#i'll make a better one when it's not 5am

[walnutmistjamie]

#yes you are

[queenpiranhadon]

╰┈➤ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ✿ .ᐟ: While you're making dinner, you make a small offhand complaint about your husband's forgetfulness- however your children overestimate the seriousness of your tone and jump to conclusions, thinking you don't love their father anymore.

✿ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Fluffff, Satoru being a loving husband, you two are married, crack, kisses <33, you and Satoru have a daughter and a son, f!reader

✿ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Satoru Gojo x Reader

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: ✿

You're more than a little sleepy, having just woke up, but besides their looks, if there was anything your kids inherited from their father, it was their appetite.

And thus, when they got hungry, they got hungry - which was why you were being dragged out of bed at the ungodly hour of 5am on your day off, your daughter and son whining that they wanted pancakes for breakfast.

Yawning, you make your way to the kitchen, your kids impatiently asking you to hurry up and you chuckle tiredly, groaning under your breath as you eye the stack of dishes in the sink that you definitely knew weren't there when you last checked.

"What's wrong Mommy?" your son asks, bright blue eyes staring at you with such an intensity you can't help but wonder is your husband asexually reproduced because his children are carbon copies of himself.

You roll you eyes playfully, adopting a faux grumpy face. "Weeelll.. your father forgot to do the dishes last night being the lazy potato he is...so Mommy's just a little annoyed." You say, being sarcastic obviously - Satoru had came home exhausted from a late night at work, and so being the loving wife that you were, you set out dinner for him, knowing he'd be too tired to wash the plate right after.

However, your kids don't detect the evident sarcasm in your voice, the two instead adopted identical frowns on their faces.

"Do you not love Daddy anymore?!" Your daughter asks, aghast.

"What-"

Your son takes his sister's hand in his with a comical amount of urgency.

"We gotta warn Daddy!" he says, and your daughter nods with the same urgency- the two children now bolting to your bedroom.

You groan - what was the point of dragging you out of bed if they were going to your room anyways?!

Sighing, you decide to continue making breakfast, knowing that with the appetite of your husband and children combined, you could probably feed an entire classroom.

You're just about done, adding the last pancake to the sizable stack you created when you feel two muscles arms wrap around your waist.

You chuckle softly, feeling fluffy locks of white hair tickle the skin of your neck as your husband peppers a few sleepy kisses to your shoulder, reveling in your warmth.

"Mmm...morning baby..." he murmurs and you hum, rubbing gentle circles into his forearm.

"Morning 'Toru... did you sleep okay?" you ask and Satoru nods, his answer a little muffled from his face still nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"Yeah...wish I could've cuddled with you more though..." he whines, and you can feel his dramatic pout against your skin.

"Aww...poor baby...is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" You say teasingly.

Satoru grins."Well...there is one thing...maybe a kiss from my gorgeous wife..?" " he suggests, and you laugh, turning your head to press you lips against his, only for two pairs of little hand push your clingy husband away from you.

"No! Daddy's ours now!" Your daughter says adamantly, and you gape at her in mock offense.

"What?!" you say incredulously, and your son nods solemnly.

"You said that you didn't like Daddy because he doesn't wash the dishes!" he says, and Satoru raises a teasing eyebrow at you.

"You said what?" he asks teasingly and you cross your arms.

"I said nothing of the sort!" you say, but your kids are unfortunately extremely stubborn. "All I want is a little kiss, is that so bad?"

Your daughter exchanges a glance with her brother before running straight at you.

"Run! And take Daddy with you! I'll hold her off!" she yells, grabbing some random whisk off the counter and jabbing it playfully in your direction, acting like a sword.

However- you knew that there was no point in fighting back, there was no need.

Because if there was one thing that could beat your children's stubbornness, it was your husband's love for you, and his constant need to shower his pretty wife in endless affection.

Your point was proven the moment your husband and son barrel into the kitchen once more, the latter trying in a futile attempt to slow him down by clinging to his father's legs - a small "I couldn't stop him!" being cried out as your daughter sends him a dirty look. However, before she can do anything, the little girl in scooped up into her father's arms, trapped in his embrace, and squirming profusely and Satoru finally smashes his lips against yours in victory.

When he finally breaks apart, he's grinning at you with a cheesy grin, watching your breathless state with those gorgeous blue eyes you fell in love with. (Your kids are groaning in the background)

Satoru: 1

Kids: 0

A/N: LMAO they're all so silly - lord forbid they're all competing for your attention one day 😭

𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @tootiecakes234 @gina239 @its-liberty-frazblair @lilyadora @callmeanythingyouwant00

@milkm4nz @lightsgore @skaiblu-e @that-one-lightskin @hahajsphaha

@mcgriddleggs @beaniesayshi @abinformyobsessions @sharycatx3 @riririr11

@ladygojooo

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 17

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

Part 17

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

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

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

“Lyla?” you say.

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

“Morning… Is Miguel…” you trail off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Those shoulders.

They’ve carried too much for far too long.

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

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

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

Including you.

But surely, that’s not it. Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time heals all.

Usually.

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

And today is still not that day.

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

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

Are you watching the sunset, too?

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

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

It reminds you of Miguel’s eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m at the gym.” - M

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wait, and wait. And wait.

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

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

“Can you please turn off all the lights?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miguel. After everything that happened with Gabriella.”

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

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

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

“Is Miguel still at the gym?”

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

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

”Lyla?”

“Yes?”

“… I know I shouldn’t ask…”

“You want to know what’s happening.”

“Yes.”

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

Her.

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

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

Suddenly everything clicks into place.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Darkness.”

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tired, you start the day knowing what today is.

Gabby’s birthday.

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

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

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

I’m at HQ. - Miguel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re ignoring Jess’s message.

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

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

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

Today? Things are different.

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

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

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

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

“Ben,” you say, recognizing him instantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miguel?” you try again.

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

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

“Miguel,” you say once more, gently.

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

“Don’t,” you say. “Don’t apologize.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, of course,” you whisper.

“I don’t want to be here right now.”

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

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

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

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

-♡-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s guilty until proven innocent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

“You… do?”

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

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

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

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

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

You gesture to the kitchen. “C’mon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was her favorite song of hers?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so, the two of you sing to Gabby.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod gently. “If you wish me to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t worry about it,” you reply.

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that necessary?”

“It was a jerk move.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel and you chuckle.

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

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

“L?” Lyla repeats, offended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes light up at the idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel’s face softens even more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” Miguel asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you?” he asks.

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

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

“Yes, boss?” she replies, knowing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dulzura?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel hums. “My nightstand.”

“Close to you,” you reply, nodding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eugh, no carrots, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’ll never know now.

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

Just maybe.

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

“You know how it starts!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always,” you replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Night,” Miguel replies.

“Good night,” you answer before she disappears.

“Are you tired?” Miguel asks gently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm - no,” he replies, sleepily.

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

He sighs, yawning. “I wasn’t sleepy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lift your head, Miguel.”

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

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

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

“Sleep, Migs,” you whisper tenderly.

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

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

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

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

He was meant to be a dad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mujeres. ¿Verdad? [Women. Right?]”

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

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

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

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

“She did?” Miguel questions.

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

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

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

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

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

“You learned her name,” Miguel states.

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

“Did you like them?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so does Miguel.

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

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

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

After some time of peaceful silence, Miguel remembers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh. “I’m up for anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You both stare at it, the candle still on.

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

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

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

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

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

The candle’s flame flickers and dances, peacefully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alondra❤️

P.S. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

taglist: @loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp

@rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1 @darksidescorner @geminis93 @1800-get-alife @hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis @f1-hoff @llumetrii

[homestylehughes]

i wanna taste

pairings: jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: after one sight of y/n, jack has to get a taste.

warnings: smut 18+. oral- fem receiving, dirty talk, cussing, use of pet names. fluff, soft jack.

wc: 1.8k

au: hi loves! im on a writing streak (thank you spring break). im back with some jack smut woooohooooo, i realllllyyyy enjoyed writing this, i hope you guys enjoy. like and reblog if you enjoy<3.

happy reading <3

Rain softly hits the window, the soft light from the lamp in the corner of the living room illuminates the room with a soft glow. 

I've been awake for a few hours, my body waking me up at 5 am, turning over to see that Jack was sound asleep beside me, I decided to get out of bed and start my day.

Settling on the couch with a cup of coffee in my hands along with my book, this is where I've been for the last 3 hours. The book captivated me so much I didn't even check the time until I had finished it. 

The clock read 8:15, I was genuinely surprised Jack wasn't awake yet. His crazy hockey schedule kept him awake and up at odd hours, his body probably needed all of the sleep it could get. 

Getting up to get another cup of coffee, and the second book of the series I’m reading, I settle back into the couch and enter an alternate universe. 

I'm so into my book, that I don't even realize Jack creeping up behind me, wrapping his arms around my neck, nessling his face in my neck, feeling  his warm breath fan my neck. 

“Good morning pretty girl” I hear him say, as his face is still muffled in my neck. 

“Good morning” I say back as I crane my neck up to meet his face, getting a good look at his face for the first time today. 

Taking in his sleepy doe like state, hair a mess, eyes full of sleep, leaving evidence that he just woke up. Sweatpants riding scarily low on his hips, his chest bare, allowing me to rake my eyes over it. 

“Done checking me out pretty girl” he smiles down on me, catching me in the act. “Maybe, i'm not sure yet” i muttered back, my face heating with a slight embarrassment. “How'd you sleep?” I ask him, still looking up at him. “Good, really good. Would have been better if I woke up with you beside me” he says, looking down at me. 

“Sorry baby, I randomly woke up at like 5am. I didn't want to wake you up "I say feeling bad, for leaving him in the bed alone. 

“It's okay, you can make up for it now” he says as he begins to lean down, his lips meeting mine in a soft kiss. The angle makes it a little hard for me to fully kiss him, but I deal with it and push my body up further to meet his kiss. 

Our lips moved in sync for a few more seconds before Jack pulls away, resting his arms on the arm rest behind me, giving me a few seconds to catch my breath. 

“That's a better good morning greeting” Jack says as he's smiling, making his way to the other end of the couch, picking up the blanket that covers my feet and slides under it as he sits down. 

The simple movement probably means nothing to him, but it does to me, seeing him so at peace, and calm makes my heart warm. I'm quickly pulled out of my daydream when I hear Jack's voice.

“Has it been raining all morning?” he asks as he's looking out the window, the rain still hitting the window. 

“Yeah it's been raining since i've been out here” i say “it's very peaceful” he replies back softly. Turning his body back to face mine, “what time is it?” he asks, snuggling himself deeper into the blanket like a child, “9:30” i reply back. 

“Dang i slept in” Jack says with an airy laugh. I laugh softly in response, as I go to pick up my coffee mug to take a drink, to only find that its empty. 

“I'm going to go get more coffee, do you want a cup?” I asked him, raising my back from the couch to get up. 

“Yes please that sounds amazing, thank you pretty girl” he says, moving himself back to a sitting position on the couch. 

“Okay baby, I'll be back” I say as I fling the blanket off my body, not seeing Jack's widened eyes as I turn my back to him as I make my way to the kitchen. 

Making both of our cups of coffee I make my way back to the living room, I feel Jack's eyes on me instantly. 

“Here you go baby” I say, holding the hot cup out to him, “can you place it on the table for me?” he rasps out, as I go to place the mug on the table in front of us, I hear Jack speak again “set yours down too”. I look up at him confusingly as I set both cups down on the table. 

“Are you okay Jack?” I ask him, my eyes locked on his face. “Yeah i'm fine, can you come here please” 

I make my way closer to him, standing in front of the couch where he lays, Jack deciding that isn't close enough for him. He puts his hands on my hips pulling me into his lap. His hands moving to rest on my bare thigh. 

“What are you wearing?” he asks me, looking down at my body, i see nothing wrong with what i'm wearing. “Clothes?” i reply back timidly, still confused on why he's acting like this.

“Your not wearing pants” he says, tracing his hands under my shirt, circling his hands on my practically bare hips, causing my breath to hitch slightly. 

“You're walking around the house in a tiny thong, and a shirt that doesn't even cover your ass completely, and you expect me not to do anything” bringing his face to mine, close enough that I can feel his breath fanning on my face. I swallow before saying “what are you going to do about it?”

Before I know it, Jack smashes his lips to mine. The kiss is hot and wet, his tongue quickly entering my mouth fighting and winning for dominance. My hands in his hair pulling him closer to me, wishing that there wasn’t a blanket separating us. 

I began to rock my hips into his to gain some type of friction, I can feel the dampness between my thighs beginning to grow. 

I pull my lips from his and begin to trail them down his neck, kissing and sucking little love bites in my wake, softly biting his ear as I make my way down. I hear Jack's breathing beginning to pick up, moaning lowly in my ear. 

Just as I'm about to trail my way back to his lips, he pushes me off of him. My back is now hitting the couch. I look up at him breathless, waiting for his next move. 

“I have to taste you pretty girl, I've been dying to do it all morning” Jack says, eyes locked with mine as he pushes the blanket of his body. Making his way between my legs spreading them apart as he rests in between them now. 

Tracing his hands up my bare thighs, his hands sliding under the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down slowly, while keeping his eye contact with me. Once my underwear are completely off me, he throws them somewhere behind him.

Jack begins to kiss up my thighs, alternating between each of my legs. My chest is rising quickly now, I need him to do something soon, the tension is starting to kill me. 

“Pretty pussy is so wet for me” he sighs as he slides his middle finger between my folds before pulling it back out, his finger glistening in front of him before sliding it into his mouth. 

Moaning at the taste, his eyes are on mine. This action alone causes me to moan down at him, shifting my hips closer to his face. 

“Tastes so sweet, pretty girl” he says as he guides his face back down to my pussy. “ I think I wanna have a taste now, is that alright with you, pretty girl?” his eyes searching mine for an answer. “Yes jack, please” I breathlessly say to him. 

Not even a second later, jack is diving into my pussy, his tongue finding my clit instantly. My hands fly into his hair grabbing something to hold on to while jack fucks me with his tongue. 

My moans are beginning to fill up the room, along with the sounds of jack slurping up my pussy, like a man who hasn't had a drink of water in days. 

Taking me by surprise Jack pushes 2 fingers into me, continuing to lap up my clit with his tongue. “Jack fuck” I moan out, pulling his hair even tighter between my fingers, the action causing jack to groan into me, sending chills up my body.

I began to push my hips to meet his tongue and fingers, beginning to feel the coil in my stomach heating up. 

Jack senses that i'm almost there, he thrusts his fingers into me, but curves them just enough so that he hits my g-spot. 

Causing my eyes to roll in the back of my head my body arching off the couch, my hips pushing themselves further into his grasp. 

“Right there fuck jack, please dont stop” I groan out. I reach under my shirt grabbing my right nipple between my hands squeezing it in between my fingers, as my other hand starts needing my left boob. 

“Fuck pretty girl, you look so hot from up there” my breath labors at the sound of jacks rough voice “does it feel good pretty girl?” “fuck, you feel so tight against my fingers, taking me so fucking good like a good girl” he says as he brings his thumb to my clit, rubbing and pinching it hard and fast. 

Incoherent things are falling from my lips at this point, the only thing I'm focused on is jack and the dam in my body that's about to break. 

Before I know it I'm cumming, hard and fast. My orgasm gives me no warning as it begins to wash over my body, hitting me like a tidal wave. 

My moans and “don’t stops” fill the living room, my grip on Jack's hair never loosening. Finally coming down from my high, I try to catch my breath, I open my eyes that make their way down to Jack who's looking at me with wide eyes, and a parted swollen mouth catching his breath. 

Making his way up to me, so that he's now directly on top of me, pushing himself up by his arms. “That was the hottest thing ive ever fucking seen.'' Jack says before capturing his lips with mine. 

Pulling back to look into his eyes, before something catches my attention. The cups of coffee on the table. “I think our coffee is cold,” I say, trying to hold back my laugh.

“I dont give a fuck about that coffee anymore” jack says as he laughs back at me, bringing his lips back to mine mumbling “how about we finish this in the bedroom?” before picking me up and dragging me to our bedroom. The coffee being long forgotten about. 

[danieyells]

I don't know if you've done it yet but I would like to request Ren lines? I'm having tokyo debunker Ren brainrot bro 😭.

@otomelover23

You're all very welcome! I love you guys too, so far! Sorry you've been deprived of lazy boi lolol HOPEFULLY THESE SATISFY YOU A LITTLE BIT.

He's a little tsundere I think. He's one of those characters who just wants to be normal but he can't just pretend to be normal because he lives surrounded by chaos so he just complains a lot lolol. . .but i think he's a good guy. Aside from that he does not help his mother captain at all.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Great, shift change. I'm gonna head out then... What? Do I really need to be here for that?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"I think you've got a notification... Aren't you going to look at it?"

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"Who did I disappoint in a past life to end up in Jabberwock... There's no general students or even a single other sane person, and these jumpsuits are a crime..."

"Why do I have to look after all these weird-ass animals? This is forced labor...  Ugh, they're so gross..."

"If you're just gonna stand there, could you go feed the animals in the aquatic zone?  I'm too busy."

"Ugh, why is that clown calling me... ... Whatever, I'll just let it ring out."

you know damn well that if you don't answer the phone you're gonna have to deal with Haru in person. Better to just answer it.

"Oh, hey... Could you open the link I sent you? No, you don't have to sign up or anything. Thanks."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Ugh... Tell me how I'm supposed to sit through classes when I've been up since 4 AM? (yawn) I'm exhausted..."

well if you didn't stay up until 4am--oh who am i kidding i stayed up til like 3 watching a stream and reading datamine stuff and then I got up at like 6:30 to get ready for work I'm no better kekw.

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Ugh... I can't believe I'm hiding right now... Why the hell does that clown have to chase me around at lunch time too?"

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Preach about doing it for the sake of your friends or the animals or whatever all you want— I really don't give a shit. People who say that stuff are just deluding themselves."

i've known people with this kind of cynicism before. once he finds people care about him and a little more stability he'll come around a little more.

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Huh? I can't see that clown anywhere... Hell yes. Gonna get through my watch list. I hope he never comes back."

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'm grinding this game on my phone, so could you not talk to me for a while? Crap, I think my RSI is flaring up..."

in Japanese he specifies tendonitis haha

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Don't people get embarrassed calling out those words when they use their stigmas? It makes them look like LARPers..."

in japanese he says they sound like they have chuunibyou which is much funnier imo lmao. also i guess that means he can say his in his head? since he'd feel embarrassed doing it aloud, maybe he's practiced already lol

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You think I sigh a lot? Got a problem with that? You realize trying to take away people's freedom of speech is power harrassment, right?"

you're starting to sound like ritsu. gonna hurt yourself reaching like that.

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm so done... I'm out of HP... Shouldn't I be exempt from missions and classes since I'm looking after all those animals?"

well based on one of Haku's chats, you can just do missions if you don't go to class, and based on Kaito you can just go to class instead of doing missions. . .but I'm sure Haru forces him on missions anyway lol. . . .

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Pfft... The video of that clown getting attacked by that hawk thing is getting so many interacts. This editing thing's actually pretty fun."

does editing count as a creative effort? i wouldn't be surprised if he switched to Hotarubi next year if so, assuming he doesn't get used to Jabberwock and the animals. Also why didn't he get stopped by Sophy for uploading a video with an anomaly? Unless he uploaded it to an Institute social media site like WickHive or something. . . .

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Gotta change the locks so that clown can't get in again. I've bought enough padlocks to start my own business by now..."

life haru finds a way. sometimes that way is "towa, break down the door" if he runs out of lockpicking equipment.

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"My head's killing me... This is the worst... Rise and shine! my ass... It's basically still the middle of the night. Guess I should padlock my windows..."

5-6am I can understand being 'basically the middle of the night' but after that you're pushing it lmao

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"The cafeteria's way over capacity... The assholes who save seats before its even noon are ruining it for everyone else..."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Why's my pay so low... huh? What's this deduction for? "Consultation Fee: Ritsu Shinjo..." He's seriously charging me for complaining...?"

Ritsu charges for looking at him too long. i'd try venting on wickhive over complaining to Ritsu.

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"That rabbit sure has it good. All it has to do is breathe and everyone fawns over it. Doesn't even have to feed itself. Just wait till it grows up and learns what the world's really like."

WELL BASED ON THAT THE ADULT PEEKABOO WAS STILL BEING FAWNED OVER AND HARU HAD TO STOP PEOPLE FROM PETTING IT BECAUSE IT BITES. . .IT'LL PROBABLY STILL HAVE IT GOOD. Haru takes good care of the animals.

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"Sup... Huh? I'm alone today. I just got up on my own since if I don't that clown'll wake me up anyway."

yeah? it's because of haru? not because of your affinity with the pc being more than half so you wanna be up earlier to spend more time with them? sure.

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Oof, nearly missed the noon raid...  Not like I'll have any time to myself once I get back to the dorm, so I guess I should do it now..."

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"No, I'm not going to sleep yet. I'm gonna watch a horror B-movie. You don't have to think, so they're the perfect thing to watch before bed."

i used to watch/listen to mts3k to go to sleep so. i feel this.

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Well done me for surviving another day... Oh, same to you too, {PC}. I don't how you can do this stuff voluntarily."

SOME PEOPLE JUST LIKE ANIMALS DAWG.

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Huh? I'm going to the campus store to buy some stuff, where are you going? Well, I'm going that way, so...bye."

not sure if shy or asocial lmao. could be both!

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"You're being forced to help out again? Wow, a doormat out in the wild. So? Where do you want me to carry all this food?"

he's helping you even though he doesn't wanna work. HE'S GOT IT BAD.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"This? It's a video I uploaded. People seem really into it. It's of that clown getting chased by a dog and flailing around like one of those inflatable air dancers."

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"What am I doing today? Working at the diner. Oh, if you want to keep me company, feel free to come by. As long as you serve yourself."

it's not a date or anything since he's at work but like. . .he is inviting you to hang out. . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Huh? You were waiting for me to get off work? Oh... Thanks. Wait, that clown put you up to this?! I'm gonna kill him..."

NO NO WE CAME HERE WILLINGLY probably. although it does seem like Haru to be like "oh hey Ren really really likes you, you should go pick him up from work! he'd love that!!" like a real nosy mom who's trying to get his son together with his crush.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"When did it get this late? That was horrifyingly fast... I'll walk part of the way back with you. I was gonna go buy something to drink anyway..."

excuses, excuses. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"Every day here is a fresh hell, sure, but... You're suffering through it with me, so I guess I'll stick it out a little longer..."

'this sucks but you make it suck a little(a lot) less so i can keep going'. yep, that's our tsundere alright!

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"That clown's even more slap-happy than usual lately—it's horrible. Has he got spring fever or something?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Otonashi keeps trying to make me drink some kind of rice porridge with weird flowers in it... It's actual porridge harassment."

considering the flower Towa associates with Ren is poisonous, i think it's safe to assume he is literally trying to poison him to death lmao. also wtf is porridge harassment--i even tried looking it up in japanese and the first thing that came up was someone screenshotting it and saying "what is porridge harassment" lolol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"All this farm labor's bad enough without all the caterpillars and weird plants that are out there now...This is harassment."

what's harassing you, nature? as someone who just had to kill a huge mosquito that came into my room, nature is harassing me too.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I hate cherry blossoms. They're like the flower version of being a legacy kid— all they have to do is bloom once a year and everyone claps."

in japanese what he says is something like 'i hate them just like people born with silver spoons in their mouths'. basically he hates people born into privilege lol i bet he'd have the potential to get along well with haku until he learns he'll be inheriting a shrine. . .then again he's getting along with Ritsu in their own little way

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"This is the worst... It's not even noon yet, how is it so hot? Summer is for extroverts and party animals, I wish it could just be over already..."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"A group trip to the beach? I'd rather die. No decent person would ever go there of their own free will."

butbutbut. think of the summer skins!!!

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Summer was our busy period back home, so I always had to kill myself helping out. Now I'm here though... nothing's changed."

. . .did Ren's family run some sort of seaside shop??? And he happened to end up afraid of the ocean and hating aquatic creatures and such?

(between 8pm and 5am)

"How can the A/C be banned in the dorm...? Who gives a shit what temperature some anomalous animal that sneaks in prefers, humans should come first..."

okay i agree with him here though what the fuck kind of rule is that. can we talk to hyde about that, that's insane haru.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"Now it's getting colder, I nearly found myself feeling grateful for this tragic jumpsuit... Am I being brainwashed...?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Fall, the season of the harvest—I'll stick with cup noodles, thanks. "Fall, the season to enjoy the outdoors"—screw that. I'm gonna make it the season of naps."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Look—I got bitten by some weird bug anomaly. To hell with the stupid bug spray ban, I'm buying some."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I feel like the mountains are rowdier when there's a full moon. Pretty sure my enemy encounter rate goes up when I'm on patrol too... Maybe I'm just imagining it."

is 'enemy encounter rate' here referring to people or anomalies. . .because if it's people then that's just because of tsukimi. . .although I wouldn't be surprised if there were a lot of anomalies or anomalies were more active on full moons.

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"There's less patrols in winter but anything involving water like washing up gets even worse... Ugh, I wish I could hibernate too..."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Since the climate in Jabberwock's so messed up, sometimes it's actually warm in winter. The blizzards are way stronger though..."

have you tried pissing towa off less?

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Oh god, I just saw what's in the diner's new Mystery Hot Pot... It's gotta be a matter of time before this place goes bust..."

i mean if they had ordinary health inspectors maybe lolol

(between 8pm and 5am)

"That clown broke my window so my room's like a freezer... Oh, don't worry. I just took his room instead."

lmao imagine Ren invites you to hang out and takes you to Haru's room instead of his like nah he broke my window so i'm using his room and he can freeze.

His birthday: (July 25th)

"You got this for me? That clown's been spreading my personal info around... No, it's fine, I'll still take it. Thanks."

i guess he doesn't really tell people his birthday, huh.

Your birthday:

"Happy birthday, {PC}. ...Isn't it kind of rude to look so surprised I'd celebrate your birthday? That came from the heart, you know."

I MEAN YOU NORMALLY DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING. . .it's happy surprise!!!

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. My resolution? Escaping the hell hole that is Jabberwock, for starters."

well you got here in like September or something so. you've got a while befor eyou can switch houses lmao but you can do it this year!

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"You got me chocolates? You're the type who does all this kind of stuff, huh? No, it's fine, you went to the trouble and everything so I'll take them."

i love when characters kinda mock you for doing getting them something but then they're like "nonono i want it gimme--" lolol from Ren especially it's very tsundere. poor guy wouldn't be straightforward about his feelings unless a damn life was on the line.

White Day: (March 14th)

"{PC}... Here, if you want them. I just bought the first thing I saw, so don't read into it..."

i bet it's actually really nice lolol

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Guess what? I got special permission to switch houses. That nightmare is now behind me! I wish..."

Halloween: (October 31st)

"I hope everyone who gets excited about Halloween lives in misery for the rest of their lives. Why the hell do I have to help out with this stupid themed tour?"

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Can I ask you a question, {PC}? You don't still believe in Santa Claus, do you? Never mind, it doesn't matter. Have a good Christmas."

i mean. . .after coming here santa is a plausible entity to believe in. . .if there's gonna be a santa i don't wanna be caught not believing and missing out on gifts. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Where'd she go...? Whatever. Guess I'll catch up on some of my games."

(13 affinity and above)

"Pfft... This edit's awesome. I'm a genius. I'll show {PC} when she gets back."

true bonding is sharing the funny memes you worked hard on. . . .

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"It's not like I was waiting for you or anything. It's just this hell hole is even more unbearable when you're not around..."

YEP THAT'S OUR UNFORTUNATE CUSTOMER SERVICE EMPLOYEE TSUNDERE ALRIGHT. His lines don't really get super affectionate but. They still have a charm to them when you realize how much he hides his feelings in the usual tsundere way. He likes you a lot but like. . .it's a bother and it's embarrassing. . .and what're the chances you're into him? He'll just invite you over to watch movies and play games with him and stuff. . .and tell himself it's fine to just be friends until it eats away at him. . .or until Haru spills the beans for him--

this took way too long because i got distracted like three times in the middle and my laptop started freaking out and i had to figure out why and close and reopen everything about 8 times hahaha. . . . OKAY TIME FOR ME TO GO TO BED! I hope this satisfies you a little bit!!

[jals-stuff]

hi girlie!! i see that your requests are open... can i pls request hurt+comfort on orter with a flirty girl reader pretty please??? the lack of orter fics is crazy T_T

(guess who btw :3)

why hello there, dear. I'll guess you are m***i, and I agree, there aren't enough works on him.

Anyway, here's a poorly, quickly written one. It is supposedly proofread but it's 5am and I am very eepy!

Just a flirt!

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: none!

“Took you long enough.” 

You blinked a few times as he looked up from his paperwork, and mostly at the report you were holding. You had spent longer than necessary on this paper you’d received from Renatus, correcting rewriting the entire thing as it was just full of mistakes and this jerk was too lazy to give you anything that was decent.

“What, did you miss me that much?” You raised your eyebrows with a slight smile as you chuckled to yourself. Oh yeah, that was funny. Orter didn’t seem to find it amusing, as his expression didn’t really change at all. You made your way to his desk and sat on the chair facing it, handing him Renatus’ report.

He decided not to dwell on that stupid remark of yours and started reading the paper, taking notes on the side and making sure nothing is missing. Meanwhile, you were staring carefully studying his expression, and every single small nod he gave while reading.

“Renatus isn't usually this thorough with reports. Colour me surprised.” He blankly said and slid the report inside one of his drawers. You raised an eyebrow and looked at him with a proud grin. “Renatus gave me a piece of scrap, so I rewrote it entirely using the information he gave me.” you stated, crossing your arms as you looked at him, visibly waiting for some praise.

He stared blankly for a second and sighed, adjusting his glasses. “Well done, (Y/N). Very good work.” Though he was praising you, his expression didn't change that much and you could just feel how exhausting it was for him to give compliments.

“Mm, mm. That's right. I’m always good with my work when I know you'll review it…” You trailed off, looking at him with a satisfied smile and a small wink. He raised both eyebrows at your obvious flirting and chose not to comment on it, but you weren't done anyway.

“Anyway, I think I deserve more than just a little compliment! I rewrote the entire thing, you know?” You playfully pouted, putting on a dramatically sad, puppy eyes expression for him. Orter pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh; he knew you wouldn't back down anyway.

“That was amazing work, (Y/N). Rarely have I ever seen a report written with such incredible finesse and precision.” He said blankly again, and it was clear he didn't mean it that much, although there was a part of truth in his words that he refused to admit, even to himself.

“Thank you, thank you.” You chuckled, knowing very well that he was exaggerating, but seeing as he played along, you decided to push your luck a little. “So what, am I getting a reward for all this hard work?”

Even if his expression didn't change, you could read him like he was an open book. “Was the praise not enough?” was probably what he thought at this point. You could've stopped there and brushed it off as a joke but your ego had been flattered just enough to make you bolder.

“How ‘bout… a little kiss? Just on the cheek! Like mwwwah!” you mimicked a kiss while pointing at your cheek and were absolutely convinced that your imitation was flawless. Of course, you were partially joking, and assumed he would just sigh and dismiss your comment, but no such luck.

“I have better things to do than to entertain your delusional little fantasies.” He simply spoke and grabbed his pen again to fill out some of his paperwork. Ouch. But that was his whole personality anyway, of course he wouldn't give you a little kiss, you already knew that, but hearing him say it this way tugged just a tiny bit at your heartstrings.

“No fun.” You sighed and crossed your arms on top of his desk before nesting your chin in-between them. “I am being highly underappreciated here.” You whined dramatically, and then regained your usual smug expression. “That's okay though, you're still my favourite.”

You could tell you were slowly but surely getting on his nerves, and it was kind of amusing to see him have to close his eyes and take a deep breath before focusing on his tasks again. He was already being very patient by allowing you to laze around in his office when you had free time, but he was gradually starting to regret this decision.

You were already done with your work for today, and sat in Orter’s office simply to enjoy his company. He knew, and for some reason he tolerated your presence as long as you didn't disturb him too much. 

Was any of your flirting serious? Of course it was. You genuinely liked him! You had been blessed with a sweet voice and a pretty face, and most of your colleagues at the Bureau would've dreamt of being in his place right now. He was very much aware of that, but it seemed off to him.

Even though your coworkers kept flirting around with you and quite literally trying to slide in your pants, you had denied every single one of them. From nameless staff members to the Flame Cane, none of them had your attention except Orter, and all of your flirting surely showed it… or so you thought. Things were awfully different in his mind.

Now, you were just looking at him and his paperwork, fiddling with some trinkets on his desk. Being in the same room as him was almost enough for you, but you kept feeling this physical need to flirt with him, to demonstrate how much you liked him, and you would've thought he had a clue, as you kept making it painfully obvious.

His eyes travelled to your hands as he put one of his papers down. “Stop it.” He ordered, and you immediately let go of the trinket you were toying with in a deep sigh now.

“But I’m bored.” You mumbled, and he put down his pen, his hands now joined on top of his desk. He looked at you for a bit, your almost childish behaviour was starting to irritate him slightly.

“Then leave.” He raised his head slightly as he took off his glasses to wipe them. “Nobody asked you to sit here and disturb my work with your… immature antics.” Ouch, another one, but at this point, you were used to his spiky remarks and simply shrugged it off.

“Aww, but I'll miss you if I leave, you know~?” Again with the puppy eyes, making your expression unnecessarily dramatic again even though you meant every single word you said; but saying it in a completely blank tone would embarrass you way too much. “And I know you'll miss me too, hehe.” You playfully added.

He put his glasses back on and gave you a very stern look and raised an eyebrow very slightly. “Surely, there are other victims that await your attention somewhere else. Why not pay them a visit instead of constantly disrupting my focus?”

He sure was in a foul mood today, wasn't he? But his comment felt like a sharp blade into your stomach and you just needed an explanation for it. “What is that supposed to mean?” Your flirtatious demeanour was temporarily suspended as you weren't quite sure what you'd just heard.

“Are you already done seducing your other colleagues? Must I suffer your incessant flirtations in their place now?” He asked again, and it didn't sound like he was being sarcastic at all, but at least you now knew.

“Orter… are you jealous?” You asked, and your tone was dead serious. It was inimaginable that he could ever feel jealous about something so petty— something you hadn't even done in the first place.

He took a deep breath. “Nonsense. This is wishful thinking; I am merely aggravated by your attempts to turn me into one of these loyal… dogs you have around at the Bureau.” he scoffed, and you could tell he was not pleased with your behaviour.

“...what?” was all you could utter, as you looked at him in disbelief. “You don't know how wrong you are about this, clearly.” You didn't want to be rude to him even though he really deserved it right now, but you seemed to be testing each other's patience.

“How wrong could I be? These people are head over heels for you. Surely, this doesn't happen without a push.” He firmly stated, and again, he was wrong. “Whatever have I done for you to think I’ll be one of them?”

You had always hated arguments, but having one with Orter was the worst that had happened in a while. He was fully convinced that you were but a flirt, a temptress that relished in having people crawl at her feet… but that wasn't it, and these people weren't exactly crawling either.

“How can you say such a thing?” You looked at him in heavy disappointment. “How could you think such a thing, after all of… this?” After all of the obvious flirting you gave him, the endless remarks about how you miss him when he isn't around or your constant winking.

He was just staring in religious silence, thinking you'd give up and simply admit your faults so he could go back to work without any disturbance, but he was once again very wrong, and you needed to justify yourself. 

“Why would I flirt with anyone other than you at the Bureau?” you asked, standing up from your chair and placing both hands on the desk in front of him, and he simply adjusted his glasses on his nose.

“Because that's who you are, it would seem.”

You sat back in defeat, looking at him, completely dumbfounded. Every word you wanted to say ended up getting swallowed in the whirlpool of emotions you were feeling, and you couldn't do anything else than stare at him. You could physically feel your heartstrings being pulled now and it was disturbingly painful.

“Is…” you swallowed your emotions down before trying again. “Is that really what you think? That I'm just the type of girl to flirt around and just… sleep well afterwards?” Your tone made it obvious that you were hurt, and it didn't go unnoticed. 

But he was convinced. Convinced that your flirting was not a rare occurrence, that it extended beyond the limits of his office, that surely you had already done it before and he was probably just one of those targets you'd use to boost your self-esteem. Even though he was upset with you, his goal wasn't to hurt you, and he decided to avoid your question, not knowing what to answer anyway.

“I don't even know why you're trying to justify yourself that hard.” He finally sighed and grabbed his pen again, which was his way of telling you that this conversation was over and you had to leave; but you wouldn't let go just yet, not before you had said your piece. 

“Because it's you we're talking about.” You blurted out, once again flabbergasted by how dense a man could be. “How straightforward do I have to be for you to understand? Have I not been vigorously flirting with you?” You asked loudly, almost laughing nervously.

“You sure have, but—”

“Have I not made it crystal clear that I am into you? That I want to spend time with you?” Oh, you had no will to listen to his flawed reasoning and you just couldn't take it anymore. You were trying your best not to tear up in front of him already, and any more of his baseless accusations surely would make a sufficient push to make you cry.

“I never said you didn't d—”

“Then why are you so blind to my feelings?” You interrupted again, but this time way calmer. You sat back, weakly plopping down on your chair and staring down at his desk for no apparent reason. He didn't really say anything. In fact, he was processing the information you had just given him.

You felt terribly awkward after your half confession, and that clumsy part of your personality couldn't take the silence anymore. “How can someone that dense be in charge of the Magical Power administration..?” 

Were you jesting? Probably. But what else could you do anyway? Your main goal was to keep your composure and hold your tears back, at least until you were out of his line of sight. His eyes were on you, they had been the whole time, but you couldn't muster the courage to look at him anymore.

“May I speak now?” He asked, first of all wanting to make sure you wouldn't interrupt him anymore, and only now did it occur to you, how rude you had been these last few minutes. You gave a nod and he sighed deeply, joining his hands against his desk and looking at you with a bit of a softer expression.

“I never said you haven't been straightforward.” He started, and now that you were a bit calmer than before, you could feel your shame grow at his words. “I never said you didn't do all these things you talked about so… fervently. I am merely saying that I do not believe you are exclusively trying to seduce me.”

You sighed again, and he braced himself for another rant but instead of justifying yourself again, you ran a hand through your hair and took a deep breath. Looking all sad and defeated wasn't like you at all, and you needed to prove yourself to this dense, silly, overworked man.

“I don’t get it. Why does the fact that I supposedly am flirting with other people bother you?” You decided to ask, your arms crossed over your chest as you were now back to studying his expression and tone. If you were going to cry, so be it, but you wouldn't go down without a fight, especially for him.

He takes a minute to think, narrowing his eyes slightly. “What bothers me is the way you act with those people, and how you pretend to be innocent afterwards.” You gave him a confused look and he decided to develop. “The way you politely smile at them and make small talk. You're almost inviting them.” He said that while keeping his straight face and cold glare, completely serious.

Oh. Oh. 

“So you are jealous.” You couldn't help but smile a little and finally look up at him, only to be met by an utterly confused Orter, ready to absolutely deny your claim.

“I am not jealous, (Y/N).”

“What if I stopped talking to all of them then, would it make things a little better?” You offered, suppressing a smile and pretending to act serious. He seemed to think for another minute again and leaned back into his chair.

“Yes, I believe it would.”

Ah, you couldn’t take it anymore and just burst out laughing; he didn’t seem to like it very much but it was impossible to resist. You just had to make sure again, and so, you slowly regained your composure and caught your breath, then exhaled deeply. “So, let me get this straight…” you started, and he listened. “What upsets you is the fact that I am supposedly flirting with other people, and if I didn’t smile at them or made small talk, you wouldn’t mind my flirting?”

You did not miss that sigh of relief. He adjusted his glasses again and crossed his legs, looking at you very seriously. “I am glad to know that you have ears.” He said blankly, his expression still so cold as his eyes landed on yours again. “Are you making fun of me now?” His voice sounded slightly irritated and you had to calm yourself down again.

“No, not at all. But you just admitted to being jealous so… I win.” You could feel all of your earlier worries dissipating. He wasn't denying it either, instead looking like he was thinking about your reasoning; you had him cornered now. 

And the best part about all of this is that he has no clue what he just signed up for.

[dorabledewdroop]

The White Healer Chapter 4

Note: Hi guys, I'm really sorry for not posting sooner. I've had a couple of family problems and haven't exactly been in the best headspace. I'll work on posting more frequently. I hope you like this chapter, it's longer than other's cause there's so much I wanted to put out there.

Warnings: Blood, graphic description of injuries, angst.

Summary: Just a chapter where everyone gets to know reader better.

Series Masterlist

X--X--X--X--X

As it turns out, the team building activity that you were dreading turned out to be Jenga. While unsure how it built team character, it did work on making your more comfortable with the rest of the team. Due to you still being new to the team, you had requested a month to work out by yourself so that you could get back into shape. As horrible as the scientists had been, they did teach you an efficient way to get into peak performance. Working out from 12am till 5am everyday was good enough. Within the third week, you had already noticed the definition of your muscles, you’d put on pure muscle mass, and your stamina plus healing ability enabled you to sprint approximately 20 miles without stopping. It was going well until one day, you were working on the punching bag and were so focused that you lost track of time. It was 7 am when Natasha and Steve returned from their daily run and saw you workout. You hadn’t noticed them due to the music playing out loud. Natasha, however, saw you and immediately ran towards you. You were brought out of your headspace when you saw Natasha grab your arms, unshed tears forming as she stared at your hands. Steve stepped closer and was horrified to find the ground and punching bag covered in blood. Upon closer inspection, he found your hands caked in blood too. You looked at them confused.

“What?” You asked concerned, completely unaware of why they looked white as a sheet.

Natasha and Steve looked at you with wide eyes.

“Why are you covered in blood y/n?” Natasha asked, letting go of your arms now that you’d stopped punching the bag and brought them to her sides.

You looked even more confused.

“I was going to clean it up when I was done?” You said uncertainly.

“Is this… common for you?” Steve asked slowly.

You hesitated for a moment. Natasha seeing your clear discomfort of being caught off guard came up with an idea.

“How about this, y/n cleans up the gym and herself and then the 3 of us can sit together and figure out a.. neater way of you working out?” She suggested.

Before you could say anything, Steve agreed and the two of them walked out. Grumbling you started to clean.

The first thing you noticed was Natasha staring at your hands as you sat down. You leaned towards her and put your hand on her cheek. You didn’t fail to notice the way she almost leaned into your hand.

“I’m completely fine, Nat” You reassured her.

She looked at you with a vulnerability that took your breath away. It was at that moment that Wanda entered the kitchen. She paused as she noticed the two of you, you started to lean back but froze when Nat grabbed your hand and brought it back to her cheek.

“Please” she said, “I need to know you’re okay.. there was so much blood..”

Wanda frowned. Whether she was upset or confused, you weren’t entirely sure. She walked towards the two of you and sat down next to Natasha. Natasha didn’t break eye contact even when Wanda gently rubbed her lower back. You brought your other hand to Natasha’s face and leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead. This seemed to reassure her greatly as her shoulders relaxed.

“I promise you, I’m completely okay” You said softly.

Your eyes darted to Wanda for a second, expecting protectiveness or anger but all you were met with was a warm look of concern that melted your heart.

“I’ll explain everything” you thought loudly. 

Wanda nodded her head, indicating she’d heard you. While you’d given her explicit permission to read your thoughts at any given time, she was still hesitant to do so. The three of you stayed like that for a few more minutes until you heard someone’s footsteps nearing. You could physically see Natasha’s walls coming back up, Wanda too. You sat back in your chair but held Natasha’s hand underneath the table. She gently squeezed in gratitude, her face showing nothing. Steve entered the kitchen and faltered when he saw the three of you sitting in silence looking at him with the exact same expression. Clearing his throat, Steve sat down next to you on the opposite side of Natasha. He looked at you expectantly. If he was confused by why Wanda was here, he didn’t show it. 

“I was wondering if you could tell us a little bit about what happened in the training room?” Steve asked gently.

You took a deep breath and began.

“Okay so, shortly after I.. um.. got my power.. I went to the hospital in a different country and immediately began to heal patients with chronic and terminal illnesses. Cancer, ALS, Alzheimers, and so on. Unfortunately that gained the wrong kind of attention. The government had kidnapped me and taken me straight to a remote facility. They um.. tested the limits of my self healing. They’d break bones, cut off limbs, electrocute, and do a bunch of other things.”

You were unable to meet anyones eye-line, your body remembering each and every single thing they’d done. It was another side effect of the power you gained. While most people tended to forget the physical pain their body experienced over time, your body learned and remembered every single feeling it went through. Every cut, tear, burn. You could feel it all the moment you tried to remember it. Your body won’t ever lot you forget. Wanda had heard your thoughts and had to use everything in her power not to start bawling the moment those images came to your mind. Her grip on Natasha’s lower back tightened, she relayed what she’d heard to Natasha in her mind and felt Natasha’s body stiffen as she registered what happened.

You looked up as Natasha’s grip on your hand tightened, only to see the two women barely holding it together. Realising what transpired, you let out a weak smile and continued.

“Once they realised there was no limit to my regenerative capabilities, they attempted to train me for combat. They’d get fighters to take turns beating me into submission for hours on end until I learned to defend myself. I um.. I’m not good at combat.. So they tried to train me for um.. you know what, never mind. Basically they taught me to train past my body’s limits by constantly healing myself. They did it for years on end until it was ingrained into me. So yeah.. That’s why you saw what you saw..” You concluded.

“I’m so sorry, detka” Wanda whispered in your head.

“It’s alright, it’s in the past” you replied

“I can help train you in combat.” Steve said. “You could become a vital part of the attack te-“

Natasha scoffed, bringing his attention to her. He leaned back startled as he saw Natasha glaring at him and Wanda’s furious eyes glowing red. Both of them had the urge to throw him through the nearest window. You merely stared at him in shock. Tears made their way down your face. You withdrew your hand from Natasha’s and stood up.

“I’m sorry I need to go” you muttered, and hurried out of the room.

“Y/n” Wanda called out but it was too late, you were out of earshot. Natasha continued to glare at Steve.

“You ever suggest that again that again and I’ll test just how strong your healing factor is.” Natasha spat, standing up abruptly.

“I just meant-“ Steve tried to defend.

“We don’t care.” Wanda stated firmly. “She just told you what she went through and you thought of weaponising her just like those assholes.”

“Langua-“

“Don’t” Natasha warned.

She walked away before Steve could plead his case. Wanda glared at him one last time before following her out.

“FRIDAY” Natasha called out. “Where is y/n right now?”

“I believe Miss Y/n is one the roof.” FRIDAY stated

Holding hands, Natasha and Wanda made their way to the roof. Natasha reflected back to how she felt when she saw y/n work out and their interaction in the kitchen. She felt a little scared. The red room had trained her to always be in control, regardless of whether it was in bed or any interaction with others. Sure, she pretended to be submissive in front of her targets, but she was just toying with them. Even with Wanda, she was in control. But y/n.. that girl was something else.. For the first time in Natasha’s life, she wanted to give up control. She felt so safe and comfortable giving up control in y/n’s presence. It scared her but also excited her. 

Since the sun had already started to set, the cold had set in. Being Russian and Sokovian, the cold didn’t bother them that much. The were, however, concerned about y/n. She wasn’t from a cold country. Natasha was glad to see that Wanda had brought a blanket without any prompt. When you didn’t acknowledge their presence, they slowly sat down on either side of you. Wanda draped the blanket over the three of you. While she didn’t say it out loud, she secretly enjoyed the feeling of the three of you cuddled together. She knew Natasha definitely felt the same, she just hoped you did too. The girls simultaneously rested their head on your shoulder, both surprised to feel muscle instead of bone. The rigorous workout must be effective.

“I have a request” Natasha started.

You hummed in question.

“From now on, could you please train with either me or Wanda? We won’t train combat, We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Just, please don’t push us away.” She said.

Your head turned to her, only to notice the lack of space between your faces. Your eyes flitted down to her gorgeous lips and back. Natasha’s heart stuttered at the action, waiting for your next move. You looked away into the distance and nodded.

“There’s something you should know.” You confessed. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth downstairs.”

When you were met with silence, you continued. 

“After they realised no matter what torture they used, I would refuse to fight and hurt others. They tried to train me to do suicide missions.. I.. they would strap bombs to my chest and blow me up as I walked to targeted spots as training.”

Both of the girls held your hands as tears made their way down your face.

“It hurt so much” you croaked. “The feeling of my body being torn apart and nerves slowly growing.”

Unable to take anymore, you let out a sob. Immediately Wanda enveloped you in a hug, Natasha doing the same until you were sandwiched between them.

“No one is going to test on us” Wanda whispered. “Not anymore.”

You continued to sob into her shoulder as they whispered words of comfort in your ear. Eventually, you found yourself laying down between the two women. The warmth their bodies provided and the exhaustion of your mind caused you to fall into a deep sleep. For some reason it was the best sleep you’d ever had.

The dynamic between the three of you had completely changed after that night. They were definitely your best friends. No matter how much you wished they could be more, but they were together. They didn’t need you in their relationship, you’d just hold them back. You didn’t let that bother you, no matter how guilty you felt at times during movie night when the two insisted you sit besides them. A week later Steve came up to you as you were eating breakfast.

“I’m really sorry y/n. It was incredibly insensitive of me to suggest what I did that night” he said. Natasha was reading on the sofa, but you could see her eyes on Steve, intently listening to what he was saying.

“It was never my intention to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. You absolutely do not have to train combat if you don’t want to. We all value you as a team member just the same.”

You slowly nodded your thanks. While you appreciated his apology, you were more nervous about your first workout session with Wanda and Natasha. They said they both wanted to be there for your first time as a group workout.

You entered the gym and noticed that the two women had already started working out, Wanda doing squats while Natasha was stretching. Your jaw dropped as you witnessed the two working out in their sports bra and tights. Natasha’s toned abs on display as she did the cobra pose. Your eyes shifted to Wanda and your knees felt weak. You saw sweat make its way down her neck and get lost into her cleavage. Feeling like a pervert for staring you cleared your throat and mentally cursed yourself. Both of them paused what they were doing and started walking towards you. Wanda grinned in excitement while Natasha smiled welcomingly.

“Alright y/n. Why don’t you tell us what your workout looks like and we’ll figure out a safer way to get the same results? Maybe Wanda and I can help spot you too.” Natasha asked.

“Oh cool. Okay, so basically, I run for a little bit. Then I do some strength training, followed by some bag work” you replied, already starting to stretch.

“Perfect, we can join you in running, I was planning on doing legs today, maybe we can workout together?” Wanda suggested. You nodded in agreement and the three of you walked to the treadmills.

“What speed are we running at?” Natasha asked off handedly.

Without thinking “We’ll start with 20 kmph and go from there?” You said, increasing the speed and began running. 

Wanda froze. Refusing to back down, she started the treadmill and began running at full speed. 5 minutes later Wanda was panting, slowing the treadmill down and looking at the other two in amazement. She noticed Natasha wasn’t doing to great either. Around 10 minutes later Natasha slowed down, unable to maintain the pace. Natasha’s face burned as she realised you had unintentionally outlasted both her and Wanda. She spared a glance at Wanda and that little shit had the audacity to smirk. Natasha looked to her right to see you and to her amazement, you were in a full out sprint. Natasha’s jaw dropped to see that you had been running at 35kmph all this while. An hour later, neither of them had the energy to continue running and got off the treadmill. Both of them stunned at the fact that you hadn’t changed your pace for a single second in the past hour. Wanda cleared her throat, brining you out of your focus. You slowed down and stopped, hopping off the treadmill and walking towards them. While you were breathing heavily, you looked nowhere near as exhausted as the other two felt. You smiled at them brightly.

“Time for some strength training?” You asked genuinely.

Wanda glared at you as she sat on a bench, gulping some water. You noticed their exhausted state and knelt towards Wanda.

“Can I help” you asked gently.

Tilting her head in confusion, she nodded. You slowly grabbed both hands and closed your eyed. Wanda gasped as she felt a warmth envelope her. Her soreness exhaustion dissipate and energy enter her entire body. When you let go, Wanda stood up and twisted a couple of times. She felt better than ever before. Not a hint of exhaustion throughout her body. Natasha watched in amazement at the change in her girlfriend, even her slight dark circles had disappeared.

“Is this how you feel all the time?” Wanda asked in awe.

You chuckled. “Not exactly” you replied.

Before Wanda could inquire further, you turned to Natasha and asked for permission. She nodded, blushing slightly when you took her hand. Natasha, too, gasped when she felt warmth take over. Her muscles relaxing. Even the ache she’d been feeling in her knee vanished. She almost whined when you stepped back, the warm feeling throughout her body slowly dissipating. You hadn’t realised what happened but Wanda did. Natasha saw Wanda give her a smug smile. 

You were about to walk to the free weight section when Natasha asked if the group could use the squat rack instead. Shrugging, you made your way to them. Unfortunately, your oversized sweatshirt kept on getting stuck to the squat rack. Sighing, you removed your sweatshirt. Leaving you in a full sleeved compression t-shirt and loose sweatpants. Wanda and Natasha completely froze as they saw you.

“Holy shit” Natasha thought.

“I agree” Wanda replied in her mind.

Your bulging muscles were on display, your muscular arms stretching the compression t-shirt. Natasha totally wasn’t staring at your abs and Wanda was definitely not staring at your arms. You paused, smirking when you noticed why the two were silent. You walked towards Natasha, lifted your finger to close her jaw. Her face flushed at the action.

“You’ll let flies in if you keep doing that” You teased with a smirk.

Wanda shamelessly stared at your sculpted back, looking away only when you started walking back to the squat rack.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you drooling, Wands” you stated, starting to workout.

It was Wanda’s turn to blush and Natasha to smirk. The rest of the workout went surprisingly well, neither of them commented on how heavy you were lifting for all of the exercises. At first, Natasha thought you were showing off for them but quickly quelled the thought as that was definitely not the kind of person you were. It was one of the things she lo- liked about you.

Post workout everyone went to their respective rooms and got ready for dinner. The training session ended up taking 4 hours.

As usual, you were a little late. Everyone was already sitting down, ready to eat. Wanda insisted to wait for you, to which they reluctantly agreed. You entered the room and your heart warmed as you saw Natasha and Wanda had saved a seat for you between the two of them. As you were about to sit down, your eyes fell on the robot sitting at the table. You froze when you saw what was on his forehead. A gasp left your lips, bringing everyone’s eyes to you. Wanda stood quickly, walking to you. Alarm bells ringing in her head as she felt shock, anger, and most of all grief rolling off you in waves. Thor, not picking up on your mood merely introduced you.

“The Vision, this is lady y/n. She’s the newest addition to our team. Lady Y/n, this is the vision. A synthezoid creat-“

“Thor shut up for a second” Nat interrupted. “Detka, what’s wrong?” She asked you.

You raised a trembling finger towards Vision.

“Why do you have that fucking stone” You gritted out.

“I am unaware of what you mean” Vision said, confused.

“That stone.” You seethed. “Killed my sister.”

X--X--X--X--X

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and tell me your thoughts!

Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp @nothanksbye07 @jono723 @luadyjcmd @alexawynters

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [2]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [3] previous chapter: [1] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 6.7k

status: in progress

author's note: this chapter was for fun- i have the 1975 on repeat so i had to lmao. i kinda wanna do a slow burn because i don't want to make anything happen so fast. and pedro was at the oscars a few hours ago so why not post another chapter for him :) not edited.

You hated working weekends.

Something about waking up extremely early on a day that was supposed to be your day off irks you. Why have a scheduled rest day if you're just going to be scheduled to come in? It made zero sense, especially since you were only given a two hour notice before while sleeping.

No pay, clothes, gifts could ever make you happy after being called in at 5am for a 7am shift-

"Venti iced white chocolate mocha with oat milk, vanilla sweet cold foam, caramel drizzle, and light ice as always," Pedro listed as he handed you the coffee.

"Oh my god, I think I love you," you blurted out, staring at the cup in awe.

"That was fast, I see now why you're single," Pedro replied, giving you the side eye. "And soon diabetic."

Rolling your eyes, you take a sip of the coffee before shaking your head. "Not like that, you moron," you scoffed as he glared at you. "I love coffee too much- and who says I'm single."

"Think of it as your reward for waking up to the call," he joked as you just stared at him annoyed. The one time you turn off your do not disturb and this happens. "Your loneliness says otherwise."

"I am not lonely!" you gasp as he shrugs. "I'll have you know I am dating-"

"If you dare say Matty Healy I will personally push you in a bush-," Pedro declares, stopping you as you try to interject. "-and won't help you back up."

Huffing, you cross your arms as he laughs at the sight of your defeat. He knows you too well considering the fact you only met two months ago.

In fact, these two months were probably the best ones you have had all year. Not only did you experience some awesome moments you're sure you'll never get to witness again, but you got along with a lot of special people.

What made things even better was the fact that you got along with your boss because who knows where you would've ended up if Finn was a total douche- which he wasn't. But he did have his moments where he took your kindness for weakness- like asking you to come in for shift on a Saturday.

One thing that definitely advanced would have to be your relationship with Pedro. Nearly best friends is what you two were typically called on a normal day on set by how close you've become.

The nearly part added because nothing could ever come between his relationship with Bella, or Bellie in his own words. And because Jules always made sure to tell the jokesters that she was not giving up her position just yet.

But when it came to work, Pedro was always there for you. Considering he's been in the industry since before you were even born, which he yelled at you once when you joked, he was the best support.

He would even ask you what you were assigned to do and tell you specifically what was wanted without you even asking- even finding ways to physically assist before being caught and sent back to his actual job.

There were also the constant times where he would spam you with iMessage game requests to 8 ball and ignore you after beating him three times in a row, claiming his phone died despite your messages being sent through.

The only thing that made today better was that he was here because who knows how boring the day would have been if you were spent hanging with the technicians who; in fact, did not appreciate the countless times you dropped a mic.

"Why didn't Jules get called in?" you questioned as he turned up the computer brightness you were using. "That girl never wakes up early but I kid you not, she was playing minecraft on her computer when I was leaving."

"I love minecraft," Pedro sighed.

"I do too, but Jules always sends the creepers to my house," you complain. "They always destroy my garden."

"I could only imagine the devastation in your eyes," he dramatically exhales as you nudge him. "But I think it's because you're more...attentive? Not saying that she isn't, but she sure loves to talk about Jersey Shore in between takes."

"She's been binge-watching all the seasons after work."

The conversation ended once he was caught again by one of the producers and lured out of the office you were in. Initially, he searched around the studio and found you to gift the coffee, but he stayed because he did not want to sit on the makeup chair for another round of a drastic look being applied to his face- especially if you weren't there to pester him.

As for you, once clocked in Finn managed to have you scan after emails as a way to apologize for the call in. Apparently, one of his assistants called out so he decided to use you as their replacement since he couldn't find the time to sit down in a cozy office and do so.

But you were totally not complaining.

That only lasted you about two hours before you were finished and terribly bored.

Throwing the empty cup of coffee in the trash, you decided to walk around in hopes of finding something better to do or else you would've fallen asleep on the desk.

You would've if you weren't scared of the thought of a director finding and; consequently, firing you.

Hearing a loud noise, you quickly averted your eyes where your ears were signaling where the noise came from. Lightly jogging behind a curtain, your eyes widened to a sight of a desk on its side and a man hovering over it.

"Joon?!" you exclaim, running over to find him lowly panting, trying to remain his coolness as you began inspecting him to find any injuries.

"I'm fine," he calmly replied, using his dimpled smile as a way to reassure this but you didn't believe him. That was a loud drop.

"Why in the world are you lifting a desk that surely isn't less than 30 pounds?" you glare as he chuckles at the fake anger you poorly tried displaying.

"One of the technicians asked me to bring it out."

"And did you forget that your back would disagree?"

He shuts his mouth for a second, loss for words at your comeback. "I couldn't say no," he shyly replied. "I didn't want to have to pull out my medical forms explaining why I can't lift a table."

Feeling your face sink, you helped him stand straight as he glanced down at the fallen table. "You should have called for help then- everybody would need help for a gigantic table like this."

He only nodded in response, making you feel bad. You felt like you were lecturing him, technically you were, but you didn't want to find out in the future the reason he stopped attending work was because he pulled his back again.

"I'll drag this out," you declare as he tried slapping you hands away from it.

"It's too heavy for you!" he argued.

"Which is why I said drag," you countered back, ignoring his pleas as you somehow managed to lift the table back to its standing positioning.

Walking around it, you bent your back as you began pushing it around the curtain as Joon followed your position, crouching next to you for the extra support.

If it wasn't for the film crew being around the floor, you were sure you would have passed out right then and there. But you couldn't let them know how weak you were.

"And that's how teamwork makes the dream work," you announce, causing Joon to giggle before giving you a high-five as the two of you stand up from your bent posture.

Joon was another person you got along with incredibly well. For one, you guys were the duo out of all the interns. Every job you had that included another person, he was always there.

There was also the many times the two of you, and Jules of course, would carpool together to get home. It turned out Joon was also friends with some of your college classmates so he was always the only person from work who joined you guys for the random nights of cheesy movies and boring games while eating takeout with your other friends.

Despite hanging out for so long, you felt dense when someone called him Namjoon one time, even turning your head around for this Namjoon, completely oblivious to the fact that Joon was connected to Namjoon.

To be fair, he never went by his full name claiming that his nickname sounded more 'chill,' or whatever that meant.

Other than that, you were sure he was your other best friend. Well, after Jules and maybe Pedro. They were probably on the same level if you had to arrange them- not that friends had to ranked.

"Are you ready for this afternoon?" Joon called out as the two of you walked off the stage back to the curtains.

"For what?"

He sent you a surprised look, scaring you because is there something crazy happening that you had to prepare for? "Do you have your phone?"

Patting your back pocket, you shook your head. "I think I left it in my bag. Why? I'm about to cry if you don't tell me," you impatiently whine.

"What kind of fan you are," he simply responds, causing you to widen you eyes.

Immediately jumping on him, you shake his shoulders repeatedly. "What is the 1975 doing?! You must tell me or I swear to the gods I will bust your kneecaps and make you crawl for help."

He bursts out laughing at your threatening begs, trying to calm down your jumps by grabbing your shoulders to hold you. "You're violent."

"And you'll need surgery if you don't hurry it up."

Tapping your shoulder to calm down, you slowly do so. "3 o'clock is when their tickets go on sale for their upcoming tour, one of the dates being in New York City."

You could have sworn you were about to faint if it weren't for Joon pulling out his phone to show you you still had time to mentally prepare for the combat you were about to enter.

That's what ticketmaster was, a war zone.

"How was I not aware of this?!" you cry out, internally panicking about what you were going to do. You can't miss out on this concert, you just had to see these British people in person in order for your life to be complete.

"They did just post the news half an hour ago," he admitted. "Good for you for not being addicted to your phone."

Scowling at him, he quickly closed his mouth as you went over all the things you needed to do to prepare. "Wait, can we go together? None of my guy friends like them."

If you weren't in your own world mentally planning how you were going to beat all these teenage girls online, you would have noticed Pedro walking up to the two to you. But you didn't because your mind couldn't stop thinking about Matty Healy singing 'She's American' because you were indeed American.

"Why does she look deranged?" Pedro questioned, standing a few feet away from you. "Oh no, did Matty Healy die?"

Glaring at him, you ignore his irrelevant comment and face back to Joon. "You and me, my place straight after work. Got it?"

He nods, already in game mode because he knows how bad the two of you need to witness this concert.

Pedro exchanged a crazed look between the two of you, assuming his own ideas as to what you meant. "You're having a party and didn't invite me?" he tried joking to understand the conversation a bit more.

"No time for fooling around, Pedro," you state, grabbing Joon by his arm and making your way back to the office to search for your phone. "We have important business to settle, see you around!"

He watched the way Joon and you walk away hurriedly and wonders if you have a thing for the boy. It would make sense right? Joon was around the same age and he saw you guys work together all the time.

Shaking his head, he walks back to the stage trying to not overthink whatever was flowing in his head. But he couldn't help but question why he was never invited to your place? He instantly rejected that idea, he was twice your age. There's no way that was realistically appropriate.

However, you were friends- so wasn't it hypothetically okay?

No, there was no way he was really debating this. It's completely understandable why he didn't need to be invited over and Joon could.

But how many times did Joon come over?

Stop. His thoughts were confusing him and he needed a distraction. He wasn't going to let another man make him envy of where his friendship stood with you because there is no way he's jealous Joon might take his close friend status.

Because that's who you were to him, a close friend.

After another hour of working with Joon secretly about the tickets while emailing more people who Finn ordered, you two were finally cut for the day.

And luckily you still had two hours before the tickets went on sale.

"I need to grab my coat I left backstage, meet me outside?" Joon asked and you nodded, waving him off as you put on your own coat and bag.

Sprinting out of the office, you didn't expect to fall on the floor by the the person who ran into you. Well, the person fell to the floor while you comfortably landed on top of them, their arms wrapping around you.

"If you missed me that much you should've just texted me sooner to drop by," you heard the culprit chuckle, immediately making you shake their secured hands off your waist to stand.

"That was definitely not the case," you laugh, sticking a hand out to help him get up.

He raises a brow while staring at your hand before taking it, instantly pulling you back down with him. Falling over again, you slowly slip into his arms before finding your balance and giving up on helping him.

"How adorable of you to think you can lift me up," he grins, pulling his own weight up.

"I would love to stay and chat," you start, before looking past him and back again. "But I have something very important to do."

Trying to move around him, he stops you by grabbing your shoulder. "That's why I came to be a generous person and offer you a ride- so you can be home faster and do whatever you needed to do with Josh."

"His name's Joon."

"That's what I said," he ignores you're doubtful glance. "I can take you guys to your apartment."

Thinking it over, it would make it easier and faster to get home and prepare for the sale. If you would've taken a cab and subway it would have been an hour, with him it'll be half that.

"Fine," you spit out and watch as his face lights up. "But I am not owing you anything, you offered."

"Love how two months ago you would've begged the world for me," he placed a hand over his heart. "Oh how comfortable you've gotten with me."

"I don't want to hear it," you shun him, walking past him as he makes a silly face behind your back. "I can feel that!" He immediately stops, surprised you sensed it.

Maybe the two of you gotten a long too well.

"He's gonna drive us to my place, it'll be faster," you quickly explain to Joon who just nods, happily smiling at Pedro who sends him a fast greeting.

Right as you walk through the parking garage and see the familiar black car, Pedro unlocks it before quickly pushing you into the passenger seat, ignoring your protests and slamming the door before you could slip out.

"Not cool," you utter once he buckles inside the driver's seat.

"Don't make me cry," he fake cries before pulling the car out and hitting the road back to your place.

Due to it being the weekend and everybody wanting to be social and outside for some reason, the streets were packed.

It didn't help that Pedro thought starting a deep conversation with Joon about why electric cars annoyed him, knowing damn well Joon loved the environment, was a good idea.

And Pedro's defense being because he loved the smell of gas made you want to slap him.

As if the heavens felt your annoyance, your wish was granted. You were finally in the front of your apartment complex with Pedro pulling up along the red curb. You would've fought him, but you were desperate to get inside as you barely had an hour left.

"Thanks, see you Monday!" you exclaim, jumping out of the car and slamming the door shut. "Let's go, Joon!"

Barely stepping a foot out, you heard Pedro begin talking. "Wait, what are you guys gonna do?"

"Very intense work," Joon stated before turning to you. "But we got this in the bag."

Pedro squints his eyes, curiously scanning your body language because he does not know what this very intense work meant.

Working out? Making out? What the hell was it?

"Of course we do, love has no limits," you declare, making Pedro cough as you grabbed Joon's arm. "Now, let's go!"

"What are you two going to eat?!" Pedro called out, making you heavily sigh and turn back around.

Faking a smile, you gritted your teeth. "Don't know. Maybe we'll cook or make Jules' grab food as we work."

He makes a face, not convinced he wants to let you guys leave. Now that he was here and his day was over with, he didn't want to be alone.

But he also didn't want to tell you he wanted to stay. He wanted you to invite him- but you weren't getting the hint. Or maybe you were, but you couldn't have him in the room while working with Joon.

"That's cool, did you know I make a killer chicken alfredo?" he speaks out, making you pull an interested face as you were very much not. "Especially with garlic bread."

"Make sure to make that once you get home, safe travels," you wave, trying to turn away but was once again stopped by his voice.

You could feel your kindness slowly leaving your body. Was this the day you would be arrested and charged for murder?

"You know what's the secret with making the pasta?" Pedro questions as Joon replies back a curious, "What?"

"The sauce!" he exclaims as you try to control yourself. He was definitely pushing your buttons but you had to stay calm- you had to.

Joon was too interested in the conversation Pedro was beginning, trying to ask what was in this mysterious sauce. You knew you had to interject or you would both be ticketless.

"Maybe you can tell us about this secretive sauce on Monday, when we next see you," you force a laugh, trying to slowly take a few steps back to inch towards the entrance doors. "We really have to g-"

"Why wait till Monday when I can tell you now?" he claps, getting reading to explain his recipe. "For starters, you need a thick, sauce that can sp-"

"Oh my god!" you squeal, causing both men to jump and stare at you in shock as you rambled on. "The parking structure is around the block, my number is 912- just park and come up! Let's go, Joon!"

With that, Joon and you ran inside and Pedro smiled to himself. His planned worked. He guessed the only way to get to you was by speaking nonsense until you gave in- he'll remember that in the future.

Rushing through your door, you took your coat off as Joon pulled his laptop out if his backpack and set it next to your desk.

You looked at it confusingly before asking, "you carry your laptop with you to work?"

"Duh, an intern should always be prepared for computer work," he replies as if it was the obvious rule we should all know.

Shrugging, you turned on your PC and immediately went to ticketmaster, finding that the tickets weren't going on sale until 35 minutes from now. "We still have time to breathe." That was until you heard light knocks on your door. "Spoke too soon."

Walking up to your door, you see that no one was out there.

That was until Pedro decided to jump out from the side and scare the living shit out of you.

"I'm not doing this," you glare, trying to slam the door on his face, but he forced his way in while laughing at the scream you exhaled before.

You stared at him with no expression as he fell to the floor, continuing to laugh as if your fear was the funniest thing in the world. Joon was even silently giggling in the corner, stopping when you made eye-contact with him.

Trying to find a bowl to fill with water so you could throw at him, your plans were interrupted when you heard your roommate's voice boom across the room.

"Who the fuck is making so much noise?! Some of us are trying to sleep- ah! Why is Mr. Boss here?" Jules' gasps, jumping behind the hallway wall and peeking only her head out, too embarrassed to show off her hello kitty pajamas.

"He's gonna make us some pasta with his secret sauce," Joon happily states as she just gives him a confused look.

"Plus, it's almost 3 in the afternoon...," Pedro adds, giving her a baffled look as to why she is barely waking up.

She just gives him an awkward glance before running back to her room, shutting the door. Saturday's were her day off, of course waking up after 5pm was normal.

"The time limit just turned green! Refresh to join the waiting room-" Joon began screeching, doing so on his computer as you jumped around Pedro to do the same on your PC.

Slowly walking up to where Joon was, Pedro began examining the situation you two were in. Reading over your computer screen, his face fell. "The 1975 2022 World Tour...were you guys seriously trying to buy concert tickets this whole time?!"

Joon and you exchanged innocent glances to one another, not sure if he was judging you for your dedication.

"No, we still are trying to buy tickets," you simply reply, pushing him away from your computer.

His negativity was bad luck.

"This is why you were rushing to get home? All for-"

"Be gone, pessimist. Your energy is not it," you frown, moving your game chair to block his view from your screen. "Joon, block your computer, we can't afford his cynical attitude to ruin our chances of making out with Matty Healy."

"Making out with Matty Healy? You still want that? How is he gonna notice you?" Pedro asks, trying hard not to laugh in your face.

You were quiet for a minute. It was just a crazy thing you said because of all the videos you had seen online whenever it was somebody's birthday or they were just a lucky fan in the front.

You weren't actually dedicated to kissing him, but you did wish.

Joon slowly raised his finger, pointing at Pedro. "You're famous, right? Maybe if you went he'll notice us?"

Eyes widening, Pedro quickly shook his head as you placed your hand over your mouth. He was right, maybe he wouldn't kiss you, but he would for sure meet you if he found out a famous actor with over a million followers on Instagram attended his show.

"Not a chance," Pedro declared, ignoring your puppy dog gaze as you just hoped doing it for long would make him so uncomfortable he would give in.

Nudging Joon, he followed your actions with the sad stare, the two of you in front of the poor actor, leaving him really no choice. You were even thinking about calling Jules out to help, but she probably wouldn't appreciate it by her state of looking homeless.

But if it were on a work day she would totally be in.

"You just look like a deformed bull terrier," he says, pulling a disgusted face. "It's kind of unattractive."

"What is that?" you urge, watching Joon hold a laugh.

"The target dog," Joon answers for you.

Shrieking, you smack Pedro in the arm. "My god, woman! You always hit me."

"You're coming with us to the concert," you announce, watching him roll his eyes. Before he could reject your demand, you beat him to it, "if you don't I'm never talking to you again."

"Please, I've been wishing for that for weeks now," he cheers. "Plus, I'm pretty sure I am busy the day they come."

Pulling yourself close to the computer, you check to see the day they were arriving. "So you're saying you aren't free November 7th?"

"Kid, that's basically a year from now. I can't guarantee anything."

"Damn, you're right," you frown, your mood going down. Joon's idea was pretty amazing, but just wrong timing since the concert was so far away. "You can leave now."

"And what about that famous chicken alfredo?" Pedro chuckled, finding your change in demeanor amusing. You must really love these indie boys.

You were about to reply when Joon intervened. "Oh my god! We are in the queue!"

Twisting your head, you could see the clock had hit 3 o'clock exactly. How did time go by that fast?

"Holy shit! Everybody disconnect from the house wifi on your phones! We can not have anything disturbing us!"

Pulling out your phone, you did what you ranted on and made sure Joon did the same. You even ran to Jules' door and banged on it until she confirmed she did so.

Running back to the computer, you could see there was still 983 people in front of you while Joon had 754. "Why is your computer going faster?"

"This laptop-," he sheepishly smiled. "-cost a fortune, but works like a charm."

Turning back to the screen, you saw the purple line move closer. Not even three minutes in and you only had 534 people left while Joon had 312.

You don't know what you did, but God was certainly rewarding you.

"You're honestly really weird," Pedro confessed, staring at your computer screen. "And sad."

"You would be if you were about to buy tickets to see the love of your life."

"I wouldn't pay anything, money can't buy love," Pedro insists, pulling a chair from your table and placing it in between Joon and you.

"That's very romantic," you swipe an imaginary tear from your cheek. "Save it for the cameras."

His jaw drops as you return back to your computer. In a few moments you were about to be inside the room and you were beyond scared. If you did not get these tickets you don't know how much longer you'll have to live.

"I'm in!" Joon shouts, causing you to jump to his screen.

Great, the two of you were going together anyway so it works out.

"Fuck, what's the presale code?!"

Placing your hands on your head as he begins to panic, you die inside. What the fuck were you going to do now? "Go on Twitter and check!"

To say Pedro was not intrigued would be a lie. It was very fascinating seeing how strongly engaged you were just for a damn ticket. To be honest, he thinks you would be great on a reality tv show- your expressions were just off the roof. He wonders if other people genuinely acted like you.

"It's probably something super simple, try 'thesound,'" you exclaim, watching as he typed right away but frowning when it denied it. "try 'somebodyelse.'"

After each attempt of every famous song they had, it was still wrong. What pissed you off even more was that fans were gatekeeping the code no matter how many times Joon and you tweeted for help.

Greedy little shits.

Eventually, your screen allowed you into the room as well. It was no use, you didn't have the code. "I think I'm going to have a panic attack," you clutch your chest as you felt your lips quiver from sadness. "We were so close."

Pedro just stared at you not believing how miserable you suddenly became. Is this how easily young people let concerts take over themselves? Do people really idolize artists that much to the point where they feel depressed if they don't get tickets?

He shivered imagining how BTS fans dealt with this pressure.

"Let me try," Pedro speaks up, pushing you to the side as he began typing away on your keyboard.

It never hurts to try, right?

Innocently clicking away, your face fell as the check mark appeared, unlocking the room for you. "He got in!"

Hurriedly jumping to the screen, Joon urged Pedro to do the same as you began searching through the seats. Instantly clicking on the floor, you hit the continue button for 2 seats.

Feeling your nerves kick in, your hands begin to shake as you typed in the needed information in order to complete your order. But once you pressed 'place your order," your world stopped.

Ignoring your surroundings, you only focused on the screen. Quietly praying, you're sure Joon and Pedro could hear your desperate requests to the ruler of the universe to grant you your biggest wish: these tickets.

You Got The Tickets To The 1975!

Feeling weightless, you screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors were going to call the cops. Joon looked over, doing the same cheers once he realized you two were set for the show.

Jumping out of your chair, you practically tackled Pedro to the ground as you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted him numerous kisses all over his cheeks.

For once, you were happy you managed to outlast his annoying-self.

"I will forever be grateful for your existence!" you cheer, squeezing his poor body in your arms as he tried to remain in balance, laughing at how nice you suddenly became.

Planting a big kiss on his forehead, you turn to Joon and jump together in happiness. You couldn't believe you managed to score tickets, especially floor seats.

"Wait, what was the code?" Joon asked, pulling away from you and turning to Pedro who tried containing his grin.

"The 1975."

You dropped you arms, feeling incredibly stupid. How could you not write their name as a code attempt? It was shorter than 'it's not living if it's not with you.'

"Joon, we are officially the two dumbest people in New York City," you confess as he slowly nods before stopping.

"Not dumber than Jules though."

You heard her door open before her loud yelling appeared, "Well fuck you too!"

Ignoring her, you jump to Pedro who had his gaze on you already. "Welp! Since we got that out of the way, why don't you make some of that chicken alfredo with your sauce."

He smiled before realizing what you were asking. "What sauce?"

You roll your eyes before hitting his side. "The secretive one you were bothering us about."

Pedro bounces up once he understands what he had mentioned earlier. "Oh, right. That one," he chuckles. "I was kidding, I just wanted to see what you guys were dong."

Your face falls as Joon lets out a sad sigh. "Man, I really wanted to taste how thick and creamy that sauce was."

Pedro just tilts his head to Joon before pointing at the door. "It was great hanging with you guys though! Hey, at least we all worked together for those tickets! I'm gonna head out now, have a good rest of your evening!"

With that, he awkwardly backs away and opens the door, quickly running out before you could argue why he would lie about such a thing.

Before you could process what had just happened, he quickly opens the door again and peeps his head inside. "By the way, you don't actually like a deformed bull terrier," he clarifies. "I was kidding, maybe a cavalier king charles spaniel, those are precious."

And again, he runs out. This time, your face was pretty noticeable when it came to how much redness was present. You cringed to yourself, the littlest of compliments always made you blush- it made you sick.

Joon and you exchanged confused looks to each other. Pedro was a very interesting man.

"What is a cavalier king charles spaniel?" you lightly question.

"The dog in the arms of an angel commercial," Joon simply replies.

Reaching his car, Pedro quickly unlocked the door before jumping in. He felt his heart beating fast, not sure why it was doing so.

Was it because he adored how committed you were for those damn tickets? Maybe. Or how your eyes sparkled once you realized you got the right code? Possibly.

How you kissed him and pulled him in close? Most definitely.

But he would never reveal such a thing to anyone. People would take it wrong and believe he had feelings for you. All he had were feelings one would have for another close friend like you.

His heart was beating because he was excited for you, that's all.

Walking around the studio Monday morning was exhausting. Not only did you pull an all-nighter Saturday night because you were too happy to fall asleep, but you only managed to gain a few hours of sleep on Sunday as you were too busy trying to finish homework due that same night.

"Are you alright? Do you need water?" you heard Bella worriedly ask as you pulled a hoodie over your head and walked near the snacks table.

"I need a pill that can wake me up."

"That could be arranged," she joked, stopping when you sent her a serious look. "Not by me, of course."

Bella managed to wake you up a little once she suddenly pulled out her phone and turned the flash on, flashing it all around your face. "Are you trying to make me blind?!"

"It's supposed to wake you up, is it working?" she grinned, still shoving her phone up your face.

Grabbing her wrist, she stops. "No."

"Damn, that sucks."

Somehow you managed to pull yourself together, walking to where the rest of the interns were once you heard all the directors call out for an urgent meeting.

Probably wanting one of you to run to the coffee shop for coffee as usual.

Seeing Pedro waving at you from the side of his cast's group, you smiled and returned it. He then proceeded to make a confused face, wondering why there was an emergency meeting being held.

You sent the same look, adding a shrug because you were feeling the same. You weren't aware about what was going on, but noticing how many people were present- it must be a big deal.

Finn walked in and stood near the director, sending you a smile that didn't look natural.

If anything it looked fake and...sad?

"A lot of you are probably wondering why I called everyone down here on this early morning," you hear one of the directors begin, making some people nod while others just patiently waited for him to continue. "Starting with wonderful news, we have just been given access to explore our visuals and proceed to try out different surroundings in regards to our planned perception for the series."

Hearing a few people clap, you do the same. You were glad that the set was upgrading, but what did they have to do with everyone?

"Unfortunately," you heard him begin, causing your breathe to hitch. "with locations being held in various places like Canada, we are going to have to make cuts."

Feeling your heart drop, you already knew who he was planning to remove. A big series like this can't send interns they don't care about out of the country for help and you sure as hell couldn't afford to pay for the travels yourself if it came down to it.

You didn't want to make eye-contact with Bella or Pedro and feel their condolences through their expressions. All you wanted to do was be cut already so you could go home and cry at home.

To cry over a job was pathetic, but considering how much you learned and loved to manage it for the past couple months, it was sad to let it go.

As the director went down the list of small departments he planned on letting go, he finally made it to yours. "As for the interns, we are especially grateful for the hard work you brought to this set and trying to fill not only our needs but the casts. If we have any open positions in the near future we will make sure to grant you priority, and if you ever need letters of recommendations for your future activities, I am sure Finn would be able to handle that behind closed doors..."

You zoned out after that, not really caring what else was being said. It was the typical its not us excuse, claiming the company couldn't provide for all of their workers yet were able to spend millions of dollars on each location and its visuals.

The meeting was over when you noticed the directors and producers giving a final sympathetic look to the crowd, bowing their heads before walking back to where their offices were located.

"I feel like crying," you heard Jules sniffle, patting her under eye with her sweater. "But I took time on my eye makeup so I can't!"

Rubbing her shoulder, you tried to distract her from her tears coming out as Joon stood next to you guys, telling her funny spongebob jokes that she did not understand.

"Uh oh, Mr. Boss is coming. He's gonna make me cry, I can't hear his sorrow," Jules' explained, turning her back the other way.

"Hey, kids," you heard Pedro lightly say.

"The tears are coming out!" Jules' exclaimed, running away to the nearest bathroom while Joon and you looked at each other, feeling extremely bad for her.

"Sorry about that," Pedro awkwardly started, continuing once you shook off his unnecessary apology. "I just wanted to talk, see how you guys are handling the unfortunate news."

Joon was the first to speak, sounding surprisingly calm for someone who just lost his internship. "It sucks, but at least it was for an understandable reason. Traveling costs money. Plus, we go to school here, we can't just leave."

You nodded, agreeing with what he said. It was true, you should have known this job would've ended sooner than later, there was only so much you could have done inside a film studio.

The series was an apocalypse that needed feature more outside and environmental sets that looked deadly than a building that was only useful for inside takes.

"How about you?" He questions, sincere eyes following yours as you shrug.

"I am sad but that's the industry," you force out a small chuckle. "If you aren't cut at least once, you aren't gaining the full experience."

Right after you said that, you felt tears lining around the inner corner of your eyes. Looking down, you tru to contain yourself. "I'm going to go check up on Jules."

Reaching out for you, Pedro tries to console you but you were out of his reach in seconds. He hated the tears in your eyes and his job being the reason behind it.

He felt as if it were his fault for your departure when he knows he shouldn't.

It also didn't make him feel any better that Joon followed straight after you once you walked away. He knew he had to do something but he wasn't sure.

All he knew was that he would rather see you smile than cry.

[musette22]

Evanstan AU with handsome small town guy Chris and pretty city boy Sebastian #3672:

One October night, local biker Chris Evans picks up Sebastian, New York-based actor on the cusp of a breakthrough, from the side of the road somewhere in rural Massachusetts.

---

Sebastian is on his way back to New York after shooting scenes for a low-budget movie in a small New England town. He's exhausted thanks to a 5am call time, and frustrated because he's supposed to be past starring in this type of ridiculous Hallmark movie by now, and to make matters worse, he dropped his phone earlier and now the GPS doesn't work, which means he's trying to make his way back to the motorway with the outdated map he found in the glove compartment of his rental car (trying being the operative word here). And then, just when he thinks things have hit rock bottom, the car suddenly sputters to a halt, and Sebastian realizes with a sinking feeling that he forgot to fill up on gas before leaving New York.

Fuck his life, honestly.

He just about manages to steer the car into the gutter before it gives up the ghost completely. Sebastian gets out of the car in a huff, yelling into the void for few satisfying seconds and then giving one of the car's tires a vicious kick for good measure.

He's so caught up in his rage that he doesn't even really register the motorcycle coming towards him until it stops next to his car. And oh great, as if this day wasn't terrible enough, now he's is going to get murdered by a Hell's Angel by the side of the road in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. But then the guy takes off his helmet, and - oh, hello. Sebastian thinks he actually wouldn't mind being murdered by this guy so much. He's a little rugged, sure, but in a handsome way, bearded, wearing leather boots as well as two different types of flannel underneath his motojacket.

"You okay there?" the guy asks, giving Sebastian an amused look.

Sebastian cringes, realizes how he must look to this guy, in his suit jacket and fancy shoes and gold jewellery, throwing a tantrum by the side of the road. But he's got bigger things to worry about right now than looking like an idiot, so he runs a hand through his disheveled hair and answers truthfully. "Not really," he admits. "Ran out of gas and I've got no idea where I am, to be honest."

The guy smirks, giving Sebastian a slow once-over. "I thought you looked a little lost," he says, but before Sebastian can put his hackles up, the guy holds out his hand and says, "I'm Chris. Where were you headed to?"

"Sebastian." He shakes Chris's hand, which is big and dry and a little cold, from driving without gloves on. "Well, I was hoping to get back to New York sometime tonight, but..."

Chris clicks his tongue in sympathy. "Tough luck. If you want, I can give you a ride to the nearest town? You could stay the night at the inn and call the AAA tomorrow? Unless you'd rather call them now. They'd have to come all the way from Boston, though, so it could take a couple of hours."

Sebastian sighs, because yeah no, the idea of sitting here in the dark for hours by himself doesn't exactly sound appealing. As if in agreement, Sebastian's stomach chooses that moment to remind him that the last time he had something to eat was around 10am that morning, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet road. Sebastian shoots Chris a sheepish look.

"There's also a pretty good burger place on the way," Chris says, looking even amused now, before he gives Sebastian's clothes another calculating look and adds, "That is, if you don't mind greasy burgers."

Sebastian can't help but bristle, just a little. "The greasier the better," he says defiantly, before realizing that kind of sounded like an innuendo, considering this guy looks like a bike mechanic. It seems Chris picked up on that too, because he smirks again. Then he holds out his helmet to Sebastian. "Hop on," he says.

"What about you?"

"I'll drive slow," Chris shrugs. "It's only a couple of minutes."

So Sebastian puts on the helmet and swings his leg over the bike, settling in behind Chris.

"Hold on tight."

Sebastian wraps his arms tightly around Chris's surprisingly slim waist, pressing himself up against his back. As they set off, Sebastian has the sudden thought that this day might be looking up after all.

They pull up outside a pub-style bar a little while later. Chris shuts off the bike and Sebastian climbs off, taking off the helmet. "Thanks," he says, handing it to Chris. "I appreciate it. So um, if you could give me the name of that inn, I can just go on on foot once I'm done here and ask for directions or something. Unless it's too far to walk?"

"I could also just give you a lift there," Chris says, tilting his head slightly. "I'm kinda hungry myself, actually. I could eat a burger. If you don't mind the company, that is."

Sebastian really, really doesn't mind the company. He smiles. "'Course," he says, starting to walk in the direction of the entrance. "My treat, seeing as you kind of saving my ass right now." When he shoots a look over his shoulder, he could swear Chris had just been looking at said ass, possibly assessing whether or not it's worth saving. Sebastian hopes the answer is yes.

As promised, the burgers are pretty greasy but also very good. They talk while they eat, Sebastian relating what led him to be stranded in the middle of bumfuck nowhere Massachusetts. Chris smirks, but otherwise doesn't make any snide remarks about Sebastian being an actor, so Sebastian likewise doesn't make fun of Chris when he tells him he's owns a one-man woodworking business. Despite their very different lifestyles and occupations, it turns out they've got quit a lot in common. And unless Sebastian is very delusional, they've also got a ton of chemistry. Chris keeps looking at Sebastian's mouth when he's talking, and Sebastian can't stop himself from letting his gaze linger on Chris's shoulders and forearms. There's a spark there, no doubt about it.

By the time they've finished their burgers and drinks, Sebastian is really hoping he might just be able to stay the night at Chris's place, instead of at some inn.

Once Sebastian has paid, they make their way outside again, walking over to Chris's parked bike. Chris gets on but doesn't take the bike off the stand yet. He rubs the back of his neck, giving Sebastian a look from under his lashes. "So. Where to?"

Sebastian arches an eyebrow. "Thought you were gonna give me a lift to that inn you mentioned." He lets Chris sweat for a moment, before he smirks and adds, "Unless you've got somewhere better in mind."

The corner of Chris's mouth curves upwards. "I might know a place," he says, not breaking eye contact.

They look at each other for a moment, something sizzling in the air between them.

"Lead the way."

****

Chris knows he shouldn't have brought this beautiful stranger home.

He knows he's a hopeless romantic who falls too fast, especially for people like Sebastian, who are gorgeous and interesting and driven and intelligent. He knows that inviting someone like that into his home would make him immediately imagine a future with them that he could never have. He knows that, and at the same time, he also knows he wouldn't have wanted to miss last night for the world.

Sebastian is better than anything Chris could ever have dreamed up, and Chris is so happy that chance (fate?) brought Sebastian into his path. So grateful that he got to spend one perfect night with him.

But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like a sonofabitch when he's driving Sebastian back to his car the next day, knowing that in just a few minutes time, he's going to have to say goodbye, and he'll most likely never see him again. Except maybe on the silver screen.

Chris pulls up next to Sebastian's abandoned car, shuts off the engine, and takes off his helmet. Behind him, Sebastian does the same, handing Chris the spare helmet to put in the saddlebags. Chris gets off and turns around. Sebastian's hair is tousled, the golden morning sun catching on it, making it glow. He's wearing an old wax coat over his suit blazer, lent to him by Chris, because the morning air is pretty chilly, and Chris has already learned that Sebastian gets cold easily.

When Sebastian starts to take off the coat, Chris waves a hand and says, "Keep it. It's an old one anyway, and you might be here for a while, depending on when the AAA gets here."

Frowning, Sebastian puts his hands in his pockets. The sun frames him from behind, making it seem like he's got a halo, and secretly, Chris thinks Sebastian is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Thank you," Sebastian says quietly.

And Chris could be wrong, but he thinks that maybe, just maybe, Sebastian might be feeling a little of what Chris is feeling, too.

"Don't mention it," Chris says, leaning against his bike, thankful for his sunglasses not just because of the sun, but also because they help hide the way he's feeling right now. Which is, frankly, far more devastated than he should be, over someone he just met yesterday.

"I could -" Sebastian starts, before he stops himself, biting his lip.

"Yeah?"

Sebastian takes a breath, looking at the ground. "Well, I was just thinking, I could maybe return it to you sometime. The coat, I mean. You're not that far from New York, really, and, y'know, I'm kinda sad I didn't get a chance to see your workshop, and like, the town." He looks up, giving Chris a careful look from under his lashes.

A warm feeling spreads through Chris's chest, more effective in driving away the cold and sadness than the sun could ever hope to be. He smiles at Sebastian. "Or I could drive up to New York sometime and collect it," he says, ignoring the fact that he just basically said he didn't need the coat back anyway. "Been meaning to visit again for a while anyway, I kinda miss the excitement. And like you said, it's not that far from here, if you think about it."

They smile helplessly at each other for a few moments, something passing between them that doesn't need to be articulated to be real.

"Let me give you my number," Sebastian says, seeming to glow with more than just the morning sunlight now, and if Chris saves the number in his phone with a little heart next to Sebastian's name, that's nobody's business but his.

[leilani-lily]

~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 3)

So I'll admit, this one got a bit long (¬////¬) I hope that's ok, but there's a little treat at the end so I promise it's worth it.

Also. Should mention. This next chapter implies DEATH and CANNIBALISM so ｡°⚠︎°｡ please be warned!! ｡°⚠︎°｡

Other than that, please enjoy the next chapter, and let me know what you think thus-far (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. You start your first shift at an ungodly hour and brew a fresh pot of coffee to help you get through it. Alastor happens to come by and joins you for a cup. You discuss various topics, including how you died. Word Count: 3.5 K

Chapter under the cut!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You pour the freshly ground beans into the coffee maker and flicked the switch.

It’s too damn early to be awake right now. 

You yawn and stretch as you lean against the kitchen counter, waiting for that liquid gold to stop brewing so you could drown your sleepy sorrows. Normally you’d never be caught up and awake at 5am, but here you were. 

Charlie had set a schedule for when each round of meals should be prepared: Breakfast from 7-10, lunch from 11-2, and dinner from 4-7. When you first went over the schedule, it all made perfect sense and you thought nothing more. Until you realized very too late that breakfast STARTING at 7am meant you had to be up and cooking at ungodly hours.

You wipe your bleary eyes and feel yourself sagging from fatigue, but soon enough the warm smell of coffee began to enter your senses, and you felt a little more relieved. At least you had coffee. Coffee was your best friend.

You grab a cup and (inset how you make coffee) before grabbing the finished pot and topping your mug up. You sigh in relief as you sink into the stool at the kitchen’s island, taking your first sip and feeling the warmth coat your throat. Bleary eyes blink happily as you sit hunched over, mug clutched in your hands and close to your chest. You just needed this one mug to wake up, then after you would start prepping for breakfast.

You were only sitting a moment before you heard the click clack of steps coming down the hall, alerting you to sit up more straight. Somebody was already awake? On purpose?? The footsteps slowly got louder the closer the unknown entity walked towards the kitchen. They suddenly stopped for a moment, filling the air with an eerie silence. Before long, the footsteps continued to close in before finally a tall form clad in red stepped into the doorway. It was Alastor.

“I thought I smelt the delicious roast of freshly made coffee~!”

You blew out the breath of air you didn’t realize you were holding. With a warm smile, you get up off your stool. “Good morning Alastor, may I pour you a cup?”

Alastor’s eyes seemed to light up at the idea. “Why, you certainly may~! Just black would be delightful, thank you.” He twirled his microphone as he walked up to the kitchen island, settling on the stool beside you on the corner. You give a polite nod and grab another mug. You could feel his eyes burning into you from behind, so you begin light conversation.

“Did you sleep ok? I’m surprised to see anyone awake this early in the morning.”

You turn back to Alastor and hand him the new full mug, his eyes seeming to dance as you hand him The Precious. “Indeed I did! Though I’ve never been much of a heavy sleeper. Only ever need a couple of winks before I’m back on my feet.” He took his first sip and sat for a moment, savouring the flavour until giving a sigh.

“Still better than conjured coffee, but not quite the same as what I remember.”

You cock your head curiously and sit back down on your stool, your own mug in hand. “ ‘What you remember?’ ”

Alastor hummed and took a sip, but then turned to you and crossed his legs, leaning one arm on the counter, “Back when I was topside! I had such fine equipment that helped me to brew the perfect cup. I’ve tried to replicate the taste many times now, but they can never seem to measure up.” He looks deep into his mug, as if the answers might be swirling inside. 

You watched him carefully. His life before he had died. You felt a pang of longing for a moment, reminiscing in your own memories before you had dropped down to Hell. Though he didn’t appear to be in pain, you could understand the longing for tasting or feeling things that you had such fond memories of when alive. 

“Still,” Alastor continued, snapping you from your thoughts, “This is one of the better one’s I’ve had. Lately I haven’t had the time to brew a proper cup, so conjured coffee it is,” He snaps his fingers real quick, and a yellow mug poofs from thin air, steaming with what you assume is to be magical coffee. The mug has “Oh Deer” printed on it, and you do your best to hold in your snort. Alastor sneers at the conjured mug.

“Has a strange aftertaste I’m afraid, so to have a homemade cup ready for me to drink is indeed a treat!” He snaps his fingers again and the yellow mug disappears, turning back to you and clutching the cup you gave him closely. He tilted his head to you.

“Is there anything you miss from when you were topside?” 

He must have caught you getting nostalgic earlier, you thought. One thing popped into your head immediately when it came to tastes of the past. Something that you didn’t realize you had missed so desperately until now.

“My mom,” you smile warmly, looking off in the distance as you remember, “she used to make this delicious dessert for me every year for my birthday. ‘Death by Chocolate’... Ironic now huh?” You laugh a moment, and Alastor’s grin widens at the joke. “She always insisted on making it for me without fail, and it was such a simple recipe but it made me so happy.” You feel your grip tighten on your mug. When was the last time you even had that dish?

“Ahhh, yes,” Alastor sighed, “Nothing can truly beat the taste of a mother’s cooking. My own mother was a pro in the kitchen!” he clutched the air making you smile at his antics, “Oh the meals she’d put together for the neighbourhood. Always making sure to feed everyone who was hungry. Her hearty dishes were something quite unmatched.” Alastor takes another sip while you ponder for a moment.

“Is that why jambalaya is your favourite food? Because your mother used to make it?” you ask. Alastor’s eyes open and roll over at you as he sips from his drink, his lips pursing into a smile. Swallowing his mouthful, he gives you an impressed look.

“Well well, quite the clever little lady now aren’t you~?” he grins, making you blush from the compliment. That seemed to amuse the radio demon as he chuckled softly to himself. After a pause, he speaks up again. 

“I must say, from what I can tell so far I’m shocked to even find you down here. Tell me my dear,” he rested his head in his palm, giving you a quizzical look. “How did you end up in Hell?”

Oh God.

You knew this question would come up in conversation eventually… it just wasn’t your proudest moment. You look away as an awkward laugh escaped your throat, making Alastor perk up in curiosity. Well now he had to know.

“Come now my dear,” Alastor crooned, making you look to him hesitantly, “You can trust me! I promise to tell you my story if you tell me yours.” He snaked closer to you until he was on the edge of his seat, not seeming to want to let this go. You eyed him for a moment, before finally giving a sigh of defeat.

“Alright well… I just want you to know now that I don’t do this anymore! It was a one time thing that got me into this whole mess so,” You gesture to your surroundings as if to indicate Hell itself. Alastor leaned back into his stool and faced you attentively, eyes sharply focused on you. You take a sip of coffee before beginning (you suddenly wished for something stronger).

“When I was still alive, I was a local cook for our town’s restaurant. It wasn’t anything fancy or world class, but everyone seemed to enjoy my cooking. Anyways, I always experimented with different ingredients and flavors in my spare time. I tried all different types of things, possum, caribou… Deer,” you wince a moment and you swear you see Alastor’s hair flicker a moment (Hair? Ear? Hairy ear? Ear-y hair?). But his face doesn’t change and he remained quiet, so you continue.

“Anyways, I wanted to find a flavor that no one had tasted before. Something really off the map and challenging to work with so…” you look back to Alastor briefly, who only nodded at you to continue. “... I managed to find something very different. Very… human-y.”

You could see the lightbulb switch in Alastor’s brain as a screeching microphone sound played. His eyes slowly grew wide and his spine straightened, his smile growing even wider. You could feel yourself panicking and begin to babble.

“So when it came time to taste test it, I guess I hadn’t done as good of a job picking the bones out as I thought,” you were sweating at this point, “Cause in the end I found myself choking on… his… thumb.” You stared into your coffee cup. You didn’t dare look at Alastor. The way you died was so embarrassing. Other people got shot or stabbed. You fucking killed yourself by not mincing properly. 

There was a long awkward pause as you wait for his reaction, sweat starting to pool on your forehead. Alastor suddenly burst into laughter, his hand clutching his stomach as he leaned back into his stool. Yep, there it is. You groan to yourself as your head falls into your hands. The radio demon got in a good few guffaws before turning back to you.

“My dear,” he laughs, “How do you simply ‘find’ a human body??” His response shocked you, you thought he’d be more focused on the choking part. With a ‘matter of fact’ expression, you reply:

“Oh, well I killed a guy.” 

“... W-WHAT?!”

Alastor keeled over on the kitchen counter, shoulders shaking as a new wave of laughs overcome him. Realizing how wrong that came out, you became very defensive.

“Well- ! He deserved it!” You bellowed, “He practically stalked me at the restaurant, he was creepy to the waitresses, some who were MINORS mind you! He was a huge dickwad and nobody liked him anyways! So I-!” 

“Y-you decided to serve him up on a platter as a new dinner special~?” Alastor was giddy with joy.

“What?! Oh my god, NO!” you scream, standing from your stool suddenly and cheeks blazing red. Alastor’s laughing track had now kicked in as he started gasping for air. “JESUS I would NEVER force anyone into that! It was a one time thing I swear!” You cross your arms and huff, turning away from him, “After I died I vowed never to do that again and have been a ‘clean’ cook ever since.”

Alastors laughter was finally dying down into shakey snickers, wiping a tear from his eye and the laughing track fading away. You were so embarrassed and angry at yourself. See, this is why you didn’t tell people! It was one of the worst decisions in your life, and now you had to pay for it in an eternity in Hell. One stupid mistake and then karma kicked you in the ass.

“W-well my dear,” Alastor had finally composed himself, straightening out his jacket and grinning with delight. “I’ll admit I didn’t think you had it in you; who would’ve thought a girl so charming as yourself could be capable of such wickedness~?”

Though you knew he meant it as a compliment, it didn’t feel like one. You sighed and sat back down at your stool defeated. Alastor noticed and lifted your chin with a knuckle.

“Awhhh chin up my dear~!” he smiled, “You said so yourself that the man you killed was unjust and a stain on the world, so think of yourself as a hero! You saved your waitress friends from ever being harassed by him again!” He looked at you almost with a sense of pride, and you knew deep down he was trying to make you feel better. Still, this topic was one of the things that you knew you’d regret forever. 

“How about this,” Alastor pulled his hand away, “Why don’t I tell you how I ended up here? I’m sure it will make you feel less like a monster.” Now that piqued your curiosity. Less like a monster? You had murdered someone. And cooked him! What could possibly be worse than that?? You found yourself leaning in closer, ready to hear his story. Alastor chuckled in amusement and leaned back, crossing his legs. 

“Now then. The reason I’m down here is because,” his eyes flashed open and he looked you square in the face.

“I’m a serial killer.”

There was a long, heavy pause as you let that sink in. Oh. 

 … Oh. 

“R-right,” you stutter, “Y-you mean you WERE a serial killer… right?” your throat suddenly felt very tight. Alastors head flung back as a single laugh burst from his mouth, only for him to look back down at you grinning and half lidded.

“No~”

… Well then. Strangely enough that did make you feel better about your sins. Granted you were slightly terrified now, but oddly enough it did do the trick. He was WAY worse off than you.

“As to how I died,” Alastor continued on, completely unbothered by his previous statement, “I was shot one night while burying one of my victims.” he leaned closer to you and blinked, a tiny red x suddenly starting to glow in the middle of his forehead. You gasped at the sight, secretly wanting to touch it but daring not to.

“A hunter had mistaken me for a ruminant of sorts, and that's how I ended up here.” He blinked again, and the x began to fade back into his skin. 

You were enthralled by his tale. His way of dying was so much cooler than yours. Your gaze from his forehead slowly traveled up to the top of his head, where two little black horns peeked out from his hair.

“Huh. So that’s why you have these little antlers here-!”

You didn’t even think. You weren’t even aware of your actions until it was too late. You had reached out and the tips of your fingers had barely even caressed his antlers until his hand suddenly snatched your wrist. There was a chill in the air as you felt all the oxygen being sucked out of it. The lights flickered as Alastors background static stopped all together, the kitchen falling deadly quiet. His eyes burned crimson as his gaze flicked to your outstretched hand, before his death glare zipped back to you. His yellowed grin had creeked up so high on his face you thought it would crack. His body grew longer and began to fill the room, shadows beginning to fill the room. You could feel yourself start to tremble as his eyes bore into you.

“Careful, my dear,” Alastor hissed, his radio voice coming out slightly distorted, “Others have died ₣ØⱤ ₣₳Ɽ ₴₥₳ⱠⱠɆⱤ ⱤɆ₳₴Ø₦₴.”

You felt his grip tighten on your wrist and a shiver ran down your spine. You had never seen this side of Alastor before. And in that moment you truly believed he was the serial killer he claimed to be. You gave a quick nod of your head, your heart racing in your chest and your wrist beginning to ache from the hold he had on you.

The radio demon's bloodshot eyes flickered over you for a moment more before his body finally began to shrink in size, the shadows slowly melting away and the lights returning to normal. Eventually he returned back to his default state and let go of your wrist. You pulled it back immediately and clutched it against your chest, your heart pounding as your skin prickled. 

Alastor leaned back in his chair and stared at you, his eyes calculating and grin sharp. His fingers tapped the top of his microphone as he appeared in deep thought. You looked back at him, still scared but also wondering what was going on in that mind of his. Was he thinking of ways to kill you? Oh fuck, was he going to fire you? You felt yourself swallow dryly. He looked you over once. Twice. Eyes squinting a moment before he speaks again.

“You’re lucky that I like you y/n.” Alastor stated, making you blink in confusion, “You have passion, spunk, brains, and a hard-working spirit. And though you ended up in hell, I sense a kindness in you that is rare to find down here.”

… Were you having a stroke? Did Alastor kill you already and you were just dreaming? What in the actual Hell was going on. 

“Having said that…” Alastor began to lean closer to you, making you flinch, “I’ve decided to allow you to touch them this one time, and this one time only. However,” He closed one eye but let the other open, his pupil suddenly glowing and threatening to burn you.

“If you touch anything else I will break all your fingers off before shoving them down. your. throat.”

You got the message. You quickly nod your head again, too scared your voice will betray you. Alastor glared at you for a couple seconds more before closing his other eye, presenting his antlers to you. You looked at them for a long time, hands itching to touch them but still feeling nervous. You take a gulp and ask with a croaky voice:

“Are… Are you sure I’m allowed to-!” 

“Don’t make me change my mind, y/n.” Alastor replied flatly, his eyebrow twitching with annoyance. 

“Ah yep okie.” you stutter, taking the hint and finally reaching out. You hand hovers over the antlers for just a brief moment before finally grazing them with a feather-like touch. 

You were shocked to feel just how velvety they were. The slight fuzz on them wasn’t what you were expecting, and soon you found your hand drifting over the curves of the bone. It was so soft, and surprisingly warm and soothing to the touch. It wasn’t long before you were gently stroking the antler between your fingers and thumb. Your other hand itched to join in, so you hesitantly raised your other arm and slightly grazed the other antler. Alastor’s eye twitched for a moment, but he made no other move, so you took that as a good sign. 

Soon both of your hands were rubbing his two black antlers, your inner child giddy with the warmth and texture. You rolled the tips between your fingers, your thumbs glided over every curve it could touch. Your hands occasionally brushed over Alastor's hair and you couldn’t help but admire how soft it felt on your wrists. You sneaked a peek down at the man in question and tried to repress a smile. 

Eyes still closed, his wide grin had actually softened a little; his eyelids drawn shut and looking heavy. The static noise that usually buzzed in the background had hushed down to a lower decibel. Even his head in your grasp seemed a little heavier; was he actually enjoying this?

His ear fluttered against your hand (you were now convinced those things were indeed ears) and you so badly wanted to stroke those too. If his antlers were soft, imagine how soft his ears would be?? And if rubbing his antlers felt good, you bet stroking his ears would feel even better.

But you dared not risk it. He had made himself very clear from the beginning that he had personal boundaries, and you had to respect them. 

“Times up~!” 

Alastor’s eyes popped open and he pulled back abruptly ending… whatever that was. You felt a tinge of disappointment as his antlers left your grasp, but you felt like it was probably for the best. You could’ve kept petting them for hours. 

His eyes flickered to the side of the kitchen, refusing to meet your gaze, and one of his ears flickering again subconsciously. You stifled a giggle in your throat. Poor guy. You were pretty sure he liked that more than he wanted to let on. You decided to put him out of his misery.

“Thank you Alastor, you really do have lovely antlers.” you bow your head to him slightly. That seemed to perk him up. Alastor smiled proudly, clearly aware of how nice they were and happy for your acknowledgement.

“And I’m sorry about invading your personal space earlier,” your smile faltered a bit as you looked away, feeling sheepish about being so intrusive earlier, “clearly I wasn’t thinking straight…” You felt a friendly pat on the top of your head.

“Bah, it’s water under the bridge my friend, no need to worry your little head over it.”

You felt your eyes widen in surprise. 

Friend. 

Your lips curled up into a smile. You had to admit, you didn’t expect your first friend at the hotel to be the quirky serial killer. But so far he has surprised you in more ways than one. And you were happy to continue to learn more about this mysterious demon you had somehow befriended. 

“Now, what's on the menu for today y/n, I’m practically starved! Man-cakes and eggs perhaps~?”

“Alastor I swear to GOD.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

And with that, that's all the chapter's I have written for now. I hope to be able to write again soon. Your patience is appreciated (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

Thanks for reading! Please like, comment, and reblog! And let me know what you think so far ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡

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[xuzuitengenx]

Kyojuro Rengoku x Demon!Male Reader Angst-Fluff? Oneshot (Wattpad)

Title: "A glimpse of the past."

Genre—Angst/Fluff?

Warning(s): MANGA SPOILERS, LONG ONESHOT

A/N: I wrote this at 3-5am so sorry for any grammar or spelling errors!!

"My love! Be careful, please!" M/N yelled at his husband who almost fell as he was getting something to eat in the kitchen. M/N practically teleported to Kyojuro by his side (thanks to his demon abilities) and caught Kyojuro.

"I'm fine, M/N! I just tripped!" Kyojuro says, trying to calm down the worried M/N as he was brought on his feet again.

"I know, but you're still injured." M/N mumbled, still holding Kyojuro close to him as he was afraid to let him go. Kyojuro smiles at this, seeing how protective M/N is over him.

"M/N." Kyojuro called out his name, moving himself in M/N's arms so he was face to face with M/N.

"Kyo?"

Kyojuro places his hands on M/N's cold cheeks. "It's okay- I'm okay. And you don't have to worry about me going on missions anymore." Kyojuro reassures M/N and reminds him that he retired due to his injury that messed up his internal organs.

M/N nodded as he leaned into Kyojuro's warm touch, closing his eyes while calming himself down.

"I'm sorry." M/N apologizes, hugging Kyojuro, but made sure to not hug too tightly as he was still hurt and bandaged up.

Kyojuro shook his head as he hugged M/N back.

"Don't be! You are being protective and very helpful!" Kyojuro complimented.

M/N smiles, kissing Kyojuro's cheek a good couple of times which made Kyojuro giggle softly.

"Let's get you back to bed and I'll make your favorite." M/N proposed, making Kyojuro perk up.

"Sweet potatoes?" Kyojuro asked as he was clearly happy while his eyes sparkled.

"Mhm! Sweet potatoes." M/N confirmed and was instantly pulled by the flame hair man to the bedroom.

'For an injured man, he is still very strong..!" M/N thought himself as he helped Kyojuro on the futon.

M/N didn't leave Kyojuro's side unless he had to go to work at the market that was near by their shared home, but even then, M/N was there for Kyojuro when he needed it.

The couple was happy and healthy for a human and a demon and very much knowing the consequences of these relationships, so that's why both Nezuko and M/N are hoping for a cure from Lady Tamayo of their unwilling choice of becoming a demon.

Still, Kyojuro and M/N stood strong..

Until, Kyojuro's started to get sick.

M/N and Kyojuro thought that it was a normal fever and it would go away after a day with tea and soup, but it didn't.

M/N's concerns started raising as Kyojuro's health started to slowly decrease by the weeks.

Needing to take care of his husband, M/N took some time off of work.

Everything M/N tried to do, it wasn't working.

Doctors who would all recommend the same equipments over and over, warm clothing, warm tea, soup, different herbs.

Nothing, absolutely nothing was working.

Kyojuro knew what was going to happen and he knew that M/N also knew too, but didn't want to accept that fact.

The fact that Kyojuro was dying.

M/N tried to bring his and Kyojuro's hopes that he would be okay. They knew better.

Slowly, but surely, Kyojuro was getting more ill and weaker by the day as he became pale and started to breath unevenly.

One night, M/N was reading everything from the books on what Kyojuro could have as he sat next to Kyojuro who he thought was sleeping.

Kyojuro struggled to move his body towards M/N for he can see him, he successfully did so and sees how intensely M/N was reading the pages.

Feeling a cough itching at his throat, he lets it out and coughs rather violently then before which caught M/N's attention away from the book.

"Kyo.." M/N mumbled, closing the book and leaving it on the ground as he went over to his husband.

Kyojuro's cough settled down and leaving behind a pain in his throat.

M/N grabbed the cup of water that was sitting besides Kyojuro. "Here, take a slip." M/N says, bring the cup close to Kyojuro who denied it, looking at M/N with sadden eyes that was very out of character of Kyojuro before looking away.

Sad part was the fact that those sadden eyes became familiar to M/N now.

"Please, drink the water.." M/N pleaded, wanting him to drink.

"M/N.." Kyojuro mumbles lowly, making M/N hum.

"Can..can you lay with me?" He asks, his voice hoarse as he looked at M/N once again. M/N instantly nods, placing the cup of water down as he mumbles that of course he will.

Hearing that, Kyojuro weakly smiles and watches M/N taking up the empty space that was next to him. M/N lays on the futon and almost immediately, the two snuggled up with one other.

M/N held Kyojuro close to his body, occasionally kissing Kyojuro's forehead which was hot like it was burning. Kyojuro closes his eyes as he felt himself getting sleeper.

Before he closed his eyes, he told M/N something.

"I love you..so much." Kyojuro says in a soft, sleepy tone.

M/N smiles as he felt his heart break for the 1000th time, kissing Kyojuro's forehead once again, but longer before pulling away.

"I love you too, my love.." M/N says, feeling Kyojuro's body relaxed at his words, Kyojuro went to sleep.

He never woke up from that sleep.

His warm body now cold and still in M/N's arms.

M/N's eyes had tears flowing out of his eyes, wanting to breakdown and cry out to his one and only. Hoping that this was part of a fucked up dream.

Throughout the night, M/N heard Kyojuro's heart slowing down as he slept and tried to help any way he could.

He tried everything, but at last, it was already too late and now, M/N was holding Kyojuro's body in his arms, his throat tightening and his chest wanting to let out sobs. Nothing left M/N, only tears.

M/N sat on the ground of his bedroom of his house.

His. Not his and Kyojuro's. Just his.

Hell, he can't even call it a home anymore.

M/N didn't attend his funeral, he couldn't. He couldn't accept the fact that his best friend is dead. He can't face anyone without them saying how sorry they were or talk about loss. M/N can't handle it.

M/N could've died of a broken heart days ago, but he didn't and couldn't as he was a demon and can't die, so he suffers every. single. day.

He hated the fact that he was a demon. He hated it. Why did he become a demon? Why him? Why couldn't he be a demon that could have the ability to turn people so Kyojuro could've been live.

Wouldn't that be selfish? Kyojuro wouldn't want that.

Out of anger of his thoughts, M/N threw the glass cup that was next to him at the wall, watching it break into pieces as the harsh impact was seen on the wall.

M/N was about to throw more stuff, but was stopped when he heard knocking on the front door. M/N didn't want to leave the bedroom, wanting the person to go away until the knocks started to get aggressive, making him slowly leave the room.

His feet dragging across the floor as M/N didn't look around the house. It was him and only him. No Kyojuro greeting him, no Kyojuro reading in silence, No Kyojuro.

M/N made it the door. M/N wiped whatever he had on his face and opened it.

Seeing Uzui standing there, looking quite angry as his beefy arms were crossed.

"You weren't at the funeral." Uzui started. M/N didn't say anything, but nodding slowly.

"Rengoku wouldn't want you-"

"Shut up." M/N demanded, not wanting to even hear his name.

"No, you know he wouldn't want you to do this to yourself-!"

"And you think I don't know that?!"

"Clearly, you don't as you didn't even go to your husband's funeral! Your husband!"

"I think I know that he was my husband, Tengen!"

Silence came the two of them for a moment before Uzui called his name.

"M/N.. He would want you to do something with your life. It doesn't have to be now, or next week, or even a year. Rengoku wouldn't want you to grieve for him like this and I know that for a fact.." Uzui says in a low tone.

M/N felt tears welling up in his eyes, looking on the ground.

"I'll help you get an idea.. Do you still do those flamboyant paintings?" Uzui asked which M/N answered with a slight head shake.

"Well, there you go! Now, if you do decide on doing that, make sure you do my painting first and flamboyant!" Uzui exclaimed.

'A painting, huh?'

M/N was sitting in front of a canvas, a brush in hand as well as fresh paints he bought.

As he went to put the brush in the paints, he realized that he couldn't do this. He remembered when he used to paint a lot when he was dating Kyojuro.

Kyojuro loved his paintings.

M/N didn't noticed that his hand was shaking and puts the paint in the water, washing it off and puts it against the canvas before getting up.

He was going to leave, however, he stayed there, looking back on the canvas.

~ 𝟐𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐲 ~

M/N fixed his black suit as he stood in front of a bathroom mirror. Looking at himself as he looked for any imperfections on his suit or anywhere.

Thinking that he is overthinking this, he walked away from the mirror and leaves the public bathroom, but without forgetting to use hand sanitizer which he put into his hands, rubbing it in.

M/N was walking through a museum of many paintings from over 1000 years ago or recent paintings that became famous.

Walking through people who were fascinated by the many different paintings and art styles, M/N finally made it to the place where he needed to be.

The place where his painting was at.

He was quite surprised of the amount of people that were near it and complimenting it.

"Woah, such a beautiful painting! I wonder who is that person though!"

"I know, right? That person has such vibrant hair!"

"He's pretty!"

"I love this painting!"

"Wow!!"

M/N smiles at the people complementing it, staying behind until some of them started leaving for other paintings.

M/N finally gotten close to his panting enough to see it once again.

The paintings was.. Kyojuro.

It was the day of his and Kyojuro's first festival together. M/N remembered the day clearly and remembers how happy Kyojuro was.

M/N sadly smiles at the picture, reliving the memories for a small moment.

M/N suddenly felt someone standing next to him, admiring the picture. M/N was about to leave, but something caught his attention.

"This painting is absolutely stunning!!"

The person's voice was loud and familiar, making M/N stand in place, holding his breath as tears that haven't left him for over a couple of decades ago started to well in his eyes.

He couldn't help and looks at the person next to him.

It was Kyojuro Rengoku.

His one and only alive again.

His husband standing next to him after over 100 years.

If M/N's heart can beat, it would at this moment. Beating so hard that you could think someone could hear it without getting so close.

It didn't take long for the man to look at M/N who looked away instantly, not baring to look at his eyes.

The flame hair man felt a familiar yet unfamiliar feeling he got from the (H/C) hair man.

It was like he knew him, but he is complete stranger.

"I'm Kyojuro Rengoku!" He introduced himself, waiting for the man to introduce himself.

M/N finally got the courage to look at Kyojuro who was already looking at him. M/N felt the familiar and sickly feeling of love again after over 100 years of grief.

"I'm..I'm M/N L/N."

Kyojuro smiles, flashing a smile that M/N so dearly missed.

"S-so, do you want to get coffee sometime?" M/N blurted out as he mentality slapped himself.

Kyojuro gently chuckles, noticing the attempt that M/N tried to do.

"I wouldn't mind! Do you want to exchange numbers or..?"

"Oh-! Yes!" M/N said, pulling out his phone as Kyojuro also pulled out his.

"Look at that! Two of my best friends meeting!" A loud flamboyant like voice boomed in the museum as the owner of the voice came to the two.

"I see you know Tengen too!" Kyojuro says as M/N nods.

"Yes, I do! I know him lil' too much to know that fact that he has mice-"

"Shut up!" Tengen yells, making the other two men laugh.

"I have to go, but text me or don't be afraid to call about that coffee!" Kyojuro says, making M/N nod in agreement.

Kyojuro went his way, waving goodbye at the two before taking off.

"Look at you! M/N L/N going on a date, but the date idea is so unflamboyant of you that my mice have better date ideas-"

"Shut up or I will become your wives' new husband." M/N fake smiled and then leaving Tengen behind.

"WHAT!"

M/N stared at the cure that Lady Tamayo made before she died. The cure that makes a demon into human again.

This is M/N's chance to restart his life with Kyojuro, living as humans and finally growing old together.

The same incident with the sickness that killed Kyojuro wouldn't happen again because medicine had upgraded since 1912.

Hearing his phone alerting him that he got a text message, he broke eye contact with the cure and looked on his phone, seeing that it was from Kyojuro.

Kyo :

Tomorrow? At the new cat café? Cats can be a good ice breaker! :)

Yes! Definitely, meet you there?

Kyo :

Yes, I'll see you there!

:)))

I want to make this into a book (5am Thought)

[palmselsewherepalace]

Hearing/learning about them getting sick (Genshin Impact GN!Reader x Furina, Yoimiya, Faruzan)

I'm kinda rusty on my writing but i thought doing little bits like these would help me get better. Some of them might sound cheesy or out of character like i said i'm rusty and i haven't written anything since my old embarrassing Sonamy fanfics. If anyone wants to request anything with GN!Reader X Genshin, i'll try my best to write for every adult character as long as it's sfw. Sorry for any grammar errors it's like 5AM right now and i wanted to finish this in one go. Hope ya'll have fun reading this!

FARUZAN

You've been working on your projects in Akademiya and haven't saw Faruzan since the early morning, that in itself is a weird sign that something was going on and you decided to visit your lovers house. As you knock on the door you hear shuffling noises, when door opens you see Faruzan wrapped herself in a blanket, barely able to walk, her nose is running, her skin looks pale, her eyes looks puffy and she's trying her hardest to look confident in front of you. "Oh Y/N! I didn't expect you to visit me tod- ACHO!" She sneezes and sniffles her nose. As she was about to speak you stop her and let yourself in. "Alright Madam you're going back to your bed and i'm making you a hot soup and some tea." "H-hey you don't have to i was stuck in a pyramid surely i can take care of myself!" You looked at Faruzan and put your palm onto her forehead to see if she has a high fever or not. Faruzan blushes but doesn't let it get to her head. You give a relived sigh as it doesn't feel that warm. "It's not that bad alright you really don't have to i can make myself some warm soup, take my medicines and rest." You looked at her with a concerned look in your face. "I know you can but with all respect Madam Faruzan i'm refusing and taking care of you, now come on go back to your bed." Faruzan protests but let's you help her get back to bed. When you arrive at her room you gently help her lie back down. While she was about to lie down you can hear her struggle with a headache and a little back pain. "Looks like old age getting to you." You make a snarky comment. Faruzan smiles faintly hits you with one of her small pillows. "Don't disrespect your elders or your partner." You hold her hand and rub the back of her hand with your thumb. This makes Faruzan blush and looks down at tangled hands. "You're going to get sick if you stay close to me." "I don't care, i can take some days off from my projects" "HEY DON'T YOU DARE TO TAKE YOUR WORK LIGHTLY!" Faruzan pulled your hand, even with the state she's in, she still has the power of a angry grandma. You laugh and cal m her down. "Okay okay now madam what would you like as your soup?" You get up from her side and walk towards her bedroom door. "Something with lots of vegetables and sour." Faruzan smiles and lies back down on her bed with a smile on her face feeling safe and loved.

FURINA

It's noon and you decided to visit a small cafe right in front of your house. As you we're drinking your coffee you noticed a familiar armored crab heading towards your house door. It was Mademoiselle Crabaletta, she noticed you sitting in the cafe and basically rushed towards you. Crabaletta looked like she was in a panic and trying to get you to follow her. You decided to pay for your coffee and follow Crabaletta. After you walking and Crabaletta running, you arrive'd at Furina's home. Crabaletta walked towards the door and with some handy moves of her claws she opened the door and pointed you to enter. While entering you heard a faint voice coming towards Furina's bedroom. "Crabaletta? Did you comeback with my medicines?" You heard, your lover Furina's voice and hear her cough really roughly. You heard Crabaletta make some sounds that you couldn't understand and heard a loud Furina from her room. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU BOUGHT Y/N AS WELL!?!" Crabaletta unbothered, pulled out a small bag out of her shell and pulled you with one of her claws towards Furina's room. When you enter the room you see your lover hiding under the covers while her other hydro summons look confused, her sea horse summon Surintendante Chevalmarin was holding a tray with some water and hot tea and Gentilhomme Usher was holding some tissues for Furina's runny nose. You walk towards Furina's bed and sit next to her, she's still under her covers but you can see her shape. You decided to talk out loud. "Oh wow my lover is sick what should i do to take care of her?" The way you spoke made Furina chuckle under the covers and you decided to continue and be more dramatic. "Can she even eat when she's suffering? What kinda see's do i need to cross to find her a proper medicine?!?" Furina pulls her head out of the covers while laughing and looks at you. "Look at you being a drama queen" As she talked you heard her sickly voice, you gently rub her cheeks with your hand. "Learned it from the best. Now chicken soup?" Furina coughs while nodding. "Please"

YOIMIYA

It was a rainy day in Inazuma and you're going through your daily routine, talking with your friends, helping elderly. While going through the villages you see Itto and some kids running towards you under the rain. "HEY Y/N YOU NEED TO HELP YOIMIYA!" Itto picks you up by your shoulders and shakes you like a toy. When Itto puts you back on the ground you rub your head. "Calm down tell me what happened." Itto still panicking. "Look kids told me that Yoimiya haven't been out of her house and her parents told them that she was so sick that she couldn't get out of her bed." After that looked at you in the eyes, breaking your personal space. "YOU HEAR THAT YOIMIYA NOT GETTING OUT OF HER BED!?! THAT'S LIKE SEEING FISHES FLY!" You pat Itto's shoulders and push him a little bit while calming him down. "Dude Itto, chill out, she probably caught cold and resting. But thanks for telling me i'll visit her right away." Itto gives you a thumbs up while still look like he's about to cry. "CURE THESE KIDS BIG SISTER THEY TRUST YOU!" You smile and give him a thumbs up back, and head towards Yoimiya's home. When you arrive you knock on the door, Yoimiya's father Ryuunosuke opens the door and smiles at you. "Oh i was expecting you to show up, i guess you heard about my little girl?" Ryuunosuke smiled and let you in. You walked towards Yoimiya's room and knocked on her door. You hear a faint cough. "Come in!" You open the door and gently wave at Yoimiya, who's been sitting on her bed. When Yoimiya see's you, her eyes lit up and she gives you a big smile. "Y/N! I've missed you my firecracker!" You sat next to Yoimiya and she gave you a hug but then immediately pulled back. "Oh i should keep my distance i don't want you to get sick as well." You smile and hug her back. "Hey if you're gonna take care of me while i'm sick i'm okay with it." Yoimiya burried her head into your chest and wrapped her arms around you and looked up to you. "Alway-ACHO!" She sneezes towards your face and both of you laugh as you two clean your faces with some towels.

[sweetandabitspycho]

Tej Parker x Reader

Warnings: bad writing, sad/comfort. First time doing a sad/comfort so be nice please.

“Why?" Tej asked trying to stay calm, but he was getting more aggravate. I was trying not to start a fight. Really I was. He stood blocking me from leaving.

"Because I need to get away." I said keeping an even voice. He looked hurt. He should. He needs to feel what I have been feeling. "From me? Why?" His voice cracked. "You haven't been honest with me. You are hiding something from me and I don't trust you completely really now." I said in a whisper. It hurt to say, but it was true. He was spending hours with his ex, to the point he was coming home at 5am.

"I can explain everything baby." His voice killed me. It was sad and broken. As if I had hit him. I wanted to die. I shook my head no. Too scared I would stay and break down.

"It's not want it looks like. Please!" He was about to cry. "No. Not right now. I can't." I said as he moved out of the way for me to walk out.

"I'm so sorry honey." Mia said cuddling into my side. "It's okay. I'll be okay." There was a knock on the bedroom door. "Come in." Mia said before Brian popped in with ice cream in hand. He gently kisses my head. "If you want I can shoot him, or have him shoot. I still have cop friends." He said laughing lightly, I couldn't bring myself to laugh but I said a no but thank you with a small smile.

After a while Mia left. I finally felt like I could cry.

It felt as if someone riped out my heart. I though we would be together until death and even then we would still be together. I thought he was it. The one.

I hugged the stupid stuffed bear he gave me. No, it wasn't making me feel better, I can't sleep without him. I felt safe with him. I pull my knees to my chest trying to get some sleep.

The next day.

I woke up to the sun peaky through the curtain. Rubbing my eyes I grabbed my phone to see the time. 12am, great lunch time. I saw I had five texted for Tej

Tej❤️ I'm sorry love it's not what it seems.

Tej❤️ I promise. I see how it can look like I'm cheating but I'm not.

Tej❤️ please just let me explain.

Tej❤️ I would never hurt you. I would die before please believe me.

Tej❤️ please just come meet me at our spot at 4. It will explain everything.

Our spot was a roof of an abandonment build. Maybe I should go. Should I go? What if it doesn't fix anything but brakes us more.

Before I could completely overthink going I got up off the bed and took a shower.

After I went down stairs to see Mia. She gave me a sad smile as she asked if I wanted coffee. I took it before telling her about Tej texting asking me to go at 4. She said I should and I agree with her. I should.

At 3pm I started to get dressed in a pair of shorts and a shirt that once belonged to Tej. At 3:20 I decided to head out after saying a quick goodbye. It only took 20 minutes to get there.

I started to climb up the four story building. It didn't take long to get to the top. That's when I saw it.

Tej stood at the table we had brought up for us, he was placing roses everywhere. He continued to place things on the table before I could tell him I was there he turned around.

He smiled at me, before walking towards me. "Please just let me explain, if you still want to break up I'll be okay. Just please let me explain." He said in a rush. I used to love it when he did that, but now It just made me want to hug him and tell him it's okay.

He took my silence as an answer then he started to explain. "I was not cheating. I know what it looks like but she was just helping me pick out your ring. I wanted to get the perfect ring and I didn't tell you I wanted it to be a surprise and I had it custom made for you, so please believe me." He said it so fast I almost didn't hear him. I hugged him before kissing him.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I thought that." I said hugging him tighter he gently pulled back before talking. "It's okay. I understand, I didn't realize how bad it looked until it was too late. I would have thought that too." I said getting on one knee. "Now will you please marry me?" I got down to his level before kissing him. "Of course! I love you so much!!"

[ihaznoclue]

I'm here for you

Pairings -> Glamrock Freddy x Reader

Warnings -> Swearing? but like everyone swears -_- also not proof read because I can't be fucked

Note -> Glamrock Freddy helps you feel better after not feeling well || This post is basically me not feeling well as my mental health is going down by the second and plus Glamrock freddy is like my comfort character ong

Genre -> Angst to Fluff

Glamrock freddy (I literally love him so much)

Today was a horrible day, you woke 3 times during the day feeling Ill, 2am, 4am and then 5am and you stayed up until 6am to go to work.

You didn't want to get fired or anything so you went to work while you were sick which was a bad idea to be honest

2 hours in your shift, you're urge to just vomit right then and there was about a 7-10 which was really bad but you didn't want to cause a scene that had children around

So you went somewhere private in a room where no-one was at or in, you then sat down on the cold floor underneath you as you silently cry a little

You didn't like crying in front of people but here you are crying like a little bitch just because you were feeling unwell, you literally had a worst night and now you were having a completely worst day today

You just hoped that no-one saw you or heard you crying in a room all by yourself just because you would cry so more when people look at you

You then stopped as you heard heavy footsteps coming to the door and then you heard a knock on the door gently

"Miss Name?" It was Freddy, the cute and cuddly bear that can wash all your worries away with a simply hug

"Y-Yeah" You tried to not get your voice to crack from all the crying you did but Freddy knew something wasn't right

"May I come In please?" He softly asked, you could tell his worried tone made you feel guilt that you made him worried even though he might of saw you earlier ago before you went off

"W-Wait just one second" You called out trying to wipe your tears away before Freddy comes in, then after a few seconds you then allowed him to come in

The door opened as you saw Freddy's face, he looked terribly worried for you

"Miss Name, are you sure you're okay, it seems that I heard some crying from this specific room and I just wanted to make sure you were okay"

"Thanks Freddy but I'm fine now.." You reassured him but he didn't move or leave the room instead he went to you as he sat down next to you on the cold floor

"I can tell you are not telling the truth, I can see the tear stains on your cheeks" He then leaned his finger to softly wipe some tears that were still going down your cheek, he then move his finger under your chin to make you look up at him

"Please, i want to help"

"I'm just having a shitty day, and I didn't get a good sleep as I kept waking up and I felt Ill earlier and I have no idea why I'm crying, I'm sorry if I worried you Freddy"

"You don't have to apologize Name, If you need anything I'm here for you"

"Can You stay here with me for a while until I feel better?" You leaned your head on his fluffy shoulder, feeling his warmth as you slightly nuzzled into him

He also smelt like vanilla and caramel, you heard a deep chuckled making your head move with his shoulder as it bounces up and down

"Of course, I'll stay here with you until you feel better"

"Thank you, freddy"

This is basically for me to feel a little bit better as today I went to school quite sick and lonely as I had a hard time until I went home early and today didn't get any better as well as my sleep as I kept waking up. And tomorrow is going to be a really hot day like around 29 degrees and I don't know if I should go to work placement T-T

-A<3

[daes0]

Rafayel invites you to see the sunrise and you don't remember ever seeing it before with him.

Pairing: {Rafayel x Reader}

Rating: {Teen & Up}

Word Count: {3.1k words}

"What?"

no more summer

You wake up to your phone vibrating on your nightstand. Annoyed at being woken up, you pick it up and answer without looking at the caller ID.

"Aww, did I wake you up?" Rafayel asks in a soft voice.

Rafayel tries to hold in a laugh but fails. "I haven't slept yet actually."

Your original annoyance melts away, but quickly comes back when you check the time. "It's 5am, why are you awake?"

You groan. Typical Raf.

"Can you come over, Miss Bodyguard?" he asks, the nickname seeming mischievous.

You groan louder. "You're a terrible employer, asking me to work so early."

"You wouldn't leave me all alone and defenseless, would you?"

"Fine." You huff, knowing that he's quite capable and is only saying this as an act. "This day is already starting off badly."

"Hmm, I'll make it up to you," Rafayel says, and you can hear his smile through the phone. He lowers his voice, "I'll make it a nice day for you."

Your heart skips a beat. "I'll be there in 15."

"See you then!" he exclaims before ending the call.

The summer mist clings to your clothes as you walk, but thankfully you're close to Rafayel's place. You didn't see the need of using your motorcycle when you're a ten minute walk away, but the unfortunate part of that is that you're lost in your thoughts as you're coming up.

Rafayel and you have been slowly getting closer for a few months now, but there's a sort of distance between you two that you're unable to traverse. Every step closer, every inch you take, Rafayel always matches your energy but stops just short of closure.

At first you had enjoyed the push-and-pull, the chase for a relationship, but now you longed for more. Perhaps it's time to take what you want.

"You look like you're thinking about something difficult," Rafayel says, opening the door before you realize you're in front of it.

You jump back, caught completely off-guard. "Rafayel!"

"Here you go," he says while handing you a red popsicle. "I wanted one so you're having one too."

You stare at it in confusion. "It's 5 in the morning."

"It's 5 in the morning during summer," he corrects. "And I…" he sings, "I can't eat two, you know."

Your gaze hardens as you continue to stare at him, hoping you can scare him into submission.

Unfortunately for you, Rafayel's much too aware of the empty threat of your glare. "And I haven't slept yet, remember? It doesn't feel too early to me."

He starts walking down the steps towards the beach before you can respond. You purse your lips. In the back of your mind, you remember that he did the same thing the first time you two met.

Your appetite doesn't really crave a popsicle, but better to eat it than to let it melt, so you give it a cursory lick. It's a pleasant cherry flavor that's much too sweet for the morning, but you eat it anyway as you follow after Rafayel.

You two walk in a comfortable silence. You stare at the back of Rafayel's head, the gentle waves of his purple hair ruffled by the wind. Your heart aches, and you can't stop yourself from asking, "Why did you call me?"

He turns his head slightly towards you and slows down his pace. "I didn't want to be alone," he answers with an unreadable expression, before taking a small bite off his popsicle.

You two arrive at an empty beach. The night sky is still dark, peppered with stars that reflect off the ocean's waves. So far away from the light of the city, only the moon lights your way.

Rafayel holds the popsicle in his mouth as he pulls his shirt off, not at all shy about his body. He places it on the sand and starts towards the sea, but quickly realizes that you stopped following.

"You're not coming with me?" He mumbles, the popsicle still in his mouth muffling his words.

You try hard to keep your eyes on his own. "I didn't bring a change of clothes."

He stretches his hand out to you, taking the popsicle out of his mouth with the other. "Come with me anyway."

A second passes, and then you're taking his hand.

Rafayel guides you into the water. You walk, the waves rippling pass your ankles, pass your knees, up your legs, until you're submerged up to your waist.

You lift your gaze up and are immediately struck by the utter universe reflected across the surface of the water. You look up and find it looking back at you, the stars twinkling in gentle patterns. Their gaze, a soft glow that doesn't quite reach you, lights the space around the golden moon.

"The night is so beautiful," you can't help but say.

Rafayel is quiet next to you, so you lift your gaze up. He stares into the sea, a clear sadness running through him.

"Raf?" you repeat, squeezing his hand.

"Hmm?"

"What's on your mind?" You rub circles on the back of his hand with your thumb.

Rafayel takes a small bite of his popsicle, finishing it. "Do you think love exists?"

Your thumb stops moving. "What do you mean?"

"Do you think people belong together? That forming a partnership for the rest of your life is possible?"

"I think people just need to keep making each other happy. That's what I count as love, romantic or not."

"What if they don't make you happy?" Rafayel asks, peering into your eyes. "What if you only feel happy for a moment, but you're destined to hurt that person?"

You think about it for a moment. "Then it's not love, just a relationship."

Rafayel hesitates. He looks at you like you've broken his heart, like you've stabbed his chest and all he can feel at your betrayal is an utter sadness. His voice is shaky when he asks, "What if you've fought for the relationship for so long that… that it feels like a waste if you don't follow through?"

You let go of his hand. The movement means nothing to you, but everything to Rafayel. "Then maybe it's not worth it."

A silent tear streams down Rafayel's face. He brushes it back with the back of his hand.

You hesitate, your voice small, "If you don't mind me asking, who are you talking about?"

Rafayel stares at the sea surrounding him, too in his own thoughts to answer.

"Raf?"

"Sorry, just thinking," he says with a shake of his head. "I'm talking about… about the ocean."

You're a bit surprised by this. You expected him to say it was someone else. "You love the ocean, don't you? It's your muse. Are you thinking about changing your muse?"

"The ocean was my first love." He smiles for you. "It's been there longer than humans have existed. But it's changed, morphed into a new shape, a new being. I love the ocean, but sometimes I wonder, is what I love still there? Despite all the changes, all the years, is she still the same?"

Maybe it's because he speaks so earnestly, but your feelings on the matter change. If it's the ocean and not a person, then you believe it's okay to love, or to change and to no longer love. It's a relationship that continues, rather than having a set time to end. The ocean is eternal within a person's life, afterall.

You take a small lick of your popsicle. "I don't know, but I think that maybe it's okay if the ocean's changed. That's what makes it special"

"I feel like I can never revisit her. The ocean, I mean."

You notice then, with an ice cold grip on your heart, that he's stopped talking about the sea. "Maybe that's okay, the ocean will still be there for you later. You can change your mind, or you can stay the same, it'll be there for you anyway."

"Maybe. But I feel so alone," Rafayel says as he lowers himself into the water. "I thought of the ocean as my home. I thought that, no matter where I am, so long as I can see her then everything will be okay. But it doesn't feel right anymore. She's not the same, and it's wrong of me to wish she was."

You wonder quietly to yourself if he's talking about an ex-lover. "What does the ocean mean to you?"

"Love," Rafayel answers. His eyes begin to tear up again, but you don't see it in the darkness. "Passion. Hope. All the pretty words. How can I live without her?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm tired, _____," he admits in such a quiet voice that you almost miss it. "So fucking tired."

"Let me help you," you say easily, more easier than it should be. You give your heart willingly, only because it's Rafayel. "Let me be there for you."

"What do you mean?" Rafayel counters, standing back up.

"I mean… let me be your ocean."

Rafayel gazes at you, a sense of wonder in his eyes. He looks at you like you hold the world, like you're the reason everything exists. He looks at you with devotion in his heart, and you want more than anything for him to confirm it with words.

Then he lowers his face slowly, until he's right in front of your popsicle. He takes a small bite out of it, the red dripping down the side of his lips. Steals a bit of your sweetness.

"Hey!" you yell out, swinging the popsicle back so he can't take any more.

Rafayel laughs, "It was dripping!" he explains.

You turn around, upset, and are suddenly faced with the starting sun over the ocean's horizon. During your conversation, the sky had turned from its original darkness to purple overtones with specks of red. You watch in amazement as the sun rises, until eventually you have to look away from its piercing gaze.

"Did I fulfill my promise?" Rafayel asks besides you.

You give him a quizzical look.

"To make it a nice day for you," he explains. "I lifted up the sun for you."

You can't help it. You laugh, a full-hearted laugh, almost dropping the remaining piece of your popsicle in the moment.

And then it starts to rain.

It surprises both of you, with the starting sun shining in striking colors across the skies, reflected across the barrier of the sea. But the sea breaks, pricked by the morning's tears, ripples across its surface.

Maybe you should be annoyed at the interruption, but for now you smile.

Rafayel, the specks of rain sliding across his collarbone and chest, smiles back at you. "Let's head home."

Rafayel is busying himself preparing a warm bath for you. Meanwhile, you can't help but look at him, your eyes tracing over his strong muscles and build.

"You're staring quite hard, _____," he smiles up at you.

You can't help the blush spreading on your face. "It's your fault for forgetting to grab your shirt. Littering is a crime, you know."

He shakes his head. "I'll grab it in the morning. It'll be fiiine."

You chuckle at his obvious mistake.

"Anyway! Your bath is ready." He makes towards the door. "I'll go after you."

"Hmm, but the water will be cold by the time it's your turn," you tell him.

"Are you asking me to stay?" Rafayel chuckles softly, but leaves anyway before you can say anything.

You stare at the closed door, letting go of a breath. Whether he's doing it on purpose or not, it seems that even when you're together he's still avoiding you.

Since the first time you stayed with Rafayel, you had learned that neither of you are willing to take the couch. Rafayel, too proud to give the bed up, and you, too annoyed to relent. So you shouldn't have been so surprised when you two ended up sleeping on the same bed yet again.

"Why don't you have more blankets?" you sulk.

"Oh no…" Rafayel fake cries. "We'll have to cuddle for warmth! What a terrible circumstance, if only I had thought to buy another blanket the last three times you stayed over…"

You lightly push against his shoulder. "Don't be mean," you say with a smile.

"You know, there's another way to warm each other up," Rafayels says, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

You tilt your head. You know he has something planned, but you can't help but play along with him. "How?"

"You need to activate your senses," Rafayel says, his voice a seductive whisper.

"Your senses…" you mumble. "Like this?"

You bring your finger up to Rafayel's lips, rubbing his bottom lip with your thumb. You feel a sense of electricity run through you.

He sucks in a breath. "You're only touching the surface."

You move your hand down, lightly tracing his skin. You feel the curve of his neck, the edges of his collarbone, the softness of his skin.

Rafayel huffs, looking away. You're not sure if it's in annoyance or excitement. "...you have to do more than that." he says under his breath.

Your hand wanders down to his chest. You feel his heart beat against your skin as you grasp his heart.

Then he's grabbing your hand and putting it on the side of your head against the bed. He pins you, his breath heavy against you.

"Your intentions are as clear as day," he whispers under his breath, a light blush on his face.

"Do you not like it?" you tease.

"If I said I didn't, would you stop?" he counters.

"I would," you answer easily. "I still would."

He stares at you, then falls on top of you with a huff. "I don't understand you."

"Funny, I don't understand you either." You hug him against you. "But I want to. I want to know you."

"But I can't tell you everything," he mumbles against your ear. "I can't help but be afraid of you knowing me. Knowing who I am."

"I want nothing more than to ease your mind."

His heart beats against yours and he lifts himself up gently. He's looking at you, all of you, when he says. "Would you still like me no matter who I was? Who I am, who I become?"

"I would love the person I know," you say, your breath tickling his lips. "I just need to know you."

Then you're kissing him, your lips gliding over his, parting and giving access, and he takes. You press yourself against him and yearn for love.

Rafayel is the first to break away. He lays back down and brings a hand to his lips. "You stole a kiss."

You turn to your side and you chase after him. "I want you."

"What if you can't have me?" Rafayel says in a low voice.

"You're speaking in riddles again," you say while sitting up, moving over Rafayel.

"Why do you chase after me?" he asks, staring up at you like you hold the stars in the sky.

You hover over him, your face so close to his. "Because I want to."

"Do you think it's destiny?"

"Maybe. Is that what's stopping you? Whether or not we're destined to be together?" you ask, and what you mean is whether or not you're a good match, but that is not what Rafayel understands from your words.

"It is," he admits. "But I know we're soulmates."

You smile. "Then don't let it stop you."

"What if… What if we're destined to end? What if we're soulmates but our souls are meant to hurt if we're together?"

"You can't decide that," you counter.

"I can't," his voice trembles, "But I know how it ends."

Your brow furrows, both annoyed and confused. "How would you know that?"

"I just do."

You roll off him and lay next to him. "You're allowed to push me away, quit whatever it is we have going on, say you hate me or whatever. But don't do it because of how it might end. Do it because you don't want me."

Rafayel is quiet for a moment. "I do want you." His voice shakes.

"Then why do you hesitate?"

Rafayel puts his hands on his face, frustrated at himself. "You already have my heart. Must I give you more?"

You groan. "We're getting nowhere."

Rafayel chuckles softly. Tears paint his face, but you don't see them in the dark. "Give me time. That's all I need."

"I'll wait," you admit before turning around, ready to sleep off the stress from this conversation. "But if you make me wait too long, you'll lose me."

I'm hoping so, Rafayel thinks quietly to himself. I hope you never have to experience the love that I have to give.

You wake up a few hours later. You sit up and stretch, making no attempts to hide the fact that you're awake, but Rafayel is too tired to notice.

He sleeps quietly, a sheet thrown haphazardly over him. And you hope against hope that he'll give in to you, that he'll stop hesitating, that he'll kiss you one day like he wants you and not like he's afraid.

You kiss his cheek, but he doesn't stir. So you leave.

Rafayel wakes up. For a moment, he's a god, then a rogue, then a painter. His lived experiences twitch and convulse before forming into a blade of time, sharpened to an edge until it's a memory. He awakes to an empty bed, and he wonders which part of the story he's in. How close to the end of summer he is.

He says your name to the void surrounding him.

"Why? Why must I fall in love with her? Just for it to end in tragedy?"

The concept of destiny cannot help but laugh. Like a child on a playground having fun with its favorite friend.

"Let me go," Rafayel pleads. "Just this once, let me go. Let me choose."

The laughs echo around him, mocking.

Rafayel stares down at his hands. "Why must I love her?"

The concept of destiny does not respond.

Rafayel feels tears form in his eyes. His heart is desperate for you, yearning for your touch, and he knows he will succumb to it. That wretched happiness, poison to his brain, a parasite that controls his every move. He's damned to be in love, and he's damned to know how this summer will end.

A part of him begs, then, for no more summer.

END

[danieyells]

hi there,

thank you so much for all the voicelines you post !! if it’s okay, can i request subaru’s ?

thank you again !

You're welcome! At some point I might go back and put in the ones I leave out because they don't appeal to me as much lol but since i always end up posting 99% of them anyway I think it's enough for most people hahaha. It's all of them now! Sorry for the delay.

I WAS GONNA OMIT ONE OR TWO BECAUSE OF SPOILERS but eh i'll just warm for like. extra spoilers. since after doing more code peeking it wasn't the spoiler i thought it was. SUBARU IS A SWEETIE THOUGH. I also read Subaru's chats which were put in the code recently and. Man this guy needs anxiety meds. I have a small guess as to what his stigma is, but we'll learn in a few days anyway.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"I'm very sorry to have kept you waiting. It's wonderful to see you again."

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"It looks like there's a notice for you. I'd be happy to go pick it up for you if you've got your hands full. Oh, forgive me if I'm overstepping."

oh no he's anxious about helping--

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"I really am so lucky to be surrounded by so many kind people like you."

"I never thought I'd get the chance to enjoy the lifestyle of a student until I came to Darkwick. Every day truly is fulfilling here."

it feels like subaru is like. . .the only one who actually enjoys school life here. . .or who really enjoys being here period lmao. . . .

"You think I'm always smiling? Ha ha, I hear that a lot. It just happens when I'm around all of you."

"I may be the captain, but it's just in name. I think Haku is much better suited for the job than me."

"I've been working since I was four, so people often said I was mature for my age. But the truth is, I've still got a lot to learn."

that makes two characters whose parents have essentially been keeping them from normal life and normal childhood for work reasons since they were four year olds. . . .

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"I tend to just have hot water for breakfast. I know it would be better for me to eat a proper meal, but it's just so much effort."

DO WE REALLY HAVE TO START WITH "I NEED THE GHOULS TO EAT PROPER FUCKIN MEALS". . . .

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm sorry I'm so late. The campus is so crowded I can never manage to walk in a straight line, so it always takes me longer than I think. Silly, isn't it?"

baby you're hardly the first person i've met with anxiety about crowds. you're fine.

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"What would I do without Haku's help? Hotarubi would be a mess without him."

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I wonder if I should apply early to take out any common artifacts I might need for this mission. I'll ask Haku what he thinks..."

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Ah!  You surprised me there... I just got back from a small errand. Do you need something?"

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Ever since I was a child, the performing arts were my only focus. Maybe that's why people always say my mannerisms are so peculiar. It bothers you too, doesn't it?"

poor boy doesn't know how to act if he isn't acting. . .he doesn't know how to exist off-script. . .no wonder he made a deal with a demon. it's probably the first thing he's ever done for himself.

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'd like to go to the cafeteria, but the line is always so long. I feel bad taking time to choose while people are waiting behind me. The bar of entry feels a little high."

i am once again suggesting subaru get anxiety meds. hell go to sinnostra and get some weed, i bet they sell that. i hear it can help.

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm just about to go and meet a friend. I hate to inconvenience you like this, but if it's something urgent, could you speak to Haku about it instead?"

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What am I going to do? We're supposed to be meeting up in an hour... If I cancel now, they'll hate me..."

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Whew... I'll walk you back to your house, {PC}. Oh, it's no problem at all, I assure you! I wanted some fresh air anyway."

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"I have an Anomalous Ecology test coming up. It's such a fascinating subject, I couldn't help but stay up all night studying. Now I'm a little sleep-deprived."

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm going to stretch my legs a little. I might not have a show to practice for right now, but I need to keep putting myself through my paces. I'll get rusty otherwise."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm sorry my phone's been making so much noise. I recently downloaded an app by mistake, and it won't stop sending me notifications..."

awww he's also technologically incompetent. . .poor guy was probably raised with such a heavy focus on his career he just. never needed a smartphone. anyone he needed to contact or who needed to contact him was probably always very close by. it sounds like he didn't even properly go to school before going to Darkwick. Somebody please take this boy on a walk. like anywhere. take him to a library. buy him a churro. can sho make churros? this is somebody who's never had any sort of normal social experience and sees how different he is and wishes it weren't the case, unlike Ritsu who assumes everyone else is like him, i think he'd like to have some more Experiences.

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"... ...Oh! Hello, {PC}—I didn't even notice you there. My mind was somewhere else."

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"Good morning! Sorry? My hair's messy? You're right, it's sticking right up at the front... That's embarrassing. I'll fix it right away."

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I usually have lunch in the dormitory. I do eat on the terrace with Lyca every now and then, but he seems so busy these days..."

Lyca is one of the members of Obscuary, btw! Seems like he and Subaru are friends.

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I didn't take you for a night owl, {PC}. Since you're here, I suppose I'll stay up a little longer. You're sure you're okay? You're not sleepy?"

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Do you visit Sinostra very often, {PC}? I see... Oh, no reason. I was just making conversation. Ha ha."

why do you ask that. . .a certain mafioso captain wouldn't happen to be suspicious of you would he. . .or maybe you owe them money. . .or maybe you used to be part of Sinostra and moved to Hotarubi. . . .

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's getting late, {PC}. How about we finish this tomorrow? Thank you for keeping me company all this time."

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to come all the way to my room to wake me up—I'd feel terrible. I do very much appreciate the thought, though."

it's okay buddy jin already makes them do it, one more pit stop won't hurt.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Oh, hello, {PC}. Sorry, I was actually just on my way out. I should be back by evening—do you mind if we speak then?"

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Lyca has seen my message, so why hasn't he responded to it? I hope nothing bad has happened to him..."

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Lyca will adapt well to human society, I'm sure of it. I'm so relieved that Darkwick chose to trust him. I can't thank you enough for your help."

he really likes Lyca huh? that is his dog.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"You can't sleep? Then let me tell you some stories. Legend has it that evil spirits appear once you've told a hundred. Now, what number was I up to..."

BOY IS TRYNA GET YOUR ASS HAUNTED.

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"I don't want to seem like I'm testing you, I just... I get really anxious sometimes... I'm sorry. I'm being weird, aren't I?"

he's the type to ask 'are you sure you love me? are you sure you wanna be with me?' after you get married and move in together and own a house and have two kids with another on the way. he's the hyper anxious 'i'm sorry we disagreed about our favorite colors do you hate me?' friend(affectionate) I wonder though, is he apologizing for seeming like he's testing you because he's using his stigma to see what you've been up to or something. . .? Probably not lol it's more likely he just keeps asking if you like him

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"There is no time like spring. Everyone seems more relaxed this time of year. It's reassuring to see."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I have some sakura mochi. I was just about to prepare some tea to go with it—would you like to join me?"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"They have no control over whether they bloom, and yet they get made a spectacle of nonetheless... Oh, sorry—I was talking about the cherry blossoms."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"There are many different flowers growing in Hotarubi, but I think the wisteria are my favorites. This is the best time to see them, so you should take a walk around."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Hot today, isn't it? It's always raining in Hotarubi, so it does provide a little escape from the blazing summer sun, but... Ha ha. It is very humid, isn't it?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Summer makes me think of the ghost story Yotsuya Kaidan. The scene where Oiwa becomes hysterical, having realized her her face has been disfigured— incredible."

Yotsuya Kaidan is one of the best known japanese ghost stories! It's extremely violent, so read the summary at your discretion. The scene in question has Oiwa shown her reflection by her sister's boss to see that the cream she was given by a woman who was in love with her husband was actually some sort of poison that instantly scarred her face. She grabs a sword and goes to kill her, only for her to accidentally slit her own throat.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Hotarubi House holds regular festivals during the summer months. If you need a yukata to wear, I'd be happy to pick one out for you."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I don't mind scary stories, but when that biwa in the tea room started playing by itself, it did make me jump a little..."

slight spoiler, although you can probably figure it out from this but. . .Zenji is a ghost. Subaru currently can't actually see him or hear his voice. . .only Haku, the pc, and, perhaps not so oddly, Towa can afair. All of his youtube content doesn't have him or his voice in it because he can't be recorded by cameras. So Subaru doesn't realize that the biwa playing on its own is actually Zenji playing the biwa.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"The air has gotten crisper, and the leaves are changing color. I know it's only natural for the seasons to shift, so why does it make my heart ache so much?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Oh, these? They're some chestnuts I found. I know—I should give them to Sho. I'm sure he'll be able to make something delicious with them."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"That's another kuchikiri tea ceremony under my belt. It's an annual tradition where one cuts open a tea jar to reveal the tea that was preserved from the first harvest."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"On long autumn nights when the moon is shining beautifully in the sky, it's hard to resist taking a walk outside. Don't stay out until too late though, {PC}."

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"...Oh, {PC}. Good morning... I had a hard time getting up today. It must be the cold... Ha ha. Not very captain-like, is it?"

Jin, Taiga, and Ed are all prone to not getting out of bed. and Yuri falls asleep on operating tables when he has down time. Trust me Subaru you are perfectly captain-like.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Today, I'm going to order ingredients from one of my favorite stores so we can all make negima—tuna and scallion—hot pot together. Please, do join us."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"It's cold out today. I was just thinking about lighting the fire. Would you like to come and warm up with me?"

oh subaru you don't even know how that sounds

(between 8pm and 5am)

"People say winter makes you want to snuggle up with someone, but I find that a good blanket does a much better job."

i agree that blankets are much easier to manage than people lol. probably warmer too.

His birthday: (February 20th)

"A present? For me? Thank you... I didn't expect you to do anything for my birthday, so I'm a little caught off guard. I really appreciate it."

Your birthday:

"Um... Happy birthday.  I really hope this year will be a wonderful one for you."

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. I hope I can depend on your guidance and support again this year."

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Chocolate? Oh, It's Valentine's Day, isn't it? Does that mean these are for me...?"

nah i just wanted you to look at them. YES THEY ARE FOR YOU BBY. why would you be showing him chocolate if it wasn't for him! On any day, not just valentine's day!!

White Day: (March 14th)

"These are for you, {PC}. I put in a special order for monaka from my favorite confectioner in Ginza. They're wafers filled with bean jam—I hope you like them."

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Earlier, Haku told me he was switching houses. It gave me a real shock— I'm very relieved that it wasn't true..."

i bet subaru made the most scared kicked puppy face and started apologizing for being such an awful captain and blamed himself for that haku would go to a different house and haku had to quickly explain it was just a prank for fear that subaru might burst into tears.

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Happy Halloween. I know it's nothing special, but I've prepared some treats for the occasion. Oh... But you're more than welcome to play a trick instead."

please don't trick him. april fool's day was hard enough for him.

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Merry Christmas. We already have our New Year decorations up in Hotarubi, so it has a real east-meets-west atmosphere now. I hope everyone is okay with it..."

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Everyone seems busy at the moment. Maybe I should use this opportunity to tidy the garden..."

(13 affinity and above)

"{PC}? Oh... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I was just worried because you were so quiet..."

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"You're back... I'm so relieved. I was worried I'd done something to make you feel uncomfortable..."

this man shakes like a chihuahua 24/7. like you can taste the anxiety coming off of him. i love him. he's so pathetic(affectionate). i wanna squeeze his hand reassuringly and tell him everything's gonna be okay. i wanna hug him and pat his head. i wanna take him places so he learns more about the world outside of working. i wanna watch him do schoolwork excitedly because he's never really gone to school before and it's a new and exciting experience. i want him to experience the most mundane aspects of life with wonder.

good boy. yeah. get him anxiety meds /nodnod