#his spotify wrapped is a mess

[mychapel-004]

morty smith would love undertale. i know toriel was one of his favourite characters. i know he avoided doing genocide route for as long as possible. i know the sans fight took him literal weeks. i know he stopped playing it in front of rick because the asshole would mock him for it (“he literally has one health point morty come on. this is getting sad” “you don’t GET IT leave me ALONE.��). i know he listens to fallen down alone in his room in the dark and it fills him with that hopeless little feeling of warm nostalgia. i know it he TOLD ME.

[schnaf]

@blueside-hobi tagged me to post my spotify wrapped, but my youtube recap is more telling, so here it is ♥

so yeah it's official now that i'm obsessed with bad omens i guess

[steddieasitgoes]

Teacher!Steve isn't big on music himself, but he has a Spotify for his students so they can listen to the songs/artists they like when they're doing independent work/quizzes/etc. He makes them submit songs periodically throughout the year so it stays updated and all their music preferences are heard.

Naturally, all his students are excited to see what a mess his Spotify Wrapped is and Steve makes sure to schedule in time for each class period so they can go through it together when its released.

Of course, it's a hot mess but they all love it, especially the videos their top artists send in.

Steve generally has no idea who sings any of the songs on the various playlists and has a lot of fun putting a face to a voice as they scroll through each video. It's pretty standard selfie shots of the artists talking until they get to one where a man with curly hair and big brown eyes is hopping around like an excitable child, practically shouting his name into the camera and rambling about how much he "appreciates each and every one of the heathens who listens to Corroded Coffin."

Steve has to do a double take because, "wait what?! this is the guy that's always shouting and singing about demons?! but he's so cute!"

His first-period class bursts into laughter at his outburst and of course someone is videoing his reaction. It gets posted to TikTok before the dismissal bell rings and by the time lunch gets there, the video of Steve going heart eyes for Eddie Munson goes viral.

Steve's embarassed but he doesn't ask his student to take it down because he knows how much they've been hoping to go viral this year. Besides, its not like anyone important is every going to see it, right?

Wrong.

Of course, chronically online Eddie Munson stumbles upon the TikTok and promptly runs through the green room, declaring his love for the beautiful Mr. Harrington, who teaches history to high schoolers for a living. He forces their assistant to drop everything he's working on and track down this Mr. Harrington guy because Eddie will not rest until he can talk to him.

Fast forward two days and Steve is hiding in his classroom during lunch, avoiding his coworkers to shamelessly flirt with Eddie Munson via Zoom.

[im-yn-suckers]

ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ? ✧˖° bf!riki x gf!reader ✧˖° tw: kissies, cuddles, mention of stress, reader is said to be short but that could literally js mean shorter than him, and only sorta maybe perhaps a little kinda self indulgent bc i want a riki ^^ a little disclaimer: idk if riki listens to all of these, as they just come off of my playlist !

your desk is covered in pens, pencils, sticky notes and other supplies. ah yes, another paper, but this time you finished in time. previously you were worrying about getting in on time and if you did it right. will the professor think its good? will i get a good grade? i hope i didnt mess up

all of these thoughts crowded your mind for days maybe even weeks. it brought you tears and pride. the final paper you so horridly dreaded now turned in as you leave your desk, not bothering to clean it up. you walk over to your bf, who was busy playing league on the couch, that filled up, almost, the entire room.

you plop down next to him, leaning on his shoulder. his scent intoxicating you, god, how you missed it for the last 3 hours. "you done pretty girl?" he asks, though not looking down, too focused on his game. you only nod. minutes pass and youre still cuddled up to him. soon enough, he turns the tv off and turns toward you, fully sideways. he lets himself fall back onto the couch, allowing you to fall w him.

a giggle leaves his pretty lips, as you fall on top of him. the couch cant fit the both of you so he improvised. you lay your head on his shoulder, almost his clavicle. you lightly peck the skin-exposed by his black hoodie-covered by pretty moles. "youre squishing me!" "shhh this was all you" he sighs in defeat. "lets go to the bed then" you sigh, not wanting to move.

on the bed, you two lay on your backs, close together. something about his calm presence when you two are in bed, ready to fall asleep, is so comforting. maybe it was his scent, as mentioned, its intoxicating, almost dizzying. or maybe his giant figure next to yours, offering a sense of protection. maybe his soft breaths as he lays down, scrolling tiktok, not quite ready to sleep, yet.

"baby, baby!" he perks up, seeing a video "hm?" you respond, on the verge of falling asleep. your eyelids droopy. "lets make a playlist and take turns adding songs!" you giggle as you hear the idea, finding it quite endearing. you nod in agreement. he opens his laptop and pulls up spotify.

tapping the plus, he creates a new playlist. "what should we name it?" he asks, trying to complete the first step. "mmmm idk, something short but cute" he types in your name to tease you. "hey!" "what?? you said short and cute!" he deletes the name, trying to think of a new one.

"wait! ki! yk the song tell my momma by kard?" you have an idea, hoping its a good one. "uhm i know OF it, why?" "how bout we put 'ill do anything to make our love last long'?" you suggest a long but sweet lyric "baby, thats corny" "so is making a playlist tgt" silence. "ugh ig ure right" you giggle and he puts down the lyric.

"ok songs, you add one first" he pushes the laptop your way and you think for a moment you add the first song, every kind of way by h.e.r, he smiles seeing the song. he takes his turn "where is love" by 3house. your turn again, "wa-r-r" by colde. his turn again, "someone like u" by lullaboy "infranumi" by steve lacy, "pink+white" by frank ocean. "seasons" by wave to earth, "3:00 am" by finding hope it goes back and forth adding songs and laughing

once you two finish, he shuts the laptop, reaching over to set it down. he turns to his side to grab you and pull you close to him. his arms wrapping around you. he presses a little kiss to your lips saying goodnight.

[afterglowsainz]

oscar piastri & 3 🧡

did i fall out of line when i called you? | oscar piastri

song; mess it up - gracie abrams

part of the spotify wrapped special

Every time Oscar got too close, he messed it up.

But it was okay; you forgave him because he was Oscar. Oscar, who had commitment issues. Oscar, who was trying hard to have a lasting relationship with you. Oscar, who loved you deeply. But you also knew he was Oscar, who couldn’t have something good without ruining it.

The day he asked you to be his girlfriend, and you said yes, he went to a club to celebrate and ended up fighting a man who had simply asked you where the bathroom was, thinking the man was flirting with you. He ended the night with a split eyebrow and a broken nose.

The day he was supposed to meet your parents, he got so nervous that he drank too much whiskey and fell asleep, missing lunch with your parents and disappointing you in the process.

The first time you went to watch one of his races in person, anxiety got the best of him, and he didn’t pick you up on the way to the airport, using the excuse that he “forgot.” You knew he hadn’t forgotten—he had simply chickened out and was too coward to admit the truth.

Still, you forgave him every time.

It was just a few hours were left until an event McLaren was hosting with one of its sponsors, and Oscar had begged you to accompany him. It didn’t take much convincing for you to agree. But something felt off; something didn’t feel right.

When Oscar suddenly stopped replying to your messages, you got worried. Early in the relationship, it happened more often—he wasn’t used to having a girlfriend, so he wasn’t used to replying to messages. It was one of the many conversations where you had to remind him that you didn’t care if he didn’t reply instantly; you knew he was a busy man. But he couldn’t go four days without responding and then show up as if nothing had happened. After that talk, his communication improved.

With less than thirty minutes left before your boyfriend was supposed to pick you up for the event, and no sign of him, you knew—without him even saying it—that he had once again changed his mind about taking you, and you wouldn’t be attending the event that night. You looked at your reflection in the mirror: the beautiful long white dress you had bought specifically for the occasion and the elegant silver jewelry adorning your neck—all for nothing.

When it became obvious Oscar wasn’t coming, you took everything off, put on your pajamas, crawled under the covers, and turned on your computer to watch a movie. At some point during the night, you checked Instagram and came across the worst thing you could’ve seen. A video of your boyfriend at the event’s afterparty, dancing with a girl who was definitely not you.

Technically, he wasn’t doing anything wrong—he hadn’t kissed her or slept with her. But the feeling of betrayal consumed you entirely and settled deep inside.

It was over.

Months had passed since the breakup, and Oscar couldn’t stop thinking about you.

You were his favorite thought whenever he didn’t have to use his brain power—while waiting in line for coffee, while driving from home to the MTC, when turning off the lights and trying to sleep. He thought about you and how much he missed you.

He knew there were many things you had forgiven him for that you didn’t have to. And he also knew that the one thing you hadn’t forgiven him for was what he regretted the most. Nothing had happened with the girl in the video—they’d only danced a couple of songs. But afterward, he felt dirty and missed you.

When he arrived at your place, he was shocked to see you crying and then shocked at how quickly your tears turned into angry shouts. You ended things, throwing him out of your apartment.

But tonight, he couldn’t sleep. He wanted to hear your voice and see you. He knew if he showed up at your place, you wouldn’t open the door. So, he settled for the second-best thing and called you.

Did he cross the line? Was it too soon? He knew the answer was yes when you didn’t answer his call. And when he called again, it went straight to voicemail.

The third-best thing, then.

Oscar opened your chat, the one he had neglected far too often but now couldn’t stop staring at, remembering the goodnight messages you used to send him and the ones wishing him luck in his races.

“I know I wasn’t a good boyfriend at all, and I know I don’t deserve you in any way, but I miss you. You made me a better person and a better man. I know every time something good happened between us, I managed to ruin it one way or another, and I’m truly sorry. But I also feel like if you let me back in, we can make it better. I can do better. I’ve improved my habits, and I’ve pulled myself back together. I’m so sorry for all the times I hurt you. I want to show you I’m not the same person as before. Please, give me one more chance.

I love you.”

Send.

[yeonzzzn]

🌷rose petals: park jongseong

part two of the no limits duology / the limits series

pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 10.8k

synopsis: life with jay (along with his four roommates and his nice) couldn’t be better. it was everything you wished for and more, even if the apartment is always in chaos. as your relationship runs deeper, jay is stuck between some important decisions.

genre: established relationship, uncle!jay, blonde!jay, restaurant owner!jay, flower shop owner!reader, smut

warnings: swearing, alcohol, overprotective jay, multiple unprotected sex scenes, breeding kink, daddy kink, semi public sex in a bathroom, dry humping, fingering, hair pulling, MINORS DNI!!!

✰ this is a spin-off to the main series, please read off limits / part one to this spin-off before reading this one. they are tagged under the title ✰

•·.·no limits spotify playlist'·.·•

“Shhh!!” Jay hissed, covering his hand over your mouth, “You need to be quiet!” Jay halted his movement, pressing his cock as deep as it could go while kissing your cervix, “You need to be quiet for daddy, ya?” 

You nodded your head, slipping your tongue into his palm and licking over towards his fingers. 

He quietly moaned, pinching your tongue between his fingers and then shoving them into your mouth, “Suck,” he demanded, letting out another quiet moan at the feeling of your mouth wrapping perfectly around his fingers. 

Jay was so close to cumming, wanting nothing more than to shoot his load into you, to breed the fuck out of your pretty pussy. How could he not want that? Not when you look so sexy in this pretty blue dress of yours. If this dress wasn’t for his sister's wedding, he’d be tearing it into pieces. 

Jay took a handful of your hair and pulled you off the bathroom counter he had you bent over against, keeping your back pressed tightly to his chest as he fucked into you harder and faster, his lips connecting to your ear, “Gonna cum so deep in this cunt. Breed the hell out of it. It’s mine. All mine.” 

You kept sucking on his fingers, your free hand gripping the counter in front of you, holding on for dear life as your boyfriend’s thrusts got sloppy, his breaths becoming uneven as he chased after his orgasm. 

“I’m cumming,” he breathed out, his hand in your hair falling to your breast, tightly squeezing, “Oh fuck I’m cumming baby.” One final thrust, and his seed painted your walls white, making it the perfect painting. 

Jay bent you back over the counter, continuing his slow thrusts to ride out his high, using your cunt to milk him completely. Once he had his fill, he slowly pulled out and pulled down your dress, giving your ass a quick squeeze before readjusting his pants. 

You stood up straight as best as you could, fixing your hair in the mirror, “Seongie, you better be lucky you didn’t mess up my hair too much.” 

Jay smirked, pressing his chest against your back, leaning his head on your shoulder, “Better watch that tone, I’ll fuck you up so hard back at your apartment tonight.” 

You roll your eyes playfully and lean back into him, loving the way he instinctively wraps his arms around your waist, “It wouldn’t be me to beat your ass for messing up my hair, it would be your sister.” 

Jay laughed, “Yeah, she would,” Jay twisted you around to face him, his gentle hands pushing your hair behind your ears, “You’re so beautiful.” 

You stood on your tip toes and gave him a quick kiss, “We should be going.” 

He nodded, “Yeah,” he said with a sigh, “Let’s go watch my baby sister get married to my best friend.” 

To say Jay was a mess during the wedding would be an understatement. He stood to Jake’s left as his best man, with Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Shotaro to the left of him, while you being the maid of honor and standing off to his sister’s right, with some of her old college friends to your right. 

It was a beautiful wedding, and it took Sunghoon everything to hold Jay back once Jake and __ had their first kiss as husband and wife. Jay will always be that protective big brother through and through. Once their first kiss was over, little Hwa jumped off her grandmother's lap and rushed over to her parents, arms stretched out and her giggles filling the venue. Jay almost crumbled to the floor at how adorable his niece was. 

After the venue cleared out and all the wedding photos were taken, it was time for the reception. 

“Ughhhh” Jake groaned, shoving a spoonful of food into his mouth, “This food is so fucking good.” 

Jay raised a brow, “Yeah because my restaurant catered your wedding? Obviously, the food is going to be good.” 

Jake was too much in heaven with the food orgasm he was having to worry about making a smart remark to his best friend and just kept chewing away at his food. 

__ crossed her arms over her chest, watching her new husband, “Maybe you should have married my brother instead by the way you’re eating his food.” 

Jay chuckled and pulled you closer to him, “Nah you can keep him stinks.” 

Jake swallowed the food and set the plate down, smiling so brightly at his wife, “Baby, I promise to eat you out so good later tonight don’t you worry.” 

“Dude,” Heeseung said, scrunching his nose, “I don’t want to know about the sexual activities that are going to take place tonight.” 

“Agreed,” Sunghoon, who was also scrunching his nose, said as he raised his beer bottle to his lips, “Thank god we don’t have to listen to it tonight.” 

Jake flipped each of his friends off but then landed his eyes on Jay and you, pointing his index finger at the two of you, “You guys act like you’re safe with these two will more than likely be doing the exact same thing.” 

Jay swatted Jake’s pointer finger away, “I’m staying at her apartment tonight, you lot won’t be hearing shit from us tonight.” 

Heeseung and Sunghoon quickly high-fived at the fact of having the apartment alone for once. Jake’s parents will be having Hwa at their house tonight, so Heeseung and Sunghoon will definitely have the apartment to themselves. 

You smiled at your friends, watching how each of them now trailed off into different conversations. Watching how Jay kept picking fun at Jake, and __ picking fun at her brother. Heeseung and Sunghoon eventually joined in, the five of them showing and proving once more that some friendships won’t ever end. 

It made you want to cry, not out of sadness, but pure happiness. They all grew up together and it warms your heart knowing that they all were soulmates in this life and probably every life after this one. 

Sunghoon took a quick glance at you, “Hey, YN!” his voice pulled you out of your thoughts, “Why are you standing alone, come over here!” 

Jake and __ both reached a hand out to grab both your wrists, “You’re very much a part of this family,” Jake said, giving you a wink and looking over at Jay as they pulled you into the circle, “No need to be standing by yourself.” 

“Exactly!” __ said in agreement. Heeseung wrapped an arm around your shoulder and Sunghoon stood behind you where you and Heeseung connected and pulled the two of you closer to him with his arms around you both. 

“You’re with our Jonggie,” Heeseung teased, “Hwa calls you her aunt, you’re in this family whether you like it or not.” 

You smiled at each of them, giving a nod. Words couldn’t describe how loved you felt at this moment. Jay couldn’t take his eyes off you, loving how big your smile was and loving how much his friends—his family—adored you. “Okay, okay!” he finally spoke up, shooting Heeseung and Sunghoon off you, “Lemme have my girlfriend.” 

Jay pulled you to him and into a kiss. The sounds of everyone around the two of you making fake gagging noises, “Nah, I don’t wanna hear it!” Jay said, trying to act annoyed but his smile being the tell-all, “Not when Jake can’t keep his lips off my baby sister!” 

More banter started up, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The reception finally came to an end and it was time to see off the bride and groom, which Jay was an even worse mess with. He finally let go of the tears he’d held in during the wedding and let them fall. 

“She’s all grown up,” Jay said in a whisper, watching with fond eyes as Jake and __ climbed into their car to head off to their hotel for the night, “It’s so hard to believe after growing up together that she’s a mother and married to one of my best friends.” 

You hugged your boyfriend tightly. You’d say you understood how he felt, but you didn’t, being the only child and all. 

“Jay,” you whispered, kissing his cheek and wiping away his tears, “Jake will take care of her, he always has, hasn’t he?” 

Jay looks down at you, his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter. He knew Jake would take care of his sister. In a silly way, it’s true, Jake always took care of her. They were made for each other, that’s for sure. So he nods at you, smiling at you, “Let’s get out of here, I’m ready to get you out of this dress.” 

—

Jake stood in the kitchen, staring Jay down. His arms crossed and eyes narrowed. 

“Stop looking at me like that!” Jay snapped, “What’s your problem?” Jay just wanted to enjoy the french toast he made for breakfast. You were already halfway done eating yours, being completely unfazed by Jake’s glare. 

“I don’t have a problem,” Jake said with a tilt of his head, “Just that Heeseung’s birthday is coming up and so is Halloween.” 

Jay scoffed and took a bite out of his breakfast, “And?” 

“Annnddddd,” Jake dragged out, “We should go to a Halloween party and celebrate his birthday.” 

Jay dropped his toast back on the plate, “And where the hell is this party then, huh?” Jay shook his head, “Who is going to watch Hwa?” 

Jake smirked, “Taro and his friends would be throwing the party. And I’d ask my parents or yours to watch my baby girl.” 

You raised a brow, “So this party isn’t even planned yet? Isn’t Heeseung's birthday next week?” 

Jake shrugged, “Still a work in progress.” 

“What is?” speak of the devil and he shall appear. Heeseung walks into the kitchen with a tub of ice cream, “What are we working in progress?” 

“Your birthday and Halloween party,” Jay said, earning another glare from Jake, “What?” 

“It was supposed to be a secret!” Jake snapped, cocking his head to the side, facial expression tensed. 

“Damn,” Jay took a deep breath, “You look like you just murdered someone, giving me that look and shit.” Jake’s eyes widened and his lips curled into a smile, “Stop that! You look creepy!” Jay scrunched his nose, reaching back for his toast. 

“I know what I should be for Halloween!” Jake nearly shouted, “I can be a ghost face!” 

Heeseung was the one scrunching his nose now, “Have fun with that buddy.” 

“Anyway,” Jake said, putting his attention on Heeseung, “What do you think?” 

Heeseung took another bite of his ice cream, “Already got plans.” 

“Huh?” Both Jay and Jake said in unison, looking over at their eldest friend, “What do you mean?” 

Heeseung shrugged, “I’m getting laid that night. Meeting up with an old flame from college.” 

You tried to not laugh, not knowing if Heeseung was being serious or not, but by the looks on Jay and Jake’s faces said very well that Heeseung wasn’t joking.  

“Dude,” Jake whined, “Just bring her to the party.” 

Heeseung glanced up at the ceiling, “Hmmm, nah. Have fun though!” 

Heeseung turned and walked off to his room, Jake following behind like a lost puppy trying to convince his friend for the party. 

Jay chuckled, “Some things never change.”

You finished your last bite of your toast, “Has Jake always been a partier?” 

Jay shrugged, “Yes and no. It was worse the first year of college, but as the time went off it was just a weekend type thing to every other weekend. Then he started dating my sister and it became less and less. Now it’s once in a blue moon.” 

You nodded, it sounded about right. For the almost two years you’ve been dating Jay, the six of you only attended maybe a total of four parties? It wasn’t a lot. 

“He’ll get over it,” Jay said, finally being able to dig into his breakfast, “Wait was Heeseung eating ice cream for breakfast?!” 

You giggled, whipping off some powder from your boyfriend’s lip, “He was up all night playing video games, I don’t think he’s slept yet.” 

And now Jay was on his feet and rushing towards Heeseung’s room to force the man to bed. You leaned your elbows onto the table, it’s never a boring day here in the Parks/Lee/Sim household. 

—

Jay peeked into the window of your flower shop, his smile big as he saw you at the counter. Your long hair was tied back into a perfect bun with small strands at each side of your face. You had the sleeves of your shirt rolled up above your elbows and your tan apron tied nicely at your waist, your blue jeans covered in dirt from plants and soil. 

You had a focused smile as you arranged a rose bouquet for a client. 

Jay tapped on the window, bringing your attention to him. Your smile grew more, tilting your head to tell him to come inside. You watched him with endearment as he walked in, holding a plastic bag, “Left the restaurant early today, thought we could have lunch together.” 

You wiggled your brows at him, “Whatchu make me?” 

He placed the bag on the counter, leaning his forearms against the wood and tipping over the counter to connect his lips to yours in a quick kiss, “Roasted lemon chicken breast with mashed potatoes and corn.” 

You leaned over the counter now, pressing your lips to his and taking the bag, “My favorite!” 

He leaned on his elbows, “I know. Trust me, I know my baby.” 

Your hands couldn’t pull out the foam boxes quick enough, you were starving. Your boyfriend chuckles at your impatience, “Here,” he said, taking the bag and to-go boxes from you, “Go wash your hands, I’ll set it all up.” 

In a flash you returned with clean hands, ready to dig into your meal. To say you were blessed to be dating a man who can cook would be an understatement. Words weren’t enough. 

You both ate, devouring the meal as if it were your last. You sign and pat your tummy, “That hit the spot.” 

 “My cooking always does,” he flashed you his famous smile, gathering up the trash. 

You returned your focus back to the rose bouquet, “I am guessing it was slow today?” 

Jay completely leaned against the counter, eyes watching your hands work against the roses, “Pretty much. Yunjin practically shoved me out the door saying she could handle everything.” 

You giggled at your best friend's behavior, “That sounds like her.” 

Jay trailed his eyes up to your face, his heart rate accelerating. For whatever reason, seeing you working got him going. He loved seeing you work. Loved how focused you’d get on a project. Maybe it was you weren’t working because you had to, but because you wanted to. And you enjoyed it. Just like how he loved running his restaurant. The two of you found a passion that was worth being on your feet for hours at a time for. 

“Might as well take a picture if you’re going to stare at me like that,” you teased him, shifting your eyes over to him. 

“I’m allowed to stare at my sexy girlfriend, leave me be,” he teased back, reaching his hand up and pinching your right face cheek, “You’re just so hot when you’re focused on something.” 

You swatted his hand away with a laugh, “You’re silly.” 

He looked back down at the bouquet, taking in the design of the glass vase, “What’s the occasion?” 

“A proposal,” you took notice of the way Jay’s eyes looked back up at you, but you held your gaze on the roses, “This client is in here all the time picking up different types of bouquets for his girl. He called earlier saying he’s finally proposing,” you smiled, finally meeting Jay’s eyes, “This is my first wedding proposal bouquet, I am a bit nervous.” 

“Babe,” he said with a tilt of his head, his hand pulling at the pocket of your apron, “You haven’t failed a client since we opened this shop. YN, you’re killing it here, I don’t think you have a thing to worry about. Mostly if this client comes in here all the time.” 

You looked back at the bouquet, the corners of your lips curling, “He is in here at least three times a week.”

“See?” Jay smiled, now pulling at the top of the apron, and pulled you towards him, embracing your lips with his, kissing you softly, “You must be doing something right.” 

You kissed him back, leaning closer into his as his hand snaked up to your neck, thumb rubbing against your jaw. 

Jay attempted to deepen the kiss, being so ready to lock the doors and pull the blinds down over the windows and bend your pretty body over this counter, but you killed his dream too quickly by pulling away, “Easy there, sir,” you giggled, backing away from the counter, “My client will be here at any minute, I need to finish this.” 

Jay groaned in a childlike manner, “Babbbeeeeee.” 

You ignored him, grabbing a pretty cream silk ribbon to tie around the vase, “You will literally see me when I get off,” you tell him. He sighs, but knows you were right. He’d just have to shove your face into his pillows later tonight. 

He took one final look at the rose bouquet, watching how your fingers adjusted the petals and he smiled wide, “My rose petal.” 

You glanced up at him, confused, “I’m sorry?” 

“My rose petal,” he repeated, locking eyes with you, “You’re my little rose petal.” 

You couldn’t help but look at him with endearment. He’s always addressed you by your name, baby, or babe. But now you have an official nickname, and you couldn’t be happier. 

“Come here, my rose petal,” he said, stepping away from the counter and stretching out his arms. 

You rushed over to him, pressing your body to his and squeezing him tightly, “I love you,” you nuzzled your face in his neck, taking him his scent. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I love you too, so very much,” He kissed your forehead again and gently removed you from him, “Get back to work, I’ll see you later.” 

You smiled, giving him a nod. The whole drive back to the apartment Jay kept replaying over and over in his about the client and the proposal, hoping it would go well for the guy. But images of you kept popping up. You in a pretty dress, walking down the aisle towards him. Jay quickly shook his head, snapping him out of the thoughts and focusing back on the drive. 

—

The last thing you expected to do on your day off was traveling around town apartment/house shopping with your boyfriend's baby sister. Not that you minded, you loved spending time with her and loved her to death. She just…had an urgency about looking at new homes. 

She let out a massive sigh as she glanced around the ninth apartment the two of you have looked at today, “This one is…a bit too small.” 

You gave a small shrug, wrapping your arms over your chest, “It is small, but it’d just be you, Jake, and Hwa, so you won’t need too much space.” 

She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes scanning the living room, “Yeah, I guess? But I was thinking something a bit bigger.” 

“For having guests over?” you tried to picture this living room with enough couch space, TV, coffee table, and Hwa’s toys and then added in the family. Yeah, this place wouldn’t fit everyone. 

She kept quiet, now biting at her nails and taking one final look then turning on her heels, “Let’s check out that apartment across the street before we move onto another area.” 

You followed behind her, “Not that I am not grateful that you invited me,” you said going down two steps at a time to keep up with her, “But why did Jake not come along? Or even Jay? They probably would be better at this kind of shopping than me.” you didn’t even shop for the apartment you live in now, your parents did. All you did was move into it. So you couldn’t help but feel like you weren’t exactly being of help to her. 

“My brother would be too nitpicky about every detail. It took him forever to find the apartment we are in now,” yeah that sounds about right for Jay, “and Jake would think each place we look at would be good enough. Silly pup would be happy with just about anything,” and that also sounds on point for Jake, “They are both working at the software company. Jae said there’s a big project so my brother is helping out. But I also value your opinion, a lot more than you think and I needed some much-needed girl time.” 

You nodded, finally getting caught up with her. Sometimes you forget her best friend is a male and she spends 90% of her time with well…the males in the apartment. It made sense for her to cling to you when she could. 

But you still couldn’t shake the feeling of why this was a must right now. Like why the rush? 

You continued following behind her as she double-checked the apartment numbers and ran up the stairs and found the final apartment in this area. This apartment was much bigger. Had three rooms, the kitchen was a decent size and the living room was spacious. Her eyes lit up with glee as she walked around the whole apartment twice. 

“YN, this one is perfect! Jake would be happy and Jay would approve too!” She clapped her hands together, “What do you think?!” 

You looked around and gave her a big smile, “It is pretty perfect, isn’t it?” 

She squealed and pulled you into a hug, “I can’t wait to show Jake.”

She released you from her embrace and pulled her phone from her pocket, snapping a few photos and immediately sending them to Jake. Her smile was so big and bright that it was contagious, you couldn’t help but feed off her energy. Even if something was still off. 

She ran her hands from her hips to her belly, giving it a small squeeze before dropping her hands at her side. You couldn’t handle not knowing what was going on anymore. 

“Hey, __,” you softly spoke, getting her attention anyway, “What is actually going on? Why were you in such a rush to find somewhere else to live? You know Jay has no problem with you three still living there.” 

Her smile faded as she stared off into the distance out the window, “Because our family is growing,” she cupped her hands back on her belly, “YN, I am pregnant.” 

You rushed to her, taking her hands in yours, “Are you for real? Are you pregnant again? Hwa will have a sibling!!” 

She smiled ear to ear and did a small jump, “I am! I found out a week ago!” 

You jumped with her until neither of you could jump anymore, completely out of breath, “I am sure Jake was so happy!” 

She chuckled, “Well,” her fingers traced along the necklace that was once Jake’s twisting the double pendants between her fingers, “Jake doesn’t know yet. Neither does my brother or anyone else! You’re the first to know!” 

You placed a hand over your heart, “I’M the first to know?!” 

She nodded, “But you can’t tell anyone! I am planning a surprise. Regardless, I was going to tell you today, but I have a plan!” It was your turn to squeal and get excited for her, “But that is why I was in a rush to find another apartment. The one now is crowded, there’s six of us and seven when you are there. Imagine another baby there?” 

You thinned your lips, completely understanding. The apartment was thankfully big enough to house everyone, but when everyone was out of their rooms…it became very crowded fast. And when Shotaro was also there to hang out? Or Yunjin when she was with you? Even worse. 

“I get it,” you said, giving a smile, “I’ll keep it a secret until you’re ready to tell it!” 

She pulled you into a hug, “Thank you so much, YN. Truly. I am happy to have you in my life.” 

You hugged her back tighter, “I am happy to have you in my life too.” 

She pulled away, taking a deep breath and taking in the apartment, “Wow, this will really be my new home.” 

Jake rolled over to Jay in his chair, “Dude, check out the apartment __ found!” 

Jay glanced over, “Damn, that looks nice.” 

“Doesn’t it?” Jake giggled, “Hard to believe we won’t be under the same roof anymore.” 

Jay smirked, “Yeah, I’ll finally have peace and quiet.” 

Jake rolled his eyes, “No you won’t. Not with Heeseung and Sunghoon still there.” 

Jay shrugged, “That’s true. We’d have an extra bedroom though,” Jay leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head lost in deep thought, “It’ll be weird not seeing you both every day.” 

His best friend sighed, tossing his phone onto the desk. “Yeah, it’ll definitely be an adjustment.” 

Jay all of a sudden didn’t like the idea of his best friend and sister moving out of the apartment. Yes, he still would have Heeseung and Sunghoon. But he grew up with Jake and his sister always being around too. It was weird enough being away from his sister those few years of college before she moved in. He’d have to get used to not having her around again. And not only that but he wouldn’t see Hwa every day. How would he survive not seeing his beautiful niece every day?

Jake could see the gears turning in Jay’s head, “Hey, no. Stop that,” Jay looked at his friend confused, “You’re acting like you’d never see us again. We are in the same town, you don’t have to worry about not seeing us.” 

Jay knew that. It just wouldn’t be as often as he’d want.

“I’m just being a big brother, I’ll be fine.” Jay tried to focus back on the computer screen. But Jake just smiled, knowing Jay was just sad. Proof enough that he loved each of them. 

“Just have YN move in,” Jake suggested, standing to his feet and stretching, “I am sure she’d be happy to get out of that apartment to cut that tie with her parents.” 

Jay has thought about that solution many times, but the apartment was already crowded, and never brought it up, but now…maybe. Who knows? 

“Let’s get out of here,” Jake said with a yawn, “I want to get home.” 

Jay also yawned and nodded. He wanted to get back home before you and his sister came home anyway and have dinner ready. With a stretch, Jay followed Jake out of the building. 

—

You opened the door to Jay’s bedroom, seeing him at his desk playing some kind of strategic video game. Jay heard the door open and quickly whipped around, giving you a big smile before turning back to his game, “Hey there pretty girl,” he slid one of the earmuffs of the headset from his ear, “There’s chicken pasta on the stove.” 

If you were being honest, you were hungry and that chicken pasta smelled the whole apartment up and smelt delicious, but it wasn't exactly what you were hungry for at that moment. You’ll eat the pasta, just not right now. 

Ever since finding out __ was pregnant again, you couldn’t help but think about that life with Jay. You thought back to the night you and Jay watched Hwa together, for the very first time. You remembered how he looked at you with his niece with such endearment and flat-out asking you to have a baby with him. You were flustered at first, still way too new to the relationship to actually consider it. But now? After __ announced her pregnancy to you? All you could hope for was that Jay still felt that way. 

You were on autopilot. One moment you stood in his bedroom doorway, the next the door was closed and locked and you were climbing into his lap, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

Jay adjusted a bit in the chair to help make you and himself more comfortable, one hand leaving the keyboard to rub up and down your back for a few seconds, “Everything okay, baby?” he asked, being slightly worried something was wrong. 

You nod, nuzzling your face into his neck, breathing in the smell of his cologne, “Just want to be close to you.”

Jay smiled, lifting his other hand from his gaming mouse to wrap you in a tight hug and kiss your cheek then resumed his game, “Why don’t you go get some food and come back, ya? I can finish up this match and we watch a movie, how does that sound?” 

You didn’t answer, not because you didn’t want to, but because your mouth was now attaching itself to his neck and your fingers gripped into his shirt, slightly pulling. 

He was getting hard underneath you, his focus on his game was swaying. It took so much concentration to not throw his head back into the headrest and moan out at how much pleasure he was feeling just by your lips on his skin. Jay was starting to lose his self-control, wanting badly to toss his hands away from the keyboard and mouse and touch you. To grip your hips and push himself up against you. 

“Baby,” he breathed, “You’re being really distracting right now,” he started slowly bucking his hips up, rubbing his now fully hard cock against your heat, loving how the thin material of his and your shorts made it easier to feel up against you. You moaned against his neck, taking a small bite of his skin just below his jawline, “Fuck, YN,” he whimpers, fingers gripping his keyboard and mouse, “What’s gotten into you tonight, my rose petal?” 

Your lips left his neck and trailed up to the corner of his mouth, “Let’s make a baby,” you whispered, brushing your nose against his and staring into his eyes. 

Jay chuckles, hands finally abandoning his gaming items and squeezing your hips, “Yeah? You wanna make a baby, princess?” he pushed you down hard against him, a gasp releasing from your mouth, “All you gotta do is ask,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your lips, one hand sliding from your hip and down to your ass and then where you needed him the most, his knuckle rubbing against your clothed cunt, “Ask daddy to fuck you,” his teeth nipped at your button lip, causing your hips to rock more against his length. 

Your hands moved to the waistband of his shorts, looping your fingers at the material and tugging, “Fuck me, please.”’

He shifted himself up, letting you pull his shorts and boxers down to his thighs, your hand wrapping around his cock and slowly pumping him, “Say it again, princess,” he demanded with a groan, fingers now pulling your shorts and panties to the side, feeling your slick pool out and onto his hand, “Ask me again.” 

You lifted up, adjusting his tip to your entrance, his free hand holding you in place until you do as he said, “Please fuck me, daddy.” 

Jay smirks, all you had to do was ask. He pushed himself into you, his tip kissing perfectly against your cervix, “Oh fuck baby,” he moans, connecting his lips to yours, kissing you aggressively as he fucked up into you, “Bounce on my cock, pretty girl.” 

You gripped the back of the chair and moved against him. His hands gripped your ass, assisting your movements as you rode him, his hips bucking up in time with your movement. You picked up your pace, throwing your head back, “F-feels s-so good,” his hands squeezed your ass harder, hips fucking into you faster, “Jayyyy.”

“Shit, baby,” he groans, “Love it when you moan out my name.” 

Jay was in pure bliss. Everything about this moment was so sexy to him. The way you come home to him and immediately straddle him and tell him you want to make a child and beg him to fuck you? It was so hot. Regardless if you meant it about making a baby with him, he’s going to breed your cunt and fill you whole with his cum. Just the thought of getting you pregnant sent him spiraling. He wanted to cum. Now. Jay could already feel you were close by the way you hugged him tightly. 

Jay quickly removed his headset, not wasting another moment sitting in this chair, and shifted the two of you over onto his bed. His hands gripped your legs and lifted them up over his shoulders, pistoning into faster and pinning your hands above your head. 

Your jaw went slack and moaned out his name, chanting it as if it were the only word you knew how to speak, and oh god was it music to his ears. 

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, “Keep screaming my name. Fuck, please keep screaming my name,” your legs twitched and cunt clenched, causing Jay to smirk, “Is my baby close?” 

You nodded, squeezing his hands, trying to find the words to tell him yes. Jay could see it written all over your face on how badly you wanted to cum, how badly you wanted him to cum. 

You clenched around him tighter, that knot snapping and pleasure washing over you. Your arched your back as you came around his cock. 

Jay’s breathing was becoming uneven, thrusts getting sloppy and head leaning against your knee, leaving kisses against your skin, “Going to cum soon baby,” he barely said above a whisper, “Going to fill this pretty cunt up with my cum, going to breed you, fuck,” 

His eyes closed tightly, his whole body shuddering at the final thrust, his cum painting your walls white. His thrusts slowly came to a stop, his hips pressing hard against yours as the last bit of his seed made its way into your cunt. Jay trailed kisses from your knee and down to your thigh and then finally your lips, releasing your hands from his grip and cupping your face, “I love you so much.” 

You sleepily smiled against his lips and before you could respond, your stomach did it for you. 

Jay chuckled against your mouth, “Let’s get you cleaned up and get food in that stomach,” he gave you one final kiss and then slowly pulled himself out, making his way to his dresser and taking a clean pair of red-checkered boxers out and coming back to you. 

He carefully removed your shorts and panties off your body, using the box of tissues at his nightstand table to clean you up. He could feel your eyes on him, staring at him with so much love, “You always look at me like that while I am taking care of you.” 

All you could do was smile, “Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” 

He smiles and pulls his boxers over your legs and hips, “I’ll wash your clothes for you,” he helps you stand to your feet, holding you close to his chest, “How about after you eat, we watch that movie now, hmm?” 

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss him, “I would love that. Almost as much as I love you.” 

Jay picked you up in his arms, squeezing you tightly. He didn’t think it would be possible to fall more in love with you every day, yet here he is, another day into your relationship, and more in love with you than yesterday. 

—

“Okay, everyone!” Jay’s sister says above the chatter of everyone, her voice doing nothing to silence the area. 

Jay takes a look around at everyone, “HEY!” he shouts, “Stinks has something to say!” 

The talking stopped, making the restaurant quiet. 

“Thank you, big brother!” she said, giving him two finger guns. 

Jay just lifts a brow, “Can you just hurry up and tell us why we had to have this big meeting here at my restaurant? I have to open those doors in thirty minutes for business.” 

His sister crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes at her brother. You could tell she was nervous and could see the small sweat droplets that were collecting on the sides of her face. You knew what she had planned and how she was going to execute the plan about telling everyone she was pregnant again. From what you were told, when she and Jake found out they were pregnant with Hwa, there wasn’t any plan made to reveal the pregnancy. She told Jake and then Jay just so happened to walk in afterwards. But this time she wanted it to be different, she wanted to be able to tell the ones who mean the most to her all at once. To make it special. 

“And we want to eat!” Sunghoon teased, “Need me some protein and Jay has the best chicken here!” 

“He honestly does,” Shotaro added, “I’ve never been able to get chicken anywhere since having it here.” 

“I personally think the steak is the best here,” Heeseung shrugged, “Way better than the chicken.” 

“Jay’s baking is actually top-notch and better than everything else here, sorry not sorry guys!” Yunjin giggled, nudging her elbow into Heeseung’s back. 

“Guys, guys,” Jake cleared his throat, “Everything on the damn menu is fantastic, ain’t that right Jay!?” 

Jay shrugged, “Flattering me won’t get you free food.” 

“Come on man!” Jake groaned. 

You noticed how __ started to fidget with her fingers, biting her lower lip and staring off to the floor. The anxiety was starting to eat at her. 

You needed to do something. 

Hwa was sitting in your lap, her little fingers twisting a plastic spoon around, “Sfoon!” she giggled, showing you the spoon, “Sfoon!” 

You pinched her cheek and laid a kiss on your forehead before sliding her out of your lap and to the floor, she stood in place but made eye contact with her father, now showing him the spoon, “Da-da, sfoon!” 

Jake held his arms out to his daughter, her little legs making their way to his side, and leaning into his thigh. 

You stood from the table and were now at __’s side, “Hey! Can we get back on why we are here!” you shouted, bringing everyone’s attention back where it needed to be. 

“Yes, thank you, YN,” she said with a shaky voice. 

Jay finally clocked her anxiousness and so did Jake, “Stinks,” her brother took a deep breath, “What’s going on?” 

Jake nodded, “Baby, is everything okay?” 

“Well, I uhh…” you reached for her hand, interlocking your fingers with hers. She looked at you, as if waiting for the okay. You smile and nod, giving her that support she needs. She smiled back, squeezing your hand, “I have an announcement to make,” she one by one looked at everyone, locking eyes with Jay and Jake lastly, the two most important people in this room to her. Her smile grew wider, “I’m pregnant!” she said, doing a small little dance, “I am pregnant again.” 

Jake was at his wife’s side instantly, pulling her into a tight hug and rocking her back and forth, “No fucking way!” he laughed, “We’re pregnant again?!” 

“Yes, babe!” she now had tears rolling down her eyes, “We’re going to have another baby.” 

Heeseung, Sunghoon, Shotaro, and Yunjin all were now at their side, giving hugs and congratulations. Little Hwa hugged onto her mother's legs and reached her arms up to be held, “You hear that baby girl?” Jake said, picking up his daughter and creating a group hug with her and his wife, “You’ll have a little sibling soon!” 

You finally were able to get a hug in with the three of them, “Congratulations, I am so happy for you two!” 

Jake wiggled his eyebrows, “You knew didn’t you?” 

You gave him a wink and held your index finger to your lips. Hwa was now looking at you, her little spoon being waved around and arms reaching out for you, “YN!” she said with her tiny voice, “Up!” 

You took her in your arms, cuddling her close to you, “Hwa will be a big sister!” you tickled her tummy, her laughs filling the restaurant. 

Jay was still shocked. He’ll be an uncle of two? He couldn’t ask for anything more. He finally stood from the table, yanking Jake by the back of his hoodie and pulling him from his sister, and embracing her in his arms, “Stinks, I can’t believe it!” 

She hugged her big brother back tightly, “I know, it is hard to believe it for me too!” 

Jay pulled her back, hands resting on her shoulders, “I’ll be an uncle to two now?!” 

Jake wrapped his arm around Jay’s shoulder, “And I’ll be a dad of two…shit is fucking crazy!” 

That’s right…

Jay tilted away from his best friend, giving him a dirty look. Jake raises a brow, looking between his wife and Jay, “What?” 

“You know what.” 

Jake rolled his eyes, “Brother, I told you I was going to knock her up again! She’s my wife!” 

__ chuckles and pulls her husband and brother into a tight hug, “I love you both so much.” 

With a shrug of his shoulders, Jay embraces the both of them. Their little family was growing even more, and he couldn’t be happier about it. 

Jay was finally able to open the restaurant, sitting his friends and family down at their normal table and getting Yunjin to start taking customers' orders with him. 

Jay focused on putting his family’s order into their new tablets for order taking, pressing each button one by one when Yunjin leaned her arm against his shoulder, “When are the two of you having one?” 

“Excuse me?”Jay said with a brow raise, shifting her arm off his shoulder, “I’m your boss while on the clock, don’t forget that.” 

Yunjin just rolls her eyes and flips her red hair behind her shoulder, “You know I don’t care,” she shrugs, “Answer my question though, when are you going to knock up my best friend?” With a sigh Jay sets the tablet down on the counter, glaring at her, but she glares back, “Don’t look at me like that, it’s a genuine question! I mean look at her!” she points over to you, “She’s the perfect aunt to Hwa.” 

Jay looks back at the table you all sat at, seeing how his niece clung to you as you placed kisses on her small face. Seeing you with Hwa makes his brain go into a spiral. If you were like this with his niece how would you be with his child? He couldn’t get the image of you pregnant out of his head. Carrying his child and starting a family with him and growing the park family even more. It’s always been a thought in his head since the very first moment he saw you with Hwa. Is it a coincidence that you asked him to make a baby not too long ago? He couldn’t stop all these thoughts circulating in his brain. 

Your best friend smirks, “You’re so thinking about getting her pregnant.” 

Jay quickly looks back at her and tosses the tablet into her hands, “Go take some orders before I fire you.” 

She chuckles and turns on her heels, “You won’t fire me. YN wouldn’t allow it.”

Even with a smile on his face, he still rolled his eyes hard. 

—

They all clinked their beer glasses together and cheered, the four males chugging down the drinks. 

“Dude,” Heeseung said, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder, “Can’t believe you’ll have two kids soon.” 

Sunghoon reached for the basket of chips, “I can’t believe she let you get her pregnant again, isn’t one kid with you enough?” he teased. 

Jay laughed, “You’d think so!” 

Jake scowls at his friends, “Man, fuck you guys!” he brings his beer glass to his lips, chugging it down. 

“Come on,” Jay smiled, “We are just yanking your chain! We are all happy for you.” Which was the truth. Even with all the teasing and overprotectiveness Jay had for him and his sister, he wouldn’t want anyone else to be married to his sister and the father of his niece and future nephew/niece. 

“Let’s be honest here though,” Sunghoon said with a mouthful of chips, “You’re going to have a girl again.” 

Jake groaned and slumped himself down on the table, “It’ll be over for me if __ is pregnant with another girl.” 

“You think it’ll be the end for you,” Heeseung pointed over to Jay, “Jay will lose his shit.” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Sunghoon agreed, reaching for more chips, “Him going nuts over Hwa was bad enough.”’

“Manifesting a boy, don’t you worry,” Jay said, flicking his finger against Jake’s forehead, “It’ll be the end of us both if my sister has another girl.” 

“I need another drink,” Jake groans, standing from the table, “I’m getting us refills.” 

“Get more chips too!” Sunghoon called after him. 

Jake returned shortly with another basket of chips and refills for everyone. Each of them chugging down half of their glasses. 

The conversation moved from Jake’s future second child to random things about each other's jobs and how Sunghoon’s hockey season was going. 

“We could be traveling out of the country for future games,” Sunghoon clapped his hands, “Only if we do good this season.” 

“I’m sure you guys will,” Jake shoved his friend’s shoulder, “You guys always kill it!” 

Heeseung glances over at Jay, noticing his silence and noticing how Jay stared down at his beer glass and tapped the pad of his index and middle finger against the glass, watching the water droplets slide down. 

“You good man?” Heeseung finally asked, causing Jake and Sunghoon to stop talking and look over at Jay, worry on their faces now too. 

Jay looked between his three friends, “Yeah, I’m good. Just listening.” He took a sip of his beer. 

Heeseung raised his eyebrows, “You don’t ever just listen. Jay, what’s going on in that head of yours?” 

His friends all kept their eyes on him, waiting for him to speak. He sighs, knowing he had no choice but to talk, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about getting YN pregnant.” 

Jake’s eyes widened with excitement, mouth smiled wide, “Seriously?! Dude, that's massive!” 

Jay wasn’t sure if he should smile or frown, so he decided on an awkward smile. 

“Why is this even a debate?” Sunghoon asks, taking notice of the war going on in Jay’s brain, “Why do you sound conflicted?” 

Jay took another sip of his beer and then sighed, “A while back, I mentioned to YN about having a baby together. She brushed it off that we weren’t together long enough and still had plenty of time to discuss it.” 

“Which is fair,” Heeseung added, “How long were you two dating at that point?” 

“Roughly three months.”

Jake blew out a whistle, “Damn and you guys thought I was bad with __.” 

Jay glared, kicking his foot under the table against Jake’s shin. 

“Anyway,” Sunghoon shoved more chips in his mouth and took a sip of his beer, “Continue the story.” 

“The day my sister and YN went apartment shopping for you two,” he pointed at Jake, “When they returned to the apartment, she…” Jay smirked at the memory. 

“Okay,” Heeseung waved his hand, “We got it, y’all fucked, get on with it.” 

“She mentioned about making a baby, but I don’t know if she actually meant it or was it just a…ya know…” 

“A horny moment?” Jake said with a nod of his head. 

Jay just nodded, “Wasn’t going to say it like that but yeah, just an in the moment type thing,” Jay grabbed a chip from the basket, “And now that my sister is pregnant again—no thanks to you, Jake—it’s been even more on my mind.” 

The table fell silent, but then Jake sat forward, “Let me ask you this,” he twisted his beer glass, “Do you want to have a baby with her?” 

Jay didn’t hesitate in his answer, “Yes, I do,” Jake smiled even more, “I’d love to create another life with her,” Jay was the one smiling wide now, “I want a family with YN.” 

“My man!” Jake stood to his feet, holding his hand out for Jay to take it, and he did. Squeezing his friend’s hand tightly. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon also grasp Jay’s hands. The four of them were laughing loudly. 

“Look at us,” Jay said, reaching now for his glass, “We’re all grown up.” 

Heeseung titled his head, “Tell me about it. It felt just like yesterday we were all going into kindergarten together.” 

They all agreed and laughed more. 

“You know,” Jake chuckled, glancing up at the ceiling, “We are both fucked if our women have girls.” 

Jay rolled his eyes, “Don’t put that into motion man! I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I haven’t even gotten YN pregnant yet.” 

Sunghoon placed a hand on Jay’s shoulder, “With your  luck, it will be a girl.”

Jay removed Sunghoon’s hand, glaring at him and making a smart remark. 

Deep down Jay knew, there was no way he wasn’t going to have a girl. He could already feel that protectiveness for a baby girl that hasn’t even been created yet. 

—

Jay aggressively knocked on your door, bouncing back and forth on each leg from the anticipation of waiting. And waiting he didn’t want to do. 

He was about to pound his fist once again against your door but stopped midway at hearing the door unlock and the doorknob turning. Before you could even fully pull the door open for your boyfriend, he was busting in, hands immediately cupping your face and lips attaching to yours. 

“Jay,” you said between kisses, trying to reach for the door and close it. Without even leaving your lips, he kicked his foot back, closing the door and removing one of his hands only for a few seconds to lock it in place. 

You mumbled his name again, “You’ve been drinking,” you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back, his hands sliding from your face to your waist, his eyes filled with so much want and need for you, “Is everything okay?” 

Jay smiles, leaning back in and kissing you once again, pulling your body as close as possible to his, “Everything is perfect.” He rubbed his hard cock against your stomach, hands squeezing your ass tightly. 

You’ve seen Jay desperate like this before, but this?? This was a different kind of desperation. Not the normal I need you right now type. But a I want nothing more than to love on you right now type. You weren’t complaining, you were so in love with how he was handling you. Loving the way he was desperate to have you right now. It made your panties soaked just thinking about it. 

You smiled against his lips, deciding to tease him, “You missed me that much after spending the day with the boys, huh?” 

You don’t even know the half of it, my love. 

Jay kissed you with more desperation, his brows furrowing and hands sliding their way underneath your shirt, “Let's go to your bedroom, ya?” 

You nodded, barely being able to come up for air as he dragged you to your bedroom and connected his mouth to yours once again. 

“Babe,” you ask as he slides your shirt off your body, tossing it somewhere off in the room, “What’s on your mind?” you could tell something was present in that brain of his, it’s obvious by his body language. 

“Marry me,” he came outright and said it, sliding his shirt and jeans to the floor, “Marry me, baby, please,” he pulled your body back against his, kissing you with even more desperation than earlier. Hands roaming every inch of her skin and removing the rest of your clothing with the movements. 

Jay twisted you around and bent you over your bed, pressing his still-clothed cock against your bareness, pushing you forward until the both of you were on the bed, “YN,” he whispered, lips kissing down your neck and onto your shoulders, thumbs looping into his boxers and shoving them down and onto the floor, “Please, marry me.” You understood now why he was feeling so desperate. He was releasing emotions he kept pinned up. 

He licked his index, middle, and ring fingers, soaking them completely with his saliva and rubbing them against your cunt, mixing it with your juices before slowly pushing them inside knuckle deep. Jay groans at the way you clench around his fingers as he moves them in and out of you. His cock rubbing against your ass for the friction he needs. 

Your hands gripped your bedsheets, letting out soft moans while his fingers worked inside you, curling each time they hit your spot, “Seongie,” 

“Say you’ll marry me,” he stopped his movements and removed his fingers from your pussy, now rocking the tip of his cock up and down your folds, “Marry me, please. Become my wife,” pressing his tip to your entrance, he lets out a soft gasp, “Please say you’ll marry me.” 

You lift yourself up on your elbows to look back at him, seeing the pleading look he was giving you. The way he held your hips with such care and the love he held in his eyes. He fully meant his words. You smile at him, “I’ll marry you.” 

With those words, he pushed himself into you, his hips connecting to your ass, and held himself there, pushing as far as he possibly could into you to kiss your cervix completely, “You’ll marry me?” 

“Yes, Park Jongseong,” you lay your head down on the bed, rocking your hips against him in hopes he starts moving, “I’ll marry you, I’d want nothing more than to become your wife.” 

That’s all it took. That small amount of confirmation from you and he was fucking into you fast and hard, fingers gripping tightly to your hips as he shoved you down into him with each of his thrusts. He couldn’t believe it. You’re going to marry him. Going to be stuck with him forever. 

“Ughhh fuuucccckkkkk,” Jay moans, throwing his head back at the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last at this rate, not with the feeling of you agreeing to marry him that was filling up his heart and mind. Jay also wanted to get you pregnant. The thought was enough to make him want to cum right now, “Lemme knock you up,” was his next words, his hands leaving your hips and pulling your hair back into a makeshift ponytail, yanking you up and pressing your back against his chest. One hand held the front of your neck, not enough to choke you, but enough pressure was put to make your head spin. His other hand moved down to your stomach, pressing hard to feel his length move against your walls, “Oh, fuck please, let me knock you up.” 

You threw your head back against his shoulder, relishing in the pleasure he was making you feel. His lips attached to yours, tongue sliding past your lips and exploring your cavern. It made you feel dizzy, seeing stars every time you blinked or held your eyes closed for too long. This sex was different from the normal that you’d have with Jay. There was so much more feeling behind, more love and lust and want and need. You weren’t sure if it was because he asked you to be his wife and to impregnate you, or if every ounce of love Jay had was spilling over the top. You assumed it was both. 

“Let me get you pregnant,” he said again, biting at your lower lip and giving it a soft pull then releasing it. He rested his forehead on yours, brow furrowing and eyes squinting shut as he fucked into you, his orgasm fast approaching and he knew he’d burst at any moment. 

You were also close to your orgasm, mostly with how he pressed his hand tighter and tighter against your stomach and making you clench around his cock more. 

“Let’s make a baby, ya?” he whispers, thrusts getting sloppier but never losing their pace, “You said you wanted to.” 

His fingers now worked against your clit, your body shuddering and mouth falling open as you came around him, nodding your head as quickly as you could, “Please,” you breath, “Seongie, please get me pregnant.” 

And you meant it. You want to make a family with him. He’s your soulmate. Your forever. He was it. Nothing would be better than him or come above him besides the little specks of life the two of you create together. 

“Yessss,” he breathes out in a smile. Fucking his hips faster into your cunt, feeling himself about to burst, “Going to cum in this pussy all night and every single day and every chance I get until you’re pregnant. This pussy is mine to breed and holy fuck will I breed it good.” 

The final three thrusts were what he had left before shooting his seed deep in your cunt, groans leaving his lips as the white ropes filled you whole. 

You both took deep breaths in, smiling and laughing uncontrollably together. Right when you thought you could turn around and face him, he was shoving your face down into the pillows, “You thought we were done?” he teased, his cock still hard against your walls as he fucked his cum in you, “We are going all night until we can’t. I’m going to get you pregnant.” 

You smirked against the sheets, it was going to be a long and fun night. 

—

You pace around your best friend's bedroom, biting at your nails. 

“If you’re so worried about it, why don’t we go buy some tears?” Yunjin suggested, tilting her head to the side, “This is what the two of you wanted, right?” 

This was exactly what you and Jay wanted. But you still couldn’t help but wonder if you’re running late for your period or…if it’s not coming. 

It’s been about two months since you and Jay not only got engaged, but decided to try and get pregnant. Jay kept true to his word on cumming in you every chance he got, so it was purely a matter of time before it actually happened. And all you can do is pray it finally did. 

You looked over at your friend and nodded, “I’d like that. Can we go now?” 

She gave you a soft smile, “Of course, I’ll even drive.” 

You couldn’t keep your hands off your tummy the entire drive to and from the store to pick up the pregnancy tests as if holding your body would manifest a small spark of life. Once back at her apartment, she gave you the privacy to piss on the sticks in her bathroom and continued to let you pace around her apartment until it was time to check the tests. 

“You think it’s been enough time yet?” You asked nervously, twisting your fingers. 

“YN,” she sighs, “Let’s just go check them. I think you’re worried for nothing.” 

She could be right, but also she could be wrong. All you could really do was check and see. What’s the worst that could happen? 

She followed behind you to the bathroom, stopping at the sink where the tests sat. 

“You ready?” she asked you, taking your hand in hers. 

You took a deep breath and nodded, “Let’s get this over with.” 

You now find yourself sitting on the couch of the Parks/Sims/Lee residence, holding little Hwa in your arms as you both watch a baby show on the television. 

Jay’s sister sat in the recliner chair, her hand resting on the small baby bump that was starting to form. Heeseung was passed out on the couch beside you, his mouth slightly open and head resting against the back of the couch. Sunghoon just finished making a bowl of popcorn and was carefully slipping pieces of the buttery goodness into Heeseung’s mouth. 

“Wonder how much I can fit in there before he wakes up,” Sunghoon giggles, giving Hwa a wink as she giggles with him. 

“Hoon!” she giggles. He placed a finger to his lips. She giggled softer and mimicked her tiny finger to her lips. 

You rested your head on hers, pulling her tighter to your chest. 

The front door opened, causing Heeseung to wake up right when Sunghoon was popping the sixth popcorn into his mouth. 

“What the fuck?!” Heeseung snapped with a mournful, chewing the snack anyway, “What is wrong with you?” 

“You were drooling, Hee,” __ said, “It was quite funny.” 

“What was funny?” Jake smiled as he walked into the living room, Jay following right behind him. 

Jake stood at his wife’s side, pressing a kiss to her temple, “Hoon was stacking popcorn into Heeseung’s mouth while he was asleep.” 

Hwa reached her arms out for her father, so you stood up and handed her over to Jake, “How many did he get in there?” 

Sunghoon sat down on the couch beside Heeseung, a smirk wide on his face, “Six. Almost seven.” 

Everyone laughed except Heeseung, “You’re all going to hell!” he said with a roll of his eyes, “Stacking food in a poor man’s mouth while he sleeps? Ridiculous!” 

“Maybe he thought you were hungry?” Jay teased, then looked over at you and waved you over to him, he could see you deep in thought, “Hey, what’s wrong?” he whispered once you were at his side, “Want to talk about it?” 

You bit your lip and looked around at everyone in the room, then slowly nodded, “In the room?” 

Jay nodded, and more concern washed over him. He wanted until the door to his bedroom was closed before pulling you close to him, “Baby, talk to me. What’s up?” 

You fiddled with the collar of his shirt, “How was working with Jake today?”

He creased his brows, “It was fine, a major project is coming up that I am helping him with. But that’s not important right now, don’t beat around the bush, just tell me what’s wrong.” 

You pulled away from him, “My period is late.” 

Jay was quick to pull you back, “It is?” You could see the sparkle of hope in his eyes, “Does that mean…?” 

You pulled away from him again and walked to his bed where your bags for the night sat, digging through it and pulling out a small rectangle green box, turning back around, and handing it to him. 

He looked at you, trying to read your eyes. He had to admit, he was terrified. Terrified of what this meant and what was in this box. But nevertheless, his eyes were still filled with hope. With shaky hands, he pulled off the lid, seeing a pregnancy test sitting on top of some white gift paper. 

He let out a shaky breath, looking up at you, “You’re pregnant?” 

You smile wide, nodding your head, “Yes,” he pulled you into his arms, rocking the two of you back and forth, “We’re going to be parents,” you whispered in his ear, planting kisses to the side of his face. 

“I’m going to be a dad,” he could feel the tears swelling in his eyes, “You’re going to be a mom. Oh my god we did it, baby, we did it.” 

You clung onto him tighter, “We did. We finally did.”

After two long months of trying, the thing you and Jay wanted the most finally happened. The two of you were starting a family. Growing the one you already had even bigger. 

“Oh my god,” He pulled back a fit, cupping your face, “Hwa will have her first cousin!” 

You nodded, “She will, she’ll be the best big cousin!” 

Jay pulled you back to him, his smile not fading. All he could do was hold you. No amount of words or kisses to your face and lips was enough to state just how happy he was at this moment. He was going to be a father and you a mother. You’ll be his wife. And the two of you would officially be a family. 

What more could he ask for?

— perm tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle

@kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia

@wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @skzenhalove

@fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun

@cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs

@seunghancore @enha-cafe @ohdeerhee @sunpov @zeeloveshee

@hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @abysofsteel @kookify

— taglist: @hearts4itoshi @enhaz1 @luvkpopp @lilyuwon

@kirinaa08 @1309zip @auniverseline @hwabang @nyxtwixx

@hooniebaekgu @aileeeeeeeeeeeee

[steddieas-shegoes]

Starving artist Steve Harrington just trying to pick up any job that’ll pay the bills so he can keep making art picking up a bartending gig at some album release event in LA because it pays a flat $500 for 4 hours of his time plus tips

The album ends up being a much-anticipated follow up to an extremely successful debut album for Corroded Coffin, a metal band that somehow made a huge dent across multiple genres with their Spotify Lounge cover session

The lead guitarist and singer, Eddie Munson, is known for being a charmer, but Steve doesn’t fall for it and that just makes Eddie work harder to impress him

Cut to Steve leaving well after the party wraps up, nearly $1000 richer (thank you drunk rich people who forgot they’d already tipped him $20) and running right into Eddie smoking behind the venue

He’s not supposed to smoke, messes with his voice, so he offers Steve his last cigarette and asks him how the night went. Steve’s honest and says he got enough money to pay off his rent for the month and have some leftover for groceries so he’s pretty happy

Eddie asks if bartending is what he always does and Steve unloads on him about his art, how he always knew it would lead to living thin, but that he didn’t mind if it meant he still got to create things that let people see the world differently

Eddie won’t admit it for at least four more months, but he fell in love with Steve that night, listening to the way he described his process and watching as his eyes lit up as he told him about a new thing he wanted to try with oils and clay pinch pots as soon as he had the money for studio time and materials

Eddie won’t admit it for another six months, but he “forgot” the nearly $5000 in cash in the jacket he let Steve borrow in hopes that his bills would be taken care of long enough for him to get whatever studio time he wanted

And Steve wouldn’t admit it for almost a year, but he knew all along that Eddie’s charm worked on him from the first time he ordered a fruity drink at the bar and called him Stevie

[starryjake]

ever since I saw jake from the most recent spotify interview I have not been ok the only thoughts are nerdy horny jake who can't get enough of fucking you like his brain goes mush and he can't even speak he's just whining and moaning and a drooling mess and imagine just pulling his hair which makes him go crazy like holy shit he's so majestic

PLEASEEEEEE NERDY HORNY JAKE ONE CHANCE.

just so desperate to make himself and you feel good :( stamina is endless bc he just wants to fuck you until he goes numb. is addicted to the feeling of your perfect warm walls wrapped around him and the way you pretty body moves when he’s fucking you hard into your mattress.

tries with every fiber of his BEING to make you squirt. literally just wants to be drenched in your arousal and will do whatever it takes to get it. includes eating you out for hours and hours until you’ve BOTH cum countless of times.

he literally loses himself and becomes such a desperate drooling mess :( he can’t take his hands off you and just wants to fuck you all night long. he’s so lucky to have you because you just take it, watching your boyfriend completely fall apart as he cums over and over.

[academicdisasterfic]

h/d microfic: the weekend by sza

The first in a little Spotify wrapped x Drarry microfic venture I’m doing this December; hence my 55th most played song this year and first attempt at infidelity. Kind of loved it tbh.

Warning: infidelity

Draco’s feral by the time his doorbell rings.

‘Sorry,’ Harry says. He’s still in his Ministry robes, and he smells like the Leaky.

‘Get in, then,’ Draco says coolly, although not coolly enough, because Harry smirks and pulls Draco in by the front of his cashmere jumper, straining the wool, and slamming him against the wall.

‘Thought about this all week,’ Harry whispers.

It’s the usual: they fuck once in the living room, then go to the bed, sweaty bodies intertwined on the silk sheets, kissing lazy and luxurious. Harry looks down at where Draco came over his stomach and swears, drags his fingers through it and offers it to Draco.

‘Look at your mess,’ he says, raising an eyebrow.

Draco keeps eye contact, swallows down three of Harry’s thick, calloused fingers, and sucks off his wedding band. He spits it across the room, aware that Harry is suddenly and alarmingly hard again.

‘I like mess, Potter.’

[half-an-hour-hence]

More Romy headcanons because the brainworms persist:

- Most Sundays, Remy wakes up early to make Rogue breakfast in bed.

- They enjoy slow dancing in the mansion’s living room when the others have gone to sleep. They’ll close all the doors and put on some music, making sure the volume is low so they don’t disturb everyone. It always involves a lot of banter and a lot of laughter. On more than one occasion they’ve stayed up past sunrise, still dancing, still talking, still laughing.

- Remy does card tricks to entertain Rogue when she’s stressed. Sometimes he messes up or drops a card on purpose just to see her smile.

- When they’re finally able to touch without Rogue’s powers hurting Remy, Rogue always falls asleep with her head on his chest, their hands locked together. They never wake up in the same way, though; they both move a lot in their sleep.

- They both have a photo of each other as their lock screen on their phones.

- If Remy’s going to be back from a mission later than expected, Rogue’ll stay up and sit by one of the windows downstairs, wrapped up in one of his trenchcoats with a hot drink to keep her awake. He’s told her many times she doesn’t have to do this, but her answer is always that she’s missed him a lot, and he finds he really can’t argue with that sentiment.

- Remy helps Rogue paint her nails, and then lets her paint his.

- Rogue buys Remy a unique pack of cards every year for his birthday. He ends up using all of them during training or on mission - all except the queen of hearts, which he keeps to remind him of her.

- When Rogue does something that surprises him or he wants to tell her something and can’t quite find the right words, Remy’ll speak softly in French to convey his thoughts. Rogue can’t understand, but she finds it endearing nonetheless.

- They both have playlists on Spotify with each other’s favourite songs on.

[pradabambie]

part 2 to this ask - rafexreader fight.

i'm finally back!! yay

let me know if you like this and remember request are always open <3 help your girl out in the creativity department hehe

it's been two weeks since you last saw or talked to rafe, and he was losing it.  

normally, you two were practically inseparable, spending every moment together, a routine rafe had grown accustomed to. 

his attempts to reach you were relentless.  

he spammed your phone with calls and texts, even emails. he not only contacted you, but all your friends. he even showed up at your house a couple times, your parents insisting on the instructions you gave them: you didn't want to see him. 

rafe even visited places you frequented, hoping for an encounter. today, luck was on his side. he spotted you sorting through the apples in your little pink gym shorts, and tapped your shoulder, careful not to startle you as you focused on the music coming out of your headphones. 

you looked up at him, rolled your eyes and pressed pause on the spotify app "leave me alone, rafe" you asserted. 

but as then you looked into his eyes, worn and red, dark bags under them. his hair was messy, and you could tell he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. his plea cut through the air. 

"please, i'm beggin you. let me buy you a coffee or something. i need to talk to you. i need you. i miss you." his words were interrupted by a shaky sigh that left your lips. 

"okay," you said, staring at him expressionlessly. 

"what?" 

"yes, okay, rafe. pick me up at six, and i'll have one cup of coffee with you. that's it." 

a sudden grin lit up his face. "yes! yes, of course. i'll pick you up—" 

"i have to go. see you later," you cut him off, not allowing him to finish. 

the hours leading up to the meeting felt like an eternity for rafe. this coffee date represented his chance to mend things. 

at exactly six, rafe, dressed in a shirt he remembered you liked, stood outside your door. you noticed his effort—neatly combed hair, a hint of cologne. 

you greeted him with a nod, signaling readiness to get it over with. rafe, attempting to conceal his nerves, led you to his car. 

the drive to the cafe was filled with awkward silences. once there, you both ordered drinks, enveloped in the familiar aroma of coffee. rafe took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. 

"i don't even know where to start," he admitted, eyes focused on his coffee cup. 

you remained silent, waiting for him to continue. rafe took a moment to choose his words carefully, realizing the significance of what he was about to say. 

"look, i messed up, okay? i took you for granted, i realize that. i miss us, and i can't stand being without you," he confessed, his gaze pleading for understanding. 

you listened quietly, sipping your coffee, contemplating whether his words carried genuine remorse or were just another attempt to manipulate your feelings. 

"i've been reflecting on everything, and i want to change. i want to be the person you deserve. please, give me another chance." 

your response was measured. "i want to believe you, rafe, i really do. but how do i know this isn't another one of your little games?" 

he pulled a red velvet box from his pocket, revealing a silver ring with your birthstone right in the center. "i got this for you. i know this doesn’t fix things, but it's a start. i remember you talking about a promise ring or something like that." 

your eyes lit up looking at the ring, you had to admit rafe's good taste remained intact. 

 “it's gorgeous, rafe, but you can't buy me with this, okay?" 

"i know. it's just a little visual aid. i want you for life. i promise to show you i'm committed to this, to you." 

you paused, studying his words. the silence heightened rafe's anxiety. 

"let's just say you're on probation," you finally said. "but i swear, rafe, mess up once, and—" 

before you could finish, strong arms wrapped around you, lifting you off your seat, showering you with kisses. "yes, baby, anything you say," rafe declared, filled with newfound hope. 

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 19

Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: It's time. Word Count: 9.6k Warnings: angst; Miguel crying; mention of injuries; mention of death; mention of someone sacrificing their life; use of sedatives; Nonviolent Communication? More like Nonviolent [lack of] Communication Music (Spotify playlist): "Present" - Lloyd Vaan "Fade Into You" - Vitamin String Quartet "That Home" - The Cinematic Orchestra Masterlist A/N: Another update so soon? It's a Christmas miracle in October!

Part 19

Miguel tenderly gazes at you from his hammock, his pinky finger wrapped around yours. He feels a gentle breeze rustling his hair, a contrast to the warmth emitted from your hand near his. He can hear music and conversation taking place from afar, but none of that matters.

Miguel is so at peace right now, he even forgets that next week you’ll likely be moving out of the penthouse.

He simply focuses on the now, on this moment of tranquility with you.

Gazing at you, Miguel can’t help but think about how he’ll remember this weekend forever, even when he’s seventy. He’ll gaze at the moon and be reminded of tonight, how you’re sharing a thermos with freshly brewed coffee and holding each other’s pinky fingers under the moonlight. He’ll recall your whispered question about the children you were meant to have, but didn’t, and the way his answer seemed to satisfied your thoughts. He’ll remember the way you subtly lowered your arm, trying to play it off as nothing, and how he knew what you hoped, maybe even longed for: his touch.

His crimson eyes shining like rubies in the night gaze up at you one moment and the next they’re closed.

His eyes move rapidly under his eyelids, confused.

He opens them, but his vision is a blur. He’s suddenly overwhelmed with an ache all over his body, as if he hasn’t moved in days. Miguel repeatedly blinks, his mind trying to figure out what’s going on. He succeeds in clearing his vision, but the confusion remains.

Miguel was at the beach with you just now, hanging on a hammock below yours and holding your pinky finger, but now he’s here.

At an infirmary room.

Alone.

Miguel feels frozen for a second before he looks down at himself, finding his body clad in a hospital gown and laying on the bed. His confusion grows tenfold. Dread spreads throughout Miguel’s chest while he searches the empty and cold room he was in last year.

Why is he here? He was just on the hammock, his pinky finger wrapped around yours.

Where are you?

That thought has Miguel instantly sitting up despite the pain shooting through his body. His eyes search for you, for any sign of you in this room. He looks at the floor, the tables, and the uncomfortable chair you slept on last year pressed to the wall a few feet away. It’s empty, no sign of a pillow or blanket on it. He looks around once more, wondering where your duffel bag is at. It should be here somewhere, right?

Yet, Miguel finds nothing. No trace of you.

Where are you?

Where did you go?

The dread in his chest intensifies with every second, his mind a mess with thoughts. His heart rate shoots up, triggering an alarm that has the infirmary staff rushing through the door. In seconds, a doctor and nurses are at his side, trying to assess what’s wrong. They find the usual distant and stoic boss under distress.

“Why am I here? How did I get here? I was somewhere else,” Miguel says while they check the monitors, his voice filled with stress. “I was at the beach just now — with Dulzura. Where’s Dulzura at? Y/N?” he asks. “Where is she?”

“Sir, you need to calm down. Everything is okay,” the doctor replies in a calmly manner that only seems to frustrate Miguel even more.

“Where is she? Why isn’t she here?” Miguel continues to ask.

“We’re going to call Mrs. Jess and Mr. Peter B., alright?” the doctor replies, giving a subtle nod to a nurse on the other side of the bed.

“I’m not asking for either Jess or Peter. I’m asking you for Y/N. Just tell me where she is!” Miguel says, his voice rising out of frustration. All he wishes to know is that you’re here somewhere, somewhere close to him so the dread in his heart can cease.

Yet, the staff refuses to answer his questions and instead, fill his bloodstream with a drug.

“¿Dónde está? [Where is she?]” Miguel says softly, the sedative doing its job. “I was at the beach. I was with her,” he adds. “Dulzura?” he whispers, eyes fluttering. “Por favor, Dulzura… [Please]” he continues, his vision becoming blurry once more. “Stay…”

♡

When Miguel wakes up again, he detects voices in the room. For a few seconds, they sound far, far away.

He groans when he begins to feel the body ache all over again, still there. “Dulzura,” he says, voice hoarse.

“Miguel - it’s alright. We’re here,” a voice says.

“You’re going to be okay, pal,” another one adds.

“Where’s Dulzura?” Miguel manages to say, his eyes struggling to open. “Where is she?”

“Who’s Dulzura?” the second voice asks.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” the first voice says. “He never called Gabriella that.”

“Then, who… is he calling for?” the second voice questions.

“God knows what’s going on in his mind right now,” the first voice replies. “Look, his eyes are fluttering. Miguel? Can you hear us?”

At last, Miguel opens his eyes, groaning. He looks around, his vision blurry for a few seconds before they focus on the faces near him.

Jess and Peter.

“What - what happened?” Miguel asks, searching for you once more. He tries to spot your favorite blanket, the one you had over your legs just yesterday while reading a book in front of the fireplace at the bungalow, but he can’t find it. Your sweatshirt is nowhere in sight, too. There’s not even a hint of your scent in the air, as if you haven’t been here in days.

“You’ve been out for a few days, pal,” Peter says gently, eyebrows furrowed. “You took a lot during the fight trying to help Miles save his dad. By the way, he’s safe. They both are. And, we defeated the Spot, too.”

“Wh-what?” Miguel whispers, his mouth feeling dry. This makes no sense.

Jess sighs, giving Peter a look before turning to face him again. “We’ll explain everything, okay? But you need to remain calm.” With that, Jess tells Miguel everything. Peter listens, adding a few details here and there when necessary.

Miguel listens, his heart sinking and sinking with every word. His chest is filled with such a heaviness, he feels that if he was standing, he’d surely drop to the ground due to the weight.

How could it be? None of what Jess and Peter are saying makes sense, but according to them, Miguel has been at the infirmary for days after Miles and him, along with half of the Spider Society, worked together to save Mr. Morales and stop the Spot from unleashing chaos on the multiverse.

Miguel didn’t go unscathed, however. He was seriously hurt during the encounter, putting his life at risk for the sake of the multiverse and Mr. Morales’s life.

He thought it was only fair — even just — after being incorrect about the canon event theory. So, Miguel went into the fight ready to sacrifice his life. He had nothing else to give, nothing else to lose.

He was ready to lose his life.

And he almost did.

Apparently, Miguel did in fact die for a few minutes, but the infirmary team resuscitated him. Due to the shock and trauma his body received during the fight, it’s taken several days for Miguel to wake up.

“We’re glad to have you back, pal,” Peter says, donning that pink robe he’s been wearing since Mayday was born, but Miguel can’t force himself to care about anything right now.

He doesn’t care about what everyone has been doing around HQ over the last few days when Jess fills him in. He doesn’t care that everything is running smoothly. He doesn’t care about anything at all.

Both Jess and Peter watch him, giving each other subtle looks, though they’re sure Miguel wouldn’t even notice them if they were obvious ones to begin with. Miguel is distant, more than ever. His body may be here in front of them, but his mind is elsewhere. Far, far, far away.

They have no idea of the immense longing and pain the leader is under while he stares at the windows with the same sentences echoing in his mind over and over again.

It was all a dream.

You were just a dream.

You don’t exist.

Miguel was hurt badly, so much to the point he died for a few minutes, but that doesn’t affect his intelligence to figure it out. He dreamed of a life after the events with the Spot — a total of two years with you at his side.

He tries to swallow the knot in his throat while Jess and Peter converse, not knowing what they’re talking about. He tries to focus on the conversation, tries to pretend to be okay, but there’s a horrible, heavy feeling that grows and grows in his chest with every second, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

He puts on a facade.

He’s okay.

He’s okay.

He’s okay.

Miguel repeats the sentence, trying to make himself believe the biggest lie he’s ever told himself.

He keeps himself at bay, but he’s like a weak dam that finally crumbles when Jess and Peter leave.

It’s only in his solitude, in this horrible loneliness, within his cold and empty infirmary room, that Miguel’s chest heaves dramatically. His breathing speeds up, his chest heavy like lead.

His beautiful crimson eyes swell with tears, his vision becoming blurry once again. The knot in his throat never left, just temporarily paused. He feels it grow in this horrible and cold loneliness. It hurts. The knot in his throat hurts so much, giving him a burning and sharp barbed wire-like feeling. The thought that actual barbed wire pressed to his skin would hurt less crosses his mind before the devastating reality weighs down on him.

Miguel presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, sobbing his gentle heart out.

It has to be a nightmare. It has to be.

His lips tremble before a cry escapes from within.

How was he just there with you? Holding your pinky finger in his, in perfect solitude on the beach?

Miguel can almost taste the coffee you made just to enjoy on the hammocks. He cries at that, at how much you love coffee and the way your eyes seem to twinkle when he says he’ll make café de olla [coffee pot] just for you.

“God — “ Miguel says through his sobbing, his face tear-stained. “Please, please wake me up. I’ll do anything. Just wake me up from this dream — I beg you.”

But Miguel doesn’t wake up.

This is his life and you’re not here.

There’s no you.

You don’t exist.

Miguel cries and cries, until those crimson eyes can’t cry anymore.

He spends the rest of the day mourning and longing for you, the bitter truth crashing over him like rogue waves. He’s longing for someone he’s never met, someone he’s not sure exists, not even out there in the multiverse.

♡

Despite doctor’s orders, Miguel is back in the lab the next day. He stands on his platform, crimson eyes scanning over his screens. His platform is elevated all the way to the ceiling, where Miguel wishes to be alone and undisturbed. He wants to forget, but he cannot.

The lab’s counters are unorganized, parts and tools scattered about.

No one will volunteer to help organize them every week, Miguel knows that now. There’s no quiet conversation between you and Lyla, who asks questions about your comfort food or plans for the weekend.

There’s no hidden Mexican candy in the cabinets for you to eat. There’s no hidden scarf in his drawers with your scent interwoven within its fibers.

Miguel freezes.

Your scent.

Your soft breathing when you sleep.

Your voice.

He slumps over his platform at the realization, wincing at his wounds from the movement. He can smell it, somehow, even now. There’s no trace of it anywhere, but he can remember it and God, he holds on to it, desperately, like a man half dead clinging to life.

Miguel hears your soft breathing and voice then, plays it his head. He prays to God and every saint he knows he never forgets either sounds.

“Mierda [shit],” Miguel murmurs, a slight tremor in his voice. “¿Donde estás? [where are you?]” He wonders, his chest tightening the same way it does every time he thinks of Gabriella and his brother, Gabriel.

And he knows… He is mourning you just the same despite being made up.

“Dulzura,” Miguel whispers, eyes closed as he remains slumped over his platform. Images of you flash in his mind like a movie.

The time he found you sick in your apartment, passed out and in pain. He made pasta for you and cleaned up your space a bit, even fixed the cabinets of your kitchen.

The night of Día de los Muertos [Day of the Dead] while you looked at his ofrenda [altar], the lit candles which gave your face a gentle glow.

Miguel recalls the times you brought him lunch and coffee cups too small to actually do much to his body, but him accepting them nonetheless after months of your offerings.

He remembers the Christmas Eve when you showed up with food, looking nervous because you were in his penthouse for the first time. He remembers your look of surprise seeing him dressed in normal clothes for once.

All these images flash in his mind, all the way to lunches on rooftops and sleeping on his living room floor to putting together that puzzle of two butterflies in a meadow during the beach trip.

“Miguel?” Lyla speaks suddenly. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“No,” Miguel replies, straightening up. His voice is weak with a hint of harshness as an attempt to hide his true feelings. “I’m fine.”

He repeats that to himself.

He’s fine.

He’s fine.

He’s fine.

He pushes through the first half of the day, his mind and heart a mess.

Even as the days go by and turn into weeks since the situation with Miles, Miguel feels lost.

One morning after showering at the penthouse, he stands in the halfway to the bedrooms. He knows better than to, but he pushes the door open to Gabriel’s old room. Of course, it’s the same as it’s always been since his brother’s death.

Somewhere in his long and intricate dream, you stayed here in this room after a fire on your building. You made it yours with a lot of hesitance, your idea being that you didn’t want to be a ‘burden’ to him.

Miguel recalls telling you to stop thinking that. You could never be a burden to him.

But now you are, only because he must carry on living with the mere imagination of your existence in his life.

♡

Miguel’s stomach grumbles while he works. He’s tempted to ignore the hunger and keep working to avoid his thoughts, but then he remembers that you would’ve disapproved of that behavior. An image of you frowning in disapproval flashes in his mind. Even though it’s just an image and he now knows he somehow made you up, he still can’t find it in himself to be the reason for a frown on your face, real or not real.

He engages the platform to lower it, deciding to go to the cafeteria. He stares at the ground, arms at his sides, a feeling of defeat filling him.

In that moment, Miguel wishes he would’ve never woken up.

Miguel sighs heavily in desperation and sorrow. He covers his face with both hands. He would’ve blissfully stayed in that dream, where things were great with his best friend. He swallows the knot in his throat now, the feeling all too familiar, for Miguel has cried every day since he woke up.

Miguel clears his throat and wipes the beginning of his tears away before dragging himself out of the lab, even though all he wants to do is stay in that dark and empty space — alone. He doesn’t want to look at the spider members, who’ll probably continue to stare hoping for something from him after everything that happened with Miles.

His mind hasn’t even wrapped itself around that situation and how everything he’s worked for has turned out to be wrong. Then, there’s the loss of Gabby, his sweet little Gabriella.

And of course, there’s the loss of someone he’s never met.

You.

He should’ve never woken up.

Miguel walks out into a hallway, a few spider members greeting his sight. He avoids their eyes, unable to meet their gazes. His steps feel heavy as he walks down one of the many hallways of their base, memories of him and you walking together flashing through his mind.

You’re everywhere.

And yet, you’re not.

Miguel almost turns around and heads back to the lab, even if it means not eating. How is he going to manage to walk past the conference rooms where you both spent time together each week, talking over coffee before meetings started? He doesn’t want to gaze inside because he knows only the ghost of you on your unassigned assigned chair next to his will greet him back.

He makes it past them, but only because he keeps his gaze down.

Somewhere, he hears a door open and a new set of footsteps join him. He doesn’t have it in himself to look up, even though the footsteps sound familiar in the midst of his internal turmoil. He hears a gizmo go off, probably the other person’s. He looks up, only by instinct, and freezes as his eyes capture the smallest glimpse of someone’s suit as they turn a corner.

It’s the smallest, shortest glimpse, but it’s there.

The colors of your suit.

His breath gets caught in his throat and before Miguel knows it, he’s walking faster. He turns and enters another hallway, missing the individual once again as they turn the corner. However, this time, his gaze is much more focused, so he’s able to spot not only the colors, but also part of the design of the suit for a fragment of a second, causing his heart to race.

His steps are determined as he continues to walk, following the person’s tracks. He can’t help but feel like he’s chasing his lifeline, feeling more alive than he has in weeks.

He must be going crazy, Miguel thinks.

It’s foolish and yet, Miguel follows.

He enters the cafeteria, met with a buzz from spider members having lunch. He looks around as they walk in front of him, blocking his way. He wishes he could silence them for a second as his gaze searches for you in the midst of the crowd. He spots the colors of your suit again, straight ahead, and follows, ready to push anyone if he must.

Miguel sighs in frustration as he pushes past a group, keeping his eyes in the same spot as to not miss the individual.

“Miguel-” someone says.

“Not now,” he replies as he keeps walking, not even sparing a glance.

At last, there’s the individual. Their back is to him but there’s your suit. Identical.

“No puede ser [it can’t be],” Miguel breathes out as he keeps walking, not sure what he’s even doing. All he knows is that there you are, or at least it seems so and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t talk to you, his best friend.

His steps slow down as Jess steps into view, facing him. She says something to you just as her eyes find Miguel. He watches as she gives him a nod and says something else to you, or at least he thinks it’s you.

With his heart racing, Miguel keeps approaching.

“Miguel,” Jess says, acknowledging him verbally. “I’m glad to see you. I was about to go and look for you to introduce someone to you — someone I think would be a great asset.”

He doesn’t say anything as he comes to a halt, just five feet away from you, your back to him still. As if in slow motion, he watches you turn around and there.

Your face meets Miguel’s eyes, your reflection finding a home in them.

There you are.

You are real.

You exist.

Miguel stares at you, his heart racing. He feels his breathing pick up but this time out of gratitude, happiness, and so much more. You’re here. You’re real.

You look at him with those eyes he knows so well, but there’s no recognition in them. You don’t recognize him at all.

“This is Y/N,” Jess starts.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you say with a nod, not even offering your hand. “I’d shake your hand, but Jess has told me you…” you trail off.

“I’ve informed her,” Jess says, referring to no physical touch.

Miguel stares at you, his heart in pain. You’ve called him ‘sir’ instead of by his name or the nickname you gave him, Migs.

He lifts a hand, his pinky finger out, hoping you know.

You blink at the sight, an expression of confusion on your face when you see the gesture. You glance at Jess, hoping for an explanation.

Miguel gulps. “You don’t - You don’t remember… You don’t know me?”

“Sir…” you say gently, confused.

“Dulzura,” Miguel says, looking at you. “You really don’t remember me?”

“Miguel — what are you doing?” Jess asks, confused and alarmed.

“You don’t remember when I found you sick at your apartment?” he asks. “All the times I made you café de olla? You don’t remember the night we said we had each other. Always?”

“I don’t know what - Jess what’s going on?” you ask, turning to her.

“Dulzura, please,” Miguel says. “I’m begging you. I can’t bear this anymore,” he continues, feeling like he could die right now.

“Miguel, you need to calm down, okay? Please, get something to eat and rest. You’ve been working too much,” Jess says. “You’re scaring the recruit.”

“She’s not just a recruit. This is Dulzura,” Miguel says, frustrated. “She’s my best friend,” he adds, hoping you will remember, but no matter what he says, neither you nor Jess believe him.

“Dulzura, please. Please tell me you remember,” Miguel whispers, tears swelling in his eyes. “I’ve missed you so much. I’ve thought of you every day since I woke up, please. It’s been weeks since I woke up in that empty infirmary room, searching for you. We went to the beach because you invited me, remember? We bought groceries the day before, went shopping together. We made red chilaquiles [Mexican dish] that first morning we spent there and some of our friends showed up. We went for walks and I gave you a seashell. Don’t you remember?” Miguel asks in distress, noticing the lack of recognition on your face. “We put together a puzzle and talked about parenthood. You made me realize I’m open to the idea of one day experiencing that and romantic love, even if I’ve accepted I might not get to. Please, Dulzura! Please, please, please! How do you not remember? Dulzura, Dulzura, Dulzura…” Miguel repeats, brokenhearted and crying.

Miguel sits up in bed.

He gasps for air, chest heaving in the night. There’s tears streaming down his face and he feels sweaty as he looks around.

“Dulzura,” Miguel whispers, and at the thought of you, the bed covers go flying. He's on his feet in a second, walking barefoot towards the hallway.

Please, please, please… Miguel thinks as he walks past the door frame. He's barely taken three steps when he runs into something.

Someone.

“Miguel?” your sleepy voice breaks the silence of the penthouse, gently killing that dread in Miguel's chest and replacing it with a calmness — alleviating his soul.

“Dulzura,” Miguel breathes out, before turning the light on in the hallway. He needs to make sure you're really here, that you’re not a figment of his imagination. Relief washes over him when the sight of you in your pajamas, looking sleepily at him, greets him. He instinctively steps closer.

“Migs?” you ask softly. “What's wrong? I heard you calling for me. Are you alright?” You search his body and face for signs of injury, but find none.

Miguel raises his hands, that relief taking over along with the need to touch you, to feel your body to fully confirm you’re in the flesh. He moves them closer until they're near your face, in a cupping form. His hands tremble.

“Migs?” you whisper, noticing his trembling hands, a sight that breaks your heart, and their proximity to your face along with how they seem to be ready to cup your cheeks. “Did you have a nightmare?” you ask gently.

Miguel nods. “One of the worst nightmares of my life,” he answers, his hands growing closer.

You watch intently, sleep fading away quickly due to Miguel’s trembling hands and the fact that he seems to be seeking physical contact.

And Miguel would’ve, if only Lyla hadn’t popped up out of nowhere.

“What’s going on?” she asks, looking around. “Oh, you’re awake?”

Miguel’s hands drop to his sides, realizing what he was going to do.

“I - what?” you ask, confused by the entire moment. Miguel was just about to cup your face and now you’re left here in the hallway with Lyla floating between you.

“What’s wrong, Lyla?” Miguel asks quietly.

“Your gizmo detected you talking while the recording you always play at night was active. It’s past three in the morning. It made no sense for you to be talking at this hour if you have the recording playing, so I figured you were having a nightmare, but I see you’re actually awake and talking with Y/N, so,” Lyla explains.

“It’s alright,” Miguel forces himself to say. “Everything is okay.”

Looking between Miguel and you, as if trying to make sure it’s true, Lyla nods. “Alright, have a good night, you two!” With that, Lyla disappears just as fast she appeared.

You blink softly and turn to Miguel, noticing a bit of perspiration and his tear-stained face. He still looks somewhat startled from his nightmare.

“Come with me?” you ask softly.

Miguel nods, already having an idea of where you’re both going.

A few minutes later, he’s sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen with you at his side. There’s a pot with water and a few cinnamon sticks on the stove and two mugs on the counter ready to be filled with sweet canelita [cinnamon tea].

You stay quiet to give Miguel a few minutes to gather himself, some time to calm down. You glance at his hands, noticing they’re thankfully no longer trembling, which puts you at ease. Earlier, you were still sleepy and startled by everything, but the sight of his shaking hands broke your heart. You wonder if he dreamed about Gabby again, about losing her.

You sigh quietly, deciding not to ask right now and continue to give Miguel a moment, at least until the canelita is ready.

A few minutes later, you silently pour the liquid into both mugs and add a bit of sugar, before returning to the counter with them. You place one in front of Miguel and offer him a smile, hoping to comfort him.

“Thank you,” Miguel says softly, tired. He picks up the mug and blows on it gently, accepting the kind and warm gesture.

You gently stir yours with a spoon, looking at him. “Always…” you reply softly, lifting your mug to your lips now and also blowing on it to cool it off a bit. After some seconds of debating internally, you decide to speak. “Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

Miguel closes his eyes, feeling better now that he’s out of that horrible dream. His breathing has gone back to normal and his mind is clearer. He nods. “Yes…” he simply responds before Miguel tells you everything about his nightmare.

Despite looking better, his voice falters at some points, especially when he reaches the part where he saw you at the end but you didn’t recognize him.

“And then, I woke up,” Miguel says. “I was - I was - I had to make sure you are here… That’s why I was going to your room.”

You nod, your heart aching for Miguel. You can imagine what he felt — feels — when you place yourself in his shoes. You’d be hyperventilating if you had dreamed of that.

“I’m sorry you dreamed that,” you say softly, wondering what triggered it to begin with. “It was just a dream though,” you add, hoping to reassure him. “I’m here.”

Miguel nods, looking over at you. “I know, you’re here. Safe.” Miguel is eternally grateful for that.

“And that dream isn’t realistic because I would remember you,” you say, trying to lighten up the mood. “There’s no way I would forget about my best friend.”

Miguel slowly smiles for the first time since waking up. “You would still remember me?”

“Always. How could I forget you?” you reply. “You’re…” you smile and look away for a few seconds. “You’re one of the most important people in my life. My brain, maybe because of some unfortunate injury might for a short period of time, but… My heart will always know you, always remember you.”

Miguel’s smile widens, his heart filled with tenderness. He forgets all about his nightmare with your words for now, comforted. “My heart will always know you, too, Dulzura. In every universe.”

You both keep smiling before turning your attention to the drink, both feeling more at peace right now. The two of you take notice of the time. Like Lyla said earlier, it’s past three in the morning, almost four at this point.

Miguel and you silently realize something. You’ve been in bed for hours at this point, since ten to be exact, but only an hour ago you both managed to get some sleep. Nerves, disappointment, dread, and God knows what other emotions has kept the two of you up because of what awaits in a few hours.

Your return to your apartment.

After arriving back to Nueva York from the beach trip, Miguel and you finally talked about you moving out. You realized you needed to address it, or at least you thought you had to, so you did.

After discussing with Miguel that you’re moving back, which he accepted and understood, knowing it’s time, you both went to the apartment to clean it. He’s helped you deep clean the space and move some things around, trying to be a supportive friend. The only space left to clean is your living room and of course, you’ll have to unpack the belongings that are now sitting in Miguel’s living room, ready to be transported in a few hours back to your universe.

Despite your silent and respective realizations at the same time and the fact that you’ve only managed to sleep for an hour, if even that, neither of you mention anything about it. Neither of you share that you’re unhappy with the situation.

Miguel doesn’t want you to leave, to move back to your apartment, but he knows he can’t ask you not to. He knows how much the apartment means to you because of Peter and all the memories it holds. It’s a special place, Miguel knows that, so he won’t, even if he wishes he could.

Even if the words are threatening to spill at any moment from his mouth.

Next to him, you refuse to say what’s on your mind, too. You don’t want to move out, even if you love your apartment so much. You do, you really do.

You love your building.

You love your little apartment, its coziness and warmth.

But most of all, you love the memories made within those walls. The moments you shared with your family, back when your parents were alive along with Aunt May and of course, Peter.

Just days ago, you stood outside it on the street and saw phantom memories play in your mind, like a film. You saw Peter and yourself walking side by side chatting, grocery bags in his hands, and remembered how he always tried to hold most of them despite your superhuman strength. You watched the two of you enter the building, still talking. Up above, you saw the light from the living room turn on before images of Peter sprawled on the old couch, which is still stored in Miguel’s building, with you on top of him came to mind.

Within a few seconds, you found yourself physically inside your empty apartment. You stood in the living room, looking at everything you left behind. Miguel offered many times to help you take everything to his universe for the time being, but you declined each time. The things that truly matter are here at his universe right now, everything else you can do without.

You took a turn around the room, realizing.

You stayed here, despite the years, even when everyone moved on. Your former friends kept their relationships, or found new partners. Some of them even have children of their own. They moved on and you stayed here, in this lovely apartment building you happened to come across one day. It was pure coincidence and later that week, Peter and you came to check it out. The apartment had opened up and rent was good, perfect for two people fresh out of college. Shortly after, you moved in and hosted your housewarming party.

It had its details, its little flaws, but it was your place. Peter’s and yours.

And nothing sounded better than that.

But as you stood there a few days ago, you couldn’t help but see it differently. Something happened while you were gone and you don’t know what it was, not yet, but it felt different.

Different in a good way.

That’s all you knew in that moment before you remembered you had somewhere to be. After some time of debating and debating, you finally decided to give Harry Osborn a chance to be a part of your life again. You hadn’t seen him in weeks at that point because he was out of the country for some business, but with his return a few days ago and your own from the beach trip, you decided to say yes.

You sighed when you gave the space one more look, holding on to that feeling, before you slipped out, stopping outside the window. You glanced back, trying to decipher that feeling one more time.

You gave up and swung off without a second glance of that apartment building you came across so many years ago.

So, yes, you do love your apartment, but… You turn the mug with canelita in your hand. You’d be lying if you said you’re ready to move back. You swallow the words and take a drink instead, thinking it’s not right.

It’s not like Miguel and you can simply continue to live like this, right? You both have your own spaces and you don’t want to overstay, even if Miguel has told you many times that you’re welcomed. That his home is your home.

You both have your own homes, so it’s time for you to return to yours.

Right?

Right.

So, then, why are you both still disappointed?

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep. Maybe it’s the hour. Maybe these feelings will pass.

All Miguel and you know, respectively, is that the next fifteen or so hours are dreaded, but neither of you can say a thing out of respect for the other.

You both hide your true feelings about your move, thinking it’s the right thing to do.

Neither Miguel nor you say anything at four in the morning while drinking canelita. Not when you have breakfast together for the last time as his temporary roommate. Not when you both pick up your belongings and travel to your universe, knowing you’ve left a bedroom vacant of life once again. Not when Miguel and you deep clean the living room, move furniture around, and hang your pictures back again on the gallery wall.

Neither of you say anything, even when you order pizza for dinner after only eating sandwiches for lunch. At this point, everything is ready. Every single room in the apartment has been cleaned; surfaces have been dusted, the floors have been swept and mopped, furniture has been moved and found a new home within the space, and your belongings have been unpacked.

Your gallery of photographs is back. Peter’s record player sits on the bookcase and the records are back in its original spot. The box containing his belongings is back in the closet. Your clothes are in their appropriate spaces, though some laundry still needs to be done. Your personal hygiene items have taken residence in the bathroom and dresser once more.

Tomorrow you’ll just have to buy groceries to restock the now clean fridge.

You’re set to go, something you realize while having dinner with the TV on in the background. Miguel and you talk, avoiding your internal thoughts about this move, and opting to focus on other things — anything to forget that in a short while he’ll be leaving.

Yet, time reminds you both of the reality. The hours have flown by too fast.

When Miguel glances at his gizmo, he realizes he should probably head home now, but the truth is he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to leave you or your presence and go to an empty home that awaits him.

Noticing Miguel’s glance at his gizmo, makes you check the time yourself. You mentally wince. It’s getting late, and that only means Miguel will soon depart and leave you alone.

You push the feeling away, telling yourself that you shouldn’t even feel like this. This is your home after all. You should be happier to be here, to sleep on your old bed, not Gabriel’s.

Miguel frowns at the gizmo, it’s time.

“It’s late,” Miguel says slowly, noticing that his tone betrays his lack of enthusiasm to leave. “You’re probably very tired after all the cleaning we did. You should rest,” Miguel continues, telling himself to think of you. You’re probably tired and want to rest on your own bed at last after so many months of not doing so.

“I…” you trail off, wanting to say that you’re not tired, but you realize Miguel might be after helping you, and you don’t want to keep him up any longer. “Yes, a little.”

Miguel nods, your lie making him think he’s right about your exhaustion. He slowly stands up, straightening his top. He smiles at you. “I’ll let you rest, then,” he says, hesitantly reaching for his gizmo. “I’ll see you… tomorrow, maybe?” he says, not sure. Miguel realizes that he might not see you on both days of the weekend anymore, that you’ll both go back to your routines before the fire, in which you’d have Saturday dinners and see each other again until Monday at HQ.

“Yes, tomorrow. We can discuss what time to have dinner…?” you say, sounding more like a question as you stand, too.

“Yes, of course,” Miguel replies, nodding. He sighs and steps into a clearer area of your living room, opening a portal that takes him a few seconds to launch, not of out technical difficulties but because he’s stalling. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Rest, okay?”

Standing in front of him, you nod. You question why there’s a heavy feeling in your chest, one you don’t like, but hide with a smile. “I will, you, too.”

Stalling for several more seconds, Miguel finally takes a few steps back. “Bye,” he says, too softly, unwillingly.

“By-bye,” you say, stuttering a bit.

Miguel manages a smile, a small one despite his chest growing tighter. He turns around, forcing himself to or he might never leave. He stops himself from glancing back at you one more time because he has a feeling that if he does, he might just shut this damn portal and stay another hour. Or, two.

You watch gloomily as Miguel disappears into the portal, the sight obliging you to bite your lower lip because his name is at the tip of your tongue. You want to call out his name and ask him to stay another hour. Or, maybe two.

But you both refrain from doing what your bodies are begging you to do and in the end, you’re both alone in your homes with a portal that grows smaller and smaller unlike the heavy feeling in your chests.

You look around the apartment when the portal disappears entirely. This is home, but if it’s home, then why does it feel different? Something has changed in the space — something that now makes you feel like… It’s not yours entirely despite the furniture and memories you hold within it. You shake your head and decide to distract yourself with laundry, hoping it’ll help with that heavy feeling in your chest.

Back in Nueva York, Miguel gazes out of his living room’s windows. He sighs, noting the silence. There’s no music, no TV, no sound of your footsteps from somewhere - no sign of you here.

Miguel shakes his head. Okay, maybe that’s a lie. There’s traces of you across the penthouse because you helped him redecorate over the last few months. The penthouse feels better than it did in the past. There’s no denying that. It feels homier. He glances to Gabby’s altar, the candle flickering. That’s his favorite change to the penthouse, an addition you suggested on Gabby’s birthday.

There are signs of you in the penthouse, yet… Miguel turns around and faces the living room. Something left with you and now the penthouse feels different.

Miguel pushes the thoughts away. He can’t be thinking like this. It’ll do no good because it’s not like he can change anything about it. He can’t ask if you’re open to being roommates again, in a more permanent way. You love your apartment too much to leave it and Miguel would never ask you to abandon it, nor suggest some other kind of arrangement that involves you not living there. On top of that, you’re probably glad to have your own space again anyway.

He sighs again and looks at the time, realizing that just about now you’d be wishing each other a good night. His heart aches at the realization, knowing that you won’t be able to do that anymore, have that little endearing closure to the night.

“Shock,” Miguel says, realizing just how much your return to your own place is affecting him. He rubs his forehead, wondering how long it’ll take him to get used to this when his thoughts are interrupted by his gizmo. He hesitantly checks, hoping it’s not something from HQ because he doesn’t have the right mindset for it right now, but he finds your name instead and his heart leaps. He instantly opens the notification.

Dulzura Good night :)

He smiles, chuckling quietly to himself before he replies.

You sit on your bed, gizmo in hand while you wait. Of course you remembered that about this time you would’ve wished each other a good night, if only you were still there at the penthouse. You glance around the room again before laying down, the bed feeling strange now, too. A second later, your gizmo beeps, so you immediately bring it up to your face.

Migs Good night, Dulzura :)) sleep well

You smile, holding the gizmo close to you before you sigh. It’ll take some time to get used to this.

Miguel and you complete your night routines like every other night. You brush your teeth, wash your faces, and do the the rest of it as always until you get in bed, in respective universes.

You both lay to sleep, alone, in your homes.

That’s nothing new, of course. You’ve both slept alone for so long, but a loneliness creeps up on the two of you while you lay on your beds, unable to sleep. There was comfort, more than comfort, in knowing you were both down the hallway from each other — just feet away. Now, there’s universes between you.

You both try your best to sleep, but nothing works. For Miguel, not even your sweatshirt and the sound recording helps him.

Hours go by. You toss and turn, and do it again, and again, and again. Miguel wonders if you’re asleep now, then decides you must be. You’re sure Miguel is, too.

Another hour later and you can’t bear it any longer. It’s no use. You slip out of bed and change into your suit, placing your gizmo on your wrist. You leave your apartment a few minutes later in the middle of the night, ignoring the fact that you’re barely back at your apartment and for some reason leaving it in search of a distraction because you can’t sleep. You swing around your city, eyes scanning for a diversion of some kind. You almost wish there was a robbery.

Finding nothing, you stop on a rooftop and look through your gizmo. It’s past two in the morning and you’re here instead of home. You sigh and look around the empty rooftop before clicking on your gizmo again, quickly inputting information. A second later a portal opens. You step into it, leaving a rooftop just to step on another one.

You’re not even sure why you chose this dimension, but you find yourself on Earth-42, on top of the tallest building in the city where you once stood with Miguel to gaze at the city below and where you nearly lost him over a year ago.

You quietly walk around the area, staying clear of it because you don’t wish to sit where you found Miguel nearly dead, before sitting down with a huff.

“No sleep tonight,” you say to yourself, already giving up on the idea of getting some rest tonight. You slip off your mask, placing it on your thigh and lean back to observe the empty rooftop, surrounded by silence.

It doesn’t stay that way for long though. Your eyes widen when you see another portal open a few seconds later, making you wonder who’s stepping out. Your curiosity is satisfied a second later and you’re met with that familiar blue and red suit you know all too well, but the wearer of it even more.

Miguel steps out of the portal, his back to you. His eyes move across the rooftop, silently wondering why he even came here of all places. He decided to leave the penthouse a short while back and swung around Nueva York to distract and maybe tire himself out before deciding to travel here instead, something in his gut telling him to do so.

“Mi-Miguel?” you ask, causing him to turn around immediately.

His mask is disengaged instantly, his face revealed and indicating equal surprise. “Dulzura?” he says, walking immediately to you like a moth drawn to a flame. “What - what are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Miguel asks, bombarding you with questions while his gaze searches your body for signs of injury.

“No, no, I’m okay,” you quickly reassure him, noticing the way his face relaxes at your words. “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything is okay. What are you doing here?” Miguel asks again, crouching in front of you now.

“I asked you the same thing,” you reply softly, trying to get Miguel to answer first because you’re suddenly too embarrassed to share that you couldn’t sleep, or rather, share the reason why.

Miguel mumbles something under his breath, not wanting to tell you his reasoning for being awake either. “I couldn’t - I had some trouble sleeping tonight,” he admits a few seconds later. “You?”

You sigh. “I couldn't sleep either,” you confess, looking down to fidget with your mask.

Miguel's eyes widen a little. For some reason, he didn't think that would be the reason for you being here, considering you hardly have issues sleeping. “Why?” Miguel asks softly, noticing the way you're avoiding his gaze. “Did you… have a nightmare?”

“Oh,” you glance at him again, shaking your head. “No, no, I didn't. I just couldn't sleep at all. I haven't slept even a bit. Maybe it's just, I don't know, my brain being weird,” you huff out. “Wait - did you have one?” You ask softly, remembering that about twenty four hours ago, Miguel was having that nightmare about you not existing.

Thankfully, Miguel shakes his head. “No, no nightmares for me. I just couldn't sleep,” he says, moving and taking a seat next to you now, leaning back.

“I'm glad to hear that,” you reply, genuinely relieved it wasn't another bad nightmare like the one he had several hours ago. You recall how Miguel’s hands trembled, the way he looked at you, and his erratic breathing. Of course, the fact that he almost cupped your face comes to mind, too. You wonder if Miguel would've gone for it, if Lyla hadn't popped out of nowhere.

You both sit there now, on that same rooftop Miguel nearly lost his life at over a year ago. Your eyes sweep across the city, staying silent for a few minutes before Miguel breaks the silence.

“May I be honest?” he asks softly.

“Always, please,” you reply.

“I couldn't sleep because I missed — I missed you and your presence,” Miguel confesses with some trouble, his cheeks feeling warm due to the revelation.

You turn to look at him, smiling slowly. “Already?”

“Already.”

“I missed you, too, Migs,” you admit, smiling.

Miguel smiles now, sleepily. “You did?”

“Yes, I did.”

“It's relieving to know I'm not the only one,” he says, comforted, but also touched that you've been missing him, too. “I’m sorry you haven't slept, though. Are you not tired?” Miguel asks, his eyes searching your face.

You nod now, feeling some exhaustion within you that wasn't there earlier.

Miguel hums, still staring at you and thinking about how you’re both far more comforted with each other on this open rooftop in the late hours of the night than alone in the safety and comfort of your respective beds. He smiles softly when he notices your gaze become more and more sleepy.

“Maybe we need to…” Miguel starts quietly, thinking. “Maybe we need — or should consider — something.”

“Something?” you ask before a small yawn escapes your lips.

“We’re on a rooftop, instead of at home,” Miguel states, raising his eyebrow.

You nod, realizing what Miguel is saying. You missed each other on the first night and found yourselves in another universe without even planning it because neither of you could sleep. You wonder if Miguel is thinking what you’re thinking about.

“What are you suggesting?” you ask, intrigued.

“We can discuss it tomorrow, or well, later,” Miguel replies gently with a smile, glad that you seem interested on this ‘something’, too. “How about we leave this place?”

Leave? That’s the last thing you wish to do now that you’re in Miguel’s presence, but you can’t just stay on this rooftop all night, can you? “Home?” you ask, disappointed.

“Home,” Miguel says, standing up in seconds and offering you a hand to help you up.

You accept it and stand up with his help, dreading going home. You’re likely just going to stay up anyway. However, you nod to avoid showing your disappointment, even when Miguel opens a portal for you. He gestures with his hand towards it.

“Alright, we can discuss the something else later,” you say, stepping closer to the portal.

“We can. When we get some rest,” Miguel replies gently as you walk further in.

“Right, okay,” you mumble. “After some rest.”

You sigh subtly and step into the portal, touching ground again a second later. You look around, eyes going a little wide. Behind you, Miguel steps out of the portal, too, and straight into his penthouse’s living room.

Home.

You turn around to face him, surprised, and Miguel can only give you a sleepy grin.

“You can go upstairs to your bedroom, or we can stay here in the living room,” Miguel offers, feeling sleepy at last. He very briefly recalls something Lyla said a while back. Something about important people in your lives bringing you comfort and making it easier to sleep. Maybe that study was right after all because he’s suddenly feeling sleepy within a few minutes of being in your presence after he spent hours laying in bed, tossing and turning, helplessly seeking sleep but not finding it. Despite feeling sleepy, Miguel realizes he’s still not ready to part ways, even if it’s just rooms apart.

“I’m still not that tired,” you lie, not ready either.

“Me neither,” Miguel lies, too. “So… Living room?”

You nod. “Living room.”

“Do you want something to drink?” Miguel asks. “I can make some canelita.”

Half an hour later, Miguel and you sit on the living room floor. This time, though, you’re both sitting on the same side of the coffee table. There’s blankets and pillows on the couch behind you for later, but for now, you talk while enjoying the warm drink — growing sleepier and sleepier in each other’s presence when you couldn’t feel even an ounce of sleep before.

“It’s almost fall,” you state sleepily before taking a drink.

“Almost that time of year,” Miguel replies, realizing it’s true. The summer will soon end, another season approaching your lives. “The best time of the year.”

You chuckle. “Pumpkins everywhere, cold weather, sweaters — the best time of the year indeed.” You yawn.

“You’re sleepy,” Miguel comments, glancing at you.

“I’m not,” you counter softly.

“Right,” he replies, amused.

“I’m not. I’m just — yawning.”

“Because you’re sleepy,” Miguel says, noticing the way you’re blinking to stay awake.

You hum. “Nope, I’m still wide awake.” You yawn once more. “Do you remember the puzzle we completed last week? At the beach?”

“Yes, of course,” Miguel replies, sleepily. How could he forget? You both discussed something so personal while putting it together.

“I think I’m going to buy some,” you share, eyes feeling heavy.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you want to, maybe, do another one with me?” you ask, half awake and half asleep.

“It’d be a privilege,” Miguel replies, gazing at you sleepily.

“Yayyy, maybe I can find a jigsaw of a thousand pieces.”

Miguel chuckles next to you, noticing the way you’re leaning back. “I’m sure we can put it together in two or three days.”

“That sounds reasonable,” you state, unwillingly succumbing to sleep. “I’ll buy some this weekend.”

“I can get some, too,” Miguel says, picking up his mug to take a drink and stay awake. “If you want to come along you —” Miguel stops talking when he feels something on his bicep. He turns, still holding his mug with the other hand.

His gaze softens when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep on him and now your head rests on his arm after claiming not to be sleepy only a minute ago. He quietly chuckles through his nose to avoid waking you up. After putting his mug away, Miguel gently pulls the blankets off the couch and places them over the two of you before he gets comfortable, ready to give in to his sleep, too.

He relishes the warmth of your body next to his, knowing that later today, maybe you’ll both agree to something because sleepless nights are no way to live. Miguel knows that better than anyone else. While the Miguel of two years ago sought those nights because they were a refuge from his nightmares, the Miguel next to you now does not. He’s open to staying up late to talk or watch a movie with you, or something of that sort, but staying up to avoid sleep and nightmares?

Not anymore.

Never again.

And so, Miguel finally dozes off next to you, sleeping peacefully at last and without nightmares of losing you.

Previous ⋅ ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ⋅ Next

A/N: Ummm, this is weird...? I'm back already, so, hiiiii! Another update is here! I hope you don't hate me after the first half of this chapter 😔 it was just a dream! But hehe, thank you for reading!! Also, thank you so much for the lovely comments on the last update! I have yet to reply to everyone because I had the motivation to write this chapter and basically I've been doing this all day, but I'm so happy a lot of you enjoyed it and liked the latter part of the chapter!! :))

Thank you again so much!! See you very soon...!!😌

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 @1800-get-alife @hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis @f1-hoff @llumetrii @nina-from-317

credit for green divider to @/vysleix

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter twenty five

Summary: Cry Baby stands up for herself, however, when it leads to another confession... will she regret it?

Warning: Screaming, crying... throwing up?

Word Count:

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: You asked, I delivered? - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez | @am-3-thyst

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

Replaying the evening’s events over and over in your mind, you were unable to find any peace in sleep or distraction in your art. You spiraled into a pit of overthinking. Bucky’s confession and Peter’s departure gnawed at you relentlessly. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

With the surge of frustration and need for answers, you stormed out of your apartment, called a taxi, and made your way to Bucky’s place. The city lights blurred as they drove by. The cool night air from the cracked window failed to calm your racing heart. 

When arriving at Bucky’s building, you rushed to his door, pounding with all your might. Your anger propelling you. Banging echoed through the hallway, and it wasn’t long before the door swung open. Bucky stood there with a look of surprise and concern. 

“What’s going on? Are you o–” he asked, but you didn’t give him the chance to finish. Storming past him into his apartment, your emotions were beginning to boil over. 

“Why, Bucky?” you demanded, turning to face him. Your voice was filled with a mixture of anger and hurt. “Why would you tell Peter about the kiss? Why now?”

Closing the door, he turned to face you, his expression conflicted. “I… I don’t know. I just couldn’t stand hearing him talk about you like… like he knew everything about you.” 

“You had no right to tell him!” you shot back, pacing the room.

His eyes flashed with frustration. “And, what am I supposed to do? Just sit there and listen while he goes on and on about how perfect everything is. Do you think that’s easy for me?” 

Your voice broke as you yelled. “This isn’t about you, Bucky! I was trying to move past it, and now you’ve ruined everything and made a mess!” 

Bucky stepped closer, and his breathing quickened. “I care about you, and seeing you with him… I know I messed up, but I couldn’t just sit and pretend it didn’t happen.” 

Your face flushed as your anger flared even hotter. “What about Leah? How do you think she felt finding out you kissed me? How did she react?”

His face twisted, a pang of guilt rushed through him and he hesitated for a moment. “She already knew.” 

You stared at him, frozen in disbelief. Your voice was small as your gaze searched his. “She what?” 

“Leah already knew,” he repeated, his voice softer, almost matching yours. “I told her right after it happened. We talked about it,” 

“Talked about it?” you echoed. “So, she gets to know the truth from you… But, Peter doesn’t get to hear it from me? How is that fair, Bucky?” 

He avoided your gaze, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not. I know it’s not. But, Leah and I… we have an understanding.”

Shaking your head, tears brimmed in your eyes. “You don’t get it. You don’t understand what you’ve done. You took that from me.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stepping closer again. “I never wanted to hurt you–”

Your laughter cut him off, the tension in the room growing. You turned away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself, shielding your emotions. “You keep saying that, but it seems all you do is hurt me.”

His frustration mounted, his voice rising again."I was trying to protect you!" he shouted, causing you to flinch as tears streamed down your face. "I didn't want you hurting any more than you already were!" 

You opened your mouth to speak, but he wasn't done. His chest heaved with anger, and his voice boomed as he continued. "I've done things for you, things you don't even know about!" 

"What... what are you talking about?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as you turned to face him again.  

He took a deep breath, his fists were clenched at his side, yet his body trembled. "I committed murder for you!" he shouted, the confession hung in the air like a storm cloud.

You staggered back, his words shocking you like a physical blow. “What… you did what?” you stammered with a shaking voice.

The man you had known your whole life, who had always been there for you, crossed a line you never imagined.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[scarlettjemily]

What I feel The BAUs Spotify listening history looks like

Emily: her top artists would be Stevie Nicks/Fleetwood Mac but her Spotify wrapped would be messed up because she lets JJ use her phone

JJ: filled with all the pop girlies, mainly Taylor Swift and Olivia Rodrigo and she’d annoy Emily constantly trying to explain the lore behind Taylor and Olivia’s ex friendship

Tara: FILLED with gay artists, mainly Kehlani. You wanna find gay music, look at Tara’s Spotify.

Luke: he’s stuck listening to a singular playlist called ‘Running songs 180-190 BPM’

Penelope: Chappel Roan. STRICTLY all Chappel.

Rossi: this man has had Billy Joel’s Greatest Hits on repeat since Emily made an account for him

Morgan: he’s stuck in the early 90s-00s RNB but Penelope forces him to listen to Chappel Roan to expand his musical palette

Reid: he only uses Spotify for the included 15 hours of audiobooks. Then he logs into the other team members accounts to use their audio book hours as well. He also has their monthly renewal schedule memorised so he can maximise his listening time.

Hotch: this man doesn’t even have Spotify. He still buys all his songs from iTunes.

[afterglowsainz]

Spotify special- Pepe marti with #27

p.s. I love all your work!!! 💓💓💓

why’d i have to break what i love so much? | pepe marti

song; afterglow - taylor swift

a/n: thank you so much!! 🤍

part of the spotify wrapped special

Sometimes you wondered if there was a way to cure self-sabotage. And if there was, what would you have to give to heal yourself?

You didn’t understand why this always happened. Why, whenever you were in a relationship and things were going well, you felt the need to ruin it. You knew you deserved to be happy, so why couldn’t you allow it? Why did you always have to mess it up? You always did something, always blew things out of proportion, always started arguments, to the point where other people just couldn’t keep forgiving you. And so, you stayed alone.

Pepe had never given you any reason to doubt him; he was so good to you, so loyal and honest. Sometimes you felt like he was too good for you. Or was that just your insecurity taking over? No, he was too good for you. Or was he exactly the right person for you? God, why did you always have to doubt everything? He was literally the best boyfriend anyone could ask for, and here you were, arguing with him because you thought he was flirting with a girl at a race.

“She was just a fan; she only wanted a picture,” the Spaniard defended himself for the third time.

“I don’t believe you,” you said, even though halfway through the argument, you realized you might be coming across as crazy. But you had to stick to your point; you couldn’t back down so easily.

Pepe didn’t see it the same way.

“Alright, think whatever you want, y/n,” he sighed, tired. “I’ve already told you what happened. When you calm down and want to talk, I’ll be in my room.”

He walked out of your room and into his, and you instantly regretted letting him go. You regretted starting the fight—regretted everything. Why did you have to punish him for your own insecurities? Why couldn’t you just be happy?

One cup of coffee and two episodes of Gossip Girl later, you knew you had to apologize. You hadn’t been fair to him; you almost never were. You didn’t know where he found the willpower to forgive you and stay with you when he could’ve left long ago. But you were grateful he stayed. You loved him.

When you knocked on his door, he answered in his pajamas and invited you in. The moment he closed the door behind you, you couldn’t hold back your words.

“I’m really sorry about what happened,” you began. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I… I never mean to hurt you or make you feel bad. It’s all me, really—it’s all in my head, and I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this to you. I don’t want to lose this with you.” Your nerves made you stutter, and seeing his furrowed brow made you even more nervous. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Pepe didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into one of the hugs you loved so much.

“I know,” he said, kissing your head. “I know you’re sorry, and of course, I forgive you.” You let out a sigh of relief at his words. “I’ll always be yours, y/n. We’ll be okay, even if you go a little crazy sometimes.” You playfully hit his chest at that comment, and he laughed. “I know what’s going on with you, and I know it’s not your fault, but you’re everything I want. Even if you break my heart sometimes, I’m not going anywhere.”

He cupped your cheeks and sealed his words with a kiss full of reassurance.

Screw self-sabotaging—this was the real thing.

[airybcby]

hiii idk if this is where im supposed to put the spotify wrapped request thingy LMAO😭

but my top artist is lana del rey and my top song is apocalypse by cas :))

ofc!! i’m fine with either comments or asks being sent in— i have a spreadsheet to make sure i get everyone!

if your top artist was lana del rey & your top song was apocalypse by cigarettes after sex, i'd pair you with...

michael kaiser

જ⁀♡⊹｡° come out and haunt me

♡ a/n — for my spotify wrapped event :)

♡ content — michael kaiser x gn! reader, gn! reader, situationship, reader has feelings for kaiser, closed off kaiser

♡ synopsis — michael kaiser has built his world up from nothing, and he can't allow you to be the one that makes it crumble...no matter how much he wishes he could.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the glow of the city lights filtering through the sheer curtains. They painted the room in soft, shifting colors—an amber hue that felt as fleeting as he was.

Kaiser was leaning against the doorway, shirt half-buttoned, his usual smirk absent for once. His gaze was fixed on you, unreadable and distant, like he was already somewhere else entirely.

“What's wrong with you?” he asked, the words hanging thick in the air like smoke.

You turned to look at him, your lips parting as if to speak, but the words refused to come. How were you supposed to explain the weight sitting on your chest? The way every moment with him felt like holding onto something that was already slipping through your fingers?

“I’m just tired,” you said instead, your voice quieter than you intended.

He crossed the room in a few quick strides, his movements always so fluid, so self-assured. Sitting beside you, he reached for your hand, his touch both familiar and unfamiliar. You wanted to lean into him, to find comfort in his presence, but something held you back.

“You’re lying,” he said softly, his tone almost teasing, but there was an edge to it—a crack in the façade he always wore so effortlessly.

You pulled your hand away, wrapping your arms around yourself instead. “What do you want me to say, Michael?”

“Anything,” he said, his voice sharper now. “Anything other than nothing.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The truth was, you didn’t know how to tell him what you were feeling—that every kiss, every touch, every stolen moment felt like the end of the world. That being with him felt like standing in the eye of a storm, calm and chaotic all at once.

How do you tell the man that built himself up from nothing, the man that finds pleasure in you every week, the man that you know has no room in his life for love...that you may be falling for him?

“Why do you always do this?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to sound steady. “Why do you pull me in like this and then push me away?”

He flinched, just barely, but it was enough to make you pause.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said after a long silence, his voice quieter now, almost fragile. “You have to know that.”

“Then stop,” you said, turning to look at him. “Stop treating me like I’m just another thing you can walk away from when it gets too real.”

His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might actually say something—something that would make it all make sense. But he didn’t. Instead, he reached for your face, his fingers brushing against your cheek like he was memorizing the feel of you.

“I wish I could be what you need,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t.”

The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, and you looked away, unable to bear the sight of him anymore.

The city lights outside the window blurred into a mess of colors, and you couldn’t help but think that this was what it felt like to lose him—to love him.

A quiet apocalypse.

ugh i love this song so much

i hope you like it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!