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greensagephase · 1 year ago

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Nonviolent Communication - Part Eleven

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

Part Eleven

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, honey.”

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

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

“Is everything alright?” you ask.

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

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

“I can babysit Mayday.”

That catches both of their attentions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

★★★

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you want two kids?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel nods, watching as you hold Mayday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mwuah!” Mayday says loudly with a giggle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on.”

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

“It’s nothing, really.”

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

You stay silent for a few seconds, contemplating.

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

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

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

You shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Your eyes… Because they turned red.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel notices your fists, instantly feeling regret.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“... with me at least.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel nods, shifting in his seat to stretch himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s the spidey dance.”

“Peter has talked about it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel holds your gaze. “I’m not.”

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

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

“I’d love to,” he replies quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The time has come.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always,” you reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Irreplaceable,” you whisper. ______________________________

Next Part - Thanksgiving One-Shot

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

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

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

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

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

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

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anotherjheastan · 8 days ago

Text

Another Complicated Love Story

A Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley FanFic

Chapter 2 Part 1 | Masterlist

CW suggestive, fade to black, post coitus, mentions of sex, fluff

Chapter 2: Let it Burn Part 2

And baby, I’m caught in the light and I ain’t gonna fight it

There’s no use in tryin’, I’m yours

And I want you to want me the way that I want you and more

- Let it Burn by Jazmine Sullivan

Rhea and Jey strolled into the restaurant hand in hand. Rhea was surprised by how many heads turned. It seemed to be a mix of fans and folks checking them out. Jey dropped her hand to put his arm around her waist as they headed to the semi-private booths in the back.

Jey made a point to sit by her where he could rest his hand on the thigh where the dress split. He had gotten comfortable doing that on the ride over.

While looking at their menus, Jey was making small circles on her thigh with his finger. She looked at him. His hair in the front was starting to get curly, which meant it was getting long. He would probably get a trim soon. But she liked it curly. She gently touched it, not wanting to mess it up. She remembered Damian’s comment about her and guys with mullets and grinned.

“You’re supposed to be looking at the menu,” Jey said, glancing at her. He smiled.

“Yeah, well someone is drawing circles on my thigh. It’s a little hard to concentrate,” Rhea said. She moved her hand and went back to the menu.

“Sorry,” he said, giving her thigh a squeeze.

“You don’t have to stop,” Rhea said.

They looked at each other, heat passing between them. Rhea bit her lip and went back to her menu. Jey started making circles again.

They ordered appetizers and entrees and stuck with water to drink for now.

“You ready for your fight with Raquel?” Jey asked.

“Yeah that’s easy work,” Rhea said.

“It’s been a while since you had an official match on Raw,” Jey said.

“I haven’t had an official match, but you know I’ve been fighting. It seems like I’ll need to help you when you get back. I still can’t believe it was Drew.”

“Yeah, we can’t really talk about it until Monday though,” Jey said.

“It’s okay. I can drop him for you. Nobody touches Jey Uso.”

Jey laughed. “Thanks, boo.”

The food arrived and they talked about wrestling and holiday plans. They would both be on the holiday tour in a few weeks. They were looking forward to spending time together.

“Wait. With this transfer window, you don’t think you’ll be moved to Smackdown, do you?” Rhea asked.

“Naw, I don’t think so,” Jey said.

“Better not be,” Rhea mumbled, finishing the last of her food.

“What was that?” Jey asked.

Rhea grinned. “Nothing.”

“You said I better not be?”

“So you did hear me?” Rhea said, rolling her eyes.

Jey wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him.

“Naw they know you’ll miss me too much,” Jey said, grinning.

Rhea rolled her eyes, trying not to smile, but failing. “Whatever. You’d miss me too.”

“I would,” he said gently.

He licked his lips and Rhea’s eyes shifted to them. She looked up at his eyes.

The word love slipped into Rhea’s mind, but she didn’t say it. In August, all she could think about was revenge. She had never thought she would be this happy so soon, let alone this happy with someone.

Rhea pushed her rising emotions down before her eyes started to water. She touched his face, glancing between his eyes and lips.

“Why you looking at me like that?” Jey asked, his voice low.

“Like what?” Rhea said, quiet now too.

“Like you wanna get outta here,” he said, looking between her eyes and lips too.

Rhea smirked and kissed him. She was tired of talking. And worried she would say something she shouldn’t. She kissed him deeply, not holding anything back. And he returned the kiss with the same fervor.

They heard the waitress say oh sorry before shuffling away, but didn’t stop. She felt Jey’s hand drift down to the slit in her dress and travel further up her thigh. She felt his thumb searching for a certain spot and grabbed his hand just before he found it. She broke their kiss and they stared at each other breathless.

“Let’s get the check,” Rhea said.

Jey nodded. He sipped his water and stood up to look for the waitress.

*****

Rhea sighed, her dazed eyes coming into focus. She was looking at the ceiling. Jey roughly grabbed her chin and turned it toward him. He kissed her and she moaned. A shiver went through her body. He pulled her toward him and she rested her head on his chest. The sheets were a tangled mess beneath them. The comforter had fallen and disappeared on the floor.

“We shoulda did that ages ago,” Rhea said, rubbing his chest.

“Hell yeah,” Jey sighed.

They caught each other’s eye and grinned.

“It was worth the wait though,” Rhea said.

Jey nodded. He blinked slowly, sleep threatening to take over. As blissed out as Rhea was, she felt a wave of sleepiness wash over her too.

“Is this okay?” Jey asked, giving her a squeeze. “Or do you want some space?”

“No, this is good,” Rhea said, smiling. He had been so good about asking if she liked this or if that felt good. She shook her head. It was too early for flashbacks.

“Good. I know I can be very touchy-feely,” he said. “It can be a lot for some people.”

Rhea stretched her arm out across his chest and snuggled closer to him.

“I like it. I’ll probably stretch out after we fall asleep,” Rhea said, quietly.

He was so warm and he smelled so good. She closed her eyes.

“Sounds good,” Jey said.

Rhea didn’t have to look to know his eyes were closed too. After a while, Rhea felt herself starting to drift off when Jey started snoring. Soft snores fortunately. Nothing too loud. Rhea smiled and looked at him. He looked relaxed, but the arm wrapped around her held her tightly. She touched his face and said her scary thoughts out loud.

“I think I’m falling in love with you, Jey. Don’t ruin it.”

#jey uso #rhea ripley #jhea #wwe fanfiction #jey uso x rhea ripley #cw suggestive #cw sex mention #cw post coitus #fade to black #jey uso fluff #rhearipley #another complicated love story

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 5 months ago

Note

Hello, I really enjoy your reader and Donna writing and I’m always happy to see you update. No pressure, but could you write something where reader starts teasing g!p Donna by grinding against her lap while she’s trying to read or sew or something, and she continues stimulating her this way until Donna is a trembling mess and she finishes in her dress still fully clothed? Donna can then return the favor for the reader as well.

Yess!!!! Thank you for your kind words, your support is very important to me!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

To avoid the shyness

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI

Word count: 6,184

Summary: Maybe you have to be more direct for her to pay attention to you...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :)) This weekend I'm not at home, so I won't be able to write!! You can keep sending requests anyway, on Monday I'll continue writting your worderful ones!!! :)))))

Carefully, you opened the door.

Darkness had already fallen over the old estate when you returned from one of your usual visits to the village.

It hadn't been long since you had abandoned your boring village life to venture into a stage, one you hadn't expected, but for which you couldn't help but thank the Black Gods.

Life in that place was always a difficult task. Isolated from the world, locked in that stretch of land for the rest of your life, villagers like you reacted in different ways.

Some gave up, others fulfilled their obligations, and others ignored the problem. You were part of that last group, one that accepted where they were, that looked for ways to forget that situation in the simplest way: adapting to it.

You didn't have an unhappy life, you had friends, family; you had everything necessary to think that, unlike many of your friends, you had been lucky.

But that kind of innate fortune only improved with the passage of time, and, as a reward for your devotion and attitude towards that dark life, love appeared for you.

An unexpected love, a dangerous love and one that you considered impossible.

No one in their right mind would dare to think of any of the Lords in a romantic way, but, again, you were an exception in that place. Little by little, and after proving you were not like all the villagers, you managed to gain the attention of Miranda, and of the Lady of the Castle.

An extraordinary milestone, but it was nothing compared to winning the love of Donna Beneviento by chance, chance which might not be a trustworthy entity, but for you, it was much more powerful than the Gods themselves.

Problems, psychosis, nervous breakdowns, fear of losing you... The flaws of the lady in black went far beyond what an ordinary person could bear. Once again you overcame those obstacles with admirable grace.

Nothing, no previous romance had ever made you feel anything like being in Donna's arms, receiving her kisses, her caresses, contemplating that beauty she tried so hard to hide. You were hopelessly in love, and determined not to return to your old home, except for fleeting visits.

Like many people before you, with effort and determination, you managed to forge your own path, your own love story, one that you would never want to change, one that you had committed to forever.

After one of those visits to your old life, you returned to the mansion after nightfall and, discreetly, you walked through the house trying not to disturb the lady's rest, although, deep down, you knew she was awake, waiting for you nervously, as always, as if afraid of you would never returning.

But that night was different, since the attitude of the Angie doll was chaotic and she always looked for an opportunity to get on your nerves. That night she hadn’t come out to meet you.

Slowly, you walked towards the living room, where a dim light illuminated your usual reading corner. A black figure rested on the sofa, Donna, surely tired of waiting for you.

You smiled when you saw her asleep, seeing how her hands held a book that she had not been reading for a while. You could probably consider yourself the luckiest girl in the village. No one would be able to see something that beautiful.

Carefully, you crouched over her, placing a hand on her shoulder, angry for disturbing that innocent sight of someone you knew wasn't innocent.

“Hey, Donna,” you whispered tenderly, accompanying your voice with the movements of your hand, eliciting an adorable grunt from the brunette, who shifted on the couch before startling, causing you to step back in amusement.

“Non sono stato io!” she shouted hurriedly, confused, with her eye wide open. You, holding back your laughter, let yourself fall on the couch next to her, gently rubbing her back.

“What were you dreaming about?” you asked curiously, taking advantage of her newly awakened confusion to steal a tender kiss on her lips, with which she sighed in relief, rubbing her eye with her hand.

“(Y/N)… You're back,” she murmured with her voice still sleepy. You nodded with a mocking smile. “What time is it?”

“Late,” you whispered amused, keeping the smile with your eyebrows slightly arched. “Hey, you did it again.”

“Mm?” she murmured, yawning and looking at you curiously.

“Oh, come on, you know, waiting up for me, well, trying to,” you whispered in her ear to which she responded by shaking her head, with a fake smile.

“You know that when you leave the house I’m nervous, (Y/N),” she said with a more serious voice, stopping your attempts at affection with a hand on your chest. “I'm afraid that one day you won't come back.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes and looked for her hand to caress it.

“We've talked about this, Donna,” you said quietly, wishing with all your might that those jealousies and absurd fears would disappear. “You know I always come back.”

“I can't help it,” she said, looking away

“Well... It's okay,” you said, with a different sparkle in your eyes, with a desire that you had been having since you started the way back.

“Besides...”you whispered seductively, planting several kisses on her neck, causing that adorable laugh that indicated her fears were locked away again. “I’m hungry.”

“You always come back hungry,” Donna whispered in a joking tone, laughing at the caresses on her neck, at the hands that began to run along her legs. “But don't worry, I had already anticipated it.”

“Oh, really?” you said, with a frown and the same mischievous smile. “That's good because I really want to…”

“I've made you some dinner, I'm sure you haven't eaten anything,” the lady said suddenly, getting up from the couch and leaving you with your eyes wide open and your mouth dancing, confused by her attitude.

“Um, no, but, I, what I wanted to say…” you stammered, following the lady to the table, as if you were hypnotized.

“Here, eat, tesoro,” she indicated with a smile, discovering a small banquet just for you.

“Thanks, Donna, but…” you said automatically sitting down in the chair, receiving a kiss from the brunette, silencing you.

“I'm going to get something for me, that way it can be like we had dinner together,” she whispered with a tender smile, running a hand over your cheek, thus making you forget your true intentions.

“Uh, I… Okay,” you said, taking the cutlery and shaking your head. A sinister laughter got a little closer, squeaking in your ears.

“Loser,” a childish voice reached your ears and you turned your head sharply. The Angie doll attacked again.

“Oh, please, give me a break…” you sighed, clasping your hands together to emphasize your plea.

“(Y/N) fool, she wanted to make babies with Donna and she just…” the doll sang, abruptly interrupted by a slap that knocked her off the table.

“Shut up,” you hissed with a dangerous look, but mocking at the same time. “Tell me, Angie, why are you so damn shameless, and Donna seems to be so naive?” you asked curiously, a bit frustrated by your recent attempts to dance under the sheets, to feel again that intimate love that Donna seemed to have been ignoring for a while, surely without wanting to.

Donna had spent too much time alone.

The doll climbed back onto the table and shrugged, swinging her legs childishly.

“You’re part of the same mind, aren’t you?” you asked again, admiring out of the corner of your eye the delicious delicacy the lady in black had prepared for you.

“More or less,” the puppet replied, offended. “Do you want some advice?”

“No,” you replied curtly, shaking your head and keeping your gaze on the elevator hallway.

“Well, I’ll give you some,” the doll said, ignoring your answer, as always. “Donna doesn’t work with subtlety, if you want something from her, you have to be more direct.”

“I told you I didn’t want advice,” you protested, filling yourself a glass of water. “It’s none of your business, Angie.”

“Well, it turns out that seeing you begging for Donna to pay attention to you is not a pleasant sight for me, so yes, stupid, it is my business,” the doll defended herself, crossing her arms.

You bit your lip to avoid an insult and decided to ignore the doll.

“Can I have dinner in peace?” you asked ironically, with your legs shaking with impatience. You wanted Donna to come up as soon as possible to end that uncomfortable conversation.

“She will never get your hints, you silly village girl,” the doll insisted, putting a wooden finger on your nose that you pushed away with another slap. “If you want something from her, you have to ask her or she will continue in her world of dolls and cheesy things.”

“Do you want to leave me alone? I told you that it is not your business,” you complained again, crossing your arms, with the blush of your discomfort appearing on your cheeks.

“What you have to do is be a little more direct, you know, for example: you can kneel down pretending that you dropped something and start sucking her…”

“Shut up!” you shouted embarrassed. “Just what I needed, a living doll giving me advice about my sex life…” you said incredulously, shaking your head.

Luckily, the sound of the elevator appeared before you threw the puppet into the warm fire of the fireplace.

“I'm here, tesoro,” the lady said, carrying some fruits with her to accompany you in your late dinner. You sighed in relief, with a smile.

“Thank you, because I was about to commit a ‘dollicide…’” you joked. Donna looked at the doll with one fiery eye and Angie fled the scene laughing mockingly, laughing at you, of course.

The dinner was quiet and you avoided thinking about the words of that doll by all means, although it was a difficult task.

“How do you do it?” you asked, wiping yourself with a napkin once you finished eating. The lady in black finished her orange and looked at you smiling, with a confused face.

“What do you mean?” she asked in a relaxed tone, tilting her head in an adorable way.

“I mean, of course, these edible masterpieces. You have an incredible talent, Donna,” you said, turning the conversation to a calmer one, without innuendos or ulterior motives.

“It's not talent, (Y/N) it's a matter of practice,” she said, with her usual modesty and insecurity. You sighed and nodded with a grimace of approval.

“I see,” you said with a tired sigh. “Hey, maybe you'd like to teach me.”

“Do you want me to teach you how to cook?” she asked, with excitement adorning her face. You smiled back, also excited by the idea.

“I would love to…”

The next day, just as you had asked, a culinary lesson that you had been wanting for a long time, awaited you. Angie's words kept echoing in your head, but they would surely fade away with a perfect morning with Donna, one like the thousands of them you wanted to live.

“What are you going to teach me?” you asked amused, already in the kitchen next to the lady in black, who smiled tenderly because you appreciated her skills.

Neither evil nor dangerous, Donna Beneviento was just a poor unfortunate soul who didn’t have the same luck as you. That was something you already knew, and you loved to see for yourself, to see that kindness, that tenderness.

“What do you know about cooking?” she asked back, blushing because of your hands on her waist and your expectant look.

“Well, I know… That is… a tomato, right?” you joked, pointing at the vegetables on the counter. Donna laughed amused, shaking her head and moving your hands away from her waist.

“Okay, first I'm going to teach you how to cut vegetables with a knife,” she said, ignoring your mischievous hands, your dangerous look. You put on a feigned look of surprise and blinked repeatedly.

“Oh, that sounds dangerous, what if I cut myself?” you joked, letting the lady put two of those tomatoes on top of a wooden board, picking up a knife amused and blushing at your attitude.

“If you do what I tell you, you'll never cut yourself, Tesoro,” she answered in a soft voice, indicating for you to take a look at the way she held the tool.

You looked at her, curious.

“See? If you put your fingers like this, the knife will never be able to cut you,” she explained, with a more serious tone while the silver dagger cut those tomatoes as if they were butter.

“It seems complicated,” you whispered with a frown, mesmerized by her quick movements.

“It may take you some time to get used to it at first, but it's basic to do everything else. You can't cook without fingers,” Donna said amused, with a somber voice and a mischievous look that you returned.

“Can’t I? Well, my aunt's neighbor only has three fingers and by his appearance he doesn't seem to be hungry,” you said ironically.

Donna laughed again, sighing and shaking her head.

“Take it seriously, tesoro, I don't want you to get hurt,” she whispered tenderly, without reproach.

“I’m taking it seriously,” you joked, crossing your arms. Donna sighed again, moving the knife with an elegant acrobatic movement and extending it towards you.

“Try, (Y/N),” she said with a satisfied smile, throwing the already cut tomatoes into a pot.

“Okay…” you said with the knife in your hand, approaching the wood and holding it in a way similar to her.

Well, if it wasn't your point of view, I would probably say that it didn't look anything like it. Advantages of an omniscient narrator…

“No, no, that's how you're going to cut yourself,” Donna interrupted you, holding your hand so you didn't sink the knife into the fruit, standing behind you. That position made you shiver, which you made disappear by blinking hard. “Let me help you…”

Slowly and with a delicacy impossible for anyone else, Donna took your hand, gently placing it in the correct way, poking her head over your shoulder, giving you more shivers.

There was a small tense moment when you turned your head and your smiles met. Having Donna behind you, moving your hands in such a… Sensual way, made you remember the puppet's words, made you unable to think of anything else.

“Just like that,” the lady whispered in your ear, moving your hand, carefully guiding the knife, cutting that tomato slowly, but almost perfectly. “Let it slide, don't force it...”

It could be the lack of intimate relationships or that you just had one thing on your mind, but that phrase made you squirm, forcing you to bite your lip.

You sighed at that sudden heat, exhaling something more like a moan than a sigh. As usual, Donna didn't seem to notice your sudden arousal.

You have to be direct

Angie's phrase involuntarily resonated in your ears

With a look she couldn't see, you moved, just enough for your bodies to collide irremediably. Your hips were asking for friction, and they were going to get it. Donna gasped in surprise at your sudden movement, holding you in case that unexpected contact was the result of a stumble. That made your arousal even worse, starting to move slowly against her.

Silence fell in the kitchen and your movements tirelessly brushed against the already incipient bulge between her legs. Donna was so sensitive, so… Perfect…

But your desire to play was even stronger than your lust. Without moving away from that erotic touch, you slowly cut a couple of tomatoes, following her advice while the hand that circled your waist kept you right where she wanted. Amused, you moaned softly, noticing how her hand moved away to go to the edge of your skirt, threatening to pull it down.

That touch, that touch with your clothes on was a sensation you didn't know you liked that much, and that you didn't want to lose so easily. With an indiscreet clearing of your throat, you moved away from the brunette, but without stopping to brush against her erection.

You glanced at her with dark eyes, biting your lip to provoke more involuntary movements of the doll maker's hips, who, with just a small touch, was already breathing nervously.

“How about this, Donna? Am I doing it right?” you asked in a velvety, hoarse and sensual tone. She swallowed and nodded, closing her eye to enjoy the contact even more.

That face beginning to be devoured by pleasure tickled between your legs, thus revealing to you a new way of feeling pleasure, of making her feel pleasure. The lady nodded, running her arms through yours, removing the knife from your hands and turning you around.

“What is the next lesson?” you asked with a smile, running a hand over her heaving chest, pulling her so she was very close to you again.

Donna didn't say anything, she simply returned that friction to her hips, rubbing against yours, grabbing your legs and leaning you over the counter, increasing the intensity of the rubbing of her erection between your legs, a new sensation for you, which you didn't want to lose.

As if the simple fact of provoking that lustful contact was already enough to make the lady in black go crazy, she put her hands in your dress, lowering your underwear slightly while you climbed onto the counter.

The kisses were wild and her movements followed that same rhythm. Well, at least it hadn't been that difficult to make the brunette see what your body was screaming for.

With a hurried moan, she released her erection from her black skirt, positioning herself at your entrance quickly, not wanting to waste time with the usual kisses and caresses.

Donna's haste only excited you even more, forcing you to hug the brunette with your legs while you felt the tip of her shaft in your wet folds.

“Hey! Let her go!” a terribly inopportune Angie shouted, appearing by surprise at the kitchen door.

Donna backed away in fright, keeping her embarrassment to herself again, trying in vain to pretend that nothing was happening.

“What the fuck...? Angie!” you shouted, pulling up your underwear and getting off the counter, exchanging pleasure for anger in less than a second. “Go away!”

“No!” the doll shrieked as the lady in black tried to compose herself, terribly embarrassed.

“Donna, it's Miranda, Miranda’s called,” the puppet said, ignoring your protests and pulling at Donna's black dress. She looked at her furiously.

“What does she want?” the lady asked, adjusting the fabric to hide her arousal.

“Meeting, there's a meeting,” Angie sang, having fun with your disoriented and frustrated look.

“Oh, come on…” you protested, running a hand through your hair, over your flushed face and crossing your arms.

“I'm, I'm sorry, (Y/N),” Donna stammered, picking up the doll in her arms and giving you a quick apologetic kiss, one that you growled indignantly at.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” you mocked unpleasantly, causing the lady to stop fleeing the kitchen, sighing and approaching you again.

“Hey, don't worry, tesoro, we could continue when I get back,” she whispered affectionately, moving Angie in her arms so she would stop hitting her shoulders impatiently.

“Yeah, sure,” you said, taking off your apron and looking away, letting her leave the room in a hurry.

No, you weren't going to continue. Meetings were always a torment for the lady in black. She loved her siblings, but she couldn't stop her fears, her irrational hatred for people, from making those meetings a bad experience for the doll maker.

She would come back exhausted, leaving you hanging once again.

But if that little encounter served any purpose, it was for you to find a new way to provoke her, a direct one, just as the annoying Angie suggested. It seemed innocent, a simple touch, but, of course, it was much more than that for Donna.

Normally, turning her on wasn't a complicated task, she was very sensitive and you loved it. You simply looked for a way to do it in a subtle way, with just your words, or with your soft touches. But her gaze, her throbbing erection against your body told you that this was going to be very funny, too much funny.

The idea of intimacy disappeared the moment the lady returned, as you thought, exhausted.

But you didn't take it badly, not at all. In fact, that night you slept very well, with a naughty idea in your mind, one that you would put into practice the next day.

Just as you had evilly planned, that day started normally: kisses, words of love, innocent caresses, nothing that seemed to remind the brunette of your growing desire.

But that would end soon.

During the quiet hours of tea and reading you shared with Donna, your instincts moved through you, forcing you to brush against her body again, to grant her that look, those gasps of pleasure. In a less subtle way, you climbed into her lap, rubbing yourself against her body, provoking that previous excitement again, feeling pleasure for it. Maybe that was much better than a passionate outburst.

But you had a flaw, and that was your vengeful side. If you had to find someone to blame, it would be Angie, but you couldn't forget that moment when everything vanished and abstinence returned to your way of life.

With that evil intention, you tried to let Donna not be able to release, to go further, lifting you from her lap when she was already a trembling mess. That game of yours lasted for several days and Donna didn't seem angry about it, she only protested with high-pitched moans and a pleading eye.

Could it be that this lustful touch was also terribly exciting for her?

Shortly after her breathing calmed down, naivety returned to her face and the smile returned to her mouth, as if she forgave that little moment of pleasure that didn't come to an end, as if she felt the same fun as you.

“Hello,” you greeted amused, bursting into the doll workshop while Donna was working on her dolls, as concentrated as always. Yes, of course, your plan was to make her lose that concentration.

“Mm,” a murmur was her answer, along with a gesture of her hand for you to come closer.

After spending days distracting her with your touch, you only had one moment left, one moment to make her lose her cool, in a good way of course.

Following the steps of her family, Donna spent hours making those dolls that you had no special sympathy for. That was the only time she could escape your lust, you hoped until that moment.

“What are you doing, my love?” you asked, hanging on to her shoulders and capturing her lips. Donna's tender smile almost made you forget your intentions, almost.

For her, a kiss from you was an eternal reminder of fidelity, that you would never abandon her.

“I’m working on my dolls,” she answered innocently, relaxing her smile and concentrating again on the dress she was sewing.

“Oh, I see,” you joked, resting your head on hers, massaging her shoulders slowly. She moved a to push you away, indicating that you were bothering her. “If you want, I'll go…” you sighed, pretending sadness and getting up.

She stopped sewing and looked at you with a sad eye, with an apologetic look.

“No, tesoro, I… I'm sorry,” she said with a soft voice, caressing your hand so you wouldn't move, so you would stay there. “I just don't want to stick the needle in my hand.”

“Mm” you murmured, nodding, coming closer again and watching her work, something you could do for hours. “I'd like to learn how to sew,” you said with disinterest, admiring her quick movements on the old machine.

Donna laughed and shook her head, admiring that new little dress, ready to be sheathed in one of the porcelain pieces.

“You want to learn a lot of things lately,” she whispered, running her finger along the seams, checking that she had done a good job despite your annoying presence.

You nodded, blinking mockingly.

“I like the way you teach me,” you whispered in her ear, massaging her shoulders again. She laughed nervously and shook her head, looking at you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“I think what you like to do is something else, tesoro,” she commented amused, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it quickly.

Well, yes, maybe you shouldn't have taken her for a stupid woman, she wasn't.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” you said, feigning confusion, biting her earlobe, causing the lady to fidget nervously in her chair.

“I think you have,” she replied dryly, admiring the other pieces of fabric on the table.

“You're so tense, Donna…” you hissed in her ear, intensifying your massage.

“You've made me tense, (Y/N),” she said, breathing hard.

“How?” you asked amused, surrounding her so she had no choice but to look at your face.

“You, you know how…” she said, starting to babble while you maintained a cocky pose and a dark look. “Doing… That to me…”

“Oh, this?” you said abruptly, standing in front of her and settling on her lap, something she didn't reject, as her hands surrounded your body.

“Yes…” she sighed when your hips began to move in a subtle way, in a way you knew drove her crazy, even though she still didn't admit it, yet.

“You don't like it?” you asked in a melodic voice, slightly increasing the intensity of your hip movements, already noticing that delicious bulge between her legs.

“Yes, yes, I, I like it but...” the lady stammered, embarrassed because her body had given her away, following your touch in a rhythmic way, silencing any protest by drowning it with a moan, with her eye closed while her hands caressed your back.

You smiled triumphantly, kissing her neck slowly, running your tongue over her pale skin while her hands guided your hips to deepen that subtle touch. Well, you had managed to distract her from her dolls, it was quite a milestone.

“You're so sensitive, Donna, I love you…” you whispered lovingly, taking your time to move, to feel her erection as intensely as possible, which caused her nails to scratch the fabric of your dress and rest her head on your shoulder, making an amused attempt to nod.

“Don’t, don't go this time, please,” she begged with another moan, when your kisses reached her lips and her hands pressed your hips against hers, harder than usual. Maybe Donna had already reached her limit, good.

“Mm,” you murmured amused, playing with your body on her lap, increasing the intensity of her discreet moans with your touch. “Only if you behave, Donna…”

“Yes, yes, I…” she whispered, moaning more indiscreetly when you stopped your movements to slide your hand between her legs, to grab her erection through the black fabric of the dress. “Take it out, please, I need you…”

“Oh, you're so impatient…” you mocked, letting her shaft go and cupping her face in your hands, her confused and disoriented face. “No, no, Donna…”

“Please, stop…” she said, nervously, pulling at the fabric of your dress when her words weren't enough to stop you from moving.

Her body trembled and her breathing betrayed concern. Only one thing could happen to her, something that just thinking about it made you writhe in pleasure.

“Why? You like it,” you said, pouting, kissing her lips in a treacherous way, caressing her breasts, squeezing them gently in your hands.

The increase in your impudence only served to make her protest with a moan, moving her legs in frustration at your refusal to grant her that pleasure. No, that was a game you thought you would win.

“Yes, I like it, (Y/N) but I want… I want to make you mine, please…” Donna said, resting her head on your chest, running away from your provocative caresses while your body kept insisting, kept dancing with hers, kept brushing against her arousal.

“Are you in a hurry, my love?” you mocked, lifting her chin with your finger.

Her forehead was sweating as she nodded profusely, panting and moaning desperately for that desired contact, contact that you gave her, but not in the way she wanted, of course.

“Yes, if you don't stop, I'm going to…” she said, closing her eye tightly, but involuntarily increasing the friction with your hips.

“You are going to what? My precious Donna…” you mocked again, fighting your own moans, wanting to be the undisputed queen of the situation. “Oh, honey… Don't tell me you're going to…”

“(Y/N), please…” she murmured erratically, outlining with her words a mischievous smile on your face.

You really didn't think you'd go that far, but this situation was being terribly exciting, the moisture growing between your legs confirmed it.

Could she reach the limit just with your touch? There was only one way to find out.

“Shh, relax… You're so good, Donna, so sensitive, so… Beautiful,” you whispered tenderly, relaxing your movements, showering the lady in black with compliments, with those words that you knew sent shivers down her spine.

A muffled moan left her lips, leaning towards you, keeping the pressure of your body on hers as her body trembled with her shameful release, causing her wetness to soak the fabric of her dress.

“Cazzo, (Y/N)…” she sighed, letting her body relax after her unexpected ejaculation caused by your incessant rubbing.

She was wonderful, certainly, and as dirty as it seemed, you could only feel tenderness.

“What a mess you've made, huh?” you said amused, looking down at that subtle stain of moisture that corrupted the darkness of her dress. She kept her eye closed, and her cheeks flushed.

“This is… Embarrassing…” she sighed, shaking her head, trying to relax her breathing.

“Why? I found it so sexy,” you purred in her ear, running your hand over that moisture, enjoying her heat, a treacherous and improvised heat. Donna shook her head, also looking down and running a hand over her forehead.

“Are you happy now?” the lady asked, looking at the mess in her dress, but keeping you on her lap while you covered her with caresses. “Look what you've done.”

“Um…” you laughed amused, stealing a kiss from the embarrassed lady, who narrowed her eye at your shameless attitude. “I’m proud.”

Donna laughed ironically, looking away. Although she seemed upset, you knew she wasn't at all.

“Now what, huh? Oh, I'm going, I'm going to clean me up,” she said, pushing you off her lap and looking sadly at the stain on her dress. You were quicker than her, stopping her embarrassed escape with a hand on her wrist.

“Hey, hey, hey, where do you think you're going?” you said in a husky tone, pulling her body towards yours, running your tongue over your lips.

“I already told you, I'm going, I'm going to clean me up,” she repeated, displaying her infinite naivety. You pouted and shook your head, wrapping your arms around her neck and whispering very close to her lips.

“No, no, no, my precious, Donna, I think you owe me a favor,” you said sensually, running your tongue over her lips. Her gaze remained dark, but her hands traveled to your cheek, gently brushing it with her thumb as she shook her head.

“The favor of ruining my dress?” she commented, with a tender look, far removed from the embarrassment of moments before. You pretended to think about it and then nodded with a smile.

“Exactly,” you said in a brusque tone, arching your eyebrows in a threatening manner. Donna seemed to think too and then shook her head, stealing an unexpected kiss from you.

“Okay, but let me take a shower first,” she whispered, kissing your cheek before letting your hand go and turning around. You, again, prevented her. “(Y/N)…”

“Stay still, huh? You’ve been running away from me for too long,” you said in a threatening tone, kissing her and slowly bending down until you were kneeling on the floor.

“What are you…? (Y/N)!” she squealed in surprise when your mischievous hands lowered the bottom of her dress, giving you a privileged view of the mess you had caused.

“Relax, I’ll take care of this. Do you think that will be enough to be able to return the favor, Donna?” you said amused, grabbing her shiny shaft with your hand and moving it slowly with a mischievous look.

“(Y/N), don't do that, not now,” she protested.

Well, she protested with her words, actually, she didn't make any attempt to get away from your intentions.

“Why not? You're delicious, Donna,” you whispered mischievously, running your tongue over her skin, tasting the product of your provocation, the sweet taste of her release.

“Don't, say... Those... Things...” Donna sighed, not being able to help but moan when your mouth embraced her flesh, when your lips withdrew her shame while your hand followed the rhythm, stimulating, noticing how her erection was forming again.

“It's the truth,” you said, pulling away for a moment, looking at the result of your obscene gesture before sucking the tip, causing a moan from the brunette, who grabbed your head keeping it in the desired place.

Perfect, she was crazy with pleasure again.

“It's so hard…”

“(Y/N) I… Don't stop…” she moaned, now freed from her shyness, gently moving her hips so your mouth could travel all over her shaft, so your hand could play with it slowly while your lips caressed it.

“Mm yes, I'm going to stop,” you said with disinterest, getting up from the floor, but continuing with your caresses.

“(Y/N),” Donna protested, already at the limit again. “Go down, go down again, per, please...” she said with a pleading tone.

You shook your head, pulling her hand and dragging her towards one of the work tables, getting rid of your underwear and shamelessly showing your wet entrance, separating your legs.

“Come here, doll face, return the favor to me...” you hissed, making a suggestive gesture with your finger. Donna nodded, grabbing your face and pulling it to kiss you passionately, while her body was already burning in contact with yours.

“You are incorrigible,” she whispered in your ear, positioning her shaft at your entrance, moaning at the moisture that made contact with hers as she entered slowly, letting your body get used to it.

“Donna… You are so… Big…” you moaned, feeling a pleasurable relief at noticing her inside of you, at feeling again that pleasure you had such a hard time getting from the shy Beneviento woman.

“Don't protest, you owe me this,” she said, in a dark voice, entering completely and starting to move, making your walls stretch in a way that made you moan, completely losing control of the situation.

Now your moans were the ones that bathed the workshop. The obscene sound of your bodies colliding seemed to want to crack the walls.

You burned with pleasure, moving as best you could, avoiding feeling too close, avoiding Donna thinking that you were the desperate one, although she may have already known that. She wasn't stupid, she never was.

“That's it, that's it, darling…” you gasped when her hands lifted your legs, positioning them on top of her shoulder so she could harden her almost rabid thrusts. “Oh, Donna…”

“(Y/N),” the lady moaned in response, closing her eye and letting herself be carried away by the inertia of her erratic movements, stopping right in the places you needed. “You, hold me… so tightly…”

“Of course, my body loves you, I love you, Donna,” you said with the tenderness that the growing intensity of the movements allowed you, just before your body gave you away, leaning, tensing and emitting a thunderous moan that bounced off the wooden limbs hanging from the ceiling.

Your orgasm and the nervous tightening of your walls caused the lady in black to release herself again, like in a coordinated symphony, flooding you with her heat, letting out a gasp of exhaustion from her lips, leaning her head forward and trembling again, staying hopelessly inside of you.

“(Y/N)…. You are… You are…” she murmured, moving closer to give you a quick kiss while you laughed in amusement.

“Now you know what happens when you neglect me for too long, Donna,” you joked, moving your body so the mixed moisture between your legs massaged your hot entrance.

“What?” Donna asked, confused, frowning. “Did I neglect you?”

“Uh-huh,” you affirmed with a childish look, with a good girl smile that didn’t match your posture. “But don't worry, I can teach you to change that, unless you like having to do the laundry more often…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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clarisse0o · 5 months ago

Text

Camp Wiegman - Part 2

Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze

Alternate Universe : Military School

Words: 7k

Masterlist

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Monday, October 5th, 6:00 PM - Ona's Room

I groan in displeasure upon hearing a door slam. I take off my headphones, which are no longer playing music. I realize I’ve managed to fall asleep again, and someone has just woken me up. How do I sleep so much? I sometimes wonder. A girl with perfect brown hair has just entered the room. I guess she’s the roommate I was told about.

- "Oh, sorry if I woke you," she says. "I didn't know you were already here! You're the new one, right?"

- "Hmm." I make the effort to get up after stretching well. This girl isn't to blame for my bad mood, so I’ll try to be nice for our first meeting. She gives me a smile that shows her perfectly aligned white teeth. I briefly look her over. She seems nice, that's something. She’s not a bimbo, and she’s rather pretty. Probably a girl who turns many heads.

- « Alexia Putellas" she introduces herself, holding out her hand.

- « Ona Batlle" I reply, shaking it.

- "They gave me your stuff," she informs me.

- "Really?" I look at the clothes I’ve just received, frowning. There are different outfits, each given in triple copies. Tell me this isn’t what I think it is... I look at her to be sure. She’s wearing exactly one of the outfits I’m holding.

- "No way am I wearing this."

- "Sorry," she grimaces. "It's in the rules. You'll get used to it quickly, you'll see."

- "I don't think so, no. I don’t plan on staying."

- "Oh... I see." I feel like she’s mocking me. She’s immediately less friendly than I thought. I prefer not to comment on her attitude so we don’t start off on the wrong foot. Instead, I focus on what I have in my hands. I observe the set with a look of disgust. Uniforms, seriously! That’s not going to work for me. They’re all in khaki, black, or gray. As dull as this place. It seems like they do everything to demoralize us.

- "Did they tell you that you have a supervisor or something like that?"

- "I think so, yes. They mentioned something like that."

- "Oh, and do you know the person’s name?"

- "No, they didn't tell me anything," I say, shrugging.

- "You'll find out tomorrow, I guess. Well, I was going to see some friends before dinner. Do you want to come with me? I'll introduce you."

- "Why not, yes," I reply after hesitating.

It’s not necessarily a good idea, but I’m here now. Might as well try to fit in until I leave. I don’t plan on staying alone either, and making new friends shouldn’t be a bad thing. I just need to be pleasant, but that might be complicated given my mood. Alexia smiles broadly, showing her pleasure. I put the uniforms she brought me into my wardrobe. If there’s one thing I can't stand, it’s people touching my stuff. Thanks to that, I’ve gotten used to putting everything away instantly. Alexia patiently waits for me to finish before we go downstairs. She talks to me about a room I don’t know yet. We reach the ground floor. I thought we’d go outside, but she leads me to an old wooden double door to the left of the stairs. I hadn’t even noticed it when I arrived, which shows how much attention I paid. I was probably too busy being angry with my mother.

- "Here we are. This is the students’ common room."

- "The students’ common room?" I repeat.

- "Yeah, it’s a large break room where we can do whatever we want during our free time."

- "I thought it was a prison and we had to go back to our rooms..."

- "Oh no," she giggles. "You’ll see, it’s not that bad in the end. Just stay out of trouble and they leave us alone."

- "Hmm..." She opens the wooden door, which seems heavy and rusty given how it creaks. It’s impossible to enter unnoticed.

She gives me yet another smile before entering the room first. I discover a large furnished room. Alexia is probably right. The camp might not be as terrible as it looks. There’s a TV, foosball tables, sofas, tables... Basically, a place to hang out. I think I’m going to like this place. I’m surprised people don’t care about our arrival. I expected to be the center of attention for being the new one arriving in the middle of the year, but apparently not. Everyone continues their activities as if nothing happened. There are bursts of laughter, conversations coming from everywhere, and even people with their noses in their books. I don’t know how they can study in this atmosphere. It’s impossible for me. I need calm to concentrate. The room must be well insulated because I didn’t hear anything from the outside. I come back to reality when Alexia stops in front of already occupied sofas. These must be the friends she talked about. The sofas are arranged facing each other with a small table serving as a footrest. I feel uneasy imagining that this group must have known each other for years.

- "Hola chicas ! I brought some company!"

- "Hi," I say timidly.

- "Hey! You must be the new one? Alba, Alexia’s sister. »

OK, that’s clear. I didn’t expect such a warm welcome. They don’t seem at all bothered to see me, on the contrary. Irene smiles just as much as her sister, it seems. I stop analyzing and give a small smile back, introducing myself. I turn to the other two, who seem just as nice at first glance. According to Alexia, they are two inseparable best friends. Their names are Patri Guijarro and Claudia Pina. I learn that the group isn’t complete and that two more people will join us for dinner. I hope they’ll be as nice as these guys. Alexia sits next to her sister on the couch and pats the last spot beside her. I join her, and what I feared quickly happens. I’m subjected to a real interrogation about my city, my age, my class, and more. I answer vaguely to the last questions that became too personal. I don’t like revealing myself. They’ll have to be content with my answers. I’m not very brave, especially with strangers. They seem to understand because they go back to normal conversations. I don’t understand much, but at least they stop asking me questions. Alexia takes the trouble to explain some things so I can follow along a bit. It’s a quarter to six when we head to the cafeteria. We have to walk behind the administration building to get there. The cafeteria is a stone building that has been renovated. It looks like a café with its bay windows and a few tables at the entrance. It’s just a dream scene once you go through the second door. Reality hits with a cafeteria more in line with the school’s image. There are many tables and perfectly aligned chairs. I follow my new friends to the left of the room where a line has formed in front of a large buffet with staff to serve us. It’s early, yet there are already some people. I imitate Alexia by taking a tray and cutlery. She explains the process as we go. It’s similar to the canteen I had in high school, but she seems to enjoy explaining it so much that I don’t dare say anything. When our trays are full, I follow her to a table where two people are already seated. I recognize the principal’s daughter, Lotte, I think. I don’t know the other person, who introduces hermself as Leah Williamson. I sit across from Alexia and the girls quickly join us to start a conversation with the two new people. I’m reassured to see that the atmosphere remains the same as before.

- "You got caught again Leah, ?" Alba mocks.

- "Yeah... I got more laps around the field."

- "That’s what happens when you try to skip out," Alexia laughs.

- "Laps around the field?"

- "Oh, yeah! Don’t try to defy the instructors," she warns me. "You’ll regret it quickly!"

- "Hmm, we’ll see."

- "Do we have a little rebel here?" Leah comments.

- "No. I just don’t plan on staying locked up here."

- "Trust me, I’ve tried everything! There’s no way out," she tells me.

- "I’m sure," I sigh. This school looks like a prison to me, and Leah, seems to share my opinion. She tells me about all the infractions she's committed. She's the rebel of the group. I finally feel understood by someone. She wants the same thing as I do, and yet she's been here for three years. My dismissal might be more complicated than I hoped. She teaches me a lot by sharing all her crazy ideas for driving the instructors mad. She seems pretty funny. I appreciate that they've integrated me into their group so easily. It's as if I've been with them from the beginning. I even find myself feeling sad when it's time to go back to the room. Alexia is an easy-going girl. I shouldn't have any trouble getting along with her, just like her friends. I hope I won't ruin everything by shutting myself off. I answered many questions tonight, but none about my arrival. It must be a taboo subject because no one mentioned their reasons for being here when it was their turn to talk about themselves. At least I didn't shut down during the evening. I feel better than when I arrived since meeting them. I even continue talking with Alexia on our way back to our room when we discover that we are in the same class. It's good news; at least I won't be alone. She's the only one from the group with me, but it's convenient since we share the same room. I'm sure I'll never get lost at least. It's a bit before ten o'clock when Alexia decides it's time to go to bed. I'm disappointed and far from tired since I slept half the day. I try to change her mind until she mentions the word "curfew." I thought this school couldn't get any worse... That's the last straw. If it were up to me, I'd keep chatting, but Alexia has already turned her back in bed. I resign myself to doing the same, turning off the last light in the room. I try to fall asleep, but it's impossible. I turn countless times in my bed, trying to get there. I feel like the night is going to be long...

Tuesday, October 6; 06:00 - Ona and Alexia's Room.

I jump when the alarm goes off. Well, more like the alarm clock. Damn! I thank Joan at this moment for training me to wake up energetically. I grumble and pull the blanket over my head when the daylight blinds me. It wasn't there a second ago. I guess it's the work of my roommate who is shaking me energetically.

"Move your ass, Ona! Or you'll get busted!" "Hmm."

I don't even know what time it is, but it's way too early for my little body, especially since I fell asleep at two in the morning. She gives up on getting me out of bed and starts moving around farther away. As for me, I can't react. I'm so exhausted that my body doesn't want to move. I even curl up to try and get my sleep back, which isn't hard to return.

Tuesday, October 6 ; 06:30 - Ona and Alexia's Room.

"GET UP, BATLLE!"

I groan, sinking into my pillow. What's with that voice? It could have been very pleasant to my ears if she hadn't raised her tone like that. I tighten the blanket against my face. Whoever it is, I just want to fall back asleep one more time, but I doubt they'll let me do that.

"You have three seconds. ONE," she starts counting down. "TWO. THREE."

Go to hell. This thought comes straight from my heart, if only she knew. She'll have to lift me if she wants me to get up. It only took a fraction of a second for me to feel a draft followed by a wet sensation. I scream in surprise as water runs down my face. I inwardly call my unknown assailant every name I can think of, never imagining I could think such things about anyone. I don't have time to reply verbally before the mattress I was lying on is yanked out from under me, sending my body crashing to the floor. She dared! She dared to throw me out of bed to get me up! I never thought that phrase I was thinking would take on a literal meaning. I violently extricate myself from the situation to stand up. Now I'm wide awake and she's going to regret her actions.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!" I shout. "WHO SAYS I'M NOT CARDIAC!"

A pair of emerald eyes I wasn't expecting is fixed on me. I had already prepared a long speech to unleash, but I'm frozen. Who is this girl? She looks so young. I have to look away to hide my discomfort. I take the opportunity to analyze the room. Alexia is no longer there, and her bed is perfectly made. I think I'm in deep trouble. Maybe I should have listened to Alexia when she shook me awake. I turn my attention back to the only person present. She took advantage of my distraction to move closer. She looks angry while I am completely lost. I can't seem to organize my thoughts in the face of her imposing presence and unwavering gaze. I back away to escape her, but an obstacle prevents me. I look down to find the mattress she overturned earlier. I come back down from my emotional high, remembering her actions. The witch!

"So you're the new one," she begins in a surprisingly calm voice. "Know that if you were cardiac, you wouldn't be here."

"What do you know?" I retort bluntly. "And who are you anyway?"

"Your supervisor," she states sternly. "Keep defying me like that, and you'll be doing ten laps around the field."

I start to laugh nervously. I dare to look her up and down to muster some courage. Her, my supervisor? This must be a joke! She's barely older than me. They seriously put a young girl like her in charge of me? They really underestimate me. This girl is going to crack first. She'll soon regret having me under her care, given the hard time I plan to give her. I'll never manage to address her formally, and I sense it's these little details that will irritate her. She furrows her brows and yanks my arm with a sharp gesture, forcing me to follow her. I almost trip over the mattress in the process. She opens my wardrobe without any shame while I watch her, unable to move. I hate it when people rummage through my stuff. She glances through until she finds what she's looking for. She grabs a pair of black jogging pants and a gray T-shirt that's half too big for me and thrusts them against my chest. I catch them with a grunt. She continues searching lower this time to pull out the black combat boots brought with my uniforms. She places them on top of the pile with a khaki jacket with a military pattern. It's a really awful outfit. I grimace just looking at it. I look like I'm in the army.

"I'm not wearing that!"

"Yes, you are. It's in the regulations," she retorts coldly. "I'll give you five minutes to get ready. Then you'll make your bed properly."

"Dream on! I'm not a maid."

"And do you think I am?!" she snaps. "We're not at your service, Batlle. Here, I'm the one in charge. I give an order, and you follow it, period. Is that clear? So now you will listen to me."

I stay silent, taken aback by her tone. I didn't expect to be dealing with this kind of character. She's more authoritative than she appears, or maybe I just didn't see it coming. She yanks my arm again to drag me to the bathroom door. I reluctantly step inside. I'm going to have a bruise soon if she keeps holding me so firmly every time.

"Hurry up. I don't have all day," she snaps.

I slam the door in her face as a response and even go so far as to lock it for some peace. It's the only door with a lock. Maybe I'm annoying her, but she's annoying me even more. She splashed me with water, threw me on the floor, and keeps yelling at me. I get my revenge by taking my time getting ready. If she thinks I'm going to let her push me around! I start by fixing the mess the water made on my face, then brush my teeth. I then put on eyeliner and mascara after applying some cream and foundation. I finish with the hideous sports outfit. I mustn't let myself be intimidated, or I'm done for. I want to get out of here, and I will succeed, even if it means driving her crazy. I take a deep breath while looking at myself in the mirror. I smile, realizing I was right. My T-shirt under the military jacket is slightly too big. They're lucky I like large T-shirts; otherwise, I would have made a fuss. Time to face the tyrant now. If I could, I'd stay locked in. She might be a more formidable enemy than I initially thought. I gather my courage and unlock the door, putting my hands in my pockets. It's not my usual style, but I want to show her I don't care to irritate her further. My plan seems to be working judging by her tense expression.

- Fifteen minutes for that? Seriously?! she scolds me in a bored tone.

- I can take more time if you want... Shall I go back? I suggest mockingly.

- No way, I must be dreaming, she mutters. Hurry up and clean up this mess instead of mocking me! Bingo, I've managed to irritate the little brunette. I hold back my laughter seeing her like this. It's simpler than I thought. Her finger points towards my bed. Now that I pay attention, there's a huge mess. My mattress is on the floor next to my wardrobe, while my quilt is on the other side.

- You did this, and I have to clean it up?

- As far as I know, you didn't get up. I wouldn't have done anything if you had followed the rules. And there she goes again. Does she only know that word? No one ever told me anything. I wasn't even informed there was a curfew and uniforms. So I'm definitely not going to know this damn rule.

- Rules, rules, I mutter. You only have that word in your mouth. How am I supposed to know if no one tells me anything about these damn rules?!

- What do you mean, you don't know anything?

- No one ever told me the rules here. I just arrived yesterday! She remains stoic at my revelation. She seems to be thinking before running her hand through her hair with a sigh.

- Fine, we'll deal with this problem later. In the meantime, keep a low profile and stop talking back.

- I'm not talking back.

- Yes, you are. You just did, and it won't go without consequence. Now, stop being smart and clean up this mess. I won't repeat myself. She points to my bed again with a stern look that doesn't make me want to listen to her at all. Yet she seemed friendly for a second, wanting to help me. Her threats seem serious, so I resign myself to follow her orders, starting with putting the mattress back. I then deal with the quilt, quickly making my bed to get rid of her.

- There. Happy now?

- No. She messes up my bed with a brusque gesture. I can't believe it. She must be messing with me; it can't be otherwise.

- Why did you do that? What's your problem?! I made your damn bed!

- Firstly, as far as I know, it's your bed. Secondly, I told you to make it square, and it was far from it. Thirdly, I've already told you to stop talking back, and especially, don't address me informally! Now do it again.

She doesn't bat an eye. She has incredibly controlled coldness. I regret listening to her. Now she knows she can do it again. I've lost this first battle, but my next attack will be even more terrible. For now, I show her my obedience and remake the bed. It doesn't look much different from before. I just tried to make the quilt neater by smoothing it out. I stand up to show her I'm done. She doesn't even bother to examine it before messing it up again.

- No, stop! It was fine!

- No, I said square. You will redo it until you get it right.

- Damn it! I don't even know what a square bed is!

- That's enough. I've warned you enough. You will immediately tone it down, or things will go very badly between us! A palpable tension arises. She is very intimidating in her stance and severe expressions. I promised myself I would stand up to her, so I must do everything not to look away. I'm supposed to be the queen of the staring contest, but it's hard to hold out against her.

- Do it again, Batlle, she orders.

- But I'm telling you I can't do it! I get angry. If it's just for you to ruin my work again, it's out of the question!

- Then all you need to do is ask. I remain incredulous. I expected a sharp retort. She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. Is she mocking me? No way I'm asking her for help! I've never asked anyone for anything, and I'm not starting with her. I've always been free to do as I please. I'm not used to being given orders, let alone asking for help. I quickly had to learn to manage on my own. I bite my cheek as I look at the quilt on the floor. This time it's different. I have no choice but to ask. I don't know how to do it, and she has remarkable composure and patience. She will certainly not be the first to give up. My throat tightens just thinking about the words I'm going to have to say to her.

- Help me...

- Can you teach me how to make a square bed, please? she reformulates.

- Can you teach me how to make a square bed, please? I repeat.

- Come here, she says. I approach her to reach the foot of the bed.

- Redo it. I look at her incredulously. She rolls her eyes at my immobility.

- Come on, do it. I'll guide you. Understanding better, I comply. She takes her time explaining each fold to make and corrects me when I'm wrong. Finally, I realize it's not that complicated. It's just going to be annoying to have to

do it every morning as she just announced. I stand up and proudly observe my work when I'm done. It was short-lived as she undoes it again without hesitation. My blood boils quickly.

- You had no right! It was just how you wanted it!

- I want you to do it all by yourself, she says calmly. I just told you you'll have to do it every morning, so I want to make sure you can do it without my help. It's by doing it again that you learn, right? I roll my eyes. At least she didn't yell at me this time. I control myself and redo my bed the same way. I succeeded, but it's not as perfect as before. I look at her, waiting for her opinion. She doesn't seem angry or anything.

- There you go. I sigh in relief. Phew! I would have been very upset if she had undone it again.

- Can I go eat now?

- You should have gotten up in time for that. The service time is over.

- You're not going to do this to me? It's not my fault I barely slept last night! Breakfast is sacred; you can't take it away from me!

- I will, believe me. Think about it tomorrow morning; it might motivate you to get up. In the meantime, I have other plans for you anyway.

- Oh yeah...? I ask, uncertain.

- Yes. You and I won't be parting ways this morning.

- Aren't I supposed to go to class?

- I'm excusing you. I'm your supervisor, which means I have full authority over you. If I decide you're not going to class, that's my prerogative.

- Basically, you're my hierarchical priority.

- Exactly. Me and, of course, the principal. Other instructors are instructed to send you to me in case of any issues with you. I'm going to be the person you'll spend the most time with in the coming days.

- What luck, I say ironically.

- I think so too. Follow me now, we're going out. I miss classes, what more could I ask for? I'm wary of her intentions. I don't know her yet, but I've already seen her capabilities, and she's not one to joke around. I follow her through the hallways and stairs. She seems to know exactly where we're going. I understand the need for the jacket once outside. It's much colder than in Miami. I must not be used to it because my supervisor doesn't seem bothered by the weather. Her accent doesn't come from here, though. We're heading away from the dorms. I slow down when I realize her intentions at the sight of the gymnasium and sports fields. I don't think and turn around behind her back. I thought I could sneak away until a firm hand catches me in my tracks. I instinctively close my eyes at the contact. Damn! I should have left when I had

the chance! I try to struggle, but it's no use. She increases the pressure on my arm and drags me with her by force.

- You won't escape, Batlle.

- Damn it! I did everything you asked! She stops suddenly, making me bump into her before she turns around. I look up to meet her eyes. Bad idea... She scares me even more than before. I can't step back more than a step due to her grip.

- Yes, you did, but you mostly talked back and addressed me informally. I'm not your friend, okay? I warned you to stop, and you didn't listen.

- I won't do it again...

- Oh no, that's too easy! We both know you'll do it again. If I punish you, it's so you'll think twice next time.

- I promise I won't do it again! I say in a too confident tone.

- And yet you're continuing, she raises an eyebrow. I want to retort, but I have no argument. I'm talking back and addressing her informally. Damn, she annoys me! It's not my fault she's young and beautiful! I would have preferred to deal with someone ugly and old. At least I wouldn't have trouble seeing her as my supervisor.

- Okay, the informal address is going to be tough, but-

- But what? she cuts me off. You're breaking both things I just told you. Not only are you addressing me informally, but you're also talking back and now negotiating?

- Sorry, I grumble, powerless.

- When I tell you to do something, you do it and stay quiet, period. Do we agree?

- I guess, since I have no choice.

- Fine. She continues on her way, still dragging me along. If it were up to me, I would break free, but I'm not sure she would appreciate that. At least she's loosened her grip. Just enough that I can't escape. She must be the devil incarnate to be ready to do what she's about to do! She makes me lose all my means and defenses. She's trying to unsettle me with her harsh, angry voice. It will be difficult to contradict her because her tactic is working. She will eat me alive and win if I let her. This wasn't at all in my plans. All I want is to get out of here. I fully intend to do so, with or without her on my back. She won't stop me from going home. We're approaching the grassy field. Doesn't she know it's cold? She releases me once we reach the middle of the field. I look around us. From here, you can see the entire camp space until it's bordered by the stone walls. On the other side, the gym blocks the view of the back. I wanted to turn around to see the buildings behind me, but the snap of fingers in front of my nose dissuades me and brings me back to reality. I refocus my gaze on my supervisor, who is waiting for me.

- You are going to do ten laps of the field.

- Ten laps of the field? Are you kidding me? I scoff.

- Hurry up. We'll stay here until you've done them all. Don't even think about leaving; I'll catch you before you make it.

- That's way too much, ten laps! Do you want my death on your conscience or what?

- Do you want fifteen maybe? I stay silent. She is capable of increasing the amount if I continue. I head to the edge of the field she indicates, not forgetting to sigh and drag my feet. I can't believe what I'm about to do, but I have no choice. She made it clear that there's no way out. If I start running, there's a good chance she'll catch me in no time if she's a bit enduring. I'm far from being an athlete, and on top of that, she has the home advantage. I don't know the camp well enough to hide somewhere. I could get lost or end up in a dead end by mistake. The worst part of this punishment is that she's watching me from her spot with her arms crossed. As if it wasn't already humiliating enough, she has to supervise me, showing her superiority. I stop after half a lap. I'm completely out of breath. I'm not enduring; it was to be expected. I haven't exercised in at least three years. I try to walk, but even that is difficult.

- Hey, don't stop, she yells from the middle of the field. I said run, not walk!

- Let me breathe, damn it! I manage to shout between breaths. This time I stop. I bend forward to rest my hands on my thighs. It's so cold that steam is coming out of my mouth. I thought it couldn't get worse, but I start feeling raindrops. This is hell! I will never get used to Manchester. I'm almost sure it's sunny in Barcelona. Plus, I'm certain she'll make me keep running in the rain. She made it clear we won't move until I'm done. We might be here for a long time given how long I'll take. My breathing is far from normal. My heart is pounding, I have a stitch in my side, and to top it all, I'm sleep-deprived, which doesn't help. When I open my eyes, I see a second pair of combat boots in front of me. A few seconds later, a hand rests on my shoulder.

Straighten up. What now? I manage to say. Can't I even breathe? She places her other hand on my other shoulder. I'm so weak that I don't resist when she pulls me up. Her green eyes are examining me. My condition hasn't improved, and I can't change it. Don't expect better from a former smoker.

- Calm down. Of course you can breathe, but not by bending over. Your body needs to be straight to catch your breath better.

Her hand touches my skin above my chest. It's warm, unlike my body. Her other hand still holds me so I don't literally collapse on her. I close my eyes to enjoy this moment of respite and regain my strength. My supervisor asks me to focus on my breathing and her hand following my body's movements. Then she sets a rhythm of inhaling and exhaling out loud. I focus solely on her voice, and I must admit it's effective. She only lets go once she's sure I'm better.- Good, now keep running.

- Can't you see I'm not able to? And it's starting to rain!

- Of course you can, and it's just a few drops. The cloud is already passing.

- Please, I barely did half a lap, and I'm completely dead! How do you expect me to do ten? At least lower the number!

- No, I stick to ten. We have all the time, you have until noon. Stop when you can't go on, and I'll help you. You'll face this sanction more than once from me, so you might as well get used to it now. I grumble to myself at the edge of the field while she returns to her spot. To think I'll have to deal with her in the coming days. I'll die if she orders me to do laps every time. I'm already at the end of my rope now. What will it be like in the end? I sigh before forcing myself to resume running to get this nonsense over with as quickly as possible.

Tuesday, October 6; 12:30 PM - Cafeteria

I'm sprawled out like a pancake on the table. I finished my entire meal. It wasn't very good, but I needed it. My stomach was growling from my punishment and my missed breakfast. At least my supervisor was a bit kind. After my laps around the field, she took me to the cafeteria and got us each a chocolate croissant. I think she felt sorry for my stomach, which was growling loudly after my exercise that ended around nine. We stayed on the field for two hours because of me. I'm exhausted; she completely wore me out. "Are you going to be okay?" Pina asks me. "You don't look well." "Yeah," I mumble into my arms. I lift my head to see that I'm the focus of the table's attention. Do I look so terrible that they have to stare at me like that? I don't need their pity; I hate it. "What?" I snap, more sharply than I intended. "You haven't said anything since we started, and you weren't even in class this morning... It's enough to make anyone worry!" Alexia says. "Where were you this morning, anyway?" I ask. "You weren't in the room when I woke up." "Engen sent me to eat after I told her you were the new girl. She said she'd take care of you; there wasn't much else I could do," she explains. "I'm sorry, but I tried shaking you awake and you wouldn't budge!" I can't blame her. She did her best to wake me up. I sleep heavily, and I'm stubborn when it comes to getting out of bed. If I don't wake up on my own, someone has to jump on me like Joan does, or they have to use the radical method my supervisor employs. I realize that Alexia finally gave me her name. So, she's called Engen? She's a real viper. Speaking of her, she passes by the table right now. I glare at her. I follow her with my eyes as she heads to the line to dispose of her tray. I absolutely have to find a way to get back at her. If I don't, she'll eat me alive, and that's not what I want. I don't want to become a well-behaved student who follows all the rules. That's not me. "Is she one of your supervisors?" Patri asks me. "Yeah, the one on the right," I reply, turning back to the table. "Why?" "Ouch, you hit the jackpot," Leah laughs. "Why?"

"Let's just say she's the worst instructor here. You must have quite a file if Wiegman assigned her to you!" Alba comments.

Her, the worst? She's the youngest employee I've seen so far! Her and her companion. Given what happened this morning, I can believe it. I turn to look at her again. I underestimated her. She's not just some young, insignificant staff member... She's the worst. My mother is certainly behind this. She finishes placing her tray and our eyes meet while she waits for her colleague. Oh, the bitch! She smiles at me! She's mocking me! She must be proud to see me crumpled on the table. If she wants a war, she’ll get one! I let her win one battle, but I won’t let her win the next ones. I turn back to the table. I need to know more about her. I need to know everything, or I'm in big trouble.

"What do you know about her?" I ask.

"Her name is Bronze," Lotte informs me.

"I thought it was Engen? At least, that's who woke me up this morning!"

"No," Alexia laughs. "Engen is the one who accompanies her. She’s in charge of checking the senior floor in the morning. They’re partners, so they’re almost always together."

I try to process this new information. I saw Engen this morning. They share an office for the two of them. It makes more sense now that I know they’re partners.

"If Bronze was assigned as your supervisor, Engen probably called her," Leah says. "Everyone gets an assigned supervisor when they arrive. They’re the only person who takes care of us until we adjust," she explains. "Unless they're not available, which is very rare."

"Let me guess... Bronze is never absent?"

"Very rarely," Patri laughs. "I think it happened once in the three years we've been here."

"Great..." I sigh. "So, you all had a supervisor?"

"When we arrived two and a half years ago, yes," Alba responds. "I had Bright. She’s the second partner who supervises our year along with White."

"I don't know them," I admit.

"It’s our third and final year here, so it’s normal that we know all the rules and people," Lotte says. "You’ll get used to it, don’t worry."

"I don’t plan on getting used to it."

"You won’t have a choice with Bronze," Leah chuckles. "I told you we could outwit the instructors, but not the Commander."

"The Commander?" "That's her nickname here," she tells me. "No one can contradict her, not even me." "Well, I'll be the first then."

"Impossible, I’m telling you! Every trick I've found for the others doesn’t work with her! She always... I mean always, has a move ahead of us."

I groan in frustration, letting myself fall back onto the table. Bronze is indeed a demon incarnate. I need to be even more cunning than Leah. It’s very complicated, maybe even impossible.

"Is there anything else I need to know about her, besides the fact that she’s going to make my life a living hell?" I grumble.

"I don't think so," Alba replies. "The instructors don’t talk about their lives. They’re very secretive about it. We don't even know the first names of the new ones."

"Why is that?" "The rules were tightened two years before we arrived." "Okay. So Bronze is the worst?" "The worst of all," Pina confirms. "If we get stuck with her, it’s never a good sign."

So, they’ve figured out that I'm not here for nothing. Fortunately, it’s a taboo topic here. At least I won't be pressured to open up. I like them, but not enough to confide in them when I barely do that with my best friend. I hate my mother, I hate this place. She managed to cut me off from the world. She doesn't understand that I don't want to be anyone's puppet. I just want to be left alone, but that seems like too much to ask. We leave when we’re all done. The stress starts to build as I realize that my first day is approaching. Bronze kept me with her to help with the archiving. I had to go up and down stairs with her, carrying big cardboard boxes. As if the field laps weren’t enough. My legs are jelly because of her. I hope she at least made arrangements with the teachers for this morning. I think she did, but who knows. I sigh as the bell rings. I barely had time to recover from my morning, and now the afternoon is starting. Here’s hoping everything goes well this time.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #barca femeni #ona batlle #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #leah williamson #alexia putellas #ona batlle x lucy bronze

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ya9amicide · 2 years ago

Text

Redamancy [BTS]

chapter one

♡ info ♡ k-pop masterlist ♡ next chapter ♡

summary: Hybrids were accepted in society to a certain degree. To some, they are for entertainment. Used as sex and money tools. To lock up and abuse whenever and however they please. Something to have control over. To others, they are companions. Just like regular animals are used for therapy or simply companionship, hybrids are too.

To the rest, they are just like everyone else. Someone with their own life who deserves the same freedoms as your everyday John or Jane Doe. Wren is one of these people. She hates the idea of owning a hybrid. She has nothing against those who own them for medical or companionship reasons. Just the rest.

But, when a ragtag pack of seven mismatched hybrids somehow ends up in the woods behind her home, she takes them in and does the one thing she never thought she would do. Own them. But, she also does something she didn't even think was possible. She fell in love with each and every one of them.

pairing(s): ot7 x ot7, ot7 x oc

warnings: none

Most hybrids come from Asian countries because of the ethereal beauty they possess. For most, that is the only asset that keeps them alive. The way most of these hybrids end up in other countries is if they are sold to someone and brought there. Now, the entire world has hybrids mixed into its population.

Being a writer, I always get asked why I haven't written anything about hybrids. For a fantasy writer, it's like the jackpot of writing material considering they actually exist and all the information I would need is right at my fingertips if I want it to be.

It's just something that never sat right with me. I don't know everything and the only way to know everything is to speak to one myself. I don't own a hybrid. I won't own a hybrid. I have nothing against people who own them as long as they are treating them with care. But, I just don't feel comfortable interrogating someone for the purpose of a story.

Hybrids have very unique, very personal aspects to their lives that other people don't have. It would be like asking the deepest most personal questions about someone's life. It's unfathomably uncomfortable.

Luckily, I can escape the demands for hybrid content when I'm teaching. Teaching Greek mythology to college students has its perks in that regard. Which, leads me to where I am now, wrapping up my lecture for the day.

"Alright everyone, don't forget your homework for the weekend." Some students groan at the back of the room. I stand from behind my desk, walking around to the front where I lean against it with my hip. "Yes, yes, I know. Just be thankful you get a whole weekend for it, your other professors probably wouldn't be so nice. Now, any questions?"

Two hands raise in the air and I call on the first one to come up. "How many sources did we need to cite again?"

"At least three," I say. "You can use more if you'd like, I have no issue with that. However, I hope I don't need to remind you which types of websites aren't credible sources?"

Everyone shakes their heads and I nod, calling on the next person. "Will there be any time to come in to ask questions about our papers before Monday?"

"To come in, no. Unfortunately not. However, if you'd like you can email me with any questions you have or just send me a draft and I can read it for you and give you feedback that way. I will try to get back to you asap if I can. Just please do not email me Monday morning or late Sunday night as I will be asleep and it will be too late for you."

When I finish speaking everyone shuffles in their seats. "Any more questions?" When nobody else speaks up, I lean upright from my position in front of my desk. "If that's all then you are all free to go. Have a good weekend." I receive goodbyes from almost every student as they leave. Once the last one does, I shuffle all of my belongings together and leave the room, locking the door.

On my way home, it starts to rain. It's been in the forecast all week but it was only supposed to be a slight drizzle. This, however, is a torrential downpour. Pulling into my driveway and parking, I brace myself to make a run for it. There's no way I won't get drenched.

Walking inside, I toe off my shoes and drop my things by the door before going upstairs to change into warm and comfy clothes for the evening. Walking into the kitchen for food, I pass the large, sliding glass doors that lead to my backyard and the woods behind my house.

Cereal for dinner sounds good. With a bowl of dry cereal in one hand and a glass of milk in the other, I make my way to the living room. On the way, I pass by the glass door again. Lighting strikes, lighting up the yard and the woods in the distance. In the treeline, I almost swear I can see an animal. It's not super big, but it's not small either. Surprisingly, even with the woods bordering my house, not many animals make their way out. so, seeing one now is slightly odd.

I set my food down on the coffee table and move back to the kitchen, making a plate of food for...whatever is out there. If it's in the woods in a storm like this, it must be hungry. Sliding open the glass door, I set the plate down on the porch under the awning and move back inside where I sit on the couch with my own food and the tv playing in front of me.

I'm around two episodes into the show I was watching when I hear footsteps on the back porch. They're small but loud enough for me to hear through the rain which has settled down into a soft drizzle. Standing, I make my way to the door, trying to keep my steps light and my posture open so whatever is out there doesn't feel threatened by me.

When I'm close enough to see what it is, I find a German Shepherd right before it shifts and a man is left in its place. My hand reaches out for the door handle when he sees me. His eyes widen and he scrambles to pocket all of the food and make a run for the woods.

I quickly open the door trying to stop him. "Wait, please! You don't have to go." He freezes in his steps, halfway off the porch. "I- I can give you more food if that isn't enough. And some water too if you want?" He's thin and pale and shaking like a leaf where he stands. "Please?" My voice is soft, I'm afraid if I speak too loud he'll run away. "I just want to help."

It feels like we stare at each other for hours before he nods his head, barely enough for me to see but it's still a nod. "Okay, okay that's good," I say and lead him inside. "Let me get you a towel so you can dry off, you must be cold." I don't wait for him to respond before I rush off to get it. When I come back, he's in the same spot I left him.

"Here," I hand him the towel and watch as he wraps it around himself. Slowly, his shivering starts to calm down. "Do you have any preferences?"

He looks at me strangely, head tilting to the side. The ears on the top of his head flop to the side softly, the fur wet. "To eat? Is there anything in particular you want? Anything I should avoid?" He seems to take a minute to process what I asked him before he slowly shakes his head. "Okay. You can um...you can come wait in the kitchen while I get you something if you want."

He timidly walks in behind me and watches everything I do. I decided on soup. Hopefully, the warmth from the food would make him feel better. "Is it just you?" I ask timidly.

"No," he says softly after some hesitation.

"Are- are they close? Whoever you're with?"

"Yes."

I pause what I'm doing. Maybe I should make more soup..."How many of you are there?" How much food am I going to need to make?

He shifts uncomfortably. "Seven. Including me."

"Do they want to come in? You can invite them if you want." I avoid looking at him, continuing to make more food.

"What?" He sounds surprised and wary.

"Only if you want. I mean," I stop and chuckle slightly, "seven versus one? If I were to try anything, which I won't, I think you all have the advantage. Don't you think?"

He waited for a few minutes, probably trying to see if I was pulling his leg. "Okay." He slowly makes his way to the sliding door, I can feel his eyes on me, keeping me in his sight. Leaving the door open, he shifts back into a German Shepherd and lets out a loud howl towards the forest. Anything else beyond that, I don't hear because of the volume of the storm raging outside. It was around 15 minutes before he came back inside, several pairs of footsteps shuffling in behind him.

I freeze, gently putting down what was in my hands before slowly turning to face the group of hybrids in my home.

#𐙚 sfw !#bts #poly bts x reader #hybrid bts #poly bts #bts x oc #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimim #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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cupofsapphics · 1 year ago

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The Coffee Shop

[ melissa schemmenti x reader ]

warning(s): none

summary: a new coffee shop opened near abbott and something, or rather someone, keeps a redhead coming back

a/n: feeding you guys one fic a year is so generous, right? right?? also forgive me you guys, it's been a while since i wrote... so mel might be a bit ooc

word count: 1.7k

Mondays were always a pain for the staff at Abbott. Work to catch up on, plan lessons, and more. Just like every other morning, Janine walked into the room with a bright smile. “Guys, did you hear about the new coffee shop that opened down the road?”

Barbara gave her a glance and shook her head. “I’m satisfied with my regular coffee.”

Ava suddenly bursts through the door. “Girl, no wonder you always be lookin’ so miserable. That new place serves one hell of a coffee, y'all should try.” She grins as she puts countless spoons of sugar into her coffee.

Barbara and Melissa shared a skeptical look before getting up to go set up their classrooms for the incoming kids. Undeterred, Janine turned to Jacob “I’m thinking of checking it out tomorrow, do you wanna come?”

“I’d be happy to, I’ve been planning to go over there anyway.” Jacob gushes.

The next morning, the two pulled the door open to the shop and were taken aback by the sight before them. Compared to the frigid air outside, the cafe felt welcoming. The walls were plain white, but many paintings adorned them. Strings of warm lights hung from the ceiling, inviting passersby to sit and relax. You just opened the cafe a mere 15 minutes ago and the ring of your doorbell caught your attention as you were cleaning the counter.

“Hi! Welcome to my cafe, what can I get you?” You beamed as you leaned on the counter with both of your arms. Business has been slow ever since you started the shop, so it was nice to see people come in.

“Just a cappuccino, please,” the woman says excitedly and moves to sit down at one of the tables. You nodded and turned to her friend to find him staring at cookies, donuts, croissants, and muffins through the glass. You clear your throat and his attention redirects back to you as he orders quickly to join his friend at the table. You quickly get to work and start preparing.

You approach them, with the two drinks and snack in hand. Putting them on the table, you ask, “Are you guys from the school across from here? I don’t get a lot of customers, so it would make sense if you guys work nearby.” They take a sip as they listen to your inquiries and their eyes widen as they drink more.

“Yeah, we’re from Abbott, the school just across from here. I’m sorry, but I just got to say, this coffee is absolutely amazing,” Janine rapidly finishes as she drinks more. You hear a muffle from her companion, which you could make out was along the lines of, “I know right.” You let out a light chuckle. The woman sticks her hand out and says, “By the way, my name’s Janine, and my friend over there is Jacob.” At the mention of his name, Jacob pauses from eating to give you a small wave.

“Nice to meet you guys, I’m Y/N.”

Janine and Jacob talked to you for a few more minutes before they had to go back to prepare for their classes. They promised to come here as often as they could for their coffee. Over the course of a few weeks, you became good friends with both of them and often joined them for meetups outside of work.

You got a call from Janine about a week ago about having some drinks and snacks out for the staff at Abbott to enjoy. She asked if you could provide them and bring them over. “I’m sorry if this is kind of last minute,” she says nervously. “It’s okay, Janine. I’ll bring them over next Monday,” you replied reassuringly.

Monday came quickly and before you knew it, you found yourself in front of Abbott Elementary with armfuls of coffee and food. Scrambling to the counter, you ask the person in the front for a pass (Janine said you needed one) and made your way towards the staff room. There were already a good amount of teachers chatting amongst themselves. Janine made her way up to you as she took the boxes off your hands and set them on one of the tables. “Everyone, this is Y/N. She owns the coffee shop across from the school and was kind enough to bring us some coffee and food to get through the morning!” Janine rambles eagerly.

Everyone’s eyes were on you as you gave a small wave and started to hand out some coffee. You let your eyes drift to a redhead with glasses focused on grading some papers. Noticing no coffee next to her, you made your way toward the table and gently put down a cup next to her. The sound made Melissa look up, preparing to give a cold response. However, she was surprised to find a sweet and unfamiliar face.

Not expecting her eyes to look so mesmerizing, you practically stutter out, “Hi, I noticed you didn’t have any coffee cup next to you, so I just wanted to give you one.” Melissa blinked for few times, not used to kind gestures from strangers, let alone pretty ones. She didn’t reply until Barbara elbowed her side and she jolted back into reality. “Thanks for the coffee, sweetheart,” she murmured. You could feel your face turning beet red at the nickname as you nod slowly and make your way back to the table where Janine sat.

Melissa smirked at your reaction, watching you turn and walk toward Janine’s table. In the corner of her eye, she saw her friend shaking her head. “Melissa Schemmenti, you sure are something,” Barbara states as she returned to her morning crossword. The redhead shrugged. She already had her coffee for the morning, but she wouldn’t mind another one if it came from you.

Taking a sip of her new coffee, Melissa paused, licked her lips, and turned to Barbara. “Oh my god, this coffee is unbelievable.” Her friend raised an eyebrow as she took another sip. Melissa thought that it was about time she paid a visit to the coffee shop across the street.

It was a busy morning for you. Your alarm didn’t go off and when you got to the cafe, you found the sink in the back having some issues. You were scrambling to fix the pipes somehow when you hear the doorbell ring. Panicking, you quickly made sure there would be no leaks and stood up, moving to wash your hands. “Hi, welcome to the cafe! Give me one second and I’ll be right with you,” you said promptly. You came out to the front but slowed down when you recognized who it was waiting to order. There she was in all her glory with her leather jacket and fiery hair. Realizing you’re still at work, you snap out of it. “What can I get you?” You lean on the counter waiting for her order.

Approaching the table, you handed the captivating woman her coffee and felt the redhead’s hand brush against yours. Your face was painted with a light blush, causing the woman to grin. “What’s your name, hon?” God, this woman was going to kill you.

“The name’s Y/N. Nice to finally know the name of the gorgeous lady I saw the other day,” you replied. You weren’t sure where this confidence came from, but those questions disappeared when you witnessed her eyes widen at the unexpected answer. The moment was quick though, for she recovered and quipped back, “Well, nice to meet you Y/N. The name’s Melissa. What’s a pretty girl like you doing working in a coffee shop?”

From then on, Melissa came every morning before her classes started. It didn’t matter the circumstances: rain, hail, shine, snow, she would still be there every single morning chatting away with you. She said that it was because the coffee there was just unmatched by any she’s had anywhere else. You’d like to believe that if it weren’t for the fact that you two exchanged flirtatious remarks every single day.

Another dreaded Monday came for everyone and it became a regular sight to see Melissa walking into the staff room with a coffee from the shop across the street. The redhead sat down in her usual place next to Barbara who glanced at the coffee but said nothing. Everyone was wondering the same thing, but no one wanted to say it. Janine, brave as ever, decided to break the silence. “So… you must really like the coffee from the shop that Y/N runs right?” Melissa looks at Janine and then proceeds to look at the coffee cup. A soft smile appears on her face as her thoughts drift to you and all the moments the two of you shared over the past month or two. “Hello, earth to Melissa!” Janine says with a confused expression.

Melissa looks back up at Janine. “Yea, she makes the best coffee I’ve had in a while,” she says hastily as she goes back to her grading. Jacob turns away from Melissa to mutter to Janine and Gregory. “The coffee’s not the only thing that Melissa keeps going back for..” Gregory snorted as Janine tried her best not to laugh.

Melissa heard what Jacob said and she thought about it for the entire day. Sure, the coffee was amazing, but it definitely wasn’t the real motivation for coming to the cafe every single day. Melissa finally came to the realization that Jacob was right. The next morning, the redhead practically barged through the door and walked towards you. The sudden impact of the door startled you as you see Melissa coming towards you with an unreadable expression. You couldn’t help but feel nervous as she rounds the counter and kisses you. To say you were caught off guard would be an understatement, but not wanting to give the wrong impression, you kissed her back. After what seemed like forever, both of you pulled away and a comfortable silence filled the room.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” Melissa let out a light chuckle before deciding to respond. “What do you say to dinner at my place tonight, hon?” The smile you offer her gives Melissa the answer she’s looking for.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti imagine #abbot elementary imagine #lisa ann walter

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dollywheeler · 6 months ago

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October 23th, 1996

Dear diary,

Let’s see - the last few days have kind of been a blur.

I don’t think I did anything particularly interesting, just following my routine - same old same old. I had to spend all of Sunday catching up on my homework, so nothing special happened there. Mike let me take his old guitar home, though, and the reading for English class is going a lot better now I can alternate chapters of Walden with a moment of playing music. My Oasis tape has been running non-stop.

Cheer practice is going fine - the routines are a bit easier now so I’m having less trouble. I try to practice the harder ones as often as possible, but I still haven’t found a solution for practicing the jumps on my own.

Oh! I almost forgot - On Sunday, I watched Dracula! Danny recommended it and I wanted to watch something while finishing my homework. It was too good - I had to pause it and rush to finish my homework so I could watch it properly; This is exactly why I usually play something I’ve already seen.

I wish we could have watched it together though, but we’ve both been so busy we’ve barely had the chance to spend time together. Whenever he doesn’t have basketbal practice, I have cheer or babysitting, or he has to work at the diner. Mrs. Benson is doing a lot better, at least, so I don’t have to go over as often. Danny joins us for lunch most days, though, and I try to come to the diner as much as possible - it’s nice, just being able to talk to him, even if it’s in snippets between him serving the other customers. Christy doesn’t seem to mind it too much, either, as long as Danny doesn’t leave anyone waiting for too long.

Still, I hope we can go on an actual date again soon.

Mom already hinted at having him over for dinner and I’m… Not sure how to feel about that.

I mean, Danny’s great and I’m sure Dad will like him - I already know mom does because she can’t stop raving about our homecoming pictures. She went to pick them up from the developer on Monday and though I do look terrible in a lot of them, there’s some really cool pictures as well - ANYWAY, what I was trying to say (write? Whatever) was that it feels weird to have him over for dinner with the family.

I was too young to remember the first time Jonathan joined us for dinner - if he ever did before they both went off to college - so it’s not like I can look to my older sister for an example.

Lord knows Mike never brought a girl home.

What I’m trying to say is - I have no idea how Mom and Dad are gong to act. Especially dad - there’s a big enough gap between me and Nancy that I’m sure dad is going to have to get used to his daughter dating all over again.

I might call Nancy and ask for advice - if she has the time, of course. She’s so busy lately running all over the place. When I called on Saturday she said they’d be coming back to the US on Tuesday, but it wouldn’t be the first time their stay got extended. I’ll probably just wait on her to call over the weekend, just in case.

I don’t know what else to write about really, but I’m at the diner and a table in the back is staring at me. I don’t know why - I know their faces but not their names. Pretty sure one used to be the school’s librarian before he retired a few years ago. I see him and the woman he’s talking to around town sometimes, walking dogs, or here at the diner drinking coffee and gossiping as they are now. Most residents always follow everything going on around them, and I’m sure they recognise me in turn from seeing me around one too many times, but today I swear they’ve been looking at me specifically for way too long.

So, I took out my diary and started writing so it seems like I’m not bothered and can’t hear what they’re saying.

It’s strangely unsettling. I don’t know - they seem judgemental, and I feel judged, though for the life of me I can’t figure out why. I’m not doing anything different. I don’t look anything different - I’m not wearing anything special. Sure, I’ve been talking to Danny a lot because it’s so calm today, but it’s not like we’re being particularly loud.

Pretty sure I just heard them say “the Byers kid” - which is strange, because a, I’m not a Byers, and b, I’m not my brother - hell, we don’t even look alike.

I didn’t even realise they knew who I was, let alone who my brother’s friends are. Anyway, it’s weird how hung-up they are about Mike and Will’s return to Hawkins - I mean, it’s been more than two months, and they were only gone for - what? Seven? Ish? Years? I don’t even know.

I guess that’s the one downfall from living in a small town.

Most of the time it’s an advantage - like havig to go to the post office during the summer and getting to chat with Dylan while she works, or feeling completely at home in a diner because you know every face there. It’s nice knowing your neighbours and your neighbour’s neighbours in turn.

Like last week, with Mrs. Benson, I heard soooo many stories about the people around town. And sure, it’s gossip which isn’t always nice, but more often than not it’s just keeping everyone updated. It’s how we all show we care - how else would Mom know who’s in desperate need of a casserole or a plate of cookies?

That sounds like a hyperbole or whatever - Mike would probably know the perfect term - but it’s more relevant than one might think.

Plenty people don’t know to ask for help - like Mrs. Benson - and they’re just waiting on people to offer it.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from mom, is that more often than not overbearing is just bearing enough.

Anyway, Daniel and his mom are new to town too, but no one’s talking about that anymore either. Now I think about it, it is weird that people seem more hung-up about them than Danny. I mean, Danny and his mom are total outsiders - even if they only came from a few towns over - but at least Mike and Will are known strangers. They came back, which isn’t unheard of.

Mr. Howard, our PE teacher, for example, moved back in his thirties to take care of his ailing father. His father is still kicking around, by the by, even though he’s been back for almost twenty years now. Anyway, even though he’d been gone for seventeen years, everyone acted like he’d simply never left.

Max’ mom, on the other hand, still often gets reminded that she’s not from here, though it’s less obvious because the residents of the trailer park are used to people coming and going more than Suburbians, and also because she at least was here for ’86.

Now I think about it, it’s bothering me more and more.

I’ve always felt like I’m missing something - it’s often clear mom and Mike are talking around me - but I always just assumed it’s them being weird about Mike’s degree. That’s the one thing dad brings up sometimes when it’s about Mike, right before mom sends him a warning glare with pointed eyes at me. I don’t know - I get dad wanted us to do something practical, or at least, Mike, because dad has plenty of opinions on Nancy’s career as well. But he’s from a previous time, and honestly why Nancy wants to work so bad, I don’t understand.

Anyway, this took a turn.

I really keep getting carried away with these things.

The people are still there, but they seemed to have moved on conversationally, and it’s about time I head home anyway. I’m just going to say goodbye to Daniel and get going so I’m back in time for dinner.

Love, Holly

#holly wheeler #the third wheeler #mike wheeler #stranger things #fanfic #byler #will byers #ttw #st

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 2 months ago

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Possession: a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley x Jimmy Uso fanfic.

Chapter 2: New Gear

The morning sun spilled into the hotel room, casting a warm glow that mingled with the soft sounds of the bustling city that is Houston below. Jimmy sat on the balcony, an iPad perched on his lap, surrounded by the gentle breeze that rushed through his body. His fingers danced across the screen as he sketched out designs, a mix of excitement and uncertainty swirling within him.

He sipped his coffee, the rich aroma grounding him as he looked out at the horizon, deep in thought. Rhea was still sleeping inside, her peaceful face oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions that had gripped them both since Jey’s injury. Jimmy wanted to lift her spirits, to help her find a new identity in the ring that was distinctly her own. But each doodle he created felt lackluster, like shadows of what could be.

Then, an idea sparked. He switched apps and began pulling pictures from Google, gathering inspiration and crafting a vision that merged their styles. His creativity was a gift he shared with Rhea, and he wanted to make something special for her—a reflection of her strength and individuality.

Once he finished, he couldn’t help but smile at the design. It was bold, vibrant, and a perfect blend of their personas. He made his way back inside, a sense of purpose driving him as he approached Rhea, still lost in slumber.

“Hey, Rhea,” he whispered, gently nudging her shoulder. She stirred, a frown crossing her features as she opened her eyes, still wrapped in dreams.

“Wha—?” she murmured, clearly annoyed at being woken up.

“I have an idea!” Jimmy exclaimed, a hint of excitement in his voice. He held out the iPad, showing her the designs.

Rhea blinked at the screen, her expression shifting from grogginess to curiosity. “What’s this?”

Jimmy leaned closer, his enthusiasm bubbling over. “I know you’re still sad about Jey not being here, and I’m not trying to replace him, but I thought we should separate ourselves a bit. I don’t want to live in his shadow or anything, you know? I think changing our gear could be a good step.”

Rhea studied the iPad intently, her interest piqued. Jimmy continued, pointing out the details. “So, I have a ton of leftover Uso Penitentiary bandanas. What I’m thinking is I can sew these bandanas into a crop top for you. Then, for this mini skirt, I could add more bandanas to give you some coverage. You can wear one over your mouth, and I’ll wear mine too. Then add some red fishnets and your wrestling boots. I even thought about these harnesses—one for your chest and one for your leg right here.”

As she absorbed his words, Rhea’s surprise began to morph into excitement. The red color scheme was a stark departure from the blue and black she had worn with Jey, a change that felt empowering. “I actually really like this,” she admitted, a smile breaking through the remnants of sleep. “It’s different and really unique.”

Jimmy grinned, the weight of uncertainty lifting. “I knew you’d like it. We can make this our thing. Let’s show the world what we can do as a team.”

Rhea’s eyes sparkled with newfound determination.

“How many bandanas you have in your suitcase?”

With that, the two of them sat together, pouring over the designs and making plans. The morning sun was brighter than before, illuminating a fresh path for both of them, one where they could embrace their identities while honoring the bond they shared with Jey.

As they sketched and laughed, the shadows of doubt began to fade, replaced by the vibrant colors of their future—together in the ring, ready to conquer whatever lay ahead.

The hours slipped by in a comfortable rhythm, the low hum of the portable sewing machine and their shared laughter filling the hotel room as Rhea and Jimmy worked on their new ring gear. They had only left once, a brief outing to a nearby fabric store, where they gathered the materials they needed for Monday’s debut of their fresh look. Now, surrounded by scraps of bandanas and threads, they were fully engrossed in bringing their vision to life.

Jimmy was focused on the mini skirt, meticulously sewing the bandana patches to ensure everything was just right. Meanwhile, Rhea sat across from him, threading pieces of the bandanas into his pants, occasionally pausing to check the design with a critical eye. They worked in tandem, an unspoken connection growing between them as they shared in the creative process.

Jimmy couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride each time he looked up and saw Rhea immersed in his design. He’d half-expected her to brush off the idea or make a few changes, but instead, she had embraced it completely. Her confidence in his vision stirred something deep inside him, a mix of satisfaction and something… more.

“Hey, can you try this on?” Jimmy asked, handing her the mini skirt he’d been working on.

Rhea raised a brow but shrugged, taking the skirt from him and standing to slip it on. As she adjusted the waistband, Jimmy couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on her, his eyes tracing the smooth line of her legs, the way her skin seemed to glow even under the dim hotel lighting. Every glimpse of her bare skin sent a jolt through him, stirring feelings he hadn’t anticipated.

He tried to focus on the work, to keep his attention on the details of the gear, but each time she moved, each time she laughed or offered him a small smile, he felt his resolve slipping. It was more than just physical attraction. With each shared glance, with every laugh they exchanged, he found himself seeing her differently, as if a veil had been lifted.

Rhea caught him staring a few times, but she only grinned, a teasing glint in her eye. She was used to people looking at her, admiring her strength and beauty, but with Jimmy, it felt different—more intimate. There was a softness to the way he watched her, a quiet longing that she was beginning to recognize.

Jimmy shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. She was his brother’s girlfriend. This was Rhea—his friend, his tag team partner. But even as he reminded himself of this, his feelings continued to shift, defying reason. In his mind, Rhea was no longer just Jey’s girlfriend. The way she fit beside him, the way she shared in his ideas and embraced his creativity—it felt like something more.

He found himself craving her closeness, yearning for her in a way that made him ache inside. The thought of her being with Jey had once felt natural, a part of their family dynamic. But now, all he could think of was what it would feel like if she were his—if he could call her his own.

As Rhea finished adjusting the skirt, she spun around, catching Jimmy’s eye. “What do you think? Do I look fierce or what?”

Jimmy’s heart thudded in his chest as he forced himself to play it cool, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You look like a badass,” he said, keeping his tone light. But his gaze lingered a moment too long, the weight of his thoughts hanging unspoken between them.

Rhea held his gaze, her own smile softening as if sensing the shift. There was an intensity in the air, a silent understanding that neither dared to speak aloud. She could feel the heat of his stare, the way his eyes traced her with something deeper than just admiration.

“Alright, alright, back to work,” she said, breaking the tension with a laugh, though a faint blush colored her cheeks. She turned her focus back to the gear, but her thoughts were no longer on the fabric in her hands.

As the afternoon faded into evening, Jimmy wrestled with his feelings, torn between loyalty to his brother and the growing desire that threatened to consume him. The lines were blurring, and he wasn’t sure where friendship ended and something more began.

One thing was clear—whatever this was, it was starting to become more than just a partnership. One person oblivious and one person aching.

The energy between them had shifted throughout the day, unspoken but undeniable, lingering in the air as they sewed and crafted in comfortable silence.

Suddenly, Rhea’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at the screen, and Jimmy caught a quick glimpse of the name flashing across it—Jey. A flicker of guilt shot through him, his heart tightening as he looked away, trying to mask the emotions churning inside.

“I’ll be right back,” Rhea murmured, picking up her phone and stepping out onto the balcony to take the call in private. She slid the glass door shut behind her, leaving Jimmy alone in the room.

The moment she was gone, an anxious curiosity gnawed at him. He knew he shouldn’t listen, that it wasn’t his place, but he couldn’t help himself. He leaned back in his chair, straining his ears, catching only faint murmurs through the glass.

Outside, Rhea’s voice was low, soothing, as if she were trying to reassure Jey. “Don’t worry about me,” she was saying, her tone soft but firm. “I’m holding it together, I promise. Jimmy’s been a big help—he’s really got my back.”

The mention of his name made Jimmy’s heart race, a conflicting mix of pride and guilt swelling within him. He knew he was helping Rhea through a difficult time, but he also knew his feelings were no longer simple. His growing affection for her had started to eclipse his loyalty to Jey, and that realization felt both thrilling and terrifying.

Through the glass, Rhea continued to speak, her words softened by the muffled barrier, but the tenderness in her tone was unmistakable. She cared about Jey deeply; that much was clear. And as much as it hurt to listen, Jimmy knew that she was still tethered to his brother in a way he couldn’t touch.

After a few more moments, the call ended. Rhea took a deep breath, collecting herself before stepping back into the room. She caught Jimmy’s gaze, and he quickly looked away, trying to feign indifference, but she saw right through him.

“Jey sends his regards,” she said, offering a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked tired, a mixture of emotions clouding her expression, though she tried to hide it.

“Good,” Jimmy replied, forcing a casual tone. He wanted to ask more, to pry into the details of the call, but he bit his tongue, knowing it wasn’t his place.

There was a beat of silence, a weight hanging between them as they stood there, each lost in their own thoughts. Jimmy could sense Rhea’s inner struggle, the loyalty she felt toward Jey clashing with the connection they were beginning to forge. It was a silent, shared understanding—one neither of them dared to voice.

“Want to get back to work?” Rhea finally asked, breaking the silence with a hesitant smile.

“Yeah,” Jimmy replied, his voice softer than usual. “Let’s finish this up.”

As the night settled around them, Jimmy and Rhea were making the final touches to their new gear. The atmosphere was quieter now, a little more intense, each of them immersed in their own thoughts. The only sounds filling the room were the soft clicks of the sewing machine and the occasional rustling of fabric.

Jimmy’s phone buzzed, pulling him out of his concentration. He glanced down, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Jey’s name light up on the screen. It was strange, reading his brother’s name. A wave of emotions hit him—guilt, possessiveness, and something darker that he couldn’t quite put into words.

He unlocked his phone and read the message.

Jey: Hey. Just checking in. How’s everything going with Rhea? She’s not giving you too much trouble, is she?

Jimmy’s jaw tightened slightly, the familiar warmth of brotherly love mixing with a gnawing resentment. He forced himself to respond as normally as he could.

Jimmy: Nah, she’s good, Uce. We’re just working on some gear, trying to stay busy for Monday.

He hit send, taking a quick glance at Rhea, who was busy stitching a piece of fabric and seemingly lost in thought. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, debating whether to say more. The possessiveness he felt over her had only grown stronger since she’d taken Jey’s call earlier. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Rhea belonged with him instead of his twin.

A reply came in from Jey.

Jey: Thanks for looking out for her, Jon.. I know she’s been worried about me. She tries to hide it, but I can tell every time we talk. I feel bad leaving her by herself to handle everything… just wish I could be there, you know?

Jimmy’s grip on his phone tightened as he read the words, feeling the twist of jealousy coil tighter in his chest. He wanted to be the one Rhea worried about, the one she’d miss when he wasn’t around. He took a slow breath, controlling the mask of casual indifference he wore so well, the feelings hidden beneath his easy-going facade.

Jimmy: Don’t worry, Uce. I got her. She’s in good hands.

The vibration of another message broke his thoughts.

Jey: You’re the best, man. I don’t know what I’d do without you right now. Just… keep an eye on her, yeah? She can be stubborn as hell when it comes to hiding her own pain. I’m worried she’s not letting herself really process all this, y’know?

Jimmy swallowed, feeling the weight of Jey’s trust pressing down on him, but the protectiveness he felt over Rhea only intensified. He took a second before responding.

Jimmy: Of course, bro. I’ll make sure she’s alright. You just focus on getting better. We got this.

As he slipped his phone back into his pocket, he felt Rhea’s gaze on him. She arched a brow, curious. “Who was that?” she asked, her tone casual but with an edge of curiosity.

Jimmy’s mask of indifference slipped into place effortlessly. “Just one of the guys,” he said smoothly, flashing her a quick grin to dispel any suspicion. “You know, just wrestling stuff.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, seemingly amused but unconvinced. “You’re not gossiping about me, are you?”

Jimmy laughed, the sound coming out easy and natural. “Come on, now. You know me better than that.” He shrugged, keeping the mask firmly in place. “Just talking about Monday. Everyone’s excited to see the new gear.”

Satisfied, Rhea returned to her work, though a faint smile lingered on her lips. She hadn’t noticed the depth of Jimmy’s gaze, the intensity he hid behind that casual mask. But Jimmy knew that he was walking a fine line—between loyalty to his brother and the growing desire to make Rhea his own.

As he watched her, his mind drifted to the text exchange with Jey. The guilt twisted within him, a bitter reminder of the lines he was dangerously close to crossing. But then his eyes fell on Rhea, and the possessiveness surged again, stronger than before. He didn’t want to just be her tag partner or her friend. He wanted to be the one she called her own.

And deep down, he knew he was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen, even if it meant betraying the one person who trusted him most.

“Let’s stop right here, we have to get up early to drive to Corpus tomorrow..”

—

November 18th, 2024 7:38 PM

The crowd in the American Bank Center buzzed with anticipation as the lights dimmed and the opening notes of Jimmy Uso’s entrance music resonated throughout the arena.

Michael Cole: “Welcome to Monday Night Raw! We are live in Corpus Christi, Texas, and tonight we have an action-packed show ahead! Kicking things off is none other than Jimmy Uso!”

Pat McAfee: “Oh, you know the energy is about to explode, Cole! Jimmy has been on a roll lately, and with his new partner Rhea Ripley by his side, anything can happen!”

Jimmy made his way to the stage, exuding confidence and charisma as he high-fived fans along the ramp. The crowd cheered enthusiastically, chanting “Uso! Uso!” as he flexed and danced to the rhythm of his entrance music.

Michael Cole: “Jimmy Uso is looking ready for action! This is a new chapter for him, especially with his brother Jey sidelined. Let’s see how he handles things tonight.”

As Jimmy reached the bottom of the ramp, the arena erupted into thunderous applause as Rhea Ripley’s music hit.

Pat McAfee: “And here comes Rhea Ripley! Listen to this crowd! What a way to make an entrance!”

Rhea burst onto the stage, radiating confidence in her striking new gear. She didn’t hesitate for a moment; she ran towards Jimmy and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Michael Cole: “What a display of chemistry between these two! Rhea is fearless!”

Jimmy caught her effortlessly and pulled down her bandana, revealing her fierce black and red makeup look. He grinned as Rhea leaned her head back, sticking her tongue out playfully, embodying her character with every move. The crowd surprisingly ate every single move up.

Pat McAfee: “Look at that! Rhea’s makeup and gear are absolutely phenomenal! She’s clearly stepping out from the shadow of her ex Jey Uso and making a name for herself alongside Jimmy!”

Michael Cole: “Now wait a minute Pat, they haven’t broke up!”

Pat McAfee: “Well it is heavily implied Cole with that bandana mini skirt she has on!”

After a moment, Jimmy set her down gently. The two shared a smile before making their way over to the commentary table, joining Michael Cole and Pat McAfee.

Michael Cole: “Jimmy and Rhea are here at the announce desk! This is a unique pairing, and they’ve definitely created a new style with their gear. A bold departure from what we’ve seen with Jey and Rhea!”

Pat McAfee: “It’s a total upgrade! I mean, Rhea’s red fishnets and harnesses really make her stand out, and Jimmy looks like a million bucks! This is a complete rebranding for both of them!”

As they settled in, the crowd continued to cheer. Jimmy leaned back in his chair, a proud smile on his face while Rhea adjusted her bandana, clearly enjoying the attention.

Michael Cole: “Fans, we’re gearing up for the semi-finals of the Mixed Gender Tag Team Tournament! It’s Maxine Dupri and Otis taking on Zelina Vega and Dragon Lee. The winner of this match will face Jimmy and Rhea at Survivor Series! Rhea .. care to entertain the WWE Universe on your thoughts?”

Rhea Ripley: “It’s going to be an incredible match. We’re ready for whoever wins! Jimmy and I have been training hard, and we’re excited to show everyone what we can do together.”

Pat McAfee: “Hell yeah! This is a different kind of power couple! I love the intensity and the fire you both bring. Who wouldn’t want to see that at Survivor Series?”

As the match was about to begin, Jimmy and Rhea exchanged confident glances, their determination clear. The atmosphere in the arena was electric, and the anticipation for their upcoming showdown only intensified.

Michael Cole: “Let’s get to the action! It’s going to be a night to remember here on Monday Night Raw!”

With that, the camera shifted to the ring, and the excitement in the arena reached a fever pitch as the semi-finals match kicked off, setting the stage for what was sure to be an unforgettable night.

The match between Maxine Dupri & Otis and Zelina Vega & Dragon Lee was intense, with both teams pulling out all the stops. The crowd was on their feet, and Michael Cole and Pat McAfee kept the energy high as they commented on each back-and-forth exchange. Finally, Dragon Lee delivered a stunning high-flying maneuver, pinning Otis for the three-count, securing the victory for his team.

Michael Cole: “And there it is! Dragon Lee and Zelina Vega are heading to Survivor Series to face Jimmy Uso and Rhea Ripley in the finals!”

Pat McAfee: “Oh, man! This is going to be huge! But wait… looks like Zelina’s got something to say!”

As Dragon Lee celebrated with his arms raised, Zelina Vega pointed directly at the commentary table and confidently made her way down, her eyes locked on Rhea. She strutted over with a smirk, grabbing a microphone as she approached the table.

Zelina Vega: “So, Rhea, you think you’re ready for Survivor Series? Think again. I’m coming for you, and there’s nothing you or your new little boyfriend here can do to stop me!”

Rhea immediately stood up, her eyes flashing with fury as, Michael Cole quickly passed a mic of her own, leaning forward as she sneered at Zelina.

Rhea Ripley: “Oh, I’m ready for you, Zelina. In fact, I’m more than ready. You’re all talk and no fight. At Survivor Series, I’m going to put you down so hard you won’t know what hit you.”

Zelina chuckled sarcastically and shrugged. “Is that so?” Then, without warning, she reached forward and smacked Rhea across the face. The audience gasped, and then erupted as Rhea’s expression shifted from shock to pure rage.

Michael Cole: “Oh! Did you see that?! Zelina Vega just slapped Rhea Ripley! She’s crossed the line!”

Pat McAfee: “This is about to explode, Cole! These two women are ready to tear each other apart!”

Rhea lunged forward, jumping over the commentary table, as she went for Zelina. The two women clashed, sending the fans into a frenzy as they grappled, pulling at each other’s hair and trading blows. Security started to move in, but the crowd was fully invested in the impromptu Survivor Series preview unfolding before their eyes.

Michael Cole: “This is chaos! This is a taste of what we’re going to see at Survivor Series, folks! Rhea Ripley and Zelina Vega can’t wait to get their hands on each other!”

Jimmy quickly intervened, wrapping his arms around Rhea from behind and trying to pull her back. She struggled in his grasp, still shouting threats and insults at Zelina as she reached out, desperate to get one last hit in. Jimmy leaned down, speaking quietly into her ear, and after a few moments, she seemed to calm down, her attention diverted back to him.

Pat McAfee: “I don’t know, Cole, I think Jimmy might be the only one who can calm Rhea down right now. He’s got her pulled back, but did you see the look on his face? I think there might be more to this partnership than meets the eye!”

Michael Cole: “The chemistry between these two has been undeniable, and the way he’s calming her down… it’s got the fans talking, that’s for sure!”

Rhea continued to hurl insults at Zelina as Jimmy pulled her back toward the ramp, keeping a firm hold on her as they made their way up. Rhea’s eyes were still locked on Zelina, her voice carrying over the roaring crowd as she promised to finish what they started at Survivor Series.

Rhea Ripley: “You better be ready, Zelina, because at Survivor Series, I’m going to end you!”

Jimmy held her close, his grip protective as he walked her up the ramp, occasionally whispering to her to keep her focused on him. Rhea’s intensity softened just slightly as she turned her attention to Jimmy, but she never stopped looking back, still yelling at Zelina until they disappeared behind the curtain.

Michael Cole: “If this is any indication of what we’re going to see at Survivor Series, then we’re in for an explosive match! Rhea Ripley and Jimmy Uso have fire and chemistry that’s undeniable.”

Pat McAfee: “Cole, I think Jimmy’s starting to get attached! Did you see the way he held her back? That wasn’t just a partner looking out for another; there’s something more there, and I think Rhea feels it too!”

Michael Cole: “Ladies and gentlemen, Survivor Series is shaping up to be one of the most exciting events of the year! Jimmy Uso and Rhea Ripley versus Zelina Vega and Dragon Lee… this rivalry just got personal, and I don’t think any of them are ready to back down.”

The fans continued to chant and cheer, still buzzing from the impromptu showdown, eagerly awaiting what would unfold between these teams at Survivor Series. The tension and growing connections between the competitors promised an unforgettable clash.

—

Rhea and Jimmy walked backstage, still riding the high from their intense encounter with Zelina. Jimmy kept his arm casually draped over Rhea’s shoulder, a small smirk on his face, clearly pleased with how the night had gone so far. Rhea, though still simmering with adrenaline, let herself lean into his hold for a brief moment as they walked.

As they rounded a corner, they found Hunter waiting for them, looking excited.

“Well, if it isn’t my two new stars,” Hunter greeted them, clapping his hands. “Did you hear that pop out there? The crowd loves you two together.”

Rhea gave a polite nod, still trying to cool down from the earlier clash. “Thanks, Hunter. What’s up?”

Hunter’s grin grew. “We’re making some storyline adjustments. Don’t worry—you’re still winning the Mixed Gender Tag Titles at Survivor Series, but we’re adding a new layer to it.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow. “What kind of layer?”

“A romantic angle,” Hunter explained. “We’re going to start building that chemistry between you two, teasing that there might be something more than just partnership. The crowd is eating it up already, and we think it’ll drive engagement through the roof.”

Rhea’s face tightened at the mention of a romantic angle, clearly uncomfortable. She had only recently begun adjusting to being paired with Jimmy after Jey’s injury, and this new twist made her stomach turn. She stole a quick glance at Jimmy, who looked more amused than anything, unfazed by the direction.

Seeing her hesitation, Hunter continued, “I’ve already spoken to Jey about it, and he’s totally behind it. He said he trusts both of you to keep things professional. Besides, it’s all just storyline. We’re not asking for anything real.”

But Rhea’s discomfort didn’t dissipate. She shot Hunter a tight-lipped smile before excusing herself. “I… I need a moment.”

Jimmy watched her walk away, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “I’ll talk to her,” he said to Hunter, giving a nod before following in the direction she had gone.

Rhea reached her locker room, slipping inside and locking the door behind her. She took a deep breath, her mind racing as she pulled out her phone. She needed to talk to Jey, to hear his voice and understand how he could be okay with this storyline.

Rhea held her breath as the line rang, each ring amplifying the unease sitting heavy in her chest. Finally, Jey picked up, his voice warm but tinged with fatigue.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted softly.

“Hey,” Rhea replied, trying to keep her voice steady. “I… I just talked to Hunter. He said he spoke to you about this new angle.”

There was a slight pause on the other end. Jey let out a slow sigh. “Yeah, he did. Look, I won’t lie, it makes me uncomfortable too. I don’t love the idea of you and Jimmy… you know, pretending to be more than partners. But Hunter mentioned the money we’d get from this. He said the merch sales would spike with this angle, and there’s a bonus if we can really pull it off.”

Rhea pressed her lips together, feeling her chest tighten. “I don’t care about the money, Jey,” she said, barely above a whisper.

“But, Rhea, it’s good money,” he reasoned gently. “Money we can add to our savings.”

She swallowed hard. Their savings. The one they’d been building together, for awhile now. That fund wasn’t just for any future—they’d built it for their future. They had dreams of her stepping back, of leaving the chaos of the wrestling world behind so they could start a family, live a quieter life. She’d always imagined those savings as a safety net that would let her retire early, be home, and maybe… start planning for the kids they both wanted.

“This… this is for us, Rhea,” Jey added, his voice a little softer now, as if he sensed the turmoil she was going through. “I know it’s asking a lot, and I know you’re not comfortable with this, but just think about it. It’s a storyline. It’s not real.”

She closed her eyes, her grip on the phone tightening. “It might not be real, but it feels… wrong.”

“Listen,” he continued, and she could hear the struggle in his voice too. “I trust you. And I trust my brother. We’re strong enough to get through this, and if this is what it takes for us to make something lasting from all this work, I’m willing to take that risk. But… if you’re not okay with it, we’ll find another way.”

Rhea’s eyes began to sting as she thought about it. She wanted to say no, to put her foot down and refuse, but the weight of their future hung between them. She took a shaky breath.

“If this is what it takes,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, “then… I’ll try. But only because it’s for us, Jey.”

“Thank you, babe. I know it’s hard. And I promise you, once this is all over, it’ll just be you and me,” Jey reassured her, his voice as steady as he could manage.

Rhea nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Just… promise me you’ll stay with me through this. I need to know you’re here.”

“Always,” he replied without hesitation. “We’re in this together. No matter what.”

She took a shaky breath, feeling both reassured and apprehensive. “Okay,” she whispered. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Rhea,” he said. “Just take it one day at a time, alright? We’ll get through this.”

They lingered on the line for a moment longer before Rhea finally ended the call. As she put her phone down, the room felt heavier, her resolve wavering. She knew she had to face whatever was coming, but a part of her couldn’t shake the unease lingering in her heart.

Jimmy knocked on the locker room door, and Rhea opened it, a mix of relief and apprehension washing over her as he stepped inside.

“Hey,” she greeted, forcing a smile despite the turmoil inside her.

“Hey,” he replied, leaning against the doorframe. He could sense the tension in the air, the unease radiating off her. “What’s going on?”

Rhea sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I just… I don’t know. I’m really uncomfortable with this whole angle we’re doing. It feels like it’s too much.”

“It’s all business, Rhea,” Jimmy reassured her, his tone firm yet gentle. “You know that, right?”

She nodded slowly, but the weight of her feelings still hung heavily in the air. “I just can’t wait to go home tonight. I miss Jey.”

Jimmy sighed, looking at her with a mix of concern and determination. “About that… Hunter wants to start building on this angle, so we have PR and photoshoots lined up for the next few days before our face-off on SmackDown with Dragon Lee and Zelina Vega.”

Rhea let out another frustrated sigh, rubbing her temples. “I really wanted to be home with Jey. This just feels wrong, like I’m betraying him or something.”

“I get it,” Jimmy replied, stepping closer. “But how about we change our flight to a later time? We could spend some time watching comedy movies and ordering room service. Just relax for a bit before all the craziness hits.”

Rhea looked up at him, her expression softening slightly as a small smile crept onto her face. “That actually sounds nice.”

“Great!” Jimmy said, returning her smile with enthusiasm. He felt a surge of happiness at the thought of spending more time with her, even if it was under these unusual circumstances.

As Rhea began to pack her clothes, rifling through her bag for a hoodie, Jimmy watched her intently. There was something about the way she moved, her determination, that made his heart race. He felt an overwhelming sense of possessiveness wash over him. Here she was, right in front of him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that fate had handed him an opportunity he couldn’t let slip away.

He stepped closer, wanting to be near her, to soak in every moment. “You look good in that,” he said, nodding at the hoodie she pulled out.

Rhea glanced up, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before she smirked. “Thanks. It’s comfy.”

“Comfort looks good on you,” he replied, unable to hide the genuine admiration in his voice.

She blushed slightly at the compliment, and for a moment, the weight of the world outside faded away. It was just the two of them, caught in this bubble of shared energy. Jimmy couldn’t help but feel that with each passing second, he was inching closer to something more than just a partnership in the ring.

“Alright, let’s do this!” He said, trying to keep his tone light.

Rhea nodded, the smile lingering on her lips as she zipped up her bag. “Deal. Just promise me we won’t talk about any of this angle while we’re watching.”

“Promise,” he said, a playful grin spreading across his face.

—

10:18 PM

As Jimmy and Rhea settled back into the cozy atmosphere of the Omni Hotel room, the laughter from Addams Family Values filled the space, creating a warm backdrop for their light-hearted banter. Jimmy was genuinely enjoying the film, chuckling uncontrollably at the absurdity on screen.

“I gotta say, I’m really liking your choice of movies, Rhea. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before,” he remarked between fits of laughter.

Rhea glanced at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “What’s your favorite character so far?”

Jimmy thought for a moment, then burst out, “That bald dude with his girlfriend! He’s hilarious!”

Rhea laughed, unable to contain her amusement. “You mean Uncle Fester and Debbie?”

“Yeah! That’s them!” He nodded eagerly, then mimicked the scene where Fester asks Debbie for a kiss. “Give me a kiss!”

“Give me a twenty!” Rhea shot back, both of them breaking into laughter again, enjoying the ridiculousness of the moment.

“Want some more wine?” Jimmy asked, gesturing toward the half-empty bottle on the nightstand.

Rhea nodded, “Yes please Jimmy..” her smile still bright. As he poured another glass, a thought struck him. “You know, you don’t have to call me Jimmy all the time.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you want me to call you?”

“Jon or Jonathan,” he said, playfully referencing his real name.

Rhea chuckled, shaking her head. “I’ll stick with Rhea. I hate my real name.”

Jimmy was surprised. “Wait, I’m sorry, but I’ve never even asked what your name is.”

She smiled at him, her expression softening. “It’s Demi.”

“Nice to meet you, Demi,” he said with a warm grin.

Rhea felt a flutter of warmth at the sound of her name, and she replied, “Nice to meet you too, Jon.”

Their eyes met for a moment, and there was a subtle shift in the air between them. It felt oddly comforting to share this new dynamic, the conversation flowing effortlessly as they continued to watch the movie. They slipped back into playful exchanges about the film, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper that lingered in the air, both of them aware of the growing connection.

After the credits rolled on Addams Family Values, Jimmy turned to check the time. It was already 11:01 PM. “Hey, are you hungry?” he asked, glancing at Rhea, who was still smiling from the movie.

“Yeah, but I can’t drive,” she replied, her tone light.

“Don’t worry about that; we can take an Uber,” Jimmy suggested with a grin.

Rhea laughed, shaking her head. “It’s already 11; everything is probably closed.”

“Oh, come on! This is Texas! They have Whataburger!” Jimmy shot back, his enthusiasm infectious.

Rhea raised her eyebrows in curiosity. “Whataburger? I’ve never tried it.”

“Then we have to go! Put on your shoes, sunglasses, and hoodie!” he urged, practically bouncing with excitement.

Once they were ready, they left the room and headed down to the lobby. The night air was warm as they stepped outside, and Jimmy pointed towards a glowing sign in the distance. “Look! Whataburger by the Bay!”

“Let’s just walk; we’re covered, so no one will recognize us,” Rhea suggested, feeling a mix of thrill and mischief.

They strolled side by side, with Jimmy animatedly explaining the iconic menu items, especially the Breakfast on a Bun burger, or BOB as the native Texans called it. “It’s a Texas staple! You’re gonna love it,” he promised.

As they entered the fast food joint, they were greeted by the smell of fresh fries and sizzling burgers. The drive-thru line was packed, but surprisingly, there was no one inside. “Looks like we lucked out!” Jimmy exclaimed.

“What do you want?” he asked Rhea as they approached the counter.

“That breakfast thing sounds good,” she said, her eyes lighting up with interest.

“Two BOB sausage meals with hashbrowns and orange juices, please!” Jimmy ordered, his excitement palpable as they waited for their food.

While they waited, they chatted about everything and nothing, the easy banter making time fly. Once their meals were ready, they decided to walk back to the hotel, bags in hand.

As they strolled along, Rhea couldn’t resist the urge to unwrap her breakfast sandwich. She pulled it out and took a big bite. “Wow, this is good!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in delight.

Jimmy beamed at her reaction. “See? I told you it was a game-changer! Now you know why I love this place.”

Rhea chuckled, savoring the taste. “I definitely understand now. I might have to make this a regular thing!”

They continued their walk, the night filled with laughter and the kind of comfortable silence that came with sharing simple moments. As they neared the hotel, Rhea couldn’t help but feel grateful for this unexpected adventure with Jimmy, the blend of excitement and camaraderie leaving her with a sense of warmth.

—

As the soft glow of the hotel room lights dimmed, Rhea turned on her side to face Jimmy, who was already lying in his own bed across the room. “Hey, what type of gear do you think we should do for Survivor Series?” she asked, her voice low but curious.

Jimmy propped himself up on his elbow, considering her question. “Honestly? As soon as we land in Canada, we’ll start brainstorming. We can come up with something that stands out—something that feels unique to both of us,” he replied, a hint of enthusiasm creeping into his voice.

Rhea smiled at that. “Thank you for getting us separate beds,” she said, her tone sincere.

“I told you,” Jimmy replied with a shrug, “I’m not gonna make you uncomfortable. In Houston, it was different because we didn’t have time to figure it out, but don’t worry. We’ll keep it professional.”

“Thank you,” Rhea said again, appreciating his thoughtfulness. She turned off her bedside lamp, plunging the room into soft shadows. “Goodnight, Jimmy.”

“Goodnight, Rhea,” he replied, settling back into his pillows.

As the quiet settled over the room, both of them soon drifted off into sleep. But in the depths of Jimmy’s dreams, the boundaries between reality and imagination blurred. He found himself on a picturesque boat, the sun casting golden rays across the shimmering water.

Suddenly, Rhea appeared beside him, her laughter echoing as the boat gently rocked. She leaned in, her eyes sparkling mischievously. Without warning, she pressed her lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss. It was electric, filled with an unspoken connection that felt so real. The world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them in that moment.

In the dream, everything felt perfect. The warmth of the sun, the gentle breeze, and the taste of saltwater on his lips. Jimmy could feel his heart racing as Rhea pulled back, her smile wide and inviting. “See? This is nice,” she said playfully, her voice a melodic echo.

Jimmy said, “You know what would be better?”

“What is that?” She asked.

“You showing me how much you love me..”

Rhea took Jimmy’s hand. She led him to the cabin below deck, her eyes gleaming with desire. Jimmy followed her, his heart pounding in his chest. Once inside, Rhea pushed him against the wall and started kissing him again. Jimmy moaned as he felt her hands undoing his shorts, freeing his hard cock.

Rhea knelt down in front of him and took his cock in her mouth. Jimmy closed his eyes and threw his head back, enjoying the sensation of her warm mouth around his cock. Rhea sucked and licked his cock, her tongue swirling around the tip. Jimmy couldn't take it anymore, he needed to be inside her.

He pulled Rhea up and laid her down on the bed. He spread her legs wide open and admired her wet pussy. Rhea moaned as she felt Jimmy’s fingers entering her, preparing her for his cock. Jimmy positioned himself above her and slowly entered her. Rhea wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside her.

Jimmy started thrusting slowly, savoring the sensation of her tight pussy around his cock. Rhea matched his rhythm, her moans getting louder with every thrust. Jimmy increased his pace, his balls slapping against Rhea's ass. Rhea dug her nails into his back, her orgasm building up inside her.

But just as he wanted to climax into her, the scene began to dissolve, and he felt himself slipping back into the depths of slumber. The sex lingered in his mind, filling him with an ache he couldn't quite place-a mix of longing and an undeniable attraction.

As the dream faded away, Jimmy found himself stirring in his sleep, a soft smile crossing his face.

46 notes · View notes

keelt9 · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter 13

Masterlist

It took Max’s manager and me around 10 minutes to get him into the jet, by the time we arrived at the airfield it was supposed they must be in Milton Keynes.

I lied to him, telling him I was fine, just maybe a little bit dizzy; he tried to insisted he wanted to wait for Mika or Thomas came to pick me but I calm him down saying <I will be fine.>

Mika and Thomas arrived 30 minutes later, found me with Caleb who insisted he didn’t want to leave alone until I was fine.

Mika was calm until Caleb mentioned the part of leaving me alone, causing a dry laugh from her, asking if his own words didn’t taste like vinegar.

Max called me right away as they landed, I assured him I was fine, just I got dizzy for the long weeks and the moved weekend, but I was totally fine.

Mika and Thomas didn’t mention a word to anyone about when we met Caleb; but try to persuade me at least I should tell Max who is Caleb, not because he must know everything about my past, just because as Mika said, if that dude is someone who hurt you that much I like to know.

Still I can’t, not now.

Singapore was a success, even for Lewis who reached third place.

Max called me that night to tell me all in the paddock started to tease him about us, and he was fighting for nor saying a word, but Checo’s facial expression didn’t help him at all.

“I also received a couple of messages.” Alexa texted me Thursday night about a couple of photos of me and “someone” who looked like Max in Newport beach.

Max smiles as he’s finishing his breakfast. “Alexandra.”

“How do you know?” I almost hit the table in the living room.

“Charles has been very curious too.” He said drinking what I bet is his first redbull of the day. “Are you alone already?”

My parents left early for an old friend's party in Ireland, leaving me with the confidence that I'll be alone one day, because Max will come from me Tuesday afternoon to travel to Japan.

“Yes, it’s been a long Monday.” I laid down on the couch. “I never imagine how many permissions you need.”

All these days I have been in endless reunions and paperwork for the shelter, knowing I’m not going to be around, I have to make a huge progress before going to Japan.

“And this is starting to frustrate me.” I raise my arm with the cast.

Max realizes something. “I haven’t signed it, first thing I’ll do tomorrow.”

I didn’t realize I have a sheepy face until Max mentioned it. “Go to sleep, I'll see you tomorrow, ok?”

I nod getting up the stairs. “Have a safe flight.”

“Sleep well.” He smiles while drinking his Red Bull, hanging out.

Mornings are officially cold, but the sun keeps you warm as the few sunlights touch your skin. I finished my first snack of the day, sending the last information for one of the companies who will work with us when I hear wheels on the gravel, Max is here.

I close my laptop running to the main door, excited to see him after one week, still one I opened the door, Max isn’t there.

One more time, my blood runs cold.

“Hanna was right.” Caleb is standing at the door with his hands on the pocket of his jacket smiling.

I curse low, I hate to admit it but Hanna keeps knowing some things about me.

“Can we talk?” I close the door behind me. “I guess your parents are inside, I get it.”

Caleb waits a couple of seconds but simply seeing him smiling looking so fresh is making my anger increase.

“I just want to come and make sure you’re alright, you seem quite impressed and…”

“You never worry about me.” I grip the cast trying to contain me. “It’s stupid you pretend now.”

Caleb got down his head. “Listen Y/N, things kind of mess up, but…”

“Mess up?” I scoff. “You better get out of here.” The tears on my eyes make everything blurry.

“I don’t cause you so much damage. Jeez Y/N, you seem happy in a new relationship, that’s a good sign.”

I couldn’t hold back, the next thing I realized was that my hand was hitting his cheek. “Go.”

“I deserved that, I know, I came here for…” Like he stumbles with his own feets he goes backwards, it was until Max appeared behind him pulling him for the jacket I blink and my blurry vision became clear.

“She told you to go.” Caleb scoffs but I know he won’t take a step back.

“Don’t get involved in this, this is between her and me.” I see Max’s face switch as he caresses my face, the leath eyes on him.

“Get fuck out of here.” I grip Max's arm seeing he's about to push him, he turns around grabbing my hand.

“She told you who I am?” I feel my stomach flipp and I hiss. Caleb saw my eyes and he knew it. “You don’t tell him.”

“Enough, go.” Max grabs him by the jacket pushing him to his car.

“Max!” I try to grip his arm back, Max is so angry that he didn't even listen to me.

“I WAS HER FIANCE, IDIOT!” Max shutter for a minute but he opens the door of his car, pushing him.

I can’t move, I've been holding my breath but all I do is sit on the stairs.

Max grip the door. “Go, before I call the police.”

Caleb holds his serious face and bluffs from the last time. “You can thank me later.”

I hide my face between my legs and my arms, trembling, feeling my world is collapsing one more time.

“Hey, hey, can you look at me?” When Max sees I don’t move he kneels in front of me and hugs me, that was all I needed to break in tears.

No matter if all the walls are crumbling down, there are some wounds behind them, and sometimes those wounds are so easy to bleed like the first time.

I push him away, I stand pushing him, one more time. “Leave me alone.” I clean my face but tears are impossible to stop.

“Y/N.” He grips my hand on his chest.

“You don’t hear me?” I take my hand off his chest. “Leave me alone.” I said between grip teeths.

I ran back to the door opened by closing it with a big thud, unable to move. I slip until the ground, my chest hurts, my breath is fast and my body is trembling.

“Can you please…” Max said. “Please don't shut me down.”

I cover my mouth for he won’t hear me. “Y/N.”

I don’t know how much time has passed until I hear another voice behind the door, but my fear fades away when I recognize Thomas' voice.

“Y/N, it’s me, can you please open it?” Thomas knocked softly.

“Tell him… Tell him to go.” My voice broke in every word.

“Y/N..” Thomas said in a begging tone.

I clean my face. “He goes or both of you.”

I don’t want to distinguish what they said, just a loud <Fuck> from Max before the loud sound of wheels on the gravel, let me know is ok come out.

Just in that moment I opened, throwing myself in Thomas' arms crying like I did years ago.

It took me a lot of time to calm down, but when I got it, I called Lewis to explain it; want it or not, Max will ask him when they meet in Japan. He cursed low and I could hear the anger as he asked me if I would be fine being alone this weekend.

“I’ll go Mika’s house.” It’s late at night and Mika and Thomas are there helping me, in all.

“Call Nicola in case…” I heard someone calling for him, he’s already in Japan and for them it’s early morning.

“Let’s talk when you come here, ok?” Lewis breathes out. “Ple…”

“I won’t say anything, don’t worry. Try to rest, I’ll see you as soon as I can.” I heard he asked for another minute. “Love you.”

“Bye Lew.”

I hang out but my eyes are lost in the big trees. “Y/N, ready?”

Mika is under the frame door with my purse as Thomas walks with my bags in his hand.

They waited for days for me to speak about it. Mom and dad called me when they didn't see any show for me being in the paddock so I told them what happened, even when they tried to remain calm I know they were angry too.

The farm is gone now, a big land is in front of my eyes with machinery all over the place; anyone there, after all it is Saturday morning..

“I’m terrified.” Thomas lifts his eyes from the blueprints.

All these days I isolate myself in Newport, my house is in the last touches and the shelter in the first phases.

Thomas forgot the papers we’ll need this Monday, after leaving Mika in the hospital we drove here.

“Y/N.” Thomas whispered. “It’s not easy, it’s ok to…”

“No it is not, I hurt him, I know.” I clear my throat. “But, I’m trying to protect him from all the shit.”

“Y/N!” Thomas spat leaving the pen on the table. “Don’t say that.”

“Do you even imagine what would happen if someone saw Max Verstappen pulling a guy into his car as a girl is crying on the floor?” Thomas bluffs but he knows as me that would be a pretty big scandale. “I’m scared that he probably thinks I’m a playmaker.”

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times trying to put his word in order. “A guy like Max didn’t care that much, besides he never thought that of you. I talked with him and believed Y/N the only thing it was in his mind at that moment was to protect you.”

Thomas grabs the papers and walks to the exit of the small tent where he works on the week. “He just want to make sure you’re safe.”

I see the leaves on the ground in brown, orange and yellow colors. “I know you’re not ready to tell him and like Mika said it’s not because he must know your past, it's just because if someone hurt you, I bet he would like to know.”

“I’ll drag too many people to this mess.” I feel a knot on my throat as I see my shoes playing with the ground.

“I’m going to correct you.” Thomas jostled me softly. “YOU have so many people you trust and know we care about you, and the same people you know you can lean on.”

Imagines of my family, friends and new friends that appear in my life, giving me a hug when I need it, hearing me all the time, even just calling to ask if I already eat, flow my mind, as a smile appears on my face.

“Is it bad that you lean on someone new?” I see Thomas and raise his shoulders. “After all, in these… whoa almost a year, that’s what you both been doing right?”

I chuckle letting Max’s memories clear my mind. I see my phone, it’s not late.

“Give me a couple of minutes.” Thomas smiles and nods.

“I’ll wait in the car.” I waited until I heard the sound of the door to dial his number.

I don’t wait too long until the third beep Max picks up, of course he won’t let me speak first.

“Are you ok?” I scrunch my nose trying to contain my tears. “Y/N…”

“Forgive me. I didn’t push you away, it's just, it was so much in that moment. I’ll tell you what you have to know, I swear but not now.” I moved side to side of the tent.

“Don’t bite your cheeks.” I giggle releasing I biting the inside of my cheeks. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Max…”

“All I care is that you are ok.” I heard the sound of him moving on the bed.

“I am now, hearing you, I’m better now.” I closed my eyes like he could see me.

“Don’t do this to me schat, no when you’re far away.” Max complains. “And all I want to do is kiss you and hug you right now.”

I cover my face feeling a tear slip. “Let's find each other when the triple heads of Asia end, ok?” Max growls. “Is it so much your race thinking that is making me so happy?”

“I’ll do more than that, count with that.” I heard someone knock on his door.

“I’ll leave you.” Max said goodbye but I added one last thing. “Max, I’m holding tight, really tight.”

“That’s all you have to do.”

The race was exceptional, Max won with a comfy difference of 2-3 seconds with Charles, but I never expected what would happen in the press conference.

Max posted photos of the race on the top of the podium, in the last slide was a photo we took when we were in Liverpool watching the sunrise.

Not a simple photo of the sunrise; his face illuminated for the sun in orange colors as I’m hugging him but my face isn’t appearing in the frame, just my hair and my arm around his neck.

>Keeping her busy with winns.

In one of the many comments Max had about if there is a chance of tha girl in the picture could be me, I replay.

> 👀

That unleashed an endless week of rumors and even a timeline of my relationship with Max started to spread. In the time line are photos that I didn't even know when or were taken.

Even Lewis helps to increase the rumors by posting a story of me laying on the couch of his house with the small description of…

>Keeping an eye on her.

Which Mercedes complement with.

>Keeping a lot of eyes on her.

Red Bull can't stay behind, answering Mercedes.

>When you are busy we can keep an eye on her too. 😉

By the time the GP of China ends, Max was questioned about his position on the rumors.

“Max, what can you say about the things that are happening around you and Lewis' little sister?” Max keeps his face neutral.

“Y/N is an amazing person, but I'm afraid Lewis lost from his view a couple of times.” A big smile with pressed lips appeared on his face.

Lewis regrets he didn't have the chance to reply to something, but his tour with the reporters ended.

“We didn't want a soft lunch, right?” Max said as he arrived to apartment in Monaco.

“Not after a race!” I laugh rolling my eyes.

“Where are you? It's pretty dark. I can barely see you.” He said searching for his keys in his bag.

I opened his door jumping on him, causing him to act fast grabbing his phone and me at the same time. “In your house.”

Max curses but holds me tight against him.

“Oh my God.” He splits so he can see my face. “Hi.”

I scrunch my nose, jumping was a bad idea because my casted arm hurts.

“Reckless girl.” He observed my arm. “Are you ok? You shouldn't be jumping around, you know there is a percentage of people who can aggravate a fracture even being with a cast.”

I roll my eyes. “So much blah blah blah.”

I pull him by his shirt for kissing him so slowly but passionately, with just one intention, leaving him breathless.

I get it because the lack of hair was the only thing that made us separate.

“I miss you.” I whisper stick to his lips. “I'm sorry, I know…”

We're so lost in the moment that he just pressed his lips against mine one more time.

“Welcome to your home.” I whisper following for a hug, both of his arms across my back.

“This couldn’t feel more like home.” He hid his face on my neck.

I smile but I remember what I have inside of his home. “Oh, let’s get inside.”

I split as I pull him inside of his apartment but I stop him in his hallway. “No, no, no.” I put my right hand on his face. “Don’t see.”

Max has to walk with his knees a little bit folded and in an uncomfortable position, but still he smiles walking in a dark apartment.

We reached his living room, where on the small table a cheesecake with a little candle waits for him.

“Ta da!” I take my hand of his eyes, my eyes stuck on his face all the time. His face lights up too.

“Oh my god!” He blinks and sees me, all my words were cut for a kiss. “This is amazing, thank you so much.”

“Blow it! Or you will have melted a candle on that.” Max giggles and blows the candle as I light on.

After a detailed look he realized the shape of the candles. “This is Jimmy and Sassy. Amazing, totally amazing.”

“Even though I like to take the credit for this, I can’t.” We sat down on his carpet. “I asked Alexa about a place for the cheesecake and the candles, Emma knows a place in London.”

“Can I?” Max points to the cheesecake for taking a piece.

I giggle. “All yours.” I don’t have to tell him twice for he takes a small portion of melting at the first bite. “That good, huh?”

Max nods offering me a bite which I gladly take, yes, so good.

Watching him enjoying the dessert makes my heart squeeze, just thinking how worried and mad he could be.

“I’m sorry.” I said playing with the carpet. “I promise I won’t do it again but I was scared.”

Max grabs my hands and turns around facing me. “Don’t say that again. I’ll wait, if you think it is something you should tell me, I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“You know, it is hard imagining a life without you.” It’s the only thing that I have clear on my mind, the only thing I have for certain right now lost in his eyes.

Max blinks, I grab his face between my hands, smiling at him. “It's impossible for me too.” Max chuckles pulling me as I sit on his lap, both of my things at the side of his legs.

I surrounded his neck with my arms. “You're one of a kind Verstappen.” Max laughs, kissing me.

“Emilian for you, too many people call me that.” I laughed too nodding. “Thanks for be home.”

I hugged him tighter, he’s right, this couldn’t feel more like home.

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #max verstappen imagine #lewis hamilton #mercedes #sir lewis hamilton

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theyjusthowl · 4 months ago

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WIP Monday

I'm trying out a new thing to be more consistent with my writing, so maybe my beta won't have to wait a month for the next installment of this WIP from hell.

I'm currently working on a Sterek longfic that somehow got away from me and is now 50k of pure hurt/comfort, and this is one of my favorite scenes, so cue the angst.

---

Lydia says, “We could use a place of our own.”

Her gaze hungrily prowls around Derek’s loft like it’s Versailles, as sterile and empty as it looks. The cheap pieces of sparse furniture he bought to appease Stiles back when they were together remain the only clue that this space has been lived in.

She knows his bedroom is still presided by a bare mattress and a busted alarm system.

Peter hears, “Derek could use a place for himself.”

His mind helpfully supplies, one that’s not littered with phantoms.

Isaac broaches the subject with Derek, one morning, in the small office space of the warehouse, as Derek works on an invoice.

“All I’m saying, Derek, is that the pack could benefit from a bigger place,” he says, towering over the desk. “I could move back in if we had enough room for everyone. You don’t have to sell the loft, you’re still running your business from here so maybe turn it into a decent office space?” He moves his arm in a sweeping motion. “This is still a great headquarters. Keep a guest bedroom in case you end up working late.”

Derek nods. He thinks of the key he gave Stiles, two years ago, the last time he asked him to not to leave them behind.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll talk to Peter, see if he can find a plot of land that’s to his liking.” He stacks a thin ream of papers on top of a folder, closes it and stands. He files it away in a cabinet behind him and looks at Isaac. “Are we done?”

Isaac leaves the warehouse triumphant.

Peter donates the Hale property to Beacon County to do as they please, on the condition that no private businesses are to be raised on the extensive terrains. They set up a few cabins for lost campers and a small wildlife shelter. Scott is more than happy to volunteer as often as college will allow; Isaac fixes a coyote’s paw after the animal stepped on a pine needle and tells the whole pack approximately twenty times before Derek snarls half-heartedly to stop, for fuck’s sake.

The Sheriff finds a parcel, just fifteen minutes from the western border of the preserve, and it’s not exactly Beacon Hills but it isn’t anywhere else either and still within the county limits, which is apparently relevant for werewolf politics. He makes sure to push forward the copious amounts of red tape and Jackson hooks them up with a magnificently expensive and completely booked contractor, probably under duress. He’s still hell bent on crawling back into Lydia’s good graces. They raise the pale, solid bones of the house in two weeks.

It’s still three more months of plaster and tiles and wood boards and hanging wires before the smooth walls wrap around the house. They’re bare, but the light shines through the windows and bathes the stark white rooms and the sandy floorboards in a warm glow. Cora stands in the middle of the foyer, right under the big skylight, and imagines the first full moon run starting and ending right there.

Lydia commandeers Derek’s soccer mom SUV a little too gleefully and Peter side eyes her, unsettled for the first time in many years. She chooses all the furniture, the decorations, the full works, and Derek pays, only mildly infuriated. Scott sends Lydia a few pictures he took during the house works. Isaac is in all of them, front and center. She chooses one of Derek and Isaac going over the blueprints on a makeshift table, with a few workers lifting the first panel off the floor; she wraps it and gives it to him as a housewarming gift and Derek smiles and runs his fingers over the silver carvings and the edge of the frame.

The last screws are tightened into place the first week of June, and Peter brings in a landscaper to finish up the backyard. There’s one room though, and Derek won’t allow anyone in. Isaac thinks it’s a sanctuary, some sort of hideaway. It’s probably full of the stuff that survived the fire and what little he salvaged from Laura’s apartment in New York, and no one gives it further thought. If Derek wants to be left alone, they can only oblige.

The construction crew wraps up just in time for the summer of their third year. Isaac is unrelenting about a housewarming party. Derek acquiesces, on the condition that Cora and Peter tend to the barbeque.

Just about everyone Derek knows drops by: Lydia tells Allison, and she comes with Chris Argent and Melissa McCall, who somehow make it work, despite having the odds stacked against them. She’s been doing diplomatic work, restoring the Argents’ reputation as fair hunters, writing treaties for warring packs. Lydia fawns over the engagement ring on her finger and Scott hugs her warmly, the same old puppy eyes he used to put on for her, but it’s friendly and Derek knows that he’s sincere in his congratulations, genuinely happy that she’s happy. Isaac tackles her the moment he sees her, picks her up in the air and twirls her in a bone crushing hug. They catch up over a beer, Isaac casually leaning on Scott, with that unaffected demeanor of his. Scott’s hand wanders, subtly scenting Isaac. Isaac’s eyes go soft. Allison smiles and nods and hugs them both.

They’re all out back, milling around the yard. Derek watches on as he grabs two beers from the fridge. One for him, one for the Sheriff. Over the years, they’ve come to a quiet understanding, one reserved for family. Derek calls him Noah now. Noah is still convinced that they’re just one tiny hiccup away from being family. Derek’s not so sure. He entertains him, though, and more importantly, doesn’t pester him about his eating habits.

He leaves through the kitchen and finds Noah talking to Melissa, hands him his beer. They talk about the Mets’ performance, Derek nods along enthusiastically. Then they switch to cars; Melissa’s old sedan has finally given up and she’s looking to buy. Noah tells her he knows just the guy and claps Derek’s back, laughing.

When the initial bustle winds down a bit, Derek offers to do a house tour for Noah.

“They’ve all seen it, helped build and decorate,” he explains offhandedly. “Isaac’s moving in next week.”

He walks Noah through the kitchen, the living room, the study on the ground floor. He points to the basement door offhandedly. “It’s empty now, but we’ll find a use for it. Let’s show you upstairs.”

The upper floor consists of an open space that overlooks the foyer, and a corridor littered with doors. Derek points towards them. “Plenty of room for everyone up here. Peter insisted. Extended packs live together,” he explains.

Derek stays behind while the Sheriff ventures into the room to the far right end of the corridor. The room that’s off-limits to everyone else.

The walls are painted a soft shade of slate gray, with a white upper trim. To the left, a double door awaits, wide open, leading to the master bath. There is no back wall, just a continuum of floor to ceiling glass panels overlooking a deck that wraps around the corner of the building and continues behind the right-hand wall. In the distance, the woods get denser. The view is breath-taking and the sun shines high in the sky. It’s the perfect spot to watch the sunset over the forest.

There is just no furniture. Not a single piece in sight.

“It’s the master bedroom” Noah notes, words carefully measured. “It’s empty.”

Derek chuckles lowly and stares him back bemusedly. “I have no use for it. The architect insisted. He had a vision.”

“He might have been on to something,” Noah says.

He walks further into the room and waits for Derek to join him.

“It’s proofed, I assume.”

Derek nods. “Sound and scent.”

“Ah,” Noah sighs. “That explains that.”

Right there, on the right hand corner, the only clue that this room has a purpose lays in plain sight. There’s a wooden clothes rack. Neatly zipped on a hanger, Stiles’ lacrosse hoodie presides the room. It reads Stilinski, 23, and it looks well worn. The sun coming in through the back wall casts a long shadow on the floor.

(Just as Isaac had suspected, it is, in some ways, a sacred space.)

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinksi #derek hale #pack dynamics #can they make up now please #sterek is eternal #derek hale x stiles stilinski #hale pack

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eeunoia · 1 year ago

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ENHYPEN Mini Series

ENHYPEN as Taylor Swift Songs

BACK TO DECEMBER

synopsis: through ups and down, boyfriend lee heeseung was there for you. he’s the perfect boyfriend girls always wishes for. he was perfect, always good to you and you hurt him.

pairings: lee heeseung x reader

word count: 11k.

warnings: angst, harsh words. (let me know if there’s more)

note📎: i’m not so sure how i did with this one, but here you go. please enjoy! this is the second part of my taylor swift songs series. i hope you guys liked this. your reply and reblog means a lot and my ask are open for you thoughts. thank you and stay safe.

"Y/n! I'll go first." you looked over your shoulder and smiled at your friend while she waves her hand. You gave a short nod and waved as well before going back to what you're previously doing.

As you busy yourself putting your things inside your training bag, you let out a yelp when someone suddenly caged you in an embrace.

You twists your head after hearing this familiar mischievous chuckles coming from the culprit. It was your boyfriend, Lee Heeseung. His smirk was evident despite you shooting him glares.

"You scared me!" you shouted at him then swat him over his arm once after he lets you go.

He grunts lowly but kept his smirk. "Well that's the purpose." he said playfully that earned him a roll eyes from you.

With a small smile you went back on fixing your things and you felt him walks closer then he threw his arm over your shoulder.

"How was practice today, pretty? I heard you killed the evaluation yesterday." his tone sounded too excited to hear anything about your day which is not a surprise anymore. He was always like this. One thing you are thankful for is that he's always ready to hear your rants about life. Whether they make sense or not, he will give you his ears.

"It was exhausting. I'm pretty sure the teacher is trying to give us a hard time." you complained and faced him so he can see how you're really upset about it.

Heeseung chuckles softly, seeing you like this is surely adorable. "Awe," he showed this expression that made you want to laugh. He cupped your face and leaned down so you're both on your eye level.

"Who made this baby upset?" he asks taunting you a bit.

You bit your lower lip then elbowed him. He laughs, but lets out a small groan out of pain. He was exaggerating a bit, but it was normal. This is how you two usually shows affection.

After finishing fixing your things, Heeseung gently steals it from your grip then the two of you started walking out from the dance practice room. Your eyes slowly trailed over him. He's wearing training clothes so you know he's here to train as well. Probably vocal lessons.

You and your boyfriend are both trainees in Hybe. He's the first one to get here and you actually met here before you two became a couple. It was not a secret, but you both know your responsibilities and limitations. Right now, your priority is both your careers. The staffs always reminds the two of you that you shouldn't let the relationship affect your work in any way.

Specially that the survival show Heeseung will participate in is just right by the corner. It's so near. Its just a month away before it starts. They've already been oriented about it.

"How was the photoshoot last monday, Hee?" you tried opening a topic between your boyfriend who's silently walking beside you.

He glanced at you before grabbing your hand to hold it. "Good. But it felt so weird tho. I wasn't totally used to it." he said and you can see how his ears turned red. You thought it was cute how he gets shy just by remembering it.

"I bet your photos will turn out great. You'll gain many fangirls!" you stated excitedly.

You know Heeseung. He's good looking and very very talented. You are very sure people will love him. He's also very funny too, so you don't see why he needs to get worried about it. Yes, being nervous is a part of it but you know he will do just well. And you'll be right here to support him.

He kept his stares at you. Those bambi doe eyes of him whenever he looks at you with so much affection sure makes your stomach go crazy. There's just something about it that you can't point out. Not to mention how his beautiful honey tan skin goes along with it perfectly. You raised your hand and brush his hair once before flashing him this warm smile.

"I know you're probably very worried and nervous right now," you started and eyes slowly trails down from his eyes down to his nose, and to his lips. He pursed it, that made it even look more red. You blinked, getting a little distracted.

"But you'll do very well, Hee. I know it. We all know it." you glanced back to his eyes after finally shoving away the distracting thoughts of his lips and how good they look.

He kept his stares and didn't respond right away. "Yeah. I just can't help but to overthink with all this pressure around me."

Some people may find him mysterious and honestly, you can't blame them. He isn't the type who will tell you everything and opens up very quickly. Heeseung is very reserved when it comes to letting other people see his emotions. You understand him and somehow gets his point. It also took you a while before he started sharing his thoughts with you.

You draws in a sigh before pursing your lips, "Don't mind the pressure. It will always be there, specially because you're very talented and a lot expects big from you. Just enjoy, baby."

Heeseung's eyes sparkles because of the endearment. His hand reaches out for you and pulled you into a tight embrace. You chuckles, inhaling his manly scent as you slowly returns his affection. His lips pressed a kiss at your forehead once.

"I will. Thank you, baby. For always believing in me."

You blushed. He's been calling you endearments ever since you two started dating, but you still blush like crazy like its the first time. Heeseung have that much effect on you. You truly loves him so much.

"I will always believe in you."

He slightly pulls away then cups your face, "And I believe in you too. I know you'll debut sooner as well." his tone sounded so sure. You couldn't even sense any doubt from it.

You flashed a confident smile, "Definitely!" you cheered happily and you both chuckled after that.

Trainee life wasn't easy and they often say that this isn't just about passion. There's so much more about it. Your dreams and future, they're all connected. The risks you are taking for choosing this life instead of going to a good university was no joke. They said continuing this path is only for brave ones. And you are brave.

As expected, Heeseung became pretty busy the following weeks. Meetings after meetings, trainings after trainings, they even started to film some clips that may appear on the show. It was so exciting and thrilling. Hearing stories from your boyfriend makes you feel like you're experiencing them first hand. You are so happy for him.

You glanced at him silently packing his bag while you hang the outfit he's about to wear tomorrow. It's the big day. His big day. They will go to this place and stay there for a long time. It makes you feel sad and longing already for him. After-all, you two had been inseparable ever since you dated. It was always with him that highlights your days. For now, you have to settle on seeing him on screen. The thought of him finally taking another step closer to his dreams, somehow became your only comfort.

"Did you pack everything?" you broke the silence between you two as you hang his pants together with his tie-dye shirt.

His eyes met yours and he smiled, it was obvious that he was thinking about something before you talked. You already had a clue what it is, but you try to keep your mouth shut and let him speak for it.

"Yes. It's not like we're asked to bring too much anyway. They said all the things we will be needing will be there." he says and you nodded your head trying to push back the tears that were attempting to come out from your eyes.

Heeseung has never seen you cry before. He sees you as a very gullible and happy go lucky person. He does saw you get sad and disappointed, but crying? No. Atleast not yet.

He might have noticed the hint of tears at the corner of your eyes so he chuckles and opens his arms wide for you. A small smirk spreads across his handsome face, to hide and cover the sadness that slowly eating him up.

"Come here," he softly says that you obliged right away.

The hug was warm as always. It was one of your favorite things in the world, being caged between his arms while he place kisses at your head and assured you that everything's going to be all right. For Heeseung, this is also one of his safest place. You between his arms, your warmth comforting him and telling him that you're just there for him. He's attached to you as much as you are to him.

"Three months isn't that long, I'll be back even before you know it." he comforts you even without you mentioning that it was that that bothers you.

He knows, because he himself is sad that you'll be away from each other for that long. But you two have no choice. This is for his dreams, your dreams. This is what's best and you are very happy for him. You'll do anything just for him to be successful and achieve his dreams. And you'll do the same for your dreams. You two promised that a time will come, you will watch each other in big screens while attending music award shows together.

"I love you, Heeseung." you mumbled.

His heart races as he pulls away flashing you a warm smile, "I love you." and he leans in to give you one affectionate kiss on your lips.

That night, you spend it while cuddling each other closely. Sleep doesn't seem to visit you and so you just enjoyed staying with him for a bit more. Soon enough, sunrise were there and he has to leave and go to the place where they'll film the show. He waves at you and you did as well flashing him your warmest smile.

"Y/n, have you watched the first episode?" your eyes looked over one of the trainees who excitedly approach you while you're currently working out.

You smiled and nodded your head shortly. She squealed and even did small jumps out of excitement. Another one smoothly joins in the conversation. They're starting to tell you how amazing and cool Heeseung was along with some other trainees that you couldn't catch on.

You just smile politely and responds whenever they ask things. Unconsciously, your eyes darted over the entrance of the gym when you saw one of the trainors were called by a staff. She asked him something and he nods his head before roaming his eyes around the place, like looking for someone. When you two met eyes, he stopped and pointed you towards the staff.

Your heart races as you watch her thank him then walks towards you. She's familiar. You have seen her with some of the managers around the company. There's a rumor that they're trying to form a girl group and will release them soon. The thought thrilled you and your heart can't help but to leap out of excitement and anticipation.

"Ms. Y/n?" the two girls that were talking to you turns their head and bowed immediately after seeing the staff. She returned the greeting and looked back at you.

"Yes?"

"Are you done with your work out? I would like to invite you to the office, one of the managers asked for you." she said using this professional tone. It made you a little worried and anxious, you'll be honest. But you shrugged it off and bravely nodded your head before asking if you can go take a quick shower first.

She said okay and that she'll just wait for you at the lobby. You didn't waste any time and just quickly go take a quick shower and tried to make yourself look presentable as much as possible. When you arrived by the lobby, she's there on the phone. While walking closer, you try to flatten your shirt and fix your hair. Just in time, she glanced at your way and asked you to wait for a while.

You stood there patiently and after she finishes her call, she walks closer and trailed her eyes from head to toe.

"Follow me." she strictly instructs and you just nodded.

As you follow her, your mind is floating somewhere. A lot of questions flooded you and your lungs pressed out air out of nervous. Chills runs over your spine as your heart clamps making it a little hard to breath. Despite all of these, you composed and prepared yourself to whatever it is that going to happen.

You've seen scenes like this. It's either end up good or bad.

The two of you stops outside a meeting room, here is where special meetings are gathered. Near here is the evaluation hall where you present your monthly performance that they will grade. It will dictate whether you will continue as a trainee or you're out.

"Wait here for a while." she says and knocked twice to the door before peeping his head a little.

"She's here with me. Should I get her inside?" she asks the people inside. You couldn't hear what exactly their responnses are but when the girl motioned you to follow her inside, you guess they agreed.

You draws in big heavy sigh before you walked inside, ready to face them and hear what they call for you in.

As expected, familiar faces are can be seen. They all turned their heads at you once you step inside. Strict and cold looking eyes scanned you from head to foot. It made you more nervous because the silence was very suffocating. They all have serious face and none of them are talking.

"Goodafternoon." you tried to greet them even if you're very nervous. Good thing that you didn't startled.

The girl asked you to stand at the middle, in front of the table where they're all seated. It's not very welcoming and has high tension that makes you just want to run outside, but this was all part of it. Monthly, you get evaluated and this are pretty similar to it.

"What do you think?" one of them asks, only she's not talking to you but rather to the person beside her. There's this strict woman, probably on her mid-30s, and she's staring at you with those strict meticulous eyes of hers. You know her. She have a high position in the company, her opinion is very important when it comes to trainees that will be released by the company.

She kept her stares and didn't talk for a while before she draws in a sigh. "Well, she looked decent." it was a short comment, but was enough to make relief falls over their faces.

She sighed, "All right, take her out from Team B and let her be with (band name) for a while. Let's see their chemistry together."

Your eyes almost popped out of its socket after what you heard from her. She didn't said anything afterwards and just fixed her folder and left, dismissing everyone that isn't needed anymore. All of them stood up to bow at her as she leaves the room, you on the other hand was still stunned at what was happening. A part of you wanted to jump and celebrate, but a part of you felt scared. Worried of what's about to come.

Trainee life is already very hard and you heard that once you're part of a debuting group, it'll be much worst. They said they'll become more strict and things are way different. Despite all of these thoughts that are bothering you, the idea of finally joining a group that will be released is very thrilling.

"Y/n? Come with me." your neck craned over to the staff that took you here in this room.

After bowing politely at the remaining people inside, you decided to follow her towards somewhere. On the way, your heart are thumping like crazy. Your stomach churns in an uncomfortable way. The emotions you are currently having are unexplainable.

Soon enough, both of you arrived at a practice room. Your mouth gapped in awe as you roam your eyes around after she guides you inside. Inside were five girls that turned their heads in unison after noticing your presence. Your curiosity subsided and you suddenly felt shy.

One of them went to stop the music and they walked closer, standing in a straight line. Their curious eyes darted silently at you.

"Girls, this is y/n. She will join your trainings and practices for a while and we will see if she fits the group." she asks you to introduce yourself and even if you feel super shy, you bowed.

"Hi, I'm y/n from Team B. I hope you take good care of me." you showed a polite smile for them that they exchanged with warm smiles. Somehow, it made you feel at ease. They all seems very nice.

One by one, they introduced themselves to you. The staff left you with them and the girls instantly hovered over you excitedly. You blushed and felt surprised at them. One giggles and informed you that you are younger so she wants you to call her 'unnie'.

"You're Heeseung's girl, right?" the oldest from the group suddenly said.

You showed a slight shock over your face and nodded your head. One seems to be surprised at the information while others kept their smiles. They all got excited and soon hovered around you to ask about details. It was obvious how they find it so amusing that you are in a relationship with the ace trainee.

“It must’ve been very hard for you right now. Do you miss him?”

Your lips lifts up into a small smile and eyes slowly trailed down your fingers, the familiar bitter feeling overtaking your chest.

“So much. I got used to having him around.” you admits.

“Yah, you shouldn’t have asked that.” one of them whispered and you just smiled a little at them to show that its fine.

A lady entered the room and she introduced herself as Ms. Kim. She’s the one incharge to manage this debuting group. She flashes you a warm smile. For the first time, you felt at ease. She’s the only one who gave you this kind of face ever since you were escorted here.

You mirrored her smile despite feeling a little awkward.

“Y/n, team B. A trainee for almost a year.” it isn’t a question that needs a confirmation, it was a statement. Seems like she’s well aware of your background. It made you feel a little nervous.

“You’re probably at shock right now, but from now on you will be joining them.” she draws in a sigh. “Consider this a chance to take a spot in the debuting group, Y/n. I hope you take this seriously.” she stated, now looking at you with a stern look on her face.

You nodded right away, warmth slowly spread through your chest.

“Yes, Ma’am!”

Things that follows became a blur. The next thing you know, you are spending most of your time with this group training. A part of you expects a lot, excited and looking forward to what’s waiting ahead, but a part of you also worries a lot. The management did told you that this doesn’t guarantee your spot for the debuting group. They’re just checking if your chemistry with these girls will click. If yes, you’ll debut with them. If not? Then you’re back to team B.

“Come on girls! Move those bodies!” the choreographer ordered and like robots you all complied. You sighed and felt your body aching due to dancing too much. The dance moves are no joke. It was crazy and honestly you feel like your bones are not attached to each other anymore.

“Y/n!!” her screams were loud as your small mistake of the dance after missing off the beat caught her eyes.

Your body stopped moving and that caused her to be more angry. She was always the strict type of teacher, the ones who doesn’t let small mistakes slip off and you understand why. You wanted so bad to move, but your body was too strained to even follow the dances.

“Stop the music!” and in an instant, the song stopped and all the girl’s eyes darted at your direction.

This isn’t a new scene for you anymore. Ever since you joined this group, you felt different. You feel like you cannot dance and sing anymore. Like as if all those trainings you've done before did you nothing, like it was all put into waste.

The girls gave way to the instructor when she marched towards your direction. They have this worried look painted over their faces. You teared your gaze away from them and looked at the furious instructor. She looked really mad. You can’t blame her. The clock is ticking and the debut date is approaching fast. They need the group ready and you are causing them trouble.

“I’m s-sorry.” you muttered lowly as you try to keep your tears from escaping your gloomy and tired eyes.

Her clenching jaw is visible and she lets a scoff, “How many months are you training with them again, y/n?” her tone roared all over the room. Nobody else talked after her question. None of them tries to interrupt or save you from her wrath.

You stood there, looking afraid and tired. You are feeling sorry for messing up, sincerely sorry for it. It’s just you feel like everything’s moving too fast for you. Suddenly, you doesn’t fit to this anymore. Like you’ve been stripped off from your life and was put into a different timeline accidentally. It was hard to explain.

“T-Three months.” you answered, stuttering.

“3 months and you still mess this small details?! Are you really a trainee?!” she shouted right at you. It made you step back once and your head lowered. You felt your chest tightens as you bit your lower lip to keep it from shaking too much. Your eyes heaten up, tears pooling already.

“I don’t even know why they decided to put you in here! I don’t know why you’re here and honestly, I want you out! You are ruining the group’s image! You are not fit here!” her loud voice hurts your ears but her words stabbed you like knives.

A tear fell from your eye. Ever since you joined this debuting group you cried too often. Too often that sometimes even if you’re hurting, no tears flows anymore. It was just too... overwhelming. Nobody’s there to comfort you. The company is strict on making you interact with other people. Right now, you have nobody.

Then Heeseung pops inside your mind. Your lips shakes even more and tears flows unstoppable. Just thinking about him suffocates you more. You wish he’s here beside you. You wish he was here, because you’re sure he will know the perfect words to say. He will know how to calm you down.

“Crying again, huh?! Is that all you can do?! Is that what you trained to do here? You’re better off on the acting career!” she has no mercy. Well, she’s strict that way. It’s not that she’s heartless, or maybe she really is, but there are times that she’s nice and caring. It’s just that she takes her job seriously. And with all the pressure for the upcoming girl group of the company, she can’t help but to be more strict.

“That’s enough,” after hearing Ms. Kim’s voice, the instructor stopped talking but you can still her heavy breaths.

She told everyone to leave the room to give you and Ms. Kim some privacy. The moment they all left, your knees automatically lose all of its strength and you fell on the floor. There, you cried. You cried so hard.

“I’m disappointed in you, Y/n.” unlike the teacher before, her tone is more calmer. Her words added to the knives already buried over you.

“We picked you to add to this group, but you are not doing your best.” she said that made you slowly raise your head to look at her.

Her heart cracks at the sight of you. Eyes full of tears, cheeks and nose red from all the crying and the life in your eyes were nowhere to be found. She can’t even see any determination from you. It’s like as if you’ve already gave up.

“I’m d-doing my best, Ms. Kim.” you tried to argue for yourself. You are trying your best. Multiple times you stayed later than everyone else just to learn the steps a bit more. Your voice strained countless times from all the vocal trainings you’ve done.

“Well, I can’t see it.” she stepped closer and helped you get back to your feet. Her concerned eyes wonders over your crying face. She cares genuinely for you. Even if she’s strict and sometimes she scold you, you can feel her care for you. That’s why seeing you like this hurts her as well. She wants you to debut with this group because she saw a potential in you.

“Do you want this, Y/n?” she asks, brushing away some of your hair from your face.

You nodded continuously, “Y-Yes.”

She stared at your eyes for a good minute before she nods her head. “Show us that you want this.” and with that she pulled you in for a hug.

That made you bursts into tears again, “I’m s-sorry, Ms. Kim. I w-will try more. I will try to do b-better more.” she cares your back and soon she asks you to go home to get some rest.

You’re like a lifeless person while entering the quiet dorm. Since you’re training with the debuting group, you sleep in their dorms as well. The whole place was dark since nobody’s here. You sighed and plopped yourself down the floor. The deafening silence of the place adds more weight to your down mood.

The aches all over your body made you tear up along with the hurtful things that happened a while ago. Your mind was blank, you don’t know how your eyes still produce tears. Then your phone inside your pocket buzzed for a text message you just received.

With slow and lifeless movement, you reached for it then checked who it was. You sat up and wipe off the tears over your cheeks as the familiar contact name of Heeseung’s Mom flashed through your screen. She left you a text.

Mom (Heeseung’s)

Y/n-ah, how are you? You don’t visit me here anymore. I hope you are eating well. I know training is hard, but you can do it. I believe in you, we all do. Don’t starve and overwork yourself. Anyway, its the last episode tomorrow and its your day off. I’m just wondering if you want to watch it with the family?

Your heart tugged by the sweet message. It made your tears flow even more. Guilt and slight anger towards yourself ignites as it reminds you how many people are supporting you. Somehow, that gesture help you to gain motivation to continue and give your best.

You took a long hot bath after crying a bit more before finally going to bed.

The next morning, the dorm was still quiet when you started getting ready to leave. You figured the rest of the girls are still sleeping in because its your day off. They probably stayed late yesterday.

You quickly left the dorm after leaving some cooked meal for the girls and a note saying that you’re off to Heeseung’s house. They are often used to it already. You leave far and his house is the closest to the company. That’s why whenever its your day off, you go there to spend some time with Hee’s Mom. To somehow ease both of your longing towards him.

“Y/n!” her cheerful voice greets you the moment you entered the house. You flashed a bright smile and return her warm hug.

You fight so hard not to cry when you felt her cares your back. With pursed lips, you blinked multiple times to push the tears back. You don’t want to worry her.

She pulls off the hug and caress your face, “Are you eating well? You lost some weight.” she says worriedly.

“Don’t worry, Mom (Hee’s Mom). I make sure I eat well.”

She pouts her lips and stared at your eyes a bit more just to check if you’re really telling the truth. Thankfully, she didn’t notice how your eyes are all puffy with all the crying last night. Guess icing your eyes really works.

She served you good lunch and both of you spent the whole afternoon catching up. The last episode will be stream live later so you still have time. Despite the smiles over her face, you can see through her eyes that she’s worried.

You reached for her hand and caress it.

“He will make it, Mom (Hee’s Mom).” you assured her.

Her eyes teared up now that you noticed it. She’s been holding back these tears because she doesn’t want you to be sad and worried as well. Heeseung has been through a lot these past months inside that survival show. But you know he will debut. He’s strong and very talented. A lot of people supports and loves him.

The two of you are hand in hand while the last episode started. Both in tears whenever Heeseung showed up on the screen.

“Lee Heeseung.”

The two of you screamed and jumped while hugging each other when his name was called. You cried with tears of joy then glanced back at the television. He was now hugging the other debuting members and you can see how relieved he is. He stared through the screen and it made your heart thumped faster.

“You made it, love.” you mumbled under your breath, the cries of joy of his Mom as your background.

The joy you are feeling for your boyfriend are too much, but a tiny bitter feeling aches inside of you. At the back of your mind you know things will change. You have no idea how or what kind of change, but you are certain about it. Then your heart aches after remembering what happened to you yesterday.

You can’t help but to be scared. Heeseung’s a step closer to his dreams, while you seem to have taken a step back.

“Baby!” he jogs towards you and didn’t waste any time to cage you into a tight hug. His face nuzzle over your neck, inhaling your familiar scent that he surely missed so much.

He closed his eyes and tighten his hug even more. He can’t help but to feel too overwhelmed. He didn’t realize how much he missed you until he sees you standing outside their practice room, waiting patiently for their break time.

You pull off from the hug chuckling then cupped his face. He stared lovingly at you and it made your heart beat fast.

“I missed you.” he says and his eyes trailed down to your lips.

You smirked, “I missed you more, ace of Enhypen.”

His cheeks turned red and it didn’t slip from your eyes making you laugh. Did you just made the Lee Heeseung blush? He groaned and placed a quick kiss at your neck before nuzzling once again.

“I’m so proud of you.” you mumbled and Heeseung’s felt so contented that very moment.

He’s just starting to achieve his dreams, but he knows as long as he have you he can do it. He don’t know what he will do if he lose you.

He pulls away again and this time cupped your face, “I love you. Thank you for supporting me.” he says sincerely then slowly leaned in to give you a kiss on your lips.

Your heart tugged and blushed so hard. The feeling was overwhelming for you. Having him hugging you like this sends comfort to you. It somehow makes you forgot about your troubles. It made you forget about it even just for a while.

“I love you, Hee.”

He smiled satisfied. “I heard you’re training with (band name)?”

Just the mention of the band’s name almost made you lose your smile, good thing you managed to hold it. The excitement through his eyes tells you that he have no idea how awful your situation was.

You gave a short nod, his smile even grew wider if possible before he leaned and placed a kiss over your forehead following it with encouraging words of, “You can do it, love. We’ll debut together.”

After that catching up moment with him, he started to become busy. You understand and already saw this coming. The only time you can talk to him is when you see each other at the company, which is not that often, and when he’s not that tired after training. Sometimes, he still try to talk to you despite the long day but you force him to get some rest instead. At times like this, rest is his top priority.

Months pass by and their debut finally came. It was very succesful and you are very happy for him. He deserve it.

While things go smoothly with Heeseung, yours become very hard. Its like you just go to trainings just to get scolded and you go to the dorms to overthink. You are restless, both physically and mentally. Right now, you don’t even know if you can make it. You are trying your best, but you just don’t know where you lack.

“Did you watch our stages?” you can almost vision his big smiles through the phone call.

You wiped off your tears and tried not to be too obvious. Heeseung called while you’re breaking down inside the dorms. He finally had the free time and didn’t want to let the opportunity to talk to his girlfriend pass. He misses you so much and he feels like even if you two texts and calls often, it wasn’t enough. He can feel that a lot of things are going on with you, but you only say a few things to him.

“Y-Yes, baby.” you answered.

You bit your lower lip to stop it from shaking.

“Hey, are you okay?” his worried tone snapped you back to reality.

‘Shit’ you cursed inside your head before inhaling and calming yourself down.

“Of course. My throat is just a little itchy that’s why my voice is strained and I have a cold.” you lied.

You heard him sighed, “Love, I told you to take extra care on yourself right?” his tone sounded so sweet and caring that you felt a lump over your throat. A lot of words that wanted to come out, but you chose not to say them. Right now, he has a lot on his hands and you don’t want to add on them.

“I w-will. Thank you, baby. Please take care too.”

He drawns in a sigh, “Surely. I’ll see you when we have free time.”

Both of you bid goodbye before he finally end the call. You cried more that night and the next day, you are back on training.

Time flies so fast. Months passed by already and Heeseung’s group is already making a name on the kpop world. It was crazy. You are happy for him, but you’re so sad for yourself.

Tonight, a day in september, you are called in over to the office hall. The same room where they called you in to announce that you will debut with that group.

“Y/n.” Ms. Kim calls.

Her and her team that was formed for the group were the ones in here. Probably having a meeting for the new group since their debut is coming so fast. The whole stuff are all planned already.

“Yes, Miss?” you are very nervous, but a little hopeful.

You knew you did your best for the past months. You worked hard to earn the position. Even after getting sick, you still try to attend practices and trainings.

“Listen,” she says and gradually glanced away before reaching over your hand to caress it softly.

Your heart sanks at that. Somehow you already know what’s there to come. Slowly, you can feel your chest tightens and your brain being clouded by a lot of thoughts. You couldn’t response at her at all, but you kept your eyes at her.

“You did so well holding up until now. I know you went through a lot and I am proud you made it this far.” she started and you can see through her eyes that she feels so bad to announce to you the news.

“I’m very sorry honey, but I’m afraid you can’t debut with the group.” her words echoes through your mind like a broken radio. You already expected it but to hear it from her just hits different. It was like being hit by a truck and then get run over by another vehicle. It was dreadful and you can feel your whole body almost giving up. If it weren’t for her hug that she suddenly gave you.

“You did so well, Y/n. Totally.”

When she pulled away, you gave her a soft small smile. Of course it was unsincere so you clearly see the worry over her eyes. You bowed slowly.

“T-Thank you for t-taking good c-care of me.” and it almost made her cry.

You didn’t cried at all while saying good-bye to the staff you used to work with. They are a bit teary tho, and they have a small hint of pity over them.

You head straight to the dorms to pack some of your stuff. It was vacant because the girls are back at the company for their practice. You are silent and still didn’t shed any tear yet. You are feeling awful, but seems like your eyes are tired of shedding any tears.

The silence were broken by a faint chime of from your phone, a text message was sent. Your head craned at your side to look at it. The familiar nickname of your boyfriend can be seen, he sent you loads of messages. Looks like the news made it to him as well. As far as you know, he’s busy now preparing for another comeback.

Your eyes were just staring at the phone until its screen turns off. Seconds later, it opened again and this time you are receiving a call from Heeseung.

“Hello?” you tried saying.

From the other line, you can hear him gasping for air, like as if he ran a marathon or something.

“Baby,” he started. “where are you? Are you at the dorms? I’m outside of your building. I want to see you.”

You almost stumble on your own feet while hurrying to go down and meet the only person that can give you comfort. Once you made it on the groundfloor and straight out of the building, there you saw him standing by the side. He’s wearing a black hoody, sweats, a cap and a mask. Since this building is exclusive, its pretty safe for the two of you to meet here.

You slowly walked towards him and he meet you half way. He took off his mask and once you’re out of his reach, he quickly caged you into a tight embrace.

There. That was what you’re waiting for. The hug was like the one that pulled the trigger for you to release everything you are keeping to yourself. Tears flows nonstop, cries whales that broke Heeseung’s heart. He shut his eyes, getting teary as well as he placed a kiss at the top of your head while trying to comfort you.

“It’s okay, baby. Just let it all out. I’m here.” he mumbles and caress your back while you continue to cry.

Heeseung can’t explain how this scene made him feel. You are crying so bad and this is the very first time he saw you like this. He didn’t like it in one bit.

“It h-hurts so bad, Hee.” you says drawing in a much bigger breath because you can feel your lungs pressing uncomfortably due to crying so hard.

Heeseung cups your face, “I know baby. I know.” he cares it using his thumbs and stared at your eyes lovingly, his eyes expresses how he mourn with you.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m just here for you.” and pulls you in another big hug.

“D-Don’t you have practice?”

He quickly shuts off the topic about him, “Don’t worry about it, I can just stay a bit more. You’re more important right now.”

You want so bad to make him go back to his practice but you know you also need him here by your side. For once, you chose to be selfish and make him stay with you.

You nuzzle over his chest, tears still streaming. “I love you so much, Heeseung. Thank you for being here with me right now.” and he didn’t say a single word. Just a kiss at the top of your head as he cages you inside his warm embraces hoping it somehow ease the pain.

A lot changed right after you got removed from the debut line up. You lost your will to be a trainee or even attend any lessons. The effect it left was undeniably impactful. The people close with you felt so bad and doesn’t really know how to help you cheer up.

Heeseung too. Juggling both his career and his relationship with you was not easy at all for the rookie ace. Giving up any of it didn’t became an option tho. No matter how hard it is, he always made sure he will still have time for you. He understands what you’re going through. It was hurting and breaking him to see you like this. The fact that he felt like you are slipping off was so much painful.

“Hi, love.” your lifeless eyes darted at Heeseung when he enters your dorm. He was wearing this big smile while holding some take-outs.

After placing it on the table, he walks closer and quickly pulls you in for a hug. Your eyes can’t help but to notice his newly bleached hair. You don’t know what exactly to feel about it. You should be happy for your boyfriend, since his group is slowly becoming known to the whole world. He’s obviously doing very well. As expected from the Lee Heeseung.

He pulls out from the hug and tilts his head to catch your eyes. You flash him a small smile, quickly pushing away the negative look on your eyes after meeting his.

“How are you today?” he asks, curiously.

‘Terrible.’ you wanted to answer, but stopped yourself from doing so. He may seem like he’s full of energy and all, but you are aware that he’s very tired. Amused at how he can still be here despite the busy schedule, you can’t help but to scan him with your eyes. Heeseung noticed your tired eyes and opens his mouth. He’s about to ask you, but somehow he already knows what you’ll say. He figured you still don’t want to talk about it yet.

“I’m doing fine. How about you?” you tried to sound as much cheerful as you want to, but you’re sure you failed.

“Good. Just a little tired.” his eyes settled at you, looking so affectionate.

His hands snakes over your waist and you felt your heart beat fast. Heeseung never changed, if there’s something that change maybe it was that he became even more sweet and honestly its making you feel guilty. Even if he don’t say it, you know you’ve been neglecting him.

You ran your hands from his arms towards his biceps over to his shoulder before locking your hands behind his nape, pulling your bodies closer to each other. You stared at him as a playful smirk plays over his pretty lips, his eyes softens even more with your initiation of skinship. He missed this.

“I’m so proud of you.” you whispered sincerely making his eyes be filled with so much love.

His hand squeezed your waist a bit before one raised to cup your face, “I’m very proud of you as well, love.” and he leaned in to seal it with a loving kiss at your lips.

Your eyes shuts as the bitter feeling slowly creep towards your chest, poisoning your mind with guilt for a lot of things. Those words he told you, even if he’s sincere about it you are the one who can’t accept any of it. It was painful rather than comforting. You wanted so bad to take it in, convince yourself that you are worthy of it, but always ends up resenting yourself even more.

You two spent the night together. He was so happy being with you and you tried to enjoy the moment as well. The problem was clearly not him, it was you. You are punishing yourself.

Days, weeks continued the same. You are lifeless and with no will already. It was evident with the people you train with. Sometimes you hear them talk.

“Isn’t she suppose to debut with (band name)? What happened?” one whispers while you pretend to continue filling your glass with water.

“I heard that she was not good enough and that she’s ruining the group’s image so they took her out.”

The words stung, but the memories that comes after was the one that broke you. With no words, you exits the room and went straight to a bathroom stall to once again cry, hoping it will somehow take some of this awful feelings away. But no. They don’t go away, they even get worst. You know you need to get away, you need to do something.

“Y/n,” the admin assigned for the trainee looked at you with worry.

You tried flash her a smile. “Please let me do this. I...” your words got stuck over your throat as you stall with your sentence. “..don’t think I can continue anymore. I’m very sorry.”

You lower your head, afraid to see more disappointed look from people. Silence ate the two of you and nobody dares to talk for a while before you felt her pulling you into a hug. It made you tear up, but you pursed your lips to keep those unwanted cries to come out.

“I’m sorry too, darling.” she mumbled and then pats your back before pulling away.

“Okay, you can go. But remember that if ever your mind changes, you are welcome to come back.”

You gave her a nod, but the idea of coming back to this place was not even playing through your mind. You bid good bye to some of the trainees you’re close with before heading towards your dorms to go pack your things. While doing it, your mind always get clouded by the thought of forgotting something.

It's been a week ever since you last saw Heeseung and you are avoiding him as well because you wanted to think throughly of this situation. Your phone was off too the whole day. Your heart aches just by thinking of him. You love Heeseung, you love him so much but right now you don’t know if you can love him well when you’re this broken. He doesn’t deserve to be neglected and so you planned to end what’s between you and him tonight too.

Your hand balled into a fist before you fished your phone and switched it open. The moment it was turned on, your chect tightens at the sight of Heeseung and you as your wallpaper. Both of you looked so happy, these was back to the days that its not yet so tough.

You jolted when the phone started to vibrate and his name flash on your screen. A tear left your eye and your chest tightens. You can feel the pain was eating your whole system.

You threw your head back and shut your eyes for a while before trying to calm youself down. You don’t want to, but you know you have to face him sooner or later.

“H-Hello?”

“Baby! I couldn’t get a hold of you the whole day, I was worried sick. What happened?” you bit your lower lip as your heart swells in an uncomfortable way.

“N-Nothing. I’m sorry to worry you.” and for what will follow afterwards.

“Can you go down? I’m outside your dorm.” he still sounded so worried and after hearing what he said, your head cranes towards the windows. You’re too afraid to approach it and check if he was telling the truth. You don’t know if you’re ready to see him there, waiting for you like always.

Even if he’s not telling you, you are completely aware that deep down he wants to demand from you. Attention, time and affection. He wants all of it from you like before, but he’s just too nice to bother you with it. He knew you are going through something so he will just understand. He loves you too much that your presence is enough for him.

After heaving a sigh, trying to gather your thoughts so you’ll be ready to say it to him properly. You know it won’t make anything better. No matter how perfect you manage to say your thoughts towards him, you know it will hurt him big time.

Just thinking of him waiting outside hurts already, but seeing him right now was even painful. He cranes his head at your direction after hearing faint steps. His brows was a little furrowed out of worry and met you half way. His hands reached out for you to pull you closer to his touch, feeling impatient to cage you into an embrace. It felt warm, comforting like usual but it sends you guilt as well. You can’t keep up with this. You don’t want to keep feeling this way.

“I was so worried for you.” he muttered and soon pulls away so he can look at your face.

Heeseung was taken aback to see your bloodshot eyes. It was very obvious you cried and when he was about to ask you what’s going on, his mouth hang open. For the first time after the night he first saw you, he manages to see how broken you are. Your eyes looks so drained and tired, like as if hiding them was not enough already as well.

“Baby..” he calls softly.

You pursed your lips as it starts to shake, tears pools your eyes. “Let’s break up, Heeseung.”

Your words didn’t process right away. He stiffens as he stares at you blankly, doesn’t want to believe what he just heard from you.

“W-What?” he draws in a strained sigh, chest tightening. “What did you say?” his tone hesitant but he wants to hear it again. He’s hoping he heard it wrong, that you are just pranking him. That all of these are just a joke.

You swallowed, feeling a lump getting in between your throat. The pain was undescribable, it was uncomfy to bear and definitely much more worst than what you felt after getting kicked out from the group. It was crazy how that feeling was beaten. You don’t know such emotions exists.

“L-Let’s end this, Heeseung. I can’t keep going on like this.” you finished your line, the words practiced moments before were all thrown outside the window.

“N-No,” He blinks, eyes starting to water. His hold from you losen and his hands fell over his sides as he stare at you hopelessly. His adam's apple bobbed continuously, trying to swallow whatever that feeling that was in between his throat.

“You are just joking, right?” he tries to push back those tears back because there’s no way he’s losing you. Not right now.

“No, y/n. We can’t. Please, I love you. I’m trying hard, right? I’m doing my best to keep you, why..” his words trailed as he saw how you look dead tired and serious. He realized you are true to your words. That this isn’t just some prank. “...are you doing this? How can you give this up like this? How can you do that when I’m trying hard to fight?” he couldn’t help but to feel so betrayed right now. It was a bitter feeling he never imagined to feel from you.

You lowered your head, tears started to flow nonstop. “I’m s-so sorry,” were the only words you can tell him right now.

He stared at you, shoulders hanging low. A tear left his eyes. He wants to pull you closer to comfort you but he himself was hurting too much right now.

“I’m so tired. I can’t keep on disappointing people—”

“You aren't! Did I ever made you feel like that?! I try so hard not to upset or offend you, because I know how hard that must’ve been feel! I try to give you attention, give you love hoping it will somehow manage to ease the pain! I love you, y/n... so much! I’m always here for you and I will—”

“That’s the point, Hee!” you cut him off lifting your head to look at him straight in his eyes. Letting him see how miserable and broken you really are.

He pursed his lips, jaw clenching while looking at you silently.

“You are doing so well. Being an idol and being my boyfriend! I am very happy for you and very thankful that despite of my shortcomings you made me feel loved. You always make me feel worthy even if I’m such a disappointment.” he took a step closer and was about to talk, but you interrupted him.

“I tried to cover it all up. I tried to convince myself that its just a moment, a phase of my life and it will soon fade away if I tried to focus on the brighter things in my life. But no! Who am I fooling? The guilt is eating me up! The disappointment I was trying to bury behind my back was poisining me all the way in. It was killing me! It was silently ruining me and I can’t keep living with it because I'm so tired. I’m tired hearing things from other people how I’m not deserving of this...” your eyes slowly softens but soon replaced by bitterness as you stared at him, “... how I’m not deserving of you.”

Heeseung shakes his head, disagreeing. He wants to hold you but you stepped back, hurting him.

“I know you don’t think that way, but the problem here is not you. This is beyond your control, Heeseung. It was all on me. These are issues only I can fix. I’m so sorry, but I n-need to end what we have.”

Heeseung was looking at you silently, still couldn’t get over by the fact that you stepped away from his hold, from him. It was a scene not easy to forget.

“I will go back home to our province. I will stop training as well.”

This time Heeseung furrowed his brows hardly. Your eyes glanced away from him, can’t handle the way he stares at you this time.

“What...” he’s actually surprised at what more there is that you’ll reveal. He doesn’t know if he wants to be here to hear all of it, because it gets even worst.

He sighed heavily, calming himself before he face palms and lets out a big heavy sigh again.

“I can try so hard to understand you giving up us,” he starts that made you look at him. “..but you giving up your dreams? That I can’t understand.” he clenches his jaw, finally looking at you in disbelief.

You stayed silent. Letting him say those words at you. Letting you hear it and absorb it all just to match the pain that were already leaving inside of you.

“I will never understand and accept you giving up the dreams you’ve built with me. I was there when you dreamed of it and I know I wasn’t the only one who believed you can.” he steps closer that caught you off-guard so you didn’t have the chance to back away.

Heeseung grabs your hand and gave you a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Your heart cracks and sank seeing it, but after he said the following words, your whole heart crumbs.

“Here,” he says. “Happy Anniversary.” his voice was filled with nothing but pain and bitterness before he turned around then started walking away from you.

Your eyes settled at the pretty flowers as tears flows nonstop once again, bluring your vision. When you finally gather yourself and ready to call him out, he was all gone. Lee Heeseung, the man that you love left with a broken heart. The night felt colder and the painful memory carved something inside your heart. A permanent scar.

“Waah, Lee Heeseung really did make it.” your head shifts to your side and saw how the staffs around you watch him over the monitor with adoration through their eyes. A small smile made it to your face before you looked back to watch him once again.

“I’m so proud of you.” you mumbled to yourself and felt the corner of your eyes slowly burning just by getting reminded of how perfect he was for you.

You snapped back to reality when you heard your instructor clapping their hands. “Chop chop ladies! We need to finish the choreo because your debut is near.”

Without wasting any time, you stood up and went to your position. Your mind was filled with nothing but memories of Lee Heeseung. The happy and sad flashbacks through your mind as you dance to your debut song.

Yes, you went back on training after a couple of months. The company called you, announcing that they want you to be part of a debuting group. This time, you secured your spot and was already introduced as one of the members. The feedback was crazy and you couldn’t imagine that you are currently in this situation when it was hell a few months back.

It’s been seven months ever since that night. You haven’t called or texted him. He didn’t try to reach out as well. You can’t blame him tho. If that night was painful for you, I’m sure it was dreadful for him. You can see him doing well with his group. He’s already making a name and you’re not even surprised.

Whenever you watch him through the screen, your heart aches for two reason. One, because you’re very happy that he’s achieving all his goald. Two, because you miss him so much. You missed how good he was. You missed loving and caring he is towards you. You missed his goofiness, his sweet chuckles, his sweet smiles. You missed his expressive eyes that stares at you lovingly. You missed his tan skin, his warm hugs and sweet kisses. You missed everything about him, you missed Lee Heeseung.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call him?” his manager looks at you with hopeful eyes, one day.

You approached him and ask if you can have Heeseung’s number. He was surprised to hear from you after a long time, but he was also excited. He knew that what happened between you and Heeseung affected the young ace. He may not show it, but something changed.

“No need, manager. I will just text him. I’m sure he’s busy with the preparation for their tour.” you gave him a short bow before waving him good-bye.

Your eyes dropped at the piece of paper he handed you. It’s Heeseung’s number. Their world tour will start next week and you will attend the opening day. You planned to ask him to meet you right after, if he’s willing to. Just by thinking about it, you can already feel your knees weakening. But you know you have to do this. You know you still love him so much and nothing changed with it. His feelings may already did, but you still want to try.

“Bye, Y/n! Goodluck! See you at the dorms.” one of your member waved and showed you a fighting gesture before they started walking off.

With both hands holding a paper bag, you tried to calm yourself down while waiting for Lee Heeseung to show up. You’ve texted him a couple of times already, but you received no replies to any of them. Tonight was day 1 of their Manifesto world tour. It was amazing, Lee Heeseung was amazing. You texted him that you’ll wait for him right here after their concert.

Your eyes grew a bit big as you waved nervously at the familiar person walking towards you.

“I’m happy you make time to meet me! How’s the first day of concert?” your smile was wide while you hold the gift you prepared for him. He walked closer, but not too close. He looked at you silently, roaming his eyes around your face.

Your heart aches at the sight of an unfamiliar eyes. He changed a lot, that’s for sure.

“It was fine.” he answered shortly. You pursed your lips, wanted not to spoil the mood.

“Congratulations to your tour!” tone a bit stretched out now. He nodded his head and his eyes trailed down to the gift you are holding.

“What are you really doing here, y/n?” he finally asked. you gulped and your hold to the paper bag tightens as you looked at him.

“I m-missed you.”

The silence that followed your words was deafening. He stared at you with blank eyes and then you saw how his jaw clenched. He draws in a sigh, calming himself.

“Look Y/n,” he starts. “I’m glad that you’re back on achieving your dreams, I really am. But that doesn’t mean we can go back to how we were before as well.” his tone was stern and cold that it pierced straight to your chest.

“Hee—”

“A lot already changed, Y/n. You broke me so bad that night that it took me a while to actually recover. I loved you, I was ready to fight for you no matter what, but you gave up. You gave us up.” your head hang low at his words.

“You will always have a place in my heart, Y/n. But I’m sorry, I don’t think I love you that way anymore.”

You raised your head and stared at his eyes. Your heart sank when you saw how he looked a bit hurt just by thinking about what happened in the past. You mentally cursed yourself for thinking of getting back with him. You shouldn’t even thought of talking to him.

You tried hard to flash him a smile as a tear fell from your eye. “I’m s-sorry, Heeseung.” you said and you saw how he teared his gaze away from you.

You licked your lips and sighed heavily, “I just want to say I’m very proud of you and that I love you.” and you stepped closer to place your gift not to far from him.

“I hope you’ll accept this. Its just supplements and vitamins to keep you healthy for the tour. Goodluck.” and you turned your heels to start walking away.

Your tears streamed continuously as you ride the car on your way back. The whole night, you cried yourself to sleep then the next day, you tried to busy yourself with trainings. Your members didn’t asked about it. After that day, you swore to yourself that you’ll focus on yourself and career. You will leave him alone because he's already doing good without you.

His tour started and you are happy to see him enjoying it so well.

On the other hand, your debut was a success. Fans loved you and it was the best feeling ever. Somehow it diverts your attention away from Heeseung. As his tour continuous, your promotion went on as well.

You are starting to get known around the country that you’ve been invited at some variety shows. Some fans even started shipping you with one of the artist from the same agency, Beomgyu from TXT. The two of you just laughs it off knowing that it won’t ever happen because he's good friends with your ex. He do loves to tease the fans, tho.

Months pass by and your group was given a chance to do a big show at Seoul. You are very overwhelmed and very happy. These are the moments you’d realized how worthy all the pain and hardships you went through. You lost some, but also gain a lot along the way.

“Again, this is (Band name)! Thank you so much!” and you all bowed altogether before exiting the stage happily, waving at the fans endlessly.

Behind the stage, you cheered together with them and took some photos to post at your social medias. On your way to the dressing room, your eyes looked at your phone when your phone buzzed for a text. It was Beomgyu. You two were hanging out around too much, lately.

“Y/n, I forgot to mention.” your manager starts. “Beomgyu is right by the parking lot behind. He’s waiting for you.”

You nodded and grabbed a jacket so you can go to him. Some of the members teased you that you just ignored before you went there to meet him. He was smiling widely when he saw you, opening his arms to ask for a hug. You laughed and quickly gave him an embrace.

“You did so well, Miss!” he said and smiled proudly.

You pursed your lips and thanked him. “I have a gift for you.” and he pulls off the hug excited and go behind the car.

“What? You don’t really have to—” your lips pouted when you saw a big bouquet of flowers. It was so pretty.

“Thank you, Beomgyu.” you said sincerely as you stare at it, mind starting to flow somewhere else. The scene kind of remind you of something, your heart can’t help but to ache.

“Read the card!” he snaps you back to reality and you chuckled then opens it.

‘Look behind you.’ your brows furrowed at the message, but slowly turned your head.

Your eyes grew big at the sight of Lee Heeseung walking closer. He’s wearing a hoodie, but you are so sure that it was him. Right, today was the day they came back from their tour. You didn’t even realized it. You can’t utter a single word while looking at him. When he stood right in front of you, that's when it finally sink in. He’s here. He’s in front of you. Lee Heeseung is here.

“Hi.” he greeted and smiled a little.

“H-Hello,” you stuttered.

Beomgyu laughs behind you and walks closer. He pats Heeseung’s shoulder before exiting himself.

“W-What...?” you can’t make up a sentence because you’re in a complete shock.

He cleared his throat, his adams apple moved out of nervous. He licked his lips and stared straight through your eyes.

“What are you doing here, Heeseung?” you finally managed to ask, confused and heart racing so fast at the same time.

He sighed, “I missed you too, Y/n. I missed you so much.”

—————

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