyun decides it'll be the last straw. His grip goes from the flesh of his thighs to the curves of your waist, shoving you to his table with crotch pressing against the crack of your ass cheeks.

You'd die if you don't get that dick inside any of your hole now, so you waste no time grinding on him, moaning wantonly like those porn stars that teenagers loves to jack off. Jaehyun lets out profanities. The walls aren't too thick as they look, he hopes covering your mouth tightly will send a signal, or a warning. Whatever way it is that you decode his message.

He makes you face him before he shoves his tongue inside you, licking across every surface, devouring every piece of you. The act receives a gasp from you, arms circling around his neck while trying to keep up with his pace. One of your breasts gets cage by his hand, fondling them as his lips travels to the hardened nipple, biting them a little before licking the sting away.

The lids of your eyes becomes heavy, mouth opening to catch breathes you couldn't do within your nose due to an overwhelming build up of tension. His head remains locked inside your embrace as you arch your back, a hand in his hair didn't know whether to pull away or push him impossibly closer to you.

A yelp escapes your lips when you're, so suddenly, on your knees. Jaehyuns stands before you like a God-- large, domineering, and powerful in all sorts of matter. You're just there, at his mercy with your teary eyes and hands properly on your thighs, waiting for him to instruct you like a puppy. The slender fingers fumbles through his belt and sooner, the length and girth above average is already in front of you. A tug from your hair pulls you out of your trance, meeting Jaehyun's sharp and questioning glare when you look up.

''Suck.'' If your father gets the chance of seeing this, it'll be unbelievable for his eyes. He won't be able to fathom the idea that only a word from his best friend would have you scrambling obediently.

Ever so cruel Jung Jaehyun didn't even offer the slightest bit of signals nor gestures, tugging your head backwards as he shoves his thick cock in your mouth. Thank heavens you've lost your gag reflex a long time ago, courtesy of endless practice, because if not-- both of you would be grimacing at the sight of vomit on the floor.

Jaehyun moves inside your throat like it's your pussy he's fucking, indifferent to the slight pain he's inflicting to you, pricking tears in your eyes. He pays no mind to the struggle on your face, the tears running down that pretty features, honestly it even makes him harder if possible. There are codes and specific actions you both had agreed on so it doesn't worry Jaehyun to be harsh on you. The man knows when to stop. The man knows your insides are screaming in glee.

His eyebrows quirks upwards as one of your hand disappears from his vision, the difficulty is soon replace with pleasure, and he doesn't have to be a genius to find out what goes on. Scoffing mockingly, his grasp tightens, your cheeks coming in contact with the skin of his pelvis area. Muffled sound of surprise vibrates on Jaehyun's cock when he forces a foot between your legs, placing it just right where your soaking wet core sits. Embarrassment fills you, blood flushing your cheeks as you desperately moves against the older's leg, eyelids flickering to the new found pleasure.

Bobbing your head in a way of thanking him, Jaehyun hums in satisfactory, hips meeting your head harshly. The more thrusts he does, the deeper he gets in the back of your throat. The fabric of Jaehyun's black pants darkens at an area, your jaw goes slack as you caress his balls, earning a groan from him that ensures you're doing well. Well enough for him to come down your throat without much of an effort on your end.

Jaehyun pulls you up, sprawling you out on his table. If someone questions the name of his dinner, your name would be the one to be oozing out of his lips. Gasp leaves your lips when the ripping sound pierces your ear drums, eyes widening. Jaehyun is nonchalant to your reaction. He only digs in like a starved man, hot tongue diving in your velvet walls while his hands keeps your legs firmly open.

The pink muscle explores the insides of your core more than it did in your mouth, slurping sounds echoing the four walls of the office. You'd be lying if you deny that your horniness levels up. Jaehyun plunges two fingers without a warning, lips encircling your clit next as he sucks on the bud while searching for the spongey spot that irks you a feeling of euphoria.

Today must be your lucky day. It isn't usual for Jaehyun to be this eager, treating you like an antique vase that got passed down from generations to generations. However, none of those manners shows themselves. It seems like Jaehyun now wants to break the glass vase into pieces, crushing it with his hands until there's nothing left but shards that looks like ashes.

''Jae-- fuck!'' Your head thrashes, hands reaching for air before landing on the edges of his table, gripping them as you hold on to the last bits of your sanity. Hips jerking upwards feverishly, making a mess on Jaehyun's vogue magazine worthy face. It must be the desperation or the friction you've been receiving since earlier that causes you to finally let go, enabling the older man to have a taste of your sweet juices. Jaehyun is once again humming in satisfaction.

But it's not yet enough, no. He won't be sated, not until he finishes with your pulsating pussy stimulating his release. That intense work outs pays off as Jaehyun transfers you to his window, face greeting the glass in a harsh press. His eyes darkens when he sees your expression. Did you just fucking smile?

A slut, that's what you are.

The clutches of his hand stays on the back of your neck. Your legs folds almost completely as the thick shaft enters you abruptly, sending you to clench at the unexpected penetration, mouth forming an 'o' because of how deep it is-- your smile widens even more.

Clenching, drools, or simply; a mess. Those are the words Jaehyun would say to describe your current state. To have you going jelly over his cock, to have you moaning and thrashing for him-- Jaehyun almost wishes he gave in sooner. Maybe he would've enjoyed this sight more often rather than the annoying nags of his wife, whom he never loved-- their relationship was supposed to be all business not until their parents demanded an heir.

The thought of the irritating wife fuels your desire of leaving your marks on Jaehyun for her to see. For her to remember that Jaehyun had never been and will never be hers. For her to be reminded that Jaehyun only loves one woman and that's not the one he married.

Whimpering helplessly, your nails digs in to the skin of Jaehyun's thighs, legs shaking violently to his rough thrusts, even getting on your toes uncontrollably. It's electrifying, the pleasure you're getting. No words can amount to how Jaehyun fucks you with so much passion, as if he'd taken up a sex related major in college instead of business.

Your head spins as you feel yourself flying away, reaching your own euphoria, tears once again racing down your cheeks, throat so fucked out that you are lessen to a babbling mess. A slap across your ass cheeks sends your jerking, high pitched moans near to seep through the doors and let everyone know the activity shared by the two of you, even the 3 year old Yuna. God, poor baby Yuna.

''Jaehyun! Yes, yes, yes.. fuck, yes!'' What are you even saying yes for? Is Jaehyun fucking you so good that your brain got mushed up? Did the honored, top of the class student became a dumb, whimpering mess? That stirs pride inside Jaehyun. He's gonna make sure that you'll never seek sexual pleasure from those college frat boys again, he'll make you realize that you only need a man to feel what a good sex is.

Merciless thrusts continues despite the clear weakening of your legs, arms catching your waist to hold you up. The ringing of his phone diverts his attention for it, smirking mischievously as he proceeds to answer the call.

''Ah yes, Seojin-ah!'' He must be fucking sick in the head, conversing with your father while his brutal pace messes up your insides, tip continuously bumping against your sweet spot that creates white spots in your vision.

''Of course, of course. The kid is here-- she actually looks like she's having fun,'' It's partially true. Your tongue lolling out and eyes crossing doesn't mean you're not enjoying, right? What's causing you to have fun though, your father doesn't need to know about that.

''Yes, would you like to talk to her?'' Jaehyun bites back a laugh when you try your hardest to shake your head albeit drunk on his cock and strings of saliva appearing at the sides of your lips. ''Ah, that's too bad. I'll talk to you later then? Alright, you take care.''

Dropping the phone to the nearby chair, two of his fingers chokes you, making you spit out more.

''Did you hear that, darling? Your father is looking for you, worried that you might've disobeyed him and went out to fuck one of those little frat boys again. Say, is he gonna be proud if he knew his daughter is no longer getting fucked by a hormonal kid? or is he gonna burst out in anger once he finds out that she turns into a desperate slut in the hands of his best friend?''

He groans loudly and with a slight change of his angle, your vigorous movements becomes a telltale sign of your climax. Legs stretching as you stay on your toes-- a white ring forms around the girth of Jaehyun's cock, his moans getting louder as you clenches down on him due to overstimulation.

The inconsistent rhythms of his bucking and the harsh grip around your waist, Jaehyun's cum fills you like a dam. He rides his high together with yours, sharing an intimate and full of tongue kiss as you hear Sungchan's sigh behind the door.

Chuckling at your future fiancé's complains, Jaehyun helps you dress up. ''At least hurry up for a bit, the devil's just arrived. I don't want to deal with her annoying ass again.''

You shake your head at his words, describing his mother as a devil? Pfft. ''Like father, like son, huh?''

''What can I say? Sungchan takes after me. Especially in terms of taste in women.''

[sophvilla]

The more I breath, the more I love you °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

>>>Pairing: Gf!femreader x Bf!Soobin

>>>Content : When your boyfriend Soobin is busy & stressed preparing for the groups upcoming comeback, you plan a whole evening for him to relax and please him

>>> warning : Smut 18+ , smau + written , Fluff, cumming inside, oral ( f. Receiving) nipple sucking , pussy eating, Unprotected sex, overstimulation, petname used ( princess, love , babygirl , pretty baby etc ) , creampie, breeding kink, bulge kink , tooth rotting.

Feeling your Cheeks heat up from How Nervous and anxious you feel about this but you stay put to your plan. Your Boyfriend has been working for the past 3 Month for the Upcoming comeback the Group is having soon without any day off and He still manages to spend As much as free time he gets with you , Being the Perfect boyfriend to you

As you Recall how you feel Soft bunny Lips pecking your cheeks Every Morning and a squeaky Goodbye And Love You from him and how he much he apologises for not Being a good boyfriend to you when He’s doing more than enough for you .

So that’s when you Planned that you wanted to do something for him, You wanted him to know how much you Love Him and how proud you are of him because of his efforts.

Your Lashes Fluttered shut as you Sprinkle yourself in Your Favourite Perfume, Lavender With Warm Vanilla notes , something your Boyfriend couldn’t resist whenever you wore it. Your Heart soaring in Excitement at the thought of him Coming home anytime soon .

With your Hair softly curled sat on your shoulders Neatly , Pink Mary jane that your boyfriend bought you in a Perfect combination with your Babypink Silk Robe , Underneath that sat a beautiful white Lacey Piece of Lingerie that you absolutely Adored and You’re sure that your boyfriend would love it too And Your Freshly done Nails with white and pink design

So you Planned the Whole Evening for him to surprise Him Tonight. Give and show him what he Deserves to know that How much you Love Him and you’re incredibly proud of him .

You are Pulled from Your thought as You Here the familiar Beeps of the door lock, as you Excitedly make your way towards the living room to greet him

Entering the Apartment Soobin shared With his girlfriend , He didn’t expect you at the doorway by this time as you’re probably asleep by the time he’s home these days, But when he noticed your Arms All Open with your gorgeous smile Gracing your face he can’t help but chuckle while walking towards you only for him to pull you into a Tight and Secure Embrace .

Chuckling at you Sign of relief when he Kissed your Forehead as he breathes in your scent, snuggling to your neck to give it a soft peck only to pull back a little

As He kisses your lips slowly and softly with a smile on his Bunny Feature

“ Pretty you don’t know how much I missed this , Missed you “ He mumbles as he pulls away slightly to scan your face

Realisation Crosses his Features as he Takes in Your state

Soobin Didn’t notice what you were wearing because of the dark lights of the whole apartment

But you watch as his Jaw fall to the ground as his eyes roam over your Body , Taking in your Beautiful Godly Gracious Body Wrapped up in your Babypink Robe which leaves nothing to the Imagination, His darken Brown orbs Gawk at Your White Lace covered Breast that looks Flushed Against the Silk Fabric

His now darken eyes meets yours as a smirk take over his face as he walks slowly towards you saying

“Has My Baby Dolled up looking all pretty for me ? “

You unconsciously take steps back , taking a breath at the tension, Your gaze drops as you answer him

“ I wanted to surprise you “

“ Really? My Princess wanted to surprise me? That’s Very thoughtful of you, My Love “ while Caressing your Now red cheeks Affectionately

You Moan as Soobin Started to Leave a trail of soft kisses from your cheeks to your neck

Your Breath Hitches as you feel his Teeth nips a certain soft at your neck that causes you to moan sultry

“ Mhm- Binnie P-Please “

“ Please What ? , Princess “

“ I want you-u to--- “ you Gasp when his Hot mouth trails towards the Valley of your breast .

“ You want me to do what , Princess say it Loud and Clear “ He mumbles against your soft skin while leaving sloppy Kisses as his hands roams down from your waist to your hips , Giving your ass a tight squeeze, parting your thighs with his legs.

You’re in too much of heat for affection and sexual need that makes your mouth go dry , no words being able to come out, Just Heavy Breaths .

You let out a small squeak as Soobin’s hand reaches inside your robe , giving a light slap to thighs as his hands snakes towards your lacy panties .

You inhale a sharp breath as he starts to draw circles at the already wet spot on your panties right above your soaking cunt .

“ My baby is wet already ? , but I haven’t even started it yet ? “ Soobin chuckles lifting his head from you chest to look at your Red Face, full of pure Bliss from the stimulation caused by those large fingers, smiling as He Steals a kiss from you

“ Come on baby say it , Say It to me and I’ll give it you “ He whispers against your lips .

Soobin Fingers stops Giving you the Mere Pleasure causing you to Whimper out of embarrassment as how Desperate you’re getting, Only wanting Soobin to continue with the Pleasure you say it exactly what he wanted to Hear with your eyes Squeezed shut from how expose you feel right now.

“ I want you-u to fuck me “ You whisper but Soobin hears it nonetheless.

Grinning Ear to ear, Soobin picks you up by your waist as you wrap your legs around his Slender waist while he’s Eating your face out at this point

“ Binnie it’s Ticklish here , stop“ While giggling Hard at his Behaviour .

“ Really?”

“ Does the Kiss tickles this much? Huh-?”

Soobin Questions Playfully as you Laughs while Hiding your face in his neck.

As he Guides you two towards the end of the bed while leaving a trail of kisses on you neck, making you feel hot all over again

You both Desperately claws at eachothers clothing

As You take a Shaky breath in as Soobin undo your silk bow that secured your robe tightly to your waist Revealing your White cotton lingerie which hugged your body

You blush as you take in the look on as Soobin’s widen eyes which screams for hunger and lust.

“ I still can’t believe that you’re mine Princess, won’t be able to believe it anytime soon , you make me go insane , you make me feel Loved Every breath this heart takes” He says while guiding your right hand towards his Heart as he rest his forehead against yours.

Your eyes Widen at the Sudden feel of something twitch on your lower belly as you lift your eyes to watch the shy ones of your Boyfriend’s

“ You drive me so insane ,and you don’t even Know ” He murmured while he Begins to peel Off your Bra swiftly freeing your boobs as he latches his mouth onto your left nipple while pinching the right one with his hand making you mewl out a sultry whine as he lays your body onto the bed .

Soobin works his way to give you pleasure as His lips gives attention to both nipples as he softly bites them to pull out another loud gasp from you at the Sudden tug

His hot mouth trails from your breast to your belly , leaving a sloppy kiss to every inch of your skin making his way to your heat below And then he’s pulling – tearing your drenched panties . Flashing you a devilish grin at the sinful strings of slick that connect you to the flimsy fabric.

With a rasped out breath, fucked-out little grunt, he’s surging forward, diving face first into your pretty pussy. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit, licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds.

“Oh hngh- please.” You mewl, as he buries himself deeper into your dripping cunt. Tongue bullying its way past your folds to lap at your slick, not stopping till he’s had his fill of your sweet juices. “M-more.”

Two large hands dip into your waist as he wraps his glossy lips around your pulsing clit to suck more of you , both keeping you still and supporting your weight as your knees weaken.

“Sure you can handle more, babygirl?” Electricity runs up your spine as your boyfriend rolls his tongue across your clit just the way he knew you liked as you Moan out of pleasure loudly making Soobin suck at your pussy even more , causing you to reach your high so fast that you choke at your own breaths .

“Ah- fuck fuck fuck- hngh- yes!” you moan, body jerking violently at the way he hit a certain spot over and over again .

“uhhhh- nnh I’m cuming-ng ” as you body rocks with the orgasm as Soobin Desperately sucks in all of you sweet juices like a starved man so hard that your body shakes afterwards from how hard you came right now .

Soobin finally lifts his head with you juices displayed on his nose as he gathers it and lick it one go while You watch him with lustful eyes , adoring his Features as Soobin makes his way towards your face while kissing your belly , nipples , collarbone and finally your lips passionately .

Soobin tugs at his office pants as he removes them quickly , desperately wanting to be inside you as he peels off his shirt Revealing his broad shoulders as your mouth waters at the chiseled front , hands roams over the familiar places of his upper body, Running your hands along his body , feeling his abs and limbs to his face pulling him for a kiss while eyes closed both of your body clings to eachother

You both feel the rush of love through your veins pulling eachother impossibly close.

Yet your greedy hands are momentarily stunned as he lets his boxers fall to the floor Rock-hard cock springing up and hitting his stomach.

He was so painfully hard that it made your cunt quiver in anticipation. Red and throbbing, soaked in precum and glistening in the dim lighting. Twitching at the sound of your voice as you say “Want you to fucking take all of me , soobie.” You blink up at Soobin , all doe-eyed and teary after your last orgasm.

And oh does that was the last straw of his patience getting snapped – maybe his sanity, maybe you by the end of this, because before you know it, Soobin’s spreading your legs with his knee. Biting his bottom lip as your slick trails down your pretty cunt and onto your legs.

“Whatever you say princess.” He grits out, dragging his weeping tip across your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head.

You keen as Soobin bullies his massive cock into your cunt on the last word. “Ngh- S-Soobin.” You whine, vision flashing at the stretch. No matter how many times Soobin is in, you full of his cock – his size never failed to Stretch you out.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You can take it.” Trying to steady your breathing as he rams into you in quick, mindless little jabs to fit himself inside your snug pussy. “I’ll make sure of it, pretty baby .

Splitting you apart deeper and deeper onto his cock, veins rubbing so deliciously against all the right spots. A maddening little bump! Bump! Bump! Matching your heartbeat.

“Ah! Hngh- Fuck fuck fuck, m’so full.” You keen, heels digging into his hips as tears streams down your face out of pleasure.

Sliding down his cock far enough that his heavy balls meet your ass, already so wet with precum and slick. , you were so full of him you almost felt like he was pushing against your lungs , he presses the visible bulge on your belly while rutting in you rhythmically.

Today he was giving you all of his , All of his love pouring into you through the hard thrust he gives you

“Oh, baby you feel incredibly tight as always.” Soobin hisses, throwing his head back, crying out of how good he’s making you feel you bite onto your finger to suppress the high pitch moans your about to let out but Soobin takes both of your hand in his as he locks them above your head.

His Hips and yours moves in sync as he increases his pace even more making you reach your high as you scream as pleasure washes over you as cum on his cock making his eyes roll at how tight your squeezing him.

His Tortures Hips continues to slam inside your walls, removing his hold on your hands he holds your waist in place as he hits your g-spot , rutting his cock in and out of you as you feel it hits your cervix at a continuous pace causing overstimulation making you dig your nails on his back .

All the blood draining to his cock at the idea of fucking his cum into you till you couldn’t walk. Till you were so full of him that he was the only one you could think of.

Today is one of those days when Soobin can’t get enough of your sweet moans and gasp that you let out every thrust , every ramming of his cock gives you , loving the glow on your face as his face adores yours while those tears rolls down to your cheeks from the pleasure you feel right now .

“C’mon, love .” Soobin moans, hips out of control now. Taking in the way your head was thrown back, body bouncing each time he rammed his cock into your tight cunt. But oh how he wanted to see the fucked-out expression on your face. “Look at me princess , Want your eyes only on me .”

So cockdrunk and delirious, you barely register the way Soobin cradles your head to press his sweaty forehead against yours. Only looking up at him with delirious heart-eyes as he milked himself on your sloppy pussy.

“Shit feel s’perfect splitting-apart on me” he gasps into your mouth. “Need to cum inside you ,love” quickering from the overstimulation your sensitive cunt feels “Need to fill you up- ah- need this need this- fuck.”

“Shit shit shit, Soobin m’so close. I’m hngh-”

A hand hurriedly unwraps from your waist to draw rapid, desperate little patterns on your cunt. Not even circles anymore because shit Soobin couldn’t think of anything aside from the way your pussy was milking him so good- And how he was gonna fuck a baby into you if he keeps on going like this---

Body bowing into yours, as your teeths latching onto the crook of his neck, biting down right over his pulse from the excruciating pleasure Soobin’s hitting . Fingers digging and bruising on your hips, holding your body to not move away from his cock as he cums with a strangled moan. Hard. Almost painfully so.

White-hot pleasure behind his eyes, pumping thick, hot ropes to fill your snug cunt. Both of you gasping for air at the overstimulation you felt the moment Soobin Thrusts went almost carnal to the point you came twice

Still inside you as his cock continues to milk all of his loads as both of you face flushed red from the pleasure you both raced after

Glowy face in the dark, the face of two lovers who made love to eachother as there body tangled with eachother in sweats and essence of sweetness in the air

Your plan went all well , The thought makes you giggle as Soobin raises his brow at you Playfully as you just shake your head at him and wrap you arms around him as he pulls out of you to only to rush you towards the bathroom to clean up and take shower together

You smile wide as he massages your scalp in shower humming a familiar tune as you join in to hum the tune to your favourite song together as you turn around to massage his head as well , feeling content in the movement.

Soobin rest his head on yours as he whispers “ you’re mine forever princess, no option given ”

As you chuckle at his statement saying .

“same goes to you Soobie , you’re stuck with me for life ”

“Gladly Babygirl . ” He says as pecks you forehead, only to sticking his tongue out in disgust as he tasted some of the body wash As you burst out laughing at his facial expression, joining you to laughing at himself as the sound of your laugh is melody to his ears .

[bejeweledblondie]

New Recruit

Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader

Summary: Y/N’s & Simon’s little girl goes to work with her daddy after begging for months, this is based on a true story that happened today my husband came home decorated in stickers

Warnings: none

When your daughter found out Simon was bringing her to work the next day she was overly ecstatic. She immediately grabbed her little pink backpack & packed three of her Barbie dolls, stickers, coloring books, all the essentials. Your daughter had grown incredibly curious in what her father did. He’d always try to bring back some sort of souvenir for her, & it only helped with peaking her curiosity. She’d constant ask different questions when he’d come home from a mission & Simon would create some elaborate story to shield her from his actual profession. All she knew what that he was in the military to some degree. So Simon decided since it was mainly a online safety training day he’d bring her onto the base.

The next morning she was so excited nearly bouncing out of her seat in anticipation. She kept asking so many questions about the activities planned that she wasn’t eating her cereal.

“Sweetheart, you gotta eat up my love.” You stated, reminding her of the colorful fruity breakfast food in front of her. “You need to be well fed before you go with daddy to work.”

“Okay mummy.” She replied starting to eat away. Simon had just come back from a early morning run & walked in the door. “Daddy!” She yelled excitedly & opened her arms for a hug.

“Hey princess!“ He greeted her. Despite how sweaty he was, he couldn’t deny his little girl a hug.

“You stink!” She exclaimed. He ruffled her hair & walked upstairs to take a well needed shower. Once she was done with her breakfast you took her upstairs to get her ready for the day. She had laid out her outfit the night prior. The cutest little pink corduroy dress, with white tights, & mary jane flats were resting on her dresser. You got her changed into her outfit for the day & Simon came in dressed in his uniform. It was a morning ritual before he left for work that he’d help put his little girls hair up. His bear paw of a hand grabbed the hair brush that sat on her dresser & started to brush her sandy blonde locks.

“What bow do you want this morning princess?” He asked pointing to the plethora of bows that sat in a container.

“Hmmmm,” She said thoughtfully her little nose crinkling in thought. “The pink one!” You now leaning against the door frame giggled to yourself. She had all those bows but without fail the pink one was the one she wore the most. He clipped the bow into her small ponytail & let her look at it in the mirror.

“Okay pumpkin, let’s go so daddy is not late for work.” He said & scooped her up. She always looked smaller then she was in Simon’s arms. It always looked like he was carrying a doll around. He grabbed her pink backpack & swung it over his free shoulder. The three of you made it downstairs & you gave the two of them a kiss goodbye.

“Looks like it’s just you & me today.” You said quietly to your now visible baby bump.

Simon buckled the wiggly little girl into her car seat & got into the driver’s seat of his pick up truck.

“Okay darling what do you wanna listen to?” He asked looking back at her, already knowing her answer.

“Taylor Swift!” She exclaimed & like clockwork he put on her absolute favorite song, Shake it Off. He smiled to himself as he watched her wiggle around in her car seat to the song singing to herself. Simon tried to sing along, but she shot that down really fast. “No daddy I only sing.” She said. He rolled his eyes playfully, & shook his head. Knowing damn well she got her sassiness from her mother.

He pulled up to the gate to the base, & showed both of her identification cards. The gate guard scanned both & saluted Simon. Soon they were in the parking lot to the headquarters, & Simon was struggling with getting the car seat unhooked. His damn sausage fingers were getting in the way.

“God dammit.” He said as he tried to unclip one of the straps. Your daughter got wide eyed & gasped.

“Daddy you just said a bad word!” She exclaimed. “Mummy says those aren’t nice words.” A look of disbelief was on Simon’s face at his child’s scolding, knowing well enough she’ll repeat what happened later on. The swear jar at home was already way too filled from his accidental cursing. Price had been standing outside finishing off the last of his cigarette watching his lieutenant struggle with the car seat buckle. After he finished his smoke he decided to go over & help. Being a father to three kids meant he was a professional.

“Oi, Simon!” He called coming down the stairs. “Need some help?”

“Anything would be great, Price.” Simon said clearly frustrated. Price looked at the little girl in the car seat who looked back him & smiled. “I swear they strap them in tight enough they could survive an atomic bomb.” Simon continue. “Eleanor, this is Captain Price. Daddy’s boss, he’s gonna unhook ya.” Simon told his daughter.

“Hello, Eleanor,” Price said. “Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand & she grabbed onto two fingers, shaking his hand. Somehow someway Price was able to get the car seat unhooked. Eleanor held out her arms & Price picked her up placing her down next to her father. Simon took the pink backpack & his daughters hand. All three of them walked into the building only to be greeted by Soap & Gaz.

“Finally!” Soap exclaimed. “What took you lot so long-“ he cut off mid sentence at the sight of the little girl holding her fathers hand. “Who’s child is that?” He asked.

“This is my daughter, Eleanor.” Simon explained. Eleanor now shyly was hiding in between her fathers legs.

“I had no idea you had a kid LT.” Gaz said. The two men crouched down to greet the little girl. Simon’s hand came down to stroke her hair to tell her it’s okay. “Hello, Eleanor I’m Gaz & this is Soap.” She just stared back at them gripping onto the camouflage fabric of Simon’s pants.

“She’s just shy.” Simon explained & picked up his daughter.

“Well let’s get to it.” Price stated, & they all walked into one of the briefing rooms. “Simon why don’t you drop Eleanor off with Laswell while we conduct our briefing.” Price stated. “She’s just right next door.”

Simon carried his daughter out of the room & knocked on the door of the room next to them. Kate opened the door & smiled.

“Oh isn’t this a surprise!” Kate said.

“Could you just let her sit in here for a few? We’re about to do a briefing.” Simon asked. She nodded & Simon handed his daughter off to her with her pink backpack.

“Daddy where are you going?” Eleanor asked in a upset tone.

“Daddy’s going to be right next door.” He explained to her. “Then when I’m done you can come in.”

“Okay daddy.” She replied. Simon went into the briefing room & Laswell closed the door to her office. She placed the little girl on the ground who held onto her pink backpack.

“Whatcha got in there?” Laswell asked as she crouched down to her level.

“I have Barbie’s.” Eleanor said. “Do you know how to play with Barbie’s?” She asked. Laswell nodded, & Eleanor opened up her backpack to reveal her Barbie’s. The more questions Laswell asked the more comfortable Eleanor was around her. Once the briefing was finished, Simon went next door to check in on his daughter. There she was sitting with Laswell on the floor playing with her three favorite Barbie’s. Soap & Gaz also appeared in the doorway behind him. After a few minutes Eleanor realized her father was in the doorway. “Daddy!” She exclaimed excitedly. He never got tired of seeing her excitement when he walked into a room or came back from work.

“Hi princess, can I steal Laswell for a minute?” He asked. “Soap & Gaz will play if you want.” He said & Laswell got up. “Then after this we can get Macca’s for lunch.” She lit up at the sound of that.

“Okay daddy.” She said in agreement. Soap & Gaz soon joined her on the floor. She looked at them skeptically especially Soap. “Why is your hair that way?” She asked as she picked up one of her Barbie’s from the floor. Gaz had to control himself & try not to laugh.

“It’s a Mohawk, & I like it.” He replied. She really was Simon’s kid.

“Do you know how to play Barbie’s?” She asked them quizzically. They both looked at each other & then her. “It’s okay, I’ll show you.” Eleanor went on to explain the drama between three of the dolls. It was an elaborate betrayal & divorce plot that left the two men speechless. “That’s how you play Barbie’s.” They just stared back at her absolutely confused.

“Oh wow,” Soap said. “That’s uh wow. That took a sharp left turn.”

“I’ll say,” Gaz said. “What else did you bring?” He asked. She went to her backpack & whipped out the sticker sheets.

“Those look fun.” Soap said. Eleanor took a sticker of a unicorn off of the sheet & placed it on his forehead. The cutest giggle he had ever heard erupted from her lips. Soon his whole face & Gaz’s face were covered in stickers. Simon, Price, & Laswell had completed their briefing, & went to go check on the three of them next door. Once they opened the door Kate had to stifle a laugh. Simon looked on in amusement at his daughter who placing different stickers over his teammates faces.

“Eleanor, love what are you doing?” Simon asked.

“Making them pretty.” She replied very matter of factly.

“It looks like Lisa Frank threw up on them.” Laswell said.

“Hey we’re trying to make the new recruit here happy.” Soap replied with his eyes closed as she placed a new sticker on his forehead.

“New recruit?” Price asked.

“Yeah little Eleanor here.” Gaz answered. Simon smiled to himself as he watched his daughter enjoy herself. He knew she’d be asking to come to work with him again, but this time with more stickers.

[user2772636]

Douzième Fille Masterlist

12th Girl Masterlist

××《☆》××

Joseph Descamps x Reader

You, as the 12th girl of Voltaire High, must face the new opportunities given by a school that is a mix of boys and girls. Handle your feelings towards a high school bully, make friendships that will last, and study hard enough to be accepted by society.

××《☆》××

===

Chapter one: Mary Jane's - Transferring schools after moving places for the 6th time, a new opportunity is given; a school for both boys and girls. With a new experience to be dealt with, will you survive a blooming rivalry with one of your classmates, a socialising society, and freshman year? Welcome to Voltaire High.

===

Chapter two: My eye only - After the incident, things take a turn for both better and worse. All with that, gym class has turned the school into a zoo. When people can't take their eyes off of what's yours, you take their ability to see. What an ironic thing for a one-eyed boy to set his mind to.

===

Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say - Having to be in pairs for a group project, two people with mixed feelings work together to create a presentation. Going into eachothers houses is easy until a certain cat wants to play cupid. Feelings erupt, and miscommunication has to be endured. A soccer game in the rain might prove that Descamps listens more than he should.

===

Chapter four: Flashy Magazines - Experimenting is bound to give you attention. Magazines are trending, and not just in the women's department. A one-eyed boy who has recently been caught with something vulgar has respect for women. How surprising.

===

Chapter five: You Know Where To Find Me, and I Know Where To Look - Callum returns, and Joseph is not so happy about it. A rainy night with forgotten gashes makes you think about a certain "friendship." Eavesdropping hurts a lot more than you thought.

===

Chapter six: Mischief Managed - A new task; Kidnap some frogs and a film to get an hour study session with the Annick Sabiani. Things are still unstable with Joseph. Maybe Callum could help. Your fear of hopping creatures makes a boy forget what went wrong.

===

Chapter seven: Salvatore - You can't deny beauty, so don't do it at all. Some time is spent at the beach with a boy you're trying to quietly reject. Begging, though pitying, looks good on our one-eyed boy.

===

Chapter eight: Joseph, Joseph, Joseph - Some chances are taken too late. You only realise what you've lost when you're starting to lose them. Goodbyes are hard, especially when you've just started.

===

Chapter nine: You Belong To Me - Years have gone by. It's now 1971. You've peaked in your career. You've become well known. But what happens when an all too familiar face returns, now more drawn to you?

===

Chapter ten: I love you - Looking back at the day you first met, you realise how far you've gone. You appreciate the little things in life and some little people, too.

[goodbyemaryjane]

One Year Sober

I wish I could go back to my past self and say: there are moments of joy in your future that are so enormous you don't even have the space in your mind to imagine them yet.

You are going through some of the hardest times in your life so far, I know. You are so full of hurt and boredom and loneliness, it feels like there's no space for anything else. It feels like the best you can do is get high and try not to look at it, try to feel good for a few hours. You don't want to form clear memories of the same boring, exhausting day repeating again and again. Other people get to drink and get high and feel good, so why do you have to just sit here on a Saturday night and stare at your loneliness without relief? Read something, draw something, cycle through the same inadequate distractions?

Sometimes you are okay, even good, but sometimes you are a well of sadness with no bottom. You are starved for closeness but you cannot reach for it, you're too ashamed of how much you need. You feel like an alien watching groups of friends laugh and walk to lunch together, as if it's easy for them. Sure, you can entertain other people, but they don't know you, they only see the light you reflect. You're tired of writing in your journal, of meditating, of painting it out, of trying to compress the longing into a shape that's easier to carry. You're tired of trying so hard to be happy. You deserve some relief, a break from being the way you are so relentlessly.

When you're high, you can finally ignore all of that. And the absence of pain almost feels like love.

But the more you avoid it, the more it scares you. So you get high again, close your eyes again, and the moments when your stash is out and you catch a glimpse of what you've been ignoring are so overwhelming, you'll tell yourself, I can't stop. If I'm sober I'll suffocate in this. Your addiction will grow until you truly believe you are not strong enough to be alone in your mind again.

But you will get sober.

You'll work hard and make things you're proud of, you'll be there for a friend that needs you, you'll walk down the street and smell the rain on the pavement and know there's more inside you than pain. You will learn that most people are lonely like you, that reaching for closeness is the first thing every newborn learns to do, and the more you practice the easier it gets. You'll tell people you need them and they won't leave you. You'll learn that there is nothing inside you that makes you unworthy of love, and you might have to relearn this twice a week for the rest of your life, and that's okay. You'll have a lot of days that are just alright, some days you just live through, and some days you'll keep in your pocket and rub for good luck until they're as smooth as tumbled gemstones and as familiar as Goodnight Moon. You'll decide not to take your secrets to the grave after all, and it will be terrifying, but you'll learn the slow warm comfort of having absolutely nothing left to hide. You'll fall deeper in love with someone, and in his arms, loneliness will just be a word. You'll have experiences that make you feel like you've unlocked a new level of happiness you've never felt before. You'll make art that makes people feel understood; a stranger will thank you at the gallery opening, tears in his eyes. A stranger at the bus stop will confess his relapse to you and you'll tell him that you know it's hard, that you believe he can get sober again, and he'll thank you for understanding. You'll clean out your drawers and start keeping your promises. You'll be strong enough to lean on.

You'll think to yourself, "Thank God I was sober for that," and mean it. You'll think, "I am proud of myself for doing what's right, even when it's hard," and mean it. You'll think, "I want to remember every second of this," and you'll mean it with all your heart.

The pain doesn't go away entirely, but the space inside you will grow. Your life will expand to fit the love that's coming.

[unicreamuwu]

The Little Batgirl (Yandere Platonic Batfam x Child Reader)

Prologue - Adoption Day

Warning: Yandere Themes (mentioned)

*New yandere platonic series, yay*

Bruce got out of his car and went into the orphanage he had planned to visit.

Today, he was actually planning to adopt a child who could be his next sidekick since the others sort of "retired".

When he goes in, he is met by the orphanage owner.

They greeted each other before they looked for the perfect child for Bruce to adopt.

Each child Bruce passed by, and they were not the kind to have the position to be his sidekick.

That's when the owner takes him into a room that shows a young girl with (h/c) colored hair and a pair of (e/c) colored eyes with (s/c) colored skin.

She was wearing a plain white dress as she was holding onto her lavender colored bat stuffed animal plush.

She was staring at both Bruce and the orphanage owner.

(This is how I kinda imagined of reader to be in this story, but you can come up with her appearance since she's basically you. Also, please DO NOT steal my art, thank you.)

"Who is this young lady?" Bruce asks with his eyebrow lifted as he stares at her.

"This young lady is Y/N. She came here alone with nobody by her side other than that bat doll about a few years ago. She was in terrible state at that time, so I decided to take her in," the owner tells him.

"For what I remembered, she read the dictionary in her bedroom over fifty times. So, when I quizzed her, she didn't hesitate to answer all the questions and got them all corrected."

That information caught Bruce's attention as he continues to stare at the young girl who is now in front of him.

"How exactly?" He asks.

The owner took out a piece of newspaper and hands it to the girl.

The piece shows a crossword puzzle that a grown adult would have struggled solving it.

Y/N sat on her chair before she takes out a pencil and begins to do the crossword puzzle.

After thirty seconds, the girl shows both the owner and Bruce the now completed puzzle that every word was written down correctly.

Bruce seemed impressed by the girl's talent and turns to the owner who stares at him back.

"Well, what do you think of her?" The owner asks him who was in thought.

Then, Bruce takes out his pen and turns to the owner.

"Bring in the paperworks."

~~~~~

After the paperwork was filled in, Y/N is now going to have a new life.

She comes out of the building with her suitcase that has all of belongings as she carries her bat plush.

Y/N also changed her outfit as well into a pink turtleneck shirt and a red skirt along with some white tights and a pair of red Mary Jane shoes.

She was walking up to Bruce and stares up at him.

Bruce was in thought as he stares down at Y/N.

She is a very smart girl, but was she really capable of fighting?

It's not that she looks or is very weak, it's just that she looks like she could get hurt very easily.

He should have a discussion with the others about this once he comes back to the manor.

They were staring at one another before Bruce kneels down to her level and pats her head.

"You don't have to worry. You're going to be safe living with me and your new family," he tells her with a soft smile on his face which is pretty rare to see.

Bruce brings Y/N into his car and shuts the passenger doors once she was in.

Y/N looks through the car window to see some kids from the orphanage, waving to her goodbye with encouraging smiles.

He then takes out his phone and dials a number before the other line picked up.

"Alfred, get the room ready for our new member of the batfamily. Make sure nobody goes in it until the member comes in."

[lacedinweb22]

drunk and crushing (Miguel O’Hara x reader) (part 1)

🕸️ Entangled series 🕸️ ch. 2 prev part

Warnings - alcohol, house party, sexual references 

Summary: After your physics midterm, a group of classmates invite you and your friend, Miguel, to “a small party” they’d be throwing late at night. You both get drunk, and Miguel is especially protective and flirty with you; your feelings and crushes on each other are revealed as the night goes on.

FYI: Some words will be bunched together but that’s just me representing slurred drunken words. ALSO this will be in parts so get ready to be fucking edged. Sorry >:D I hope you enjoy <;3 

I imagine this playing in the background of this part's party scenes so I HIGHLY recommend listening to this with headphones on while reading:

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

We walked out of class together, side by side. “Sooo, I mean, I’ll only go if you go,” he said, nudging my shoulder, smirking with that annoyingly perfect, pearly smile. “Hmmm, ‘a small party,’ she said, I don’t know, I don’t believe that… I hate large gatherings and… I don’t know half of the people that’ll be there,” I muttered, my eyes following the passing squirrels then glancing back up at Miguel. 

What was the point of going when I knew I would just have to witness every girl and their mother trying to suck this man off in the bathroom??? He’d be busy all night, away from me, why bother? I prefer our mini study dat– sessions. Study sessions. 

“Yeah… I know, but you’ll be with me, so you can just… you know, stick with me,” he suggested, shrugging and smiling down at me, his gaze stuck on me as we walked. I smiled, looking at our feet walking together. Stick with him. “Okay, fine, yes, let’s do it. I’ll feel better… that way.” “Okay, I’ll pick you up at 9 then?” 

Pick me up? Jesus, why are you like this? Stop being so fucking nice to me; it makes it so much harder to get over you. 

It’s fine. He’s just being a good best friend. Friend. We. Are. Just. Friends. He’s just being nice. 

“Yes, sounds perfect… thank you, Mig, can’t wait,” I said, giving him a thumbs up as I walked away from him. “Hey, where are you going?” he called out. “I’m going to go meet up with a friend, I’ll see you later tonight, M” I yelled back. “Okay… Y/N,” he muttered, his eyebrows softly scrunched with confusion, lifting his hand up to say goodbye. 

* * *

I wore my favorite vintage black strapless dress, and long knee high socks stuffed into my black mary janes. My waves trickled down my shoulders and collar bones. I feel so pretty. I wonder if Miguel will think the same. 

He texted me that he’d be here in five. I sat on the short garden wall outside of my apartment complex, waiting for Miguel. He was always early. Always. 

Sure enough, he pulled up, smiling and saluting me. “Present, Captain Y/N,” he said, as I walked towards the car door. Before I knew it, he was out of the car, about to open the door for me. As he approached the car door, his eyes scanned me up and down. “You look… really nice. Super beautiful.” I felt my face warm up. “Thank you, Mig,” I replied, shyly. I got in, he closed the door, then went to his side. He got in and began to drive. 

“And you. I love that moto jacket on you… and you smell nice,” I replied, leaning towards him, my face near his chest, sniffing him. “Hey, I always smell good,” “Yeah, you do, you do, but you know, it’s a party, I get it. Love, drugs, weed, pussy. I get it,” I replied, hands up. He laughed and rolled his eyes, his deep laugh so rich, music to my ears. He smelled so good. His jacket must be fucking drenched in his smell. I wanted to touch him so badly, to feel his snug t-shirt, his warm muscles against my fingertips. I just knew–“Y/N,” he dragged out. “Yes, sorry, what was the question?” I responded quickly. “You smell good too, and you look pretty, I mean you always look pretty, I mean I just… is there someone from our class you’re looking forward to seeing?” God, you have no idea. “Ummmm, no, nope, no. There isn’t. Is there… someone you–” “No, no. Just the drugs and the weed,” he replied, nodding. I scoffed. Sure. 

We pulled up to the house party. There were a million cars and what seemed like a million people inside and outside crowding around the front yard. Colorful lights glowed through the windows as people danced and trashed their red solo cups everywhere.  

We found parking, then walked towards the chaos. As we approached, Miguel grabbed my hand. I looked down at it then back up at him. “Stick with me, okay?” he urged, squeezing my hand twice. I nodded. His large, muscular hand wrapped around mine. He was so warm; his calloused palms rubbed softly against mine as we walked in. 

We pushed through the crowd to get to the kitchen. The speakers blasted music and sent vibrations across the floor and throughout my body. I clung onto Miguel as we pushed through the crowd. He towered over everyone, as the longing eyes of girls and the envious eyes of guys followed him.

We found Lizzie, our friend from physics, pouring shots for a few other classmates I recognized. “Miguel and Y/N,” she hummed out, teasingly.  “You two are so cute! I’m so glad you could both make it!” she exclaimed, winking at me. “Us too,” Miguel replied, squeezing my hand and bumping my shoulder. “Do you guys want some of… this?” she said smirking, holding up a bottle of tequila. Miguel looked down at me for approval. I shrugged. “I’ll do one if you do one,” I told him, smiling. He grinned down at me then nodded to Lizzie.  She grabbed a shot glass then a larger glass, 3x the size of mine. “He’s much bigger than you,” she said, shrugging, as she poured them out then slid one in front of each of us. “Fuck, what have we gotten ourselves into?” I asked, picking up the small glass and looking up at Miguel. He raised his glass up to mine and tapped it, “I guess we’ll have to find out,” he said, smirking.

Our eyes met as we both brought the shot glasses to our lips, never breaking eye contact. We downed the shots. Miguel took it extremely, scarily well, as I gasped and hovered over the counter processing the burn. I felt the warmth spread down into my chest. “Mmm that was so yummy,” I moaned. Miguel patted my back and laughed, “Let me get you a soda or something, wait Y/N, have you eaten?” I kept my head down and breathed out, “I saw Dr. Peppers back there, please, God, and yeah… umm I had mac & cheese earlier.” He patted my back then walked away. 

“You need a drink?” I turned around to see a guy I knew from physics holding out a plastic cup to me. “Oh, no I’m good, thank you, Miguel should be bringing me something right about now,” I responded, peering behind him. Where is he? It was just righ– “I don’t see him,” he responded smugly, shrugging. I awkwardly laughed. He was cute, but he wasn’t… him. His eyes were glued to my lips. “Ha, ummm, yeah well, so… how do you feel about the midterm?” I asked, trying to ignore the tension. 

Lizzie brushed by me, handing me a new shot glass, raising her eyebrows. I didn’t feel the first one in the slightest, so I obliged. I downed the shot, breathed out, caught my breath, and looked back at Jack. 

“It was fine. Anyways, Y/N, I see you every lecture, and I’ve always wanted to, you know, talk to you, but you’ve– I mean shit, you got him following you around like a lost puppy–” “Hey, what? Where is this coming from? Miguel’s my friend, he’s my best friend, how is he like a lost puppy?” I argued, offended. “I mean everyone sees how he looks at you,” he replied, confused, like I was the one missing something. “Everyone? What do they see or… think? What do you mea–” “Do you not–? You’re not together? You haven’t…?” he asked, bewildered. “Nope, just friends,” I sighed, grabbing a can off of the counter and chugging. “But hey, thanks for the reminder,” I breathed out before chugging more of whatever this bitter shit was. I need to forget that Miguel doesn’t want me, that he could never think of me the way I think of him. 

Jack smiled, and leaned on the counter closer to me, his elbow getting closer and closer to my chest. I looked down at his elbow then up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “You’re close,” I asserted. “You look beautiful tonight, truly. You know what? We should go take a quick hit outside,” he smirked, holding up a joint. “Nah, I’m good, It’s niceandwarm in here and Miguel shouldbecomingtosaveme any minutenow,” I shook my head no, realizing how heavy my head felt. Fuck, this beer can feels a little heavy. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered, getting closer to my face. “We should go get brunch sometime,” he added. Brunch? “That’svery kind but I’m good. DamnIsaid Iwasgood like fifty times. I’m waiting forMiguelllll, my best friend, my buddy, so don’t worry about me! Go check out someone else who’s lonely, I’m not lonely.” “You look lonely,” he reasoned. “Hey, you fucki–” I stopped as I noticed his eyes grow fearful as his gaze looked up above my head. “What are youlookingat, weirdo?” I asked, sharply, reaching my fingertips to my hair. 

“Hey, Miguel,” Jack breathed out, grinning fearfully. I looked up to see Miguel behind me peering down at Jack. I watched as he kept his eyes on Jack while lowering a Dr. Pepper into my hand. “Here, Y/N,” “Thank you, Miguel,” I mimicked, looking up at him then back at Jack. 

“I’m here. You can leave her alone now,” Miguel hissed at Jack. I like this side of him. Darkened eyes, heavy voice, angst. Gives me chills. “We were just talking about a fucking midterm,” Jack muttered as he walked away. “Yeah okay, pinche gringo,” he called out to him. I turned around and looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair slightly messier than when I saw him ten minutes ago. Where had he gone? Who was he with?

“Miguel,” I scolded, holding in my laugh. “What if he understandsSpanish, huh? They’re gonna kickyourass out,” I reasoned. “Nofighting here. This is a peacezone,” I said squeezing his forearm. He shrugged, “Ni modo.” I rolled my eyes then drank more from the can. “Hey, where’d you get that?” Miguel asked, grabbing it out of my hand, analyzing the label. He swiftly drank what was left of the beer then offered me the soda he brought. He lifted my other hand grasping the soda up to my lips, then bit the tab up, snapping the soda open inches away from my lips. “Drink this,” he muttered, through his teeth before spitting the soda tab onto the counter. “Haaaa I forgot about this!” I laughed out. “Yeah, yeah drink some,” he laughed, supporting my hand. 

I drank a good amount then pressed it to his lips. His soft pink lips wrapped around the can rim. His eyes stuck to mine as he sipped some. My cheeks burned.

He then grabbed my hand and led me to the upstairs living room. There were far less people and the music wasn’t as loud. A friend stopped Miguel by the mini bar, so I stood beside him as they talked. I subconsciously remained holding his hand, which he held firmly on his lap as he talked to his friend about school. Lizzie and a few of her friends came by again, handing Miguel and I shots. Miguel hesitated as he looked down at his glass, then looked back at me and my now empty shot glass. He stared at me with extreme concern, then continued talking to the guy who was bombarding him with questions about the midterm. 

He continued glancing at me, worriedly. “What are youlookingat?” I asked, pushing him with my body, “oops sorry I just meant to nudgeyou not push you, woah you’re so firm, I’ve never felt yourchestbefore geez you’re so strong, wait doyouthinkyou could lift me up? Try carrying me!” I blurted, laughing. A bit of pink creeped into his cheeks, as he smiled and put his hand on my fingers lingering on his chest. “Yeah, Y/N, you’ve had a little too much. No more, okay?” he urged, almost scolding me. “Damnnnn okay, MOMMMM!” I replied, rolling my eyes. He turned to his friend and excused himself, then stood up and turned to face me. He looked down at me, his eyes glaring, as I looked up at him, smiling fearfully. He wrapped his forearms around the back of my thighs, lifted me, and gently carried me over his shoulder, within one second. I was weightless to him. I laughed non stop, as he put me down slowly and rolled his eyes. “Wait couldyoulift me like, like wrappedaroundyou like you know…?” I asked, excited. Jesus, someone stop me.

He tilted his head, looking at me critically, then succumbed. He wrapped his hands on the back of my thighs then effortlessly lifted me up so we were chest to chest, heart to heart. His hands remained on the back of my thighs, my dress was now riding up, probably showing my underwear to the world. I was too drunk to care, and too focused on Miguel to care. 

My arms wrapped around his neck, as our faces were inches apart. We looked into each other’s eyes then down at each other’s lips. My heart is beating dangerously fast. Can he feel my heart racing? It felt like 10 minutes had passed us by, when in reality it had been mere seconds. He put me down slowly, as we held eye contact. I wasn’t laughing anymore. 

That sobered me up. I cleared my throat and tugged my dress down. His gaze was still glued onto me. His gaze felt different. Has he always looked at me like that? “Let’s go over there,” I suggested, as I pointed at a group of people playing beer pong on the balcony. I hated crowds, but I needed more sobering up; the alcohol was hitting me like a bus. He held my hand and followed me, as I led him through the crowd this time.

As we approached the balcony and made our way through the crowd, the music grew intensely loud. We now had to shout to hear each other. “‘SMALL PARTY’ MY ASS!” I shouted to Miguel. “I KNOW,” he laughed, “IT’S SO FUCKING LOUD. IT’S TOO MUCH” he shouted, over the music. “DO YOU WANNA LEAVE?” “NO, LET’S JUST GO TAKE A RESTROOM BREAK,” he yelled back, grabbing my hand and leading me to one of the bathrooms. 

to be continued…

next part (flashback) drunk and crushing pt.2

[arkhamsrevenge]

PS5 Harry Osborn x Reader requested by @seele-opal - how abt something with harry and the symbiote before he went full venom? maybe something abt how it'll react to its hosts' romantic partner

Trigger Warning! This story contains violence and talks about abuse, suicide  and death!

You went to high school with Peter Parker, Mary Jane Watson and Harry Osborn. They were always nice to you but often left you to your own devices. A couple times you had scared off Flash and his buddies due to your wit and unwavering hate for the school bullies. When you heard Harry’s mother had died, you secretly started to make copies of your school work and put his name on them to lessen the load for him when he returned to school. You had kept your secret hidden well for a while until you ran into Peter Parker in the school library. Well more like he ran into you, papers scattered everywhere and as Peter helped you pick them up he saw doubles of each paper you were working on. 

“So you’re the one passing Harry in Honors Lit and Economics.” He whispered. You shrugged. 

“He’s going through it. Thought I’d lighten the load.” After that, Peter and MJ started eating lunch at your table. They never forced you to take your headphones out when you wanted to eat while listening to music or if you didn’t say anything at all. In fact, you were starting to like their company. Harry eventually came back to school and was surprised to know he wasn’t missing many assignments. Peter of course brought him up to speed and later that day you received a note in your locker. It was from Harry, a thank you note for helping him out. You smiled and tucked it into your bag then someone cleared their voice behind you. You turned to see Harry himself holding a small bunch of violets. 

“I know they aren’t much and I picked them outside the school but I wanted to get you something and MJ said you keep drawing violets on your paper when you're bored.” You blink not knowing just how closely those two had paid attention to you. You swallowed roughly and a small smile appeared on your face. 

“Thanks. That was really nice of you.” Harry laughed. 

“You…I’m the one that should be on my knees thanking you. I’m still going to graduate on time because of you.” You shook your head. 

“It was nothing really. It’s tough to go through…a loss. It sucks. Feels like you’ve been gutted and your chest feels like someone keeps putting weight on it. It’s hard to even get up and walk most days.” You chose your words carefully. 

“Sounds like you’re familiar with this.” Harry’s eyes dropped down, tears starting to well up in his eyes. Your heart started to break. No one had been there to hold you together when your sister died by suicide. You had to hold everyone together because they were falling apart and looking to you, the oldest sibling, to fill in the cracks. It was so hard but you got through it. Now you go to therapy once a week to correct all the damage done to your mind. 

“I am.” You say stepping closer. “If…uh…I’m a good listener. You know, whenever.” Harry met your eyes and a small smile appeared on his face. 

“Thanks. I gotta go meet up with Pete for a project but catch you later?” You nodded and laughed as Harry waved goodbye. A couple weeks later Harry took you out on a date and you guys were a thing, not really a couple officially but a thing. MJ and Peter had the same thing going on. You even had your first kiss together in Pete’s backyard when you guys hung out for a movie night. Pete and MJ had gone into get more snacks and silence fell between you and Harry. You turned to him to ask him something when he kissed you. It wasn’t a perfect kiss by any means but you both kissed each other and then DIDN'T SPEAK OF IT AGAIN. Awkward as both were, kisses were still stolen in private. Graduation came and went but all of you kept in touch until Harry just disappeared one day to go to Europe. Eventually Peter and MJ found out what had happened to him, he wasn’t in Europe. He was sick and dying, he had been diagnosed with the same disease his mother died from. Shock would be an understatement as MJ was telling you this over the phone. 

“Shit that's..awful. Where are you now?” You ask when you hear a honking noise from outside your apartment complex. “Outside. Come on.” MJ answers. You laugh and grab your bag and head out the door to run into…Harry Osborn? After not seeing him in months you expected from him to be sickly, dying but he looked just like you remembered him. 

“Woah. Sorry. Uh…” He said steadying himself with his cane. You held him, got his footing and waited. “I had this whole image of me learning on the wall over here all cool while you came outside but got too excited I guess.” He even sounded the same. He had the same bright tone in his voice and he didn’t sound out of breath or anything. The look in his eyes confused you. You couldn't understand what it was but he was looking at you like he was fighting something back. But still you huff out a laugh. 

“How bout you get more of your strength back then you can try to put the moves on me, OK?” Harry laughed and pulled you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around him and let him hug you for as long as he wanted. 

“Thought I’d never see you again.” He whispered. You held on tighter and Harry let you go. “I’m sorry. I was being treated here in the city and didn't want you to worry about me. I’m OK though. I’m in remission.” Your jaw dropped. 

“That’s great. I’m glad to hear it.” Then another honk came from behind Harry. Peter was honking Harry’s car. 

“COME ON! I’D LIKE TO GET TO CONEY ISLAND TODAY!” You laughed and rolled your eyes. Harry offered you his arm and you both laughed as you carefully assented down the stairs. MJ opened the car door for you and held out a hand as you climbed in. Harry got into the driver's seat and drove to the docks where you guys caught a boat to Coney Island. Once there, all four of you went on all your favorite rides. It was just like back in high school except trouble struck. The villain known as Tombstone was captured by other bad guys? You weren’t sure because all you could do was look for your friends as you all had been separated. Tombstone looked so scared. You felt bad for him, just seconds ago he was telling you where to get the best caramel apples on Coney Island and even said thank you for talking to him. Well these people were trying to take him so as SpiderMonkey was fighting most of them off you went to try and help Tombstone. A net had been thrown on him so you started to cut it with your pocket knife, trying to free him. 

“Get outta here kid! It aint gonna cut it!” He shouted at you but you were determined to help him until you were thrown to the side landing rough. You look up to see a man standing over you with a knife. You kick him in the shin and take off only to have a sharp pain run up your thigh. The bastard had thrown his knife and it sliced through your thigh. You fell and held your hand to you leg hoping to stop the bleeding. As you hid around a corner Spider-man ran off to save the people on the busted roller coaster. You started to get light headed, wanting to call out to the hero but didn’t want the people on the roller coaster to die. 

“OH MY GOD!” You feel someone jerk you which makes you yell out in pain. You look to see MJ’s scared eyes. “Ohmygodohmygod oh no nonononono. Just stay with me alright? I’m gonna…I’m getting you help just keep putting-HARRY!” MJ screamed. Your eyes started to get heavy. You're losing too much blood. “HEY HEY HEY! DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT! LOOK AT ME!” Hands grab your face and shake slightly. Your eyes try to focus knowing the voice belongs to Harry who was desperately trying to keep you awake. 

“We gotta stop the bleeding! Keep putting pressure on the leg. I'll go get a paramedic!.” MJ says as Harry carefully puts his arm behind you and his other under your legs. He pulls you closer to him and whispers

“Just say with me. OK? I’m not losing you a second time. We barely got a chance to- '' You suddenly feel something crawling up your leg, you don't have the strength to move it but you do have enough to open your eyes. Black goo like tentacles were creeping up your leg, stopping at the gash in your thigh, the goo covers it and the pain slowly fades. Are you imagining this? “Holy shit.” Harry. Harry’s still here? The goo continues to cover your body until everything fades to black. 

You gasp for air look around frantically, your still at Coney Island but on a roof top and someone was still holding you. You look up to see Harry, sitting with you curled up against him. 

“Hey.” He breathes sounding relieved that you woke up. 

“Hi? What happened?” You ask. 

“Well…we need to talk.” You turn to see Peter in a Spider-man suit. “Now I know this might be shocking but-” “Oh please.” You croak. “I’ve known for years.” You say starting to move trying to stand. 

“Woah. Not so fast OK? You lost a lot of blood.” Harry says holding you tighter. “Your body temp is still a little low so just…for now just stay.” 

“I should be dead.” You whisper. “How is it I’m not?” Harry looks to Pete who looks right back at him. 

“I…think I healed you.” Harry says. You blink thinking he’s lost his marbles. 

“Huh.” Then tentacles start peaking out of Harry's back. So you weren’t hallucinating. “Harry what?” 

“It’s my treatment. This exoskeleton suit is healing me but…it healed you leg and then like wrapped around your entire body until you were healed enough. I have no idea who it works but I’m glad it did.” Your jaw is still on the floor not knowing what to say. “Pete and I are going to run some tests and you're gonna come. I’m not letting you out of my sight until you see Dr. Connors.” Harry says picking you up with ease. He wasn’t able to do that before. 

“Harry, how-” “The suit. It really did heal me more than I could have hoped for.” 

[the-bar-sinister]

Re-read of Superior Spider-Man (#01)

One of my favorite things is how immediately recognizable Otto's speech pattern comes from, even coming from behind Spider-man's mask or Peter Parker's face. It reads 100% as Otto from the start, and is so jarring to everyone in the story.

I especially love the fact that the reaction that commonly happens is that spider-man talks like a tool all the time, but now he's talking like a completely different tool.

I also love that Otto still has, and always has had, very proprietary feelings over the "Sinister Six". That was HIS idea! His team! and now anybody's calling themselves sinister six!

Otto is just getting used to the situation here, and he hasn't "been" Spider-Man at all yet. The first fight he runs into, he just... gets annoyed and tries to leave. I love that, he's like, LOL nope, goodbye!

And please, PLEASE look at Otto as Peter here all scienced up. Just look at his expression, his posture. UGH. <3 Personally I think Otto's better looking in his own body but I can't deny he has a kind of "Doctor Horrible" charm while he's in Peter's.

Otto learning to deal with being in Peter's body now; accessing his memories, living his life; is also really fascinatingly and familiarly portrayed to me as a plural person, so that's something I enjoy through the run, especially in the early issues.

And here's an extremely, rather beautifully sinister panel when he accepts a date with Mary Jane. 😂 Spoiler alert, he fumbles his dates with her BAD because he dates like an old man. (Don't listen to her, Otto, I'll go on old man dates with you any time <3)

The date scene also gets used to two effects. One, make Otto look like a complete tool. Look at that art. Holy shit. And two, it starts with the narrative thread of Otto being a much more tactical and ruthless Spider-Man than Peter was. He considers Peter reckless, and instead of going right after the villains he knows the location of, instead waits for the right moment.

Otto's motto is fight smarter not harder. We see the effects of it when he goes after the group, using tech and tactical advance planning to stop them, as much as his spider powers.

He's also, again, much more ruthless. And as he's beating a guy to a pulp, we get the twist ending of the first issue, which I ALSO very much like as a plural system.

There's something of Peter Parker still there in his mind, and he stops him.

And that's issue one.

This run has problems, for sure. The author is not well liked for various reasons. But there's a lot about it I love. I love the deep dive into Otto's psyche and seeing how he handles the change from hero to villain, and how the change in his life- the change in how people perceive him, starts to change him in some ways.

Also I just love him talking down to everyone constantly.