#lyrics from another dimension

[thirdeyeblue]

You missed when time and life shook hands and said goodbye

When the earth folded in on itself

And said, “Good luck. For your sake, I hope heaven and hell are really there, but I wouldn't hold my breath.”

You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste death?

-Modest Mouse, ‘Ocean Breathes Salty’

[what-plant-metaphor-am-i]

Obiyuki playlist - Before Dawn

It's a clear, cold night in the wilderness of Lyrias.

Best listened to at night over earphones ✨🌕✨

[love-belle]

yeah my boyfriend's pretty cool !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they're living the childhood best friends to lovers trope.

or

for when you just can't help falling in love. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - just had the most amazing idea for a daniel social media au omg!!! anyways i hope u like this i love you thank you for reading <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and 896,525 others

yourusername they say home is where the heart is

7,826 comments

username AIN'T NO WAY

username Y/N?????? WHAT IS THIS???????

username im okay (i am screaming i am crying i am yelling)

username hahahahahahah!! NOT funny babe!!!!!!! u can come home now ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

lilymhe chuckles knowingly

*liked by yourusername*

username WHO THE FUCK

username great another parasocial relationship gone

pierregasly y/n.

-> yourusername pierre

-> pierregasly call me right now.

-> yourusername my phone fell and broke sorry.

username HELP OH MY GOD

username NOT HER QUOTING LONDON BOY

-> username WHAT IF IT'S LANDO

-> yourusername he wishes it was him

-> landonorris literally threw up at the thought

-> yourusername babe ur so nice to me ❤️

-> landonorris get away from me im telling ur bf

-> charles_leclerc oui?

-> pierregasly charles??

-> username CHARLES???

-> yourusername get out of my comment section u hoes and lando i can't WAIT to see you on track this weekend

username NOT Y/N TRYING TO SOFT LAUNCH HER RELATIONSHIP

charles_leclerc no surprise he had to cook considering you can't even make cereal

-> yourusername well fuck u too ig

username this comment section is so chaotic i love it sm

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, yourusername and 936,685 others

charles_leclerc eyes like sinking ships on waters so inviting i almost jump in

8,627 comments

username GOODBYE

username NOT CHARLES USING TAYLOR SWIFT LYRICS

username i feel like i've gone to an alternate dimension

username IS NO ONE GONNA ACKNOWLEDGE THE SECOND PICTURE?????? HELLO???????

lewishamilton hope you're both having fun 🤍🤍🤍

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username THE GRID KNOWS SOMETHING I SWEAR

username i have questions

username CHARLES AND Y/N BOTH SOFT LAUNCHING AT THE SAME TIME

-> username i've connected the clues

-> username u didn't connect shit

-> username i've connected them

pierregasly woah rue when was this???

-> charles_leclerc haha well you see

-> pierregasly i'm seeing.

-> charles_leclerc my phone fell in the water ok bye.

-> username charles is fighting for his life rn

-> username dude can't lie for shit 😭😭😭

username i already know she's so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

yourusername charles is a swiftie confirmed ⁉️⁉️⁉️

-> charles_leclerc in your dreams

carlossainz55 she has changed you

-> charles_leclerc i know, my playlist is literally just taylor swift and harry styles at this point

-> yourusername she clearly has great taste

-> charles_leclerc of course she does, she's dating me

-> yourusername right!!!!! ofc!!!!!!

username everyone knows something

-> pierregasly i don't

-> username same brother 🫤🫤🫤

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by f1wags_, chxrleslxclxrc, hearts4y/n and 78,637 others

paddock.news charles leclerc and y/n gasly spark dating rumors after "soft launching" simultaneously on various social media platforms. rumors have always surrounded the pair through the years, but this time we believe that they're not just rumors. they have also been spotted out on "dates" as y/n has been attending various grand prix to support her brothers and friend and now apparently, boyfriend. they've also been posting each other on their instagram stories a lot lately. neither of the parties have made a comment about this, though we are rooting for them. for more details, click on the link in our bio.

5,267 comments

username NAH THEY'RE DEFINITELY DATING

username pierre is gonna go crazy omg

username they're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username they're already married in head so 🥱

username no bc they're literally living the childhood best friends to lovers trope

username pierre is gonna lose his mind i can just tell

username praying for charles 🙏🙏🙏

username no bc charles is in for hell of a ride bc y/n's literally everyone's favourite on the grid

-> username imagine having 19 drivers out to k!ll u

-> username not to mention a couple team principals 😭😭😭

username CHARLES MF LECLERC U BETTER SQUARE THE FUCK UP FOR STEALING MY WIFE

username they're so domestic coded in the second slide like 🫤🫤🫤

username what wouldn't i do to be a fly on the wall when pierre and charles see eachother

username my generation's romeo and juliet or whatever

username they're so you're in love by taylor swift coded

username i want what they have 💔💔💔💔

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, carmenmmundt and 892,915 others

charles_leclerc no i don't like the tshirt

tagged yourusername

8,156 comments

username SHUT UP

username IS THIS A CONFIRMATION

username THE FIRST TSHIRT OMG

username i NEED that tshirt omg

lewishamilton personally, i love the tshirt

-> yourusername RIGHT

-> charles_leclerc both of you are so wrong

username HELLO HI WHAT IS THIS WHAT WHATCJWAT

username SIR U CAN'T JUST POST THIS AND DIP

username I NEED THAT SHIRT SO BAD OH MY GOD

username these bitches need to stop playing

username mf say it with your chest that y'all dating

yourusername but u like the one who's wearing it

-> charles_leclerc eh debatable

-> yourusername sorry can't hear u over u sending me 2528298 messages when i went out to get the newspaper from outside our DOOR

-> charles_leclerc STOP

-> username NAH THIS BOY IS DOWN BAD

-> username OUR DOOR?????????

-> username HELLO????

username the real fashion icon of the paddock

-> yourusername real lewis got nothing on me

*liked by charles_leclerc and lewishamilton*

username im so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭😭😭

pierregasly someone let me out

-> charles_leclerc will you chase me with a fork again?

-> yourusername and will you stop throwing napkins and spoons at my bf???

-> pierregasly yes

-> pierregasly (no)

-> yourusername ur staying in the bathroom

-> pierregasly LET ME OUT

-> username NOT PIERRE CHASING CHARLES WITH A FORK

-> username CAN'T BELIEVE THEY LOCKED HIM IN THE BATHROOM

-> username IM CRYING OMG

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and 916,628 others

yourusername yeah my boyfriend's pretty cool but he's not as cool as me argue in the comments

tagged charles_leclerc

comments are disabled for this post

[ladyquietus]

watching Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse and knowing Hobie Brown has gotten me feral. Could not stop thinking about being that man’s lover and oh the things he could do. Jesus.

Getting Real

Hobie Brown x Fem y/n: Smut Read

© ladyquietus

AN: a bit older y/n from another dimension, some smut, fluff, cussing, nicknames, semi age gap, the works.

W: I apologize if I’ve made any mistakes, English is not my first language.

Minors, ageless blogs do NOT interact.

>> Long read ahead

“Oh, I bet you think your honey taste like sugar. But honey, sugar don’t taste that bitter~ Baby, you ain’t sweet. Look at what you did to me~…” y/n sings to the lyrics, tapping her foot on the floor. The music blaring from her headphones, getting distracted from doing homework infront of her.

She adjusted the frames of her glasses, licking her lips and continued humming to the tone. Failing to notice the flashes of bright, sharp lights beaming through the bedroom window behind her.

It was heavily pouring outside, the shut window slowly rutted opened. Slim fingers appeared on the frame, pulling a bit more force Til the figure could come through the window.

The masked vigilante made his way inside, patting off droplets of rain. He took off his mask, letting his full blown hair pop up.

He smirked at the sight of y/n, sitting infront of her desk, Clueless about this presence. The music she was listening and the loudness of the rain made y/n unaware of Hobie approaching her.

Hobie posed finger gun on his right hand, pressing the tips of his fingers on y/n’s upper back.

“Hands where I came see em’ lil’ lady” he jokes, feeling her tensed.

Y/n quickly pulled off her headphones and spun around, looking at a chuckling Hobie in disbelief.

“You ass,” she glared at him, pushing him off.

“You’re gonna get robbed easily love, I won’t be around you for that.” He holds his hands up in defense.

“Luckily, we’ve got another Spider-Man here huh, what’re you doing here anyways?” She questions, crossing her legs on the office chair she was sitting.

Hobie plopped down on her bed, wincing a bit when he noticed a small stain of blood on his shirt on the left side where his ribs lie.

“Shit.” He cussed, pulling off his leathered spiked jacket.

“What’s wrong?” Y/n stood up concerned, slowly made her way towards him and sat beside him.

“Just a graze, don’t worry. Must’ve gotten caught a crossfire between these crime families back home, what nasty lil’ shits.”

“And you didn’t feel that until now? You must’ve been in a load of adrenaline, It must be wearing off.” y/n sighs, kneeling down beside the bed and pulled out a storage box. She took out a first aid kit and sat back again beside Hobie.

“You’re cute when you’re concerned doll, it’s like you’re forgetting I have massive pain tolerance.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, feeling her worry for him a bit made his heart swell.

He always kept his heart up on his sleeve, meeting y/n months ago somehow changed that despite they’re still friends. He also knew that she was older than him, two years older in fact and it must’ve set her back.

They met when he and Gwen came to her dimension, looking for their villain of the week that somehow skipped across dimensions and landed on hers. She was a med student, walked in a parking lot alone at a convenience store. Not knowing she was being followed a creep whom Hobie took action on.

The rest was history.

“Putting your schooling in good use aye?” He jokes again, taking off his shirt after seeing her getting crossed.

Thou shall not poke a pissed off y/n.

“Glad you find this funny, what would happen if you got hit somewhere serious huh Hobie?” She clicked her tongue, throughly disinfecting his flesh wound.

“Relax, you’re forgetting who you’re talking to.”

Hobie’s relentless teasing didn’t lighten the situation, it just made y/n worry more whenever he’s not around. She would never really know the next time he’ll come back.

He felt it, she was always the worrywart. Somehow he could read what was going on through her pretty little head.

“I’ll always come back to you, my love. So please stop worrying, I’m here with you right now and I promise you I’d want to go through everything for you.” His voice softens, his gaze never leaving hers.

He leaned just a bit closer, caught a whiff of her lavender shampoo and declared that it was his favorite scent.

“Hobs…” she quietly says, feeling the tension between them. Her eyes meeting his, couldn’t help but noticed he kept glancing on her lips.

“Mhm, yes mamas?” He couldn’t help but inch a bit closer, grazing his lip on hers.

Just a lil bit of tease.

The slight cold of his steel lip ring had made y/n’s skin crawl with goosebumps. His rough, firm hand radiated a lot of warmth on hers. Yet his thumb caressing the top of hers made something stir up inside her.

The new nickname he gave her wasn’t helping, she felt a bit guilty she wanted to hear it more from his lips.

He was waiting for her, he didn’t want to freak her out if he was too forward. But he was too damn excited, he’s been wanting to kiss her for a while now.

It was eating him up inside.

y/n closed the distance, letting her lips connected to his but it was only quick and subtle. She was nervous as hell, the last time she kissed someone was her ex-boyfriend a year ago.

“Babe that’s not enough, not enough at all.” His voice was heavy with need, in need of her.

Hobie raised his left hand, enclosing his slender fingers on her jawline. Grasping it softly and pulled her closer, wrapping his other hand around her waist to pull her on top of him.

Y/n squeaked In surprised, Instinctively holding on to his broad shoulders.

“Hobs-”

His lips immediately crashing to hers, he loved how soft it felt and the taste of earl grey tea still lingered on her tongue.

y/n moaned on his mouth, it was music to his ears and he wanted to listen to it more.

The kiss was sloppy, y/n was struggling to keep up. Her nails dug into his skin, making him grow excited beneath her. She surely felt it and subconsciously started to grind on it through his leathered pants.

“Mm mas, You’re making it hard to stop,” he says in between kisses.

She grew too fond of it, she didn’t care if her lips had start to swell or bruised. It was addicting to make out with Hobie Brown.

“Mmm,” were the only sounds she left out. Taking the lip ring between her teeth and pulled slowly.

Hobie’s grip on her waist and thighs got tighter when she did it, almost made him cum on that spot. He swore this woman was gonna be the death of him if she keeps it up.

y/n’s hands started to trail, from his shoulders to his chest. Feeling every detail of him, how warm he was despite the nonchalance he always gives off to most people.

She reached right above his pants, Hobie was sensitive to what she has touched.

y/n dragged a finger over the tent, her wetness grew at the feeling of how hard he was of her.

They both finally pulled away, heavy breathing. Hobie leaned against the headboard, still not loosening his vice on her as if she were to disappear any moment.

Looking at her all disheveled and swollen lips, her eyes kept screaming at him to just take her then and there.

“Love, I’d want you to shoot me in the head if I ever say no to you but have you even done it before? I wouldn’t want to rush you to something you’re not comfortable with.” He reassures in a soft voice despite his lustful gaze.

y/n couldn’t care less anymore, she had too much pent up frustration. She was still a virgin, the only farthest thing she had done with her ex was giving and receiving oral sex.

“Hobs, if you won’t fuck the living daylights out of me- I will be putting a lock on that window the minute you leave.” she huffs, palming his hardness.

“Damn mamas alright, I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckles, both of his hands crawling their way to her ass. A bit frustrated that she was still covered in shorts and a baggy shirt, it may look cute on her but Hobie preferred much that she wore close to nothing at all.

“Gonna need these off first,” he mumbles, burying his face on her neck, leaving lazy kisses and soft bites.

“Couldn’t agree more,” she replied, closing her eyes and biting her lip to moan out loud.

Hobie ripped out her shorts, tugging the cloths away and was surprised to feel her wearing a thong.

“Jesus, love.” He smiles against her neck, immediately groping her cheeks and slapping the right.

He pulled on her thong, making her wet slit grind against the thin fabric.

“Fuck, Hobs…”

“You’ve been wearing this kind of panties around me all this time?” Another slap on her right cheek.

“Mmm sometimes,” y/n started to enjoy this too much.

Another slap before his firm fingers started to spread her cheeks apart, groping and gripping them all around.

Without warning, Hobie pushed her over on her back. Making them switch sides. He was on top, wouldn’t even stop smiling at her.

“Do you know how many times I keep thinking about you being underneath me?” He caresses her cheek, placing a peck.

He lowered himself more, placing more and more small yet sweet kisses. Raising the disruptive shirt to her chest til her breasts were on full view to his pleasure.

Hobie already loves them, they were perfect to him. They weren’t too small nor too big, mouth started to salivate at the size of her areolas.

Letting one arm to support himself, he cupped one of her breast and kneed on the erected bud. Licking her lips for another neediness.

“Something tells me it’s gonna be more than once,” y/n managed to whimper out, Hobie taking the whole bud in his mouth.

His hand caresses it’s way to her swollen pussy lips, eating the thin line of cloth. He could feel how needy and wet she was for him, and God she was soaked.

She squirmed, bucking her hips for more of his fingers. Meanwhile, Hobie’s mouth was occupied- switching between one tit to another.

His fingers itched to plunge deep inside her ache, he pulled the thong to the side and started rubbing her clit.

“Hobs… fuck, that feels good,” she mewed, kept on squirming.

Hobie hummed in pleasure, feeling her wither from his touch made him smirk.

Y/n’s body jerked when she felt a sharp and pleasurable pain when Hobie softly hit one of her nipples.

“Hobie!” He chuckles, licking the aching nub soothingly.

“If you’ll let me mas, I need to taste you. Need to fill my hunger for you right now.” He left her chest, licking and biting his way down to her abdomen. Leaving so much marks, he’s gotten too proud and wanted to mark her more.

She couldn’t say anything but whimpers. She nodded her head in response, but this only wanted Hobie to tease her more.

Without warning, both of his fingers plunged inside her. Feeling the walls tightening around him, it was so warm- he started imagining how amazing it must feel if it were his cock.

“Use your big girl words, love.” He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made y/n grip her hands all over his body.

“Hobs- eat me out please,”

Hobie didn’t waste any time, he’d gotten too needy- placing his lips on her sex. It reeked of desperation.

Both his left hand and mouth enjoyed giving y/n too much pleasure, His right gripping on her inner thigh to keep her open for him. Y/n still kept on squirming, her legs begging to close in on his head.

It was too much.

She bit her bottom lip too hard, she swore she was already seeing stars as Hobie kept on abusing her pussy with the combo. She couldn’t help but let her moans out, a few cusses and whimpers of “Hobs” kept escaping from her mouth.

She felt this wave, this urge for release.

“Wait Hobs- Hobie! I’m gonna pee- stop,” she started to pull away, gripping on the sheets as if it were to help her.

Hobie didn’t say anything but looked at her, meeting her eyes but didn’t stop. He went faster, flicking his tongue all over her wet sex and fucking it with his fingers.

“Hobi- Hobie,” she couldn’t escape, Hobie kept on pulling her back. The more she struggled- the closer the release.

“Hobie” her toes curled, letting the wave overcome her.

It came in spurs, she started squirting all over his mouth and face. Hobie immediately started lapping her up, trying to drink every little drop.

That’s a first, even my ex wasn’t able to do that with me. Her chest was heaving, thighs still trembling from the aftermath.

“If I knew you tasted this good, I would’ve done this sooner.” He smiles, giving her pussy one last kiss before kissing her lips a few times.

“Mmm- sorry, I made a mess on your face,” she breathes out, pussy still sensitive as Hobie’s huge girth was pressing against it.

Hobie unzipped his pants, quickly taking it off and freed his aching cock from his boxers.

“You’re gonna have to make another mess, mas. Whole lot more,” grinding the tip at her wetness, giving special attention to her swollen clit.

“Hobie… I just came,” she glanced nervously at his size, it was a good guess of 6-7 inches with a bit of a wide veiny girth.

“Better then, I’ll take care of you darling. Don’t worry, you’ll be wanting it more soon,” Hobie slowly pressed on his hips, the tip slowly making its way inside her folds.

As he leisurely pressed it inside, she could feel him stretching her out. Her walls adjusting to his size, but surprisingly she only felt a scale of 5/10 pain.

“You okay, my love?” Hobie asks, each of his hands holding her hands down. Kissing her cheek and neck to reassure her.

“Mhm, just keep going. Is it even fully in yet?” She groaned.

“Not even close, but fuck I’m only half way through- the tip’s kissing your cervix already.” He laughs a bit, then groaned at she kept gripping around him.

The pain started to retreat, and all she could feel how full she was of him, and he was right- she could feel his hard tip pressing on the entrance of her cervix.

“Hobie, move. Please.” She begged, looking at his pained expression.

“Mmm, love. You’re still adjusting,” Hobie groaned, hearing her say those words almost made him pound into her to oblivion.

“Please Hobs, start fucking me. I won’t say it again.” She says sternly, something inside her grew excited. Her nervousness soon started to diminish and was replaced with yearning.

He looked down on her, wringing her wrists together above her head and slinging his web- bounding them together.

“As you wish.”

He placed one of his hands under her ass, pulling her up a bit and started to pull his length out before plunging it back in her.

Y/n’s bound hands immediately placed themselves at the back of his neck. It was a slow pounding but she was hitting it too deep, the tip pounding her cervix at every thrust.

The squelching noise that both of their sexes made overwhelmed their senses, their animalistic groans filled the room. Both couldn’t care less if their neighbors could hear them fucking away.

Their sweats began to mix, everything what they’re doing made them intertwine with one another. Y/n’s wetness was already covering Hobie’s cock, pummeling her has gotten easier and more of his length disappeared in her.

“Shit, mas, Your pussy’s swallowing me. I can’t stop.” Hobie gritted his teeth, being inside her made him addicted.

She felt that familiar urge again, but it was stronger. Hobie’s merciless pummeling edged her closer.

“Hobs,” she whimpered.

“I know, I know love. Cum all over me, make a mess.” He connected his lips to hers, muffling her loud moans as she let herself succumbed to his commands. Her whole body bucked and quiver against his.

Hobie hissed, sensed he was nearing to his end. But he wanted to finish feeling all of her crumbling first, then pulled out. Just barely, spurs of his hot cum landed on her stomach.

It took them a moment, giving them both time to come back to the real world.

Hobie plopped himself on top of her, she didn’t mind the weight. It was rather comforting, feeling him against her.

Hobie placed himself beside her on the bed, pulling her in- not caring they were both buck naked. Ripping off the web on her knotted hands.

She snuggled closer to him, knowing there was no turning back after what they’ve done.

“I know I’ve said I don’t believe in labels and consistency but, I’d prefer to make an exception for you, my love. Only you. I want this to be real for us,” Hobie broke the silence, playing with the strands of her hair and caressing her back.

“You better keep your word, Hobs. I have liked you for quite some time now.” Y/n started to trace her fingers on his chest, savoring each moment they have.

“I think we’ve gone way past using “like” love, doesn’t really match the way you’ve been needing me earlier.” He teases, groping an ass cheek.

[metalhoops]

The place was Chicago. The year was 1990. 

It was early enough into the year that the term ‘1990′ still sounded space aged. It’d been the 80s for as long as Eddie cared to remember. It was late enough in the year that everyone kept telling him winter was over. Nevertheless, he wore the leather jacket he’d ‘borrowed’ from his ex-boyfriend. Spring in Chicago was worse than a million L.A. winters. 

Eddie hated California on principle, but his record label was in Burbank. Despite the band being one of the biggest rising stars in the metal scene, he didn’t have room to get cocky. He’d spent the break between tours last year with his aforementioned ex-boyfriend in his New York apartment. 

The place had been small enough that smoking with the windows open felt like a hotbox session. There was one window in the apartment. It was in the bathroom and only opened an inch if you could get it to open at all. It wasn’t the rockstar life he’d fantasised about back in high school, but he was getting by. 

So how the hell did he end up in Chicago? He was getting there. 

As the filmmaker he’d slept with in Toronto had told him, opening in media res was the best way to hold an audience's attention. Was that what Eddie was doing? Trying to retell the shitshow of his life back to himself? Trying to make sense of it all, make it climax to something meaningful? Maybe. 

Eddie had gotten into the habit of keeping a journal, mostly for lyrics. The band was meant to be recording their third full-length studio album in a matter of months and Eddie only had three songs that were worth anything. To make matters worse, the other two had been concept albums. 

Corroded Coffin’s first and sophomore albums had been different enough that the band hadn’t been boxed into anything. Yes, they were a metal band, but they got their fair share of punks, goths and even a handful of yuppies that’d shown up to their gigs in the past. Hell, their opening act had been a grunge band. It sounded pretentious as fuck, but Eddie wasn’t afraid to transcend genres. The metal scene was changing. They had to learn to change with it.

The nail in his goddamn Corroded Coffin was that the band were known for their concept albums. Their first album Knightmare was a D&D-inspired thrash, metal album. Think Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow, with a few more homoerotic undertones. Their next album, Dream Dimension was more sci-fi leaning. It told the story of an unnamed group of kids who’d stumbled into another dimension. It was a little more glam metal. Some of the B-sides like ‘My Year’ and ‘Lakeside Interlude’ had been downright shoegaze. One magazine had likened the story to Dream Warriors, which Eddie thought was fitting. 

It wasn’t like Eddie didn’t have ideas for the next album. That was the problem. Eddie did have an idea. He just couldn’t write the damn thing. It was meant to be his magnum opus, the third album that’d stand on its own but also interconnect with the other two. 

He’d call it Daydream. It followed the story of a white-collar guy living the perfect nuclear family life, complete with a white picket fence and a Malibu Barbie, dream house. The thing was, the dude was miserable. He’d spend all his free time daydreaming about adventure and forgotten realms. 

The kicker was halfway through the album the listener would realise the guy was the titular knight from Knightmare. His perfect suburban life was turned upside down when his kid disappeared à la portal to another dimension. It’d be perfect. All Eddie had to do is write it, and that was the damn thing. He couldn’t.  

All his albums were about something. There was always a meaning beneath the meaning. Knightmare? Easy, that was about escapism. Dream Dimension? It was about growing up too fast. Daydream? That was more complicated. 

Daydream was why Eddie needed to write in his journal. It was why he needed to remember that the year was 1990 and that he was in Chicago. 

The thing was, Eddie didn’t remember writing Dream Dimension. There was a 1988 sized hole in his memory between their first and second US tours. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew exactly what caused it. In their early days, they were practically paid in 8 Balls and party favours. Eddie always had an addictive personality and getting into anything stronger than weed had been a bad idea.

It wasn’t until his bandmates had an intervention that he’d been able to see the forest through the trees. Realising there was a whole chunk of his life he’d missed out on was petrifying. So, Eddie kept a journal. 

He’d been sober for almost a year. He was practically fucking straight-edge without all the pretentiousness that came with it, but he knew one slip-up was enough to send him spiralling. That was how he ended up in Chicago.

It was the last show of their Dream Dimension tour, and they were in Chicago. Eddie was always lively on stage. Gareth had abandoned one of his drumsticks during a solo only for Eddie to run across the stage, slip and bite the dust with his ankle going one way and the rest of him going another. 

He’d woken up in a hospital with a lump on his ankle the size of a baseball and the uncomfortably familiar feeling of being high off his face on painkillers. 

To answer the question, Daydream was about getting older. It was about being okay with getting older. It was about doing it your own way. Back in the thick of it all, it’d looked like Eddie wasn’t going to make it to thirty. He was trying to be okay with the idea that he might. 

Last year, Jeff got married to a nice girl who’d been their costume designer for their first music video. It’d shaken him in a way he didn’t know how to explain. He was in his mid-twenties, yet suddenly he felt old. Wayne had retired and with Eddie’s help brought a Winnebago. He was probably fishing in Nebraska right now. 

See, the thing about the titular character in Daydream, was that he’d conformed to what life was supposed to be. By the end of the album, he’d have left that life behind for another, one of action and adventure, because Eddie could never understand why Dorothy wanted to leave Oz for fucking Kansas. Fuck Kansas, on principal.

Something about the album wasn’t clicking. Knightmare was leaving his boring life but ultimately, he was alone. Was that what getting older was all about? Being okay with being alone? When you were gay in 1990, it might be. 

After the tour ended he hadn’t wanted to go back to his apartment in Burbank. He hated it there. He’d entertained the idea of heading back to New York but it was depressing. It reminded him of Jack, and how so many of their friends weren’t around anymore. 

When all was said and done, he and Gareth decided to stay in Chicago. He never said it out loud, but Eddie was sure his friend had stuck around to keep an eye on him. 

Sometimes, Eddie just wanted someone to come home to. Maybe that was why he’d had a string of shit boyfriends. If you weren’t picky, people would walk all over you. 

Jack had been the one that’d made Eddie swear off dating. It wasn’t worth the trouble. He’d rather die alone. His name wasn’t even Jack, it was Corey, but everyone called him Jack. Short for Jacket. Eddie wished he was joking. That should’ve been the first red flag. 

The thing about Corey was he always wore the same goddamn custom-made, leather jacket, all year round. He’d liked having sex in front of his full-length mirror with Eddie always on his knees, which should’ve been at least a yellow flag. He never liked anything gentle. Corey liked the idea of having a rockstar boyfriend more than he actually liked Eddie or monogamy. That was why when Eddie left, he took his jacket. 

He didn’t know why he was still wearing it, but he was. He pulled it on as he hobbled in his moon boot across the street from his and Gareth’s rented apartment to the record store. He hadn’t gone outside in a week, and he was about to start climbing up the goddamn walls. He just needed to go somewhere, and Eddie loved record stores, especially little indie ones. 

Once inside, Eddie noticed the place was practically empty save for the guy behind the counter. They had an eclectic mix of records and zines lining the shelves. Eddie was glad the place was quiet. He didn’t have to worry about being spotted. It wasn’t like they were The Beatles. They could go places but in a big enough crowd, he was sure to turn a few heads. Some days, Eddie just wanted to disappear. 

They had Corroded Coffin records on the display shelf and a couple of magazines with his band's name on the cover, which made pride swell in Eddie’s chest, but he wasn’t here for stroking his ego. He wanted to know what other people were doing and get back in touch with the scene. 

He was busy sifting through the bargain bin when he felt someone slide in beside him. He cringed, almost expecting it to be some over-enthused metal head with a pen and a Corroded Coffin tee shirt, but it was just the dude behind the counter.  

“Sorry, can I squeeze past?” the guy mumbled, a crate of records awkwardly tucked beneath his shoulder.

Eddie did his best to make himself small, his dumbass ankle making a simple task seem like an effort. He didn’t miss the way the man’s free hand brushed over his side as he passed, as though trying to assure Eddie stayed stable. 

“Place sure is quiet,” Eddie observed glancing over at the man.

His jeans were fitted, tight in all the right places. He’d rolled up the cuffs of his shirt to reveal more of his bicep than Eddie deemed necessary and god his hair. There was something about his hair. Something about him seemed familiar. Eddie really hoped they hadn’t hooked up once. That’d be awkward as hell. 

“Yeah, we usually close around five,” The man replied putting an album on the shelf. 

It was almost six. Shit. 

Eddie hated when people did that. They treated him differently because his name was in the papers. Everyone wanted something from him, and they thought doing favours was a good way to win him over. It wasn’t. The guy could clearly see something shift in Eddie. 

“It’s no big deal. I have to stay an hour late to replace the stock, plus my roommate has a girl over, so I’d rather be here,” The boy laughed, shooting a look at Eddie over his shoulder, a stray strand of his perfect goddamn hair falling in his face. 

The boy paused, teeth worrying away at his lower lip, his hand falling to his hip as his eyes searched Eddie's face. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” He asked. 

And there it was. Sometimes people did that. They played dumb about who he was before making a big goddamn deal out of it. Eddie suddenly wanted to crawl back to his apartment and spend another month in isolation. 

The boy snapped his fingers in triumph.

“Munson,” He practically shouted and holy fucking shit, that wasn’t what Eddie expected. 

No one knew his last name, not his real one. Everyone changed their names when they got famous. He’d gone for something simple, Eddie Emerson, it had some alliteration, just like Corroded Coffin. It wasn’t too far from his real name but not even the die-hards knew him as Munson. 

Then Eddie remembered. 

This guy was Steve goddamn Harrington. He didn’t remember many people from high school, but he remembered Steve. 

“Harrington,” Eddie breathed in disbelief. To his surprise, Steve screwed up his nose. 

“Unfortunately,” He admitted and stuck out a hand expectantly. Eddie leaned down and clasped Steve’s hand. From what he remembered of Steve, the guy had never been this friendly. 

“Nice to re-meet you I guess. I’d like to think I’ve changed a little in over five years.” He had, Eddie didn’t know how to explain how he knew, he just did. It was something about the way the boy held himself. 

“What brings you to Chicago?” He asked, seemingly oblivious to the fact that one of Eddie’s records was sitting on the shelf beside him. Honestly, it was a breath of fresh air to find someone who didn’t know who he was. He could keep the charade up a little bit longer. 

“Oh you know, work stuff,” Eddie answered vaguely, toying with his hair. 

That was something he did when he was flirting and holy shit, he needed to squash that right goddamn now. He wasn’t looking to date anybody, and he remembered Steve being very straight in high school. He needed to save himself from another heartbreak. 

“You live in Chicago now?” Eddie asked. The‘ because you didn’t seem like the type to ever leave’ was implied. 

“Yeah. Rob, my roommate, she practically dragged me here. We’ve been attached at the hip since I graduated. It wasn’t like there was anywhere else I wanted to be,” Steve answered. 

A little detail about the statement screamed for Eddie’s attention. 

“The same roommate that has a girl over?” He pressed and watch Steve fold his arms over his chest, all huffy indignation locked and loaded, begging for Eddie to choose his next words wisely. 

“The same,” he confirmed. Now that Eddie knew, he noticed they were selling a couple of queer zines. It didn’t necessarily mean anything. Steve might just be progressive. 

“I thought you were meant to be the lady's man, Steve,” Eddie tried hoping that was enough to make Steve’s defences fall. To his surprise, Steve snorted and shook his head. 

“Like I said, lots changed since high school. My luck in the dating department couldn’t be worse,” he admitted as he returned to stacking the shelves. 

Eddie watched the planes of his back move beneath his shirt, wanting to push himself against him, to feel what it was like for Steve to move beneath him.

He really needed to get a hold of himself. 

“Couldn’t be worse than my luck,” Eddie rebutted offhandedly. 

Steve shook his head and shot Eddie another glance over his shoulder. He inhaled deeply as though preparing to tell a long story. Eddie leaned against the shelf to show Steve he was all ears. 

“Last month, I went on a date with a girl and she asked me if she could call me by her ex-boyfriend’s name,” Steve began. 

Eddie screwed up his nose in response. 

“Worse still, I was so shocked she’d asked, I just agreed to it.” It was Eddie’s turn to snort. 

“Stevie, you didn’t.” 

Stevie. Goddamn Stevie. Don’t do this to yourself, Munson. Pet names are one step away from a full-blown crush. 

“I did. Do I look like a ‘Juan’ to you?” Steve asked honestly. The question had Eddie doubled over in stitches. 

“Alright, alright. That’s pretty bad, but that’s one bad date,” Eddie reasoned. 

“Dude, I wasn’t finished. The girl before that realised she was a lesbian, while on a date with me. Which is like... the third time that’s happened,” Steve admitted.

Eddie’s hand had betrayed him and returned to toy with a strand of his hair. He hid behind it as he tried to mask a laugh. This guy did have shit luck. 

“You’re a lesbian magnet,” Eddie reasoned watching as Steve hid behind his hands. 

“And the time before that, I thought I was getting somewhere with a guy. We’d been on three dates before he told me he had a wife.” 

Steve made the next confession a little quieter than the others, a little more reserved. Eddie felt the hairs on his arm stand on end. Steve had changed since high school.

“Once I hooked up with a guy who’d only give me head if I sang to him while he did it,” Eddie admitted, feeling the need to get Steve off the defensive and add to the pity party. He watched the boy’s features shift.

“Oh wow, that’s bad. You should’ve pretended to be tone-deaf,” Steve reasoned, once more proving he had no idea what Eddie did for a living. 

“See I was torn between that and singing La Cucaracha at the top of my lungs.” Steve snorted, honest to god snorted.  

The two lapsed into silence but it was a comfortable one. Steve smoothed down his hair five times within the space of a minute before taking a deep breath. 

Eddie knew what was coming. He wasn’t dumb, but a part of him would always be trapped back in high school. It kept screaming there was no way a popular kid like Steve would talk to a loser like him. He thought he’d buried that part of himself, yet here it was, rising from the dead. 

“Do you want to get a drink?” 

And there it was. Eddie didn’t mean to cringe, but Steve caught it, his hands stuffed themselves into the too-tight back pockets of his jeans. 

“Or not,” He muttered averting his gaze. 

“No. It’s not that. I... I don’t drink.” 

There you go Gareth. He was responsible enough to look after himself. 

“I could do dinner though,” Eddie tried to throw Steve a bone. 

Eddie waited for Steve to throw up one of the red flags he’d gotten used to seeing with all the men he’d dated or hooked up with. Eddie would say he didn’t drink, and they’d give him a funny look or mutter something about him being a killjoy. 

“There’s a place that does a wicked deep-dish pizza not far from here. You said you weren’t from Chicago, right? You’ve gotta have the pizza, it’s a rite of passage,” Steve ploughed on.

“Sure,” He muttered trying not to look as surprised as he felt. 

He watched Steve buzz around the record store, shutting up shop and then extending a hand shyly to Eddie. Right, his stupid goddamn leg. At least it gave him an excuse to get up close and personal with Steve in the street and not draw too much attention. 

The two made the short walk to the pizzeria at a plodding pace, talking about nothing in particular. 

“What happened to your leg?” Steve asked as they slid into the booth. 

“Slid on a drumstick and took a nosedive off a stage,” Eddie admitted. He wasn’t going to outright lie to Steve. 

“Ouch,” Steve mumbled, passing the menu over to Eddie. 

“So, you still do band stuff? I remember that high school talent show,” Steve noted, and Eddie cringed, letting his head drop to the table. 

“I really wish you didn’t,” He chuckled before confirming,

“Yeah, I still do band stuff,” as he raised his head and chanced a glance at Steve. 

“Cool,” was all he said before they shifted the subject. 

They were swapping stories about best friends, roommates, shared high-school trauma and generally flirting when a figure approached their booth. It was a kid, who couldn’t be older than fifteen with a shaved head and a battle jacket. He reminded Eddie of himself at that age. He knew what was coming.

“You’re Eddie Emerson, right? From Corroded Coffin,” the kid asked, his hands shaking. He watched as a furrow appeared on Steve’s brow before his jaw dropped. So Steve wasn’t totally clueless. 

“One and only. You want me to sign something for you?” Eddie asked, having gone through this song and dance a million times before. He tried to be nice, after all, it was a kid, but sometimes he got tired of always having to be on. 

To make matters worse it happened in front of Steve. Something about people coming up to him always sat wrong with other guys he’d been with. He wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or ego that did it, but he knew if he ran into a fan on a date, the rest of the night typically went sideways. 

He signed the back of a napkin as he listened to the kid rattle off praise for their music. He talked about his favourite songs and lyrics. Eddie wished he knew what to say, wished he knew how to take a compliment but he didn’t. To his surprise, he heard Steve speak. 

“Hey, did you make this?” Steve asked indicating the kid's battle jacket, forcing him to come up for air.

“Yeah, all on my own.”

The kid blinked and ran his hand over a couple of the hand-sewn patches. Steve obviously knew nothing about the scene because if you didn’t make your own jacket people would call you a poser. It was a nice shout though because he watched the kid light up. 

“Even the safety pins?” Steve asked curiously.

Eddie watched as the kid launched into a story of every little pin and stitch in the jacket, turning his attention away from Eddie, and giving him space to catch his breath. It was nice. He felt like Steve had seen him.

After another few minutes, the kid’s dad came to collect him and Eddie felt his body sag against the diner booth. 

“You get that all the time?” Steve asked, his foot nudging Eddie’s under the table. 

“You wouldn’t believe it,” He grumbled scrubbing his face. Steve nudged his foot again, giving him a goofy grin. 

“At least he liked your stuff,” He proposed. 

“I’m guessing it’s not your thing,” Eddie reasoned. He wasn’t one for stereotypes, but he really didn’t look like the typical Corroded Coffin fan. 

“I’m not too picky when it comes to music. I just listen to top forty stuff.” Eddie shot him a disbelieving look.  

“Dude you work in a record store,” he laughed and Steve shrugged.

“Among other things. I just got the job to hang out with Robin. She works there too. She only took the job to try and peddle her girlfriend Nancy’s zines. Sometimes I write the sports section because Nancy, Robin and Jonathan don’t know anything about sports.” Eddie rested his head in the palm of his hand, listening attentively. 

“Wait, is that the same Nancy that you dated back in high school?” He asked, trying to sound scandalised, glad to have a break from the rock star bullshit. 

“Like you said, lesbian magnet,” Steve grumbled, mirroring Eddie’s gesture, resting his head in his hand. 

“What are you actually doing in town?” Steve asked, more curious than nosy. 

“Trying to run away from writing our third album,” Eddie spoke. 

It’d been the first time he admitted it out loud. He didn’t talk about his music until he thought it was worth something, but Steve was a good listener. To Eddie’s surprise, he found himself spilling his guts to Steve. He told him all about the third album, about the goddamn symbolism, and the way things just weren’t clicking. 

“Why don’t you give him a reason to stay?” Steve asked when Eddie finished his monologue, as though it was the simplest solution in the world. 

“I mean, Dorothy doesn’t go back to Kansas because she doesn’t like Oz, she misses home. She misses her family. You want your knight guy to stay in fantasy land? Give him someone to stay for,” Steve proposed, and it was like the final puzzle piece sliding into place. It was brilliant.

“Stevie, I could kiss you,” Eddie spoke.

“Is that a promise?” Steve asked with a cheeky grin.

“Let’s get out of here and find out.”

[avidboafan]

RED THOUGHTS : “GET HIGH IN THE MOONLIGHT”

idol : stoner!han jisung x reader

content : smut | weed usage | oral | fingering | penetration | unsafe sex

summary : your best friend, jisung, offers to take you for a good time. after a while, you can’t resist saying no, but he wants something back in return.

notes : just getting this out here. requests are open! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language (;^_^A) all comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

minors do not interact! 18+ content! nsfw!

a thick grey cloud hung over your head as you watched your best friend, jisung, took a drag of his neatly rolled blunt between his rosy, glossy lips. you watched him worriedly, all those lectures in high school and middle school about how bad drug addictions were playing back in your mind. the head of the blunt burnt orange as he slowly inhaled the foul smelling fumes, exhaling it through his nose and tapping off the blackened ashes of the drug and paper.

“jisung, i think that’s enough, your eyes are turning red,” you lectured with a stern voice, pushing away the hand that held the blunt between his ringed fingers. “it’s supposed to be like that, hot stuff.” jisung chuckled, amused, excess smoke huffing out of his mouth. “you would know if you tried, but you keep turning me down.” he playfully pouted. “cause it’s bad for your health,” you argued back, rolling your eyes.

“suit yourself,” jisung said in a sing-song voice, giving a frisky smirk.

to be honest, you’ve always wanted to try smoking a blunt out, at least once. just to see how it feels like. jisung describes it as entering another dimension, or whatever bullshit he pulls out from his ass. he usually smokes it to get inspiration for his lyrics. and you’ve definitely been needing inspiration lately, ever since your fashion major finals have been leering its ugly head around the corner.

you linger around jisung for a few more moments, thinking through the pros and cons over and over again. maybe once wouldn’t be that bad? it was only one time. just for inspiration for your finals’ designs. that’s it. “maybe i’ll try it. just once.” you hesitate, crossing your arms as jisung’s eyes lit up.

“really? are you for real?” jisung exclaimed doubtfully. you looked at his bloodshot eyes for a moment, twinkling with hope in the dim lighting and reluctantly nodded your head. “i’ll make you a new blunt right now!” jisung smiled, stumbling out of the couch and sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, rolling up the blunt of his weed board and licking the ends, sealing it. he eagerly handed it to you as he drew in more smoke from his own blunt.

“why do you look so eager?” you cock a brow, fingers hesitating as you took it from his fingers. “it’s my first time seeing you get high,” he chuckled and you just couldn’t help the backflips that your stomach did as you heard his voice and his laugh.

“place it in your mouth, i’ll light it for you,” jisung smiled, watching as you placed the blunt in between your plump lips. jisung sat up on the couch again, the cushions dipping as he placed his weight on it, and leaned nearer to you, making the tips of both of the blunts touching each other as he inhaled, burning the weed inside and yours as well.

the tension was thick as you silent dragged on it, feeling the warmth inside of your mouth. after a couple drags, your mind slowly starts getting fuzzy and your eyes bleary. “so?” jisung asked. you stayed quiet, a little out of your headspace.

do you enjoy it?” you nod your head briefly. “glad to know. cause that blunt costed me a pretty penny,” jisung replied, pointing at the blunt as it slowly burned away into a bud. “and you could always thank your best friend for hooking you up with it,” jisung smirked cheekily, indicating some sort of hidden motive.

“what do you want, jisung?” you huffed, noticing the knowing look in his eyes.

jisung paused for a moment, his rationality and fear of rejection slowly coming back before he pushed it away, “i want you.”

—————————

your cheeks heated up immediately as he pushed you down on his unmade bed, lowering his body down, his head straying near your crotch as he unzipped your jeans, pulling down your panties and jeans in one go. your head was so hazy, you didn’t give much of a fight when he spread your legs apart.

“god, your pussy is so fucking cute,” he whined, his eyes staring at your pussy as he prodded at it, spreading it apart. shit. he couldn’t wait to taste your cute fucking cunt.

he delve in, eating you out like a starved madman, licking, kissing, sucking on your clit and hole like you’re the last thing he’ll ever eating. your hand immediately went to hold his permed hair in a futile attempt to stop his from drowning your cunt in his saliva.

his tongue was sticking inside your pussy, almost as if he was trying to make out with your cervix. you could feel the warm and wet muscle contracting and moving around inside your walls, trying to literally taste every inch of you. he then moved on to stimulate your clit, suckling on it as he stuck a finger into your craving, needy hole.

the noises filling the room was almost sickening to listen to as you moaned lewdly. all that was filling your sense was the smell of weed in the air, the sounds of you losing your mind and your squelching cunt, along with jisung’s heavy panting and moans vibrating your already sensitive pussy, and the feeling of pure torture was you felt your clit being abused and treated like a pacifier as your hole drips with jisung’s spit and your arousal as his finger curved into your g-spot, the coldness of his ring adding much more stimulation.

you wanted to cum so badly. but you just couldn’t. the knot in your stomach was tight, but not tight enough to snap and release what you needed. jisung was adamant on helping you reach that high, but it just wasn’t enough. what was missing?

“your dick,” you mumbled out in pleas, pulling on his hair tightly. “please, please, please cum in me, sungie,” you pleaded, feeling your head growing even more fuzzy and lightheaded.

his bloodshot eyes looked at you as he lifted his head, “so greedy,” he comments, as he lifts himself up and pulls you closer to his bulge by your legs. he pulls down his sweats and frees his cock the tight tent in his boxers, quickly shoving it inside your sloppy little cunt before you manage to compose yourself and lose your high.

it fits snugly in your little hole, the arousal coating your walls inviting him in welcomingly. his thumbs circles your clit as he feels himself losing his control as well, quickening his pace as he feels himself growing more and more tired, just wanting an orgasm to hurry and release itself from the both of you. he never felt this needy before. but seeing the way you were so relaxed and calm, uncharacteristic from your usual uptight and moral personality seemed to snap something in him. he wants you to be this relaxed whenever you’re with him. he doesn’t want to be someone that annoys you, he wants to please you. make you happy.

that one final push makes you squirt all around him, your clit throbbing against his thumb as you uncontrollably squirm and squeeze tightly against his cock, turning him even more on. after soaking his dick and torso with your arousal, he pulls his dick from your cunt and pumps it with his fist, whimpering and whining as he cums all over your cunt, watching the spit, arousal and his cum mixing together in a nasty mixture, dripping over your lips.

“we need to get high together more sometimes,” jisung remarks, as he tiredly plops himself right next to you on his bed, panting and gaining his breath. “you were amazing, jisung.” you complimented. “don’t think i’ve ever felt like this with any other guy.” jisung gave your cheek a quick peck, seeing his chance to finally confess.

“maybe.. i’m the right guy?” he points at himself in a teasing manner, but the look in his eyes didn’t feel like he was joking around.

[burntsecrets]

✨Special✨ Brownies

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader

Word Count: 1031

Summary: You and Eddie make brownies in his trailer. His are ✨special✨, though.

Warnings: drug use (weed), mild language, suggestive humor

The scent of chocolate wafts through Eddie’s trailer, mingling with the sharp tang of whatever “special ingredient” he’s carefully adding to his batch. Black Sabbath plays low in the background, the dark riffs blending with the clink of mixing bowls and spoons. Eddie hums along as you crack another egg into your own bowl, careful to keep your brownies distinctly separate from his. You know some of the Hellfire guys don’t appreciate his idea of "extra flavor."

“You sure you don’t wanna make yours a little more exciting?” Eddie teases, glancing over with a grin that’s more mischievous than anything. He’s leaning against the counter, his wild curls brushing his shoulders, dark eyes catching the dim light of the trailer's kitchen. There’s flour on his shirt—on purpose, probably—and his rings clink as he stirs his batter one more time.

“Pretty sure,” you say, smirking as you swirl the melted chocolate into your mix. “Not everyone’s a fan of those brownies.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, mock offended. “Their loss. I make a killer brownie.”

“Yeah, if you want to spend the rest of the night on a different plane of existence,” you quip, shaking your head. The batter in front of you is thick, smooth, and sweet—a stark contrast to the chaos brewing on his side of the counter.

He steps closer, his shoulder bumping yours playfully. “Well, maybe some people need to lighten up a little, huh?” His voice is low, teasing, the music pulsing underneath his words as the bass kicks in.

You laugh, nudging him back. “Maybe. But I think I’ll stick to plain old brownies. Besides, someone’s gotta make sure Mike and Dustin don’t accidentally eat yours and spend the rest of the session in another dimension.”

Eddie chuckles, the sound deep and warm, vibrating through the tiny kitchen. “Good point. But seriously, these guys need to learn to live a little.” He winks, then grabs a spoon and dips it into your batter. “Let me taste.”

“Hey!” You slap his hand away, but he’s already licked the spoon, grinning like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. His lips curl in satisfaction.

“Mmm. Perfect. Too bad it’s not as fun as mine.”

You roll your eyes, turning to pour the batter into the pan. The rich, sweet smell of chocolate mixes with the unmistakable earthy scent of Eddie’s “special” ingredient, now fully blended into his brownie batter. You can’t help but laugh as he slides his pan into the oven next to yours, a smug look on his face. He wipes his hands on a towel, tossing it over his shoulder with a flourish before cranking the volume on his stereo. The unmistakable opening riffs of Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid” fill the trailer, vibrating the walls.

“Come on,” Eddie says, pulling you by the wrist before you can protest. “We’ve got time to kill.”

You laugh, letting him spin you into the middle of the living room, where the cramped space suddenly feels alive with energy. His wild curls bounce as he throws his head back, mouthing the lyrics, eyes alight with that infectious, carefree joy. The beat pulses through you, and you can’t help but sway, grinning as Eddie belts out the chorus in his raspy, off-key voice.

“Iron Man's up next,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, taking a step closer as he plays an imaginary guitar. His fingers move expertly through the air, his body swaying in exaggerated motions like he's onstage at some packed arena instead of his tiny trailer. You can’t stop laughing, the tension of the day melting away as the music takes over.

When the next song kicks in, Eddie grabs your hands and twirls you around. You stumble over your feet, but he doesn’t let go, guiding you into a makeshift dance that’s half headbanging, half an uncoordinated waltz. You’re both breathless, laughing too hard to keep up with the tempo. The oven’s warmth fills the room, mingling with the growing haze of smoke from Eddie’s earlier indulgence, but the brownies are still safe—for now.

“Come on, sing with me!” Eddie shouts over the music, his voice cracking with enthusiasm. He pulls you closer, his grip firm but playful, and suddenly, you’re both shouting the lyrics, offbeat and too loud for the tiny space but perfect for the moment.

The chorus of “Iron Man” echoes through the trailer, and Eddie’s laughter is contagious as he spins you again, this time pulling you into a dramatic dip. The world tilts, and you grip his shoulder, your eyes meeting his for a brief, breathless second. There’s something so simple, so easy about this—about him. He grins, and for a moment, you forget everything outside of this trailer.

As the last chords ring out, Eddie lets you stand up straight, his hands still resting lightly on your waist. Both of you are out of breath, flushed from dancing, and the oven timer dings behind you.

“Looks like the brownies are ready,” you say, stepping back to catch your breath.

Eddie’s smile widens as he wipes the sweat from his brow, looking at you with a glint in his eye. “Perfect timing. Though I have to say…” He pulls the oven mitts off the counter and holds them up. “The dancing wasn’t bad either.”

“Not bad?” you mock, raising an eyebrow. “I carried that whole performance.”

He smirks, handing you the mitts. “Guess we’ll have to see if your brownies can hold up to mine, then.”

“Think they’ll appreciate your culinary skills?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder. 

With the music still playing softly in the background, you open the oven door and pull out both pans, the warm, rich smell of chocolate filling the trailer.

“Oh, they’ll love ‘em,” Eddie says, flashing that wicked smile again. “But not as much as I will.” His eyes meet yours, playful and intent, and for a second, the air between you feels thick, charged like the electric hum of the amplifier he constantly fiddles with.

You smirk, tossing a towel at him. “Better hope they don’t figure out which batch is which.”

He catches the towel and drapes it over his shoulder. “That’s half the fun.”

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 12

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader Summary: An unexpected temporary change. Word Count: 24,291 Warnings: A building catches fire; someone falls; mention of injury Masterlist Music Inspo (You can find the official Spotify playlist for the fanfic here ! It includes all the music I've listened to throughout the chapters for writing, including music for the one-shots, and some songs I decided not to include originally in the chapter posts. This was due to the romantic context they have and we're not at that point yet, but I was using them more for vibes if that makes sense? The lyrics are not relevant, not yet anyway.🤭) "Spider-Man" - John Paesano "Moving Forward" - John Paesano "Blue Moon" - Billie Holiday "Nonviolent Communication" - Metro Boomin, James Blake, 21 Savage, A$AP Rocky "Another Dimension" - Pop Money

Part 12

You sleep peacefully under warm covers in your once shared bedroom. Your arms are wrapped around a pillow, the one that used to belong to Peter. You once slept in a different position but ever since his death, your sleeping position changed. You began to hug his pillow at night, pretending that it was him because his scent was on it. Those days led to years and now, hugging a pillow is the only way you can sleep, even if the pillow has long ago lost the scent of its owner. Your head rests on the pillow, like how it used to rest on Peter’s chest at night when you laid in bed and talked about anything and everything in the comfort of your small apartment.

It’s how you lay now on the same bed you’ve had for years. You’re resting, peacefully and calmly. Sleep has a strong hold on you as you dream - of Peter. You sit in your living room and watch as he browses through your bookshelf, the old one. Your eyes scan it, noticing it’s in great condition. If anything it looks like it did when Peter was alive, almost brand new. He mutters quietly to himself as he searches, his fingers tracing the books’ spines, searching for a specific title.

“Found it,” Peter says before he turns around to face you, showing you the book by holding it up.

You smile at him from the couch as you catch his playful grin before he approaches you, and takes a seat next to you.

“We haven’t read this one in a while. I think it’s time. It’s winter after all,” he says as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you into his warmth.

“It is winter,” you confirm as you lean into his touch, into his body. You sigh softly, taking in his scent. You close your eyes for a few seconds, relishing it. It’s been so long but you know it so well - as if it were your own scent. It brings you so much comfort and peace, it reminds you that there’s another scent that incites those same feelings now. Miguel’s.

You open your eyes as Peter begins to read. His voice is gentle and warm, and his arm is still wrapped around you. You look at him and smile before looking around the apartment. You hear Peter but your mind still registers the mixture of the old and new decorations in the apartment. There’s the old bookshelf you had but the photographs on the wall are different. It’s small things like that. You turn away and snuggle closer to Peter, having to stop yourself from almost murmuring his name tenderly in response to the feel of his body, his warmth, his scent. Peter is really here with you. You’re together. Again.

You feel Peter’s arm gently tighten around your shoulders, caressing your arm in an affectionate way as he reads. You feel at peace sitting with him in your apartment.

“Wake up,” Peter says gently.

You sit still, listening to him read and letting the sound of his voice surround you, believing that his previous statement is part of the story.

“Wake up, love,” Peter says, forcing you to face him. His tone is still gentle but there’s an edge to it that wasn’t there before. “Please wake up.”

“What-Peter?” you ask softly, confused.

“Please wake up, love. You need to wake up.”

You look around, noting the urgency in Peter’s tone. “Peter, what’s happening?”

“I love you,” he whispers, leaning closer and pressing his forehead to yours. “Everything will be okay, darling.”

“Peter!”

You sit up in bed, gasping Peter’s name. You look around your bedroom, breathing rapidly. You swear you can still feel his warmth but it’s fading quickly.

“Peter,” you whisper in the darkness as you realize it was just a dream. You sigh heavily, trying to come to your senses. It has been a while since you dreamed about Peter and you can’t help but feel shaken up by the abruptness at the end. It was so sweet, like how it used to be when Peter was alive. Even in the darkness, you long to be back in your dream, if only to feel like that again - to feel and smell Peter, to hear his voice.

You rub your eyes gently, yawning and contemplating your dream for a few seconds when your spidey senses go off. You look around quickly, going still to listen intently for sirens - for chaos. You hear nothing. You get out of bed regardless, walking to your radio, the one that alerts you of emergencies. You wait for it, but before any feedback comes from the device, the smell reaches you first.

Smoke.

You sniff again because you believe that you’re mistaken and that the scent must be something else. Yet, smoke is all you can smell.

“Fire?” you whisper to yourself before you rush into your suit.

You change quickly and put your gizmo on before you check your apartment, finding nothing, so you slip out through a window to check what’s going. Your eyes widen when you see it, disbelief and shock hitting you at once when you discover that one of the floors is in flames. Your heart sinks at the sight.

“Wake up.”

You frown as you remember your dream, Peter’s words specifically. It couldn’t be, could it? Did he warn you somehow, or is it just your imagination? You fix your mask, pushing your thoughts away for now, before you launch into action. You quickly move to the main floor on fire, breaking a window and slipping inside. The change of temperature is instant. Outside, it’s cold, being the beginning of winter, but as soon as you’re inside, you feel the heat from the flames. The smell of smoke is stronger now, filling your nose. You call out for someone, eyes searching for civilians as you move through the flames. You hear someone scream, causing you to turn in that direction. You carefully make your way there, knowing you need to hurry before the building is engulfed in flames with the tenants inside.

You find your way and discover a young woman that looks familiar. Your brain tries to identify her but in the heat of the moment, you can’t.

“My friend! She’s inside the bedroom! I think she passed out from the smoke, please get her out!” the woman says, covering her nose from the smoke, with tears rolling down her face.

“I’ll get you out first!” you reply grabbing her arm and pulling her towards you. “Once I get you out, call the police! I don’t think anyone has called yet!” you order her, as you try to hear for sirens but fail to.

You shoot your web, securing her and lowering her down the building until she reaches the ground before you begin to search for the other person. It doesn’t take you long to find the person. A young woman lays on the bedroom’s floor, passed out. You quickly check for a pulse and after finding one, you carry her out of the building, carefully delivering her to her friend on the ground. The first woman notifies you that she has called the police and that they and firefighters should be on their way. You also notice a small crowd of random people have gathered, so you instruct them to stay back and to not enter the premises.

You glance at the building for a few seconds, praying that it doesn’t go up in flames completely. As you swing back to the building’s wall, you thankfully hear sirens in the distance. You slip inside through a window belonging to another apartment, not caring to startle the tenants as your main priority is to get everyone out now. You quickly evacuate the floor mainly affected before you move to the floor above and below. At this point several tenants have heard the commotion, making your job easier in quickly evacuating them. However, you realize not everyone comes out, so you enter apartments, calling out for tenants you’ve seen in passing over the years, and finding some of them scared and shocked by the circumstances, so much that they don’t realize they need to get out. You find other individuals still sleeping and unaware of the situation, and must wake them up. The process is hard for you as you have to ease people’s fright from not only waking up to a masked person, Spider-Woman, in their homes, but also from the news of the fire as the flames grow and spread.

As you safely deliver some people out of the building, you notice the firefighters and police have arrived. The police has secured the premises, keeping the gathered civilians from entering the building while firefighters move quickly to stop the fire. As you lead a civilian to safety, you can hear someone talking over a megaphone, trying to wake up tenants from the floors above, still unaffected.

“Spider-Woman!”

You turn, pausing just as you were about to lunge off the ground. You find a firefighter, realizing it’s the captain. You don’t recognize him, which leads you to believe he’s new.

“I have people working on putting out the fire, and others on evacuating. These people have told me you’ve been evacuating tenants. What about the floor beneath?” the man asks. “I need to know so we’ll know what floors need evacuation.”

You quickly tell him what you’ve covered, easing the man’s worries for the main floors affected now.

“I’ll evacuate the floors below,” you add as you realize the building could collapse and trap those tenants.

“Alright, some of my people are already on it. We’re also trying to wake up the people on the higher floors to start evacuating!” the man says a little louder just as another firetruck pulls up with their sirens on.

“Got it!” you state.

“Be careful!” the captain calls out before he, too, jumps into the scene.

With a nod, you turn towards the building, finding several people now looking out from their windows before disappearing into their apartments from the higher floors, including people from your own. That’s not the only thing you notice however, you also take notice of the flames and how they’re spreading.

“Everything will be okay, darling,” Peter said.

Peter’s words flash in your mind as adrenaline rushes through your body. You lunge back into action and evacuate more tenants from the lower floors. Thankfully this doesn’t take as long now that you have the help of the firefighters, which allows you to focus on the floors above. It’s there that you run into another full family - parents and children. So far you’ve only encounter roommates and spouses but very few families with children. Seeing them, you quickly decide to make a safety net out of your web. You quickly make it, extending it from one lamp post to another one, making sure it’s big enough for adults and that’s it’s secure. After reassuring the tenants that it’s safe, you help the family reach safety out of the building with the assistance of the firefighters. Your safety net turns out to be very helpful as you don’t have to carry out so many people.

You feel confident as you evacuate more people but the smoke becomes unbearable. It’s all you can smell and it makes your eyes tear up, almost making you lose your balance at one point.

“Y/N! Do you need backup?” you hear a voice.

Lyla.

You shake your head, blinking several times before you finally spot Lyla above your gizmo. “No. No need for backup. I got the situation cover.” You start moving again, your steps determine as you lead some tenants towards the end of the hallway. “Don’t tell anyone. Not Miguel. Jess. Peter B.. No one,” you tell her as you carefully lead the tenants out.

All you see is Lyla disappear before you focus on the task at hand. You get the tenants out before running back to search again. You offer help as you enter an apartment. You walk past the kitchen, already in flames. Even with the sound of sirens outside, you hear something spark, catching your attention. Your spidey senses warn you just before it blows up. You instantly cover your face and stumble backwards as flames jump at you.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

Your sweatshirt lays where it always rests - near Miguel. Your comforting scent fills Miguel’s lungs as he sleeps peacefully, no nightmares disturbing his sleep. Yet, he startles awake. His eyes search his dark bedroom immediately before he sits up slowly. He detects nothing, not even a sound from the city outside, but that doesn’t ease the strange sensation in his chest.

“Lyla,” Miguel calls out because he’s certain that something is amiss.

“Miguel,” Lyla says a second later, appearing in midair with a tone that Miguel recognizes all too well.

“What’s happening?” he asks, already out of bed with his suit halfway on.

“She said she didn’t want backup,” Lyla replies, causing Miguel to pause for only a second before he continues to slide on his gizmo.

“Who?” Miguel asks, but his heart already knows the answer. He can feel that this is why he woke up. It has to be.

“Y/N.” Lyla follows Miguel as he rushes out of his bedroom and into the hallway. He jumps from the top of the stairs to the first floor, clicking his gizmo hurriedly. “Her building caught on fire. It doesn’t seem too bad. Only a few floors so far. She has been helping the tenants out of the building while the firefighters are working to stop the fire from spreading. I asked if she wanted backup but she asked me not to,” Lyla explains. “I was going to tell you.”

“Mierda. You should’ve,” Miguel says looking at the portal that he’s opened.

“Miguel, I don’t think she wants help. She’s doing perfectly well on her own, so, just - let her do her thing and then we can check up on her,” Lyla says as she follows Miguel, who in his hurry, rips the portal open with his suit to reach your universe sooner.

“She’s not hurt, is she?” Miguel asks, stepping out onto a nearby rooftop. The sound of sirens immediately fills his ears and of course, there’s the bright light from the fire itself. Miguel’s red eyes scan it, noticing that four floors are in flames and it’s spreading to the fifth. There’s a large crowd of people on the street in their pajamas - a sight that makes Miguel feel empathy. A fire is disastrous enough but even more so when it takes place on such vulnerable moments like one’s sleep.

“She’s not hurt but she seems tired though. She’s been carrying people out and searching the building for tenants non-stop.”

“Ask her if she wants backup again but don’t tell her I’m here,” Miguel says softly yet sternly, respecting your choice of declining backup, even though everything in him is screaming to go and find you.

Lyla disappears with a nod. She appears again thirty seconds later with a frown that makes Miguel frown, too.

“She said no,” Miguel says and Lyla nods. Miguel sighs heavily. “Keep up with her. Alert me if she needs help, please.”

Miguel watches from the rooftop, even after Lyla disappears, as the firefighters run around trying to put down the fire. They scream at each other, giving directions and warnings as they move about. Scanning the scene, Miguel spots a web trap you set up on one side of the building. He finds another one near the fire stairs to help tenants land on it from the higher floors. The large group of people in their pajamas reassures Miguel that you should be done soon - that you’ll be out of danger shortly.

He’s so concerned about your well-being it only now truly hits Miguel that this isn’t a random apartment building but yours. Your apartment. The realization instantly makes him feel sorrow - your beautiful place, the one you redecorated only months ago might be lost, but more importantly, Miguel realizes all your precious belongings might be damaged if not completely burnt to ashes. He specifically thinks about your record player and vinyls, knowing how much they mean to you because of Peter. He wonders, if there’s a slight chance that you took them out already, but Miguel feels certain that you haven’t, and that you’ve focused on safely evacuating the tenants before securing your own belongings.

“Lyla.”

“She still doesn’t want backup. She’s moving through the fifth floor,” Lyla says just as Miguel sees figures from one of the floors - the fifth one - reach the fire stairs. He spots you as you reinforce the web trap before you talk to the tenants, possibly assuring them that it’s safe. The individuals jump off one by one, safely landing on your web trap before they’re assisted by nearby firefighters.

Miguel’s heart beats heavily as you disappear into the building again, immediately hidden by the smoke and flames. “Her belongings. Did she take anything out yet?” Miguel says, forcing himself to speak, trying to push down his worry.

“She hasn’t. She trusts the firefighters will stop the fire before it reaches her floor.”

“What about the tenants on the higher floors? Have then been evacuated?” Miguel asks.

“Yes. They’ve been evacuated but Y/N is making sure everyone is out of the building.”

“How is she doing? How many more people are in there?” Miguel asks as he stands on the edge of the rooftop. He hasn’t even noticed it but he has been extracting and retracting his talons the entire time, anxiously.

“I’ll check.”

Miguel nods, standing alone as he watches the firefighters put out the fire on one side of the building, trying to contain it.

You push doors and enter apartments, quickly but efficiently checking for any civilians that may be in danger. You try to keep your head low to avoid inhaling smoke, which not only makes your eyes water but also makes you want to cough as you breath some of it in. You call out, offering help. There are no voices, yet you still check to make sure no one stays behind. You walk down the hallway, almost losing your balance from a large gap on the floor destroyed from the flames beneath. You tell yourself to be more careful and to avoid the smoke, as it’s blocking your vision. After regaining your balance, you look down and see the flames consuming the floor below. You make a jump for it, securing yourself with web just in case the floor gives out once you land. Fortunately, it doesn’t.

You step into another apartment, offering help. Your eyes scan the space hurriedly as you yell out for anyone. You’re so concerned about not leaving anyone behind that you fail to notice a loose wooden board hanging behind you as your eyes search the apartment. You look around, coughing a little due to the smoke before the board falls on you - hitting you on your shoulder. You wince, taking your shoulder and putting pressure on it to ease the ache that was left from it. You search room after room before you return to the hallway, making your way into another apartment. You enter it quickly, checking a bedroom and finding no one, before you go into the living room where you surprisingly fall through the floor and onto the one below.

You grunt softly as you feel the impact of the fall. Still on the ground, you look around and realize you’re lucky that you didn’t fall straight into flames but instead into a small pocket of space that has been spared from the flames - for now.

“She just fell through the floor but seems unscathed,” Lyla reports to Miguel.

He nods, concern etched on his face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, she’s up now and searching the floor one last time.”

Miguel nods, eyes narrowing. His talons keep retracting and extracting unconsciously. It’s been a few minutes since he saw you come out through the fire stairs with a family. He silently hopes you get out of the building soon. His nerves have not settled down at all, even as he has been watching the firefighters work relentlessly to stop the spread of the fire.

“Anyone here?!” you call out as you cough out, knowing that the fifth floor has been cleared up.

“Here!”

You turn as you hear a masculine voice.

“Over- here!” the man says, his tone indicating pain.

You make your way to them as quickly as possible, crawling whenever you can to avoid the smoke. You come across a yellow suited person. A firefighter. You reach them quickly, realizing that they have debris over their legs.

“Spider-Woman,” the firefighter says as he realizes it’s you.

“I’m going to lift this off you, okay? Is that alright?” you ask them as you prepare to lift the debris off them.

“Yes - I think I have a broken leg,” the firefighter tells you.

You nod, feeling bad for the man before you gently lift the debris off them to avoid any more injuries.

“Okay, okay. I’m going to drag you to the nearest window - we need to get you out of this smoke,” you tell him.

“We both need to get out of this smoke,” he says, grimacing. “We can request a ladder from the window.”

“Alright, tell me if I’m hurting you,” you reply as you move around and position yourself. You lift him up from his underarms, your hands meeting in front of his chest to drag him, hoping you don’t meet with flames as you move. Your eyes water but you push through it as you spot a window. You move faster, avoiding injuring the firefighter.

“Ladder!” you yell out and thankfully, there’s a ladder on the floor below that quickly moves up to meet you. “Firefighter injured! Possibly a broken leg!” you inform the firefighter on the ladder.

“That’s Samuel! I was looking for him! Here!” the other firefighter responds as they set up to help you.

As a team, the non-injured firefighter and you lower Samuel down the ladder. Your sticky powers come in aid as you hold Samuel’s weight so the other firefighter doesn’t carry his weight alone. At last, the three of you reach the ground where other firefighters help with Samuel, taking him away to receive treatment.

“Is that everyone, Spider-Woman? We didn’t find any other tenants,” a woman says.

“I checked the fifth floor, there was no one else. Everyone else from the upper floors should have evacuated earlier but I’ll do one quick sweep,” you reply as your eyes scan the fire. It seems to be dying now thanks to the firefighters’ efforts but you still can’t find peace. Not until the flames are fully gone. You nod to the firefighters before you swing back to the building, hoping once again that your building, the one that you’ve lived at for years, won’t completely burn down.

You check every floor, thankful that the flames have not reached this point of the building. You can smell the smoke on yourself as you check every apartment to make sure that no one has stayed behind. As you search, you can’t help but feel sorrow. It seems that the firefighters are isolating the fire but even then, you’ve assisted in enough fires and know that the building will be inaccesible for a few weeks, if not months, depending on how fast an investigation is done to find the reasoning for the fire. It also depends on how soon the landlord starts with the cleaning and rebuilding.

You sigh deeply as you push through a door and search. You suddenly remember a conversation from weeks ago, making you pause in someone’s living room. Your memory connects the first woman you saved and her friend to New Year’s Eve. You sigh again but this time upset. You recall seeing the two women that evening when you were leaving the building at the same time to visit your loved ones at the cemetery. You move around the apartment, remembering that one of the women asked the other one if they had unplugged their Christmas lights. They didn’t. That reminds you of the fact that your landlord passed out a notice asking all tenants to avoid leaving the holiday lights plugged all day to avoid a short circuit last month. You silently wonder now if this fire was due to an overloaded socket, if this is an electric fire.

Finding no one in the apartment, you move to the next floor. You check the floor quickly and move to the next until you reach your floor. You check every apartment and then yours, even though you know there should be no one there. You move on to the next floors and thankfully, there are no tenants left inside. You notify the firefighters who tell you the fire has ceased at last. You linger around for a few minutes, hearing the worries and complaints of tenants - all worried about their housing situation. After hearing the firefighters inform tenants that no one can enter the premise until it can be ruled out that this isn’t a crime scene, you retreat silently and enter the building again undetected.

You find yourself in your apartment, standing in the middle of your living room, silently thinking about how you won’t be able to be here for some time. You allow yourself a few minutes before you begin to collect some items. The first items you collect are Peter’s record player and all the vinyls. You take them to your bed, deciding to make your bed the collecting place. You return to the living room, focusing on the photos on your wall. Once they’re collected, you move to the bookcase where you get Peter’s belongings, like his books and other small decorations. You also remember to retrieve photo albums storing photos from all the way to your childhood to the last years with Peter. Lastly, you pick up technological devices like your laptop and the tablet Miguel gifted you for Christmas from his universe from the living room.

At last, you focus on your bedroom, heading to the closet immediately. You quickly locate a plastic file organizer that contains important legal documents belonging to Peter and you. The two of you were prepared just in case something like this ever happened since neither of you wanted to lose important documents in a rush due to a fire or some other emergency.

You open the file organizer slowly, spotting a passport. You pick it up and open it. Peter’s photo greets your eyes and despite yourself, you stare at it for a few seconds. You briefly remember going together to renew it for a trip the two of you took years ago and how excited he was about it. The passport is still valid, leading you to silently wonder about the many trips the two of you would’ve gone on if everything was different. Smiling, you shake your head and place the passport back, zipping the file organizer back to avoid losing anything.

You look around your bedroom, not sure where you’ll be staying at yet. You grab your favorite tote bag, the one that Miguel gifted you this past Christmas, and place the file organizer in it. You search your bedroom and start putting other items into the bag. Your mind is concerned about the stability of the building. What if it collapses? This thought keeps running through your mind as you retrieve Peter’s box, the one that contains all of his clothes and other belongings you packed away. There’s no way you’re leaving his belongings behind and possibly losing them.

You bring the box to the bed, placing it next to the tote bag before you retrieve other items. Once you have a pile of items, you fetch a carry-on to pack everything in.

You search your apartment one more time, making sure you’re not leaving anything of sentimental value - anything that belonged to Peter or your parents. Finding nothing else, you begin to pack your belongings in the carry-on. As you pack, you finally start to think about where you’ll be staying. This situation is most likely going to last for a few weeks, if not months. You’re certain the fire started because of an electrical issue. The building is, after all, on the older side, and there was that notice from your landlord back in December. It seems to add up. However, even if the fire is deemed an electrical fire and there’s no need for a longer investigation, the cleaning and rebuilding of the building might take months unless your landlord miraculously pulls it together somehow. You can only hope but for now you have to figure out where you’ll be staying.

“Hotel,” you say to yourself as you remember the plan Peter and you came up with. The plan used to be your parents and Aunt May’s place but with them gone, it changed to a hotel. You sigh softly as you carefully pack your belongings, trying to avoid any damage to the sensitive items like the records. Your spidey senses suddenly go off again, causing you to turn.

“Please tell me you’re not actually considering staying at a hotel,” Miguel says softly as he comes in from the living room, hoping not to startle you. “You’re more than welcome to stay at my place.”

“Miguel,” you say gently as he approaches you, stopping near you but keeping enough distance to give you space.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone filled with concern. His eyes search your body, even in the barely lit room, trying to find any sign of injury. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay. At least, I think so,” you answer. “Nothing hurts.”

“Good. I’m relieved to hear that. I wanted - to help you, but Lyla said you didn’t want backup.”

“Lyla…” you say, narrowing your eyes as you remember declining backup and asking her not to tell Miguel or anyone else. “She told you.”

“No. She didn’t. I actually…” Miguel looks away for a few seconds. “I think I sensed it somehow. I woke up on my own and had this… feeling. When I asked her what was happening, that’s when she told me. I traveled here immediately but watched from afar, just in case you wanted backup,” Miguel says quietly, not quite sure what to make of this fact in the moment. All he cares about is that you’re unhurt, or at least it seems that way. He’ll be making sure of it once you both reach Nueva York, or somewhere far safer with better lighting.

You smile softly at the fact that Miguel somehow sensed your situation despite the fact that he doesn’t have a spidey sense. You stare at each other in the darkness of the room, thinking about that special connection between the two of you. Neither of you understand it, nor have addressed it since the day you told Miguel how you knew he was in trouble back in the spring when he came face to face with a variant of the Green Goblin and he was stranded on Earth-42, and he was injured. Despite not talking about it, the two of you have thought about it. Sometimes you wonder how is it possible but regardless, you feel comforted by it. As to Miguel, he used to find it both comforting and fearful, though these days when he thinks about it, he finds himself no longer feeling afraid of that bond and what it means. He’s embraced this connection - this bond - as the months have passed.

“I see. Well, thank you for coming and for respecting my decision about backup,” you tell him softly.

Miguel nods, looking at you. “Always,” he replies, knowing deep inside of him that he’ll always show up for you and respect your decisions. “You were - amazing,” he adds quietly.

You smile warmly, feeling a bit of heat in your cheeks thanks to Miguel’s compliment, but also because it reminds you of the times Peter used to tell you the same thing when he saw footage of you on the news. You blink softly, pushing the memories away for now.

“I was - okay, but thank you. I’m just glad no one was seriously hurt,” you reply, turning away and continuing to pack.

Miguel frowns. Did he say something wrong?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says, softly.

You pause and turn to face him. “What - no. You didn’t. I’m sorry,” you whisper even though there’s no need to. There’s no else in the apartment, or even in the building. “Your words didn’t upset me. Seriously, thank you. It means a lot coming from another Spider person - coming from you,” you say with a warm smile, pausing to make sure that Miguel understands his words didn’t upset you. “Believe me. It’s just - I have Peter on my mind. I mean, he’s always there, you know? But tonight, with this fire - and collecting his items - he’s even more present in my mind right now, and your words… He used to tell me things like that when he saw me in action. I’m just feeling a little… sentimental.”

Miguel nods, understanding, yet also feeling relieved that he didn’t upset you with his words. “I see. I’m sorry that Peter…” he starts but is unable to finish as his mind runs with thoughts. If Peter was alive, Miguel is sure the two of you would’ve been packing together right now. Knowing how organized you are, Miguel imagines that the two of you had some plan in action for these kinds of emergencies. Instead, you’re here on your own packing Peter’s belongings because he’s no longer here. “I wish things were different,” he says at last, wanting to say more but not sure he should due to the sensitive circumstances.

You nod softly. “Thank you. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay,” you reply, the last statement feeling sweet in your mouth as you recall Peter telling you that in your dream.

Miguel nods and watches as you pack, feeling admiration that even in this moment you seem so put together. “Always,” he answers quietly before he looks at your belongings. “Is this everything you’re taking? I can help take some of these items out to another rooftop, somewhere far from the building to avoid civilians’ eyes. We can open a portal from there.”

You look at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“You’re not actually going to a hotel, are you? There’s Gabriel’s room, empty. You can stay there for as long as necessary. Until the building is deemed safe for living.”

“Miguel, that might mean that-” you start but Miguel shakes his head, and lifts his hand up, asking you to stop because he knows where you’re going with this.

“It might mean that you stay there for weeks, or even months. I know the process can be tedious and long in these situations. That’s why you can’t stay at a hotel. Not when you have options. Please, you’ll be far more comfortable there.”

You pause your packing and stare at the items on your bed, contemplating. Accepting Miguel’s offer would mean staying with him for at least a few weeks. That would entail taking some of his privacy away. You briefly think about the fact that neither of you have lived with someone in a while, especially you. There’s also the fact that you wouldn’t be sleeping here, in your universe, for so long - a thought that makes you a little sad.

“It’s not a problem for me,” Miguel starts, noticing your silence but sensing your internal debate. “You will not be invading my privacy. You’ll have your own space and I won’t bother you. Just - think about it. At least for tonight, stay there.”

You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. “Did you just say you won’t bother me? That’s not even something I’m worried about.” You shake your head softly, and despite everything, laugh a little, a sound that makes Miguel grin in the dim lit bedroom. “I’m concerned about the fact that I’d be sleeping in another universe for more than a few days. About invading your space. I don’t want to intrude and be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden. You could never be…” Miguel says gently, silently wondering why you’d think that. “We are… You know what we are.”

You nod slowly. “Yes… I know,” you whisper. You sigh after a few seconds and nod again. “Okay, just for a little bit - a few days.”

“Or, a few weeks. Months, if necessary. Unless you’re not comfortable at my home,” Miguel says quietly with a bit of a frown.

“It’s not that. I just - you’re used to your space, and I’m used to mine,” you answer quietly. “Neither of us has - you know - it’s been a while since either of us has shared our space with another person.”

Miguel nods, understanding what you mean, yet, he thinks back to the last spring when he was injured.“I know, but I think it’ll be okay. We’ve - kind of done it before.”

You stare at Miguel in surprise, realizing that he’s right. You’ve stayed at his home before and those days felt - normal, almost right. You both fell into a routine very quickly. Yet, you can’t help but think that after a few days of staying there, your presence might disturb Miguel’s routine.

“Don’t overthink it. If you’re not comfortable for whatever reason, then we can figure something out but please,” Miguel says.

You finally nod, because the man before you has been offering way too many times now for you to keep refusing, and besides, you’d feel better there than at a hotel room on your own.

“Okay, but if you need me to leave, please let me know, okay?” you ask.

Miguel nods, though he’s biting back from telling you that he would never do such a thing to someone who has found themselves in this situation, even less to you. However, Miguel refrains from voicing this thought because he doesn’t want to add stress to your already stressful morning.

“Alright... Is this everything you’re packing? For now, at least? We can come back later and retrieve more items.” Miguel looks around for a few seconds. “Honestly - we could take all your furniture and store it on one of the lower floors, just in case. That way nothing happens to your belongings.”

You shake your head gently at him, yet feel appreciation for the offer. “That’s not necessary. I don’t mind if something happens to this furniture. I hope not because that would mean the other tenants would lose their belongings, but I’m not as attached as I was to the old furniture, so I don’t mind. I have everything I want to save right, just in case. So, it’s alright, really,” you reply softly with a small smile.

“If you’re sure - if not, my offer stands. I’m sure if we get the whole group, we could get everything out in no time. I mean it,” Miguel says. “It would be no problem. Just think about it, okay?” he says gently, wanting to be as helpful as possible without pushing too much, though all he wishes to do is help you and be there for you for who he is - your friend. “Alright, I’ll help you with this bag and box. You can hold on to the record player, “ Miguel offers, knowing how much Peter’s record player means to you.

You nod and finish packing. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. After dropping everything off I’m coming back to see if anyone needs help. I hope you don’t mind me returning a bit later.”

“Of course not. I know there may be emergencies during the night, so you’ll need to go in and out. I understand. Don’t worry about it, okay?” Miguel replies and you nod, grateful. “Have you packed clothes, at least a few changes?”

You stop, realizing. You hadn’t even thought of that since you were more concerned with keeping Peter’s belongings and other sentimental items safe first. “I haven’t, let me do that really quickly.”

You find another travel bag, the one that you used back when you stayed at Miguel’s place when you were looking after him, and begin packing. In a matter of minutes you put it together, packing clothes for at least a week before you pack your personal hygiene products. At last, you have everything you think you’ll need. Miguel picks up Peter’s box and two travel bags as the two of you get ready to leave.

You thank him again as you pick up the other items and head to the window both of you entered the apartment through. Before slipping out, the two of you pause at the window, taking in one last glance - silently thinking that you’d like to see it one last time, just in case. The two of you exit the apartment before you close the window with a heavy pang in your chest. You hope that you’ll only be away for a few weeks, and not months from your little apartment but only time will tell. You follow Miguel, holding on to your belongings. You check very quickly to see what’s going on outside your building, wondering how many of your neighbors are still there. You notice that the crowd has become smaller, and some people are taking cabs.

About a minute later, you both land on a rooftop. Miguel opens a portal and gestures for you to go first. You do so, but not without another glance. You’ll be back in a few minutes to check on the situation but for now, you head to Nueva York - the only other dimension in the entire multiverse that feels somewhat like home.

You step out into Miguel’s living room, carrying your record player like it’s gold. You move out of the way for Miguel to step out before he gestures for you to follow him, leading the way.

“Come on,” Miguel says softly. “Let’s get you settled in.”

You follow him up the stairs and into the hallway, carrying your items. Miguel pushes the door open to Gabriel’s old room, and you’re back once again to this bedroom. You can’t help but feel nostalgia as you enter the room. It’s been many, many months since you stayed the night ever since Miguel was injured. You quickly get reacquainted with the bedroom, finding comfort in it. There’s the bookshelf with some books about science and repairing and as always, everything is clean and organized.

“I washed the bedding earlier this week but we can wash it again tomorrow if you want,” Miguel says as he places the box carefully on the floor, not sure what’s exactly in it. “Or, if you prefer, we can bring your bedding and take this one off so you’re more comfortable with your own later. I don’t mind it at all. Whatever feels more comfortable to you,” Miguel says taking the bag you’re holding from you and placing it on a desk. “Just - I want you to feel comfortable and - at home,” Miguel says softly, quietly. “So, feel free to use the room however you need. If you want to decorate it while you’re here… You can.” Miguel stares at the bed for a few seconds, silently wondering if he’s being too much by telling you to decorate the bedroom if you wish to. He’s not even sure if you want to stay for more than a few days after how long it took him to convince you because for some reason you think you’re going to be a burden.

You smile warmly at Miguel as he turns his gaze from the bed to you. “Thank you. I really appreciate it, truly. I was - I want to apologize for earlier,” you start. You meet his gaze, hoping he can see the sincerity in your words. “I’m not uncomfortable being here. At all. I just don’t want to disturb your peace. Your space. I hope I didn’t come off as rude when I kept declining your offer. I really do appreciate you letting me stay here. It means so much to me. Thank you, Miguel.”

After a nod, Miguel offers you a small smile. “Always,” he answers, still meeting your gaze and holding it. Your words linger in his head, the sincerity in them reaching his heart. He knows you were not trying to be rude, but that you really believe, for some unknown and odd reason to him, that you’ll be disturbing him somehow. He’s especially caught up in the words you said just now - how you don’t want to disturb his peace and space - and thinks to himself about how this penthouse only truly feels peaceful and homey when you’re here.

That’s not to say that there isn’t peace in this space. There is, only it’s a different kind, an unpleasant one. It’s from the lack of other people in the living space. It’s a kind of peace that Miguel can only describe as lonely. It’s one he’s known for many years.

He thought he was used to this peace prior to his short life in Gabriella’s universe, but Miguel has learned, twice now, that he might never truly feel used to it. He’s still not used to it, even though he finds himself in it often on evenings when he’s back here from HQ. It’s not until recently that he has found a way to make that lonely peace fade a little, and that’s through the record player you gifted him for Christmas. It’s through the music from your universe and the scratching of the vinyl that Miguel manages to push away that unpleasant peace that gnaws at him.

On those evenings, the penthouse feels more welcoming to him, and not so cold and foreign. He never thought something so simple would help, but then again, Miguel never thought a piece of fabric with your scent on it and the sound of your breathing would help him get proper sleep either. Miguel has learned to accept it, to embrace it really, so he plays the record player and listens to the music from your universe, sometimes feeling like he’s not even home but at your apartment - at your universe - as he works. It’s how he tranquilizes that lonely peace in those hours, how he suppresses that gnawing feeling.

While the record player provides a temporary relief, Miguel has noted that the only time that feeling is truly gone is when you're there, at his penthouse.

You fill the penthouse with a warm and comfort that Miguel only used to feel when Gabriel lived with him and when Miguel lived in Gabriella’s universe. You bring a warm peace that he only felt with Gabriel and Gabriella, and now with you.

Miguel clears his throat, reminding himself that the two of you are still standing here in your apartment, and that you're still smiling warmly at him. He feels tempted to tell you all his thoughts from just now, but it’s still too soon, and his thoughts are so vulnerable.

“You won’t be disturbing me. I promise,” Miguel says softly, opting for that simple and straightforward answer as he looks away, trying to think of what else he can do to make you feel welcomed before he continues speaking. “Is there anything I can get you? Are you hungry or - actually, are you sure you’re not hurt? Lyla told me you fell through one of the floors. Does anything hurt?” he asks, frowning deeply as his eyes turn back to you, searching your face and suit for any indication of cuts, bruises, or blood.

You smile fondly at him as you recognize the concern on his face. “I feel alright. I didn’t get hurt when I fell. I just feel a little sore now,” you reply as you place your mask on the desk. You can still smell the smoke on yourself, which makes you wish for a shower now, but you have yet to return to your universe and make sure your help is no longer needed.

“I’ll get you some painkillers and water,” Miguel says as he watches you place your mask on the desk for now.

“I appreciate that. Thank you.” you say softly as you rub one of your eyes. You can feel the exhaustion begin to kick in so you grab your mask again. “I need to get going. I can feel my body begin to relax.”

“Have some water first,” Miguel says. “C’mon. It will freshen you up and then you can go back.”

You follow Miguel back downstairs to the kitchen where he fills a glass with water and offers some painkillers. He watches as you take them, relieve that he can look after you in a small way at least.

You finish the water and give him a grateful smile. “Thank you. I didn’t know I needed that until now.” You stretch slightly after you place the glass on the counter. “Alright, let me go back. I’ll be back in a few. Thank you for - everything,” you say softly as you hold on to your mask.

Miguel nods with a soft smile. “Always... Be careful. if you need anything - let me know, please.”

You nod gently. “Will do. I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, you head back to your universe, leaving Miguel in the kitchen.

Upon arriving to your universe, you head to your building. The smoke has died down by the time you reach it. The police cars and firetrucks are still there, securing the area. Some tenants linger, figuring out what to do now in the middle of the night. You assist them as best as possible and offer additional help to the firefighters, learning through the captain that the firefighter that you helped earlier sends his gratitude and will recover successfully from his injuries.

It’s not until an hour later that you return to Miguel’s universe. You step out into the living room, finding Miguel standing near the windows. He's staring out at the city in silence, still wearing his suit, as if he’s been ready just in case you needed his assistance.

Upon hearing your arrival, Miguel turns around and faces you. His eyes search your body once again, scanning for any injuries but he finds none.

You greet him with a small smile, definitively feeling tired now. You stare back at him as he looks at you, not surprised he’s still awake despite the time it is. “Sorry it took me a while, I got caught up.”

Miguel shakes his head. “It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. You must be tired,” he says, his eyes searching your face.

“Yes, a little bit. It’s… wow. It’s now past six,” you say, realizing. You also realize you need to shower since you still smell like smoke. “I really need a shower.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be down here. There’s clean towels in the bathroom, but if you need anything, please let me know,” Miguel says quietly.

“Thank you! Are you - Are you not tired?” you ask, wondering if Miguel will get back to bed, at least to catch half an hour of sleep before he heads to HQ.

Miguel smiles softly and shakes his head. “No. I’m not tired, but you must be. Shower, and I’ll have something for you to eat. Then you can sleep.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. Breakfast, I mean. I’ll…” you trail off, realizing your routine is going to be different for a little while. You look at Miguel and smile sheepishly, which makes him grin in amusement.

“Your routine is going to feel off for a few days but - I believe you’ll fall back into it again, which reminds me…” Miguel starts, meeting your gaze. His grin dissipates, amusement placed to the side for the time being because what he wants to tell you is serious. “I told you earlier that I want you to feel at home. I mean it. I know it’s going to be a little different. You’re not only going to be in a different environment from your own but in an entirely different universe. If you decide to stay here, of course,” Miguel says, still unsure of your thoughts on this.

You were reluctant earlier, and for all he knows, you’re only interested in staying here for a few days, even if he hopes for the opposite. “I’ve offered for you to stay here for as long as you need. It can be a few days, a few weeks, a few months…” Miguel says trailing off, almost saying you could stay here for years if you wanted to, but he stops just in time before he actually says it because you might find it strange that he’d be okay with this.

In fact, Miguel realizes right now that he’d be perfectly happy with it, which makes his cheeks feel hot. He clears his throat gently. “What I’m trying to say is that - My home is your home,” Miguel continues, his eyes still meeting yours. His gaze has been unwavering the entire time, hoping that he drives home his offer and that you understand that you're not a burden. “Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be there for you and respect it, just know you’re welcomed here. Please don’t feel like you’ll be a burden as you said earlier. You’re not,” he says much more softly. “I don't know how long you'd like to stay here. You don’t have to decide that now in this instant, but I do want you to know that whether you stay a day or months, you can use the penthouse however you want to. If you want to read in the living room like you always do back in your universe, or if you want to randomly bake cookies at 10am or 9pm, you can. If you want to use one of the offices, you’re more than welcomed to. Same as the laundry room -” Miguel pauses, thinking that maybe he’s overdoing it. He scratches his neck softly, his eyes moving away for a few seconds before they return to you. “I just want you to know that you don’t need to be limiting yourself or, feel like you need permission, or something like that. In any way. My home is your home.”

You nod gently, feeling appreciation and gratitude towards Miguel. There’s also tenderness swirling in your mixture of feelings. Here he is telling you his home is your home.

“And also - I know,” Miguel says with a small shrug and an apologetic smile, but he has been thinking about all of these things while you've been away. And, Miguel knows you very well. “You don’t have to worry about groceries or anything like that. Unless it’s something that can only be acquired from your universe, then yes, but otherwise, don’t worry about it, okay?” Miguel says, staring intently at you with his hands on his hips now.

“About bills-” you start.

“Nor about paying bills. Or rent,” Miguel says lifting his hand, and pointing at nothing in particular, a signal that he had that on his mind as well. Miguel mentally runs through his list of points. While he waited for updates from Lyla about you, he thought of these details. He thought about how your daily routine will feel off for a few days and how you’ll probably want to pay for staying here. Miguel stares at you, noticing you want to debate this. “Please. I know that if it was me, you’d do the same,” Miguel adds softly, hoping to make you see his side. His words, Miguel notices, seem to hit home because he sees the shift in your eyes.

You nod once more and sigh softly. You shake your head at him, a small smile forming on your face. The exhaustion is hitting but you still find it in yourself to smile to him. “You know me - too well,” you say quietly because his words have struck home. Miguel is absolutely right. If it was him in your situation, you’d be telling him the exact same things down from asking him not to worry about bills nor groceries, and about making himself at home at your apartment. You’d be trying to be as helpful as possible, to comfort him as much as you can. A part of you still wants to discuss some of these points, but you decide to leave it for later.

Miguel’s eyes lit up as he sees your small, tired but nonetheless sweet smile. He feels like he has finally made his point after all his talking with just a few words. Miguel returns the smile. “I’ll be making breakfast while you shower. If you need anything - at all - just tell Lyla and she’ll let me know. Don’t worry about anything else for now,” Miguel says and nods to the stairs, as if silently asking you to go on.

You nod and give Miguel a playful grin that fills his chest with warmth.

“Alright, I’m going to go shower. I’m probably stinking up your penthouse like smoke,” you say, nodding to the stairs. “Before I go though - I just want to thank you for everything, Miguel. I truly appreciate it,” you utter softly, your tone filled with sincerity and gratitude.

Miguel nods gently, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Always.”

You smile back at him and nod.

“Go on. I’ll be down here. Let me know if you need something, alright?”

“I will, thank you,” you reply softly, still smiling at him. You give him a nod, and with that you, you head upstairs.

You enter Gabriel’s bedroom, finding your belongings more organized than you left them. You also notice that Miguel has added another blanket, a fuzzy one.

You gather everything you need for your shower, including a change of clothes. Before you exit the bedroom, you pause at the door and look out the window. The sun is already making its way up in Nueva York. You grin softly before you head to the bathroom to shower at last. You shower quickly and do everything you need to after your shower, dressing into comfortable clothes. You hope not to sleep all day but you recognize your body is tired and needs to rest for a bit. Besides, you have a feeling that Miguel might get on to you if you don’t, which you find endearing.

You head back downstairs once you’re done, feeling clean and fresh. You mentally tell yourself to wash your suit once you wake up. It’s one of the many things you’ll need to do. You start thinking about setting up your room for the time being and about the little things you’ll have to do back home, like taking out the food from the fridge that will go bad if it hasn’t already, since you’re certain the fire was an electrical one considering there was no power when you were evacuating civilians out of the building. There’s also your laundry, and other small things of the sort to think about. You silently think about creating a list as you finally reach the kitchen.

Miguel turns at the sound of your footsteps. He notices the look on your face, the one you get when you’re lost in thought, and he’s sure you’re already thinking about the many things you wish to do.

“We’ll get things sorted out,” Miguel says softly as you take a seat at the counter at last. He notices the little sigh that escapes past your lips and the way you slightly lean on the counter to get some relief. He thinks about how you’ve been on your feet since you woke up; swinging, crawling, and carrying people nonstop. The closest you got to a break was when you took the painkillers and drank water.

Miguel is sure that now that you’ve showered and you’ve sat down, that all your aches and exhaustion will truly begin to surface. “Eat some breakfast. Rest. And then, we can do everything that needs to be done, alright?” he adds, as he places two glasses in front of you. One with orange juice and the other with water, opting not to offer you coffee right now so you'll rest properly.

You nod and give him a tired smile. “Alright. Thank you, truly,” you say quietly as you grab the glass with water since your mouth feel a little dry. You chug it down gently, finding relief, before you set it back down.

Miguel takes the glass and refills it for you before placing it back and checking on the stove. He stirs the food he's cooking, making it the only noise that fills the space. You don’t know what Miguel is cooking, but whatever it is, it smells fantastic and makes your mouth water. You drink more water as Miguel cooks, his back to you. You close your eyes for a bit, feeling the need to close them.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

You open your eyes and find Lyla. She floats near your face with a concerned look on her face, so you offer her a smile. “I’m alright, thank you. What about you?”

“I’m well, thanks. Glad to hear you’re okay,” Lyla replies with a little grin, though her eyes still show concern. “You did well.”

“Thank you. Also… thank you for respecting my wish and not telling Miguel,” you quietly tell Lyla though you’re sure Miguel is not even listening as he opens cabinets to get some items out.

“You got it, boss. I would’ve told him if I saw that you were in danger but,” Lyla pauses with a proud smile. “You were killing it. Miguel and I were just watching you in awe.”

“Breakfast is about to be ready,” Miguel says from the stove.

Lyla and you both turn to Miguel and share a little grin.

“Well, you did amazing but you really need to rest now. I agree with Miguel on this one,” Lyla says. “So rest up. Please.”

You nod with a little smile.

“Hm, didn’t know she had that term in her vocabulary,” Miguel comments as he places a plate with food in front of you.

“I do, I just don’t use it for you. Only with special members,” Lyla says with a shrug, which reminds Miguel of something Lyla said a while back. She mentioned you are one of her top five favorite members. Miguel silently wonders once again what your spot is, and who are the other four members. He has a feeling Spider-Plushie, Spider-Cat, Spider-Wolf, or Spider-Rex are up there with you.

He clears his mind and gives you utensils along with napkins, making sure you have everything so you can eat properly. Lyla has already disappeared.

“Thank you. My mouth is watering,” you tell Miguel as you look at the food.

“Go ahead and start eating. Your body needs it to recover,” Miguel says gently, gesturing for you to eat.

You take a bite and involuntarily close your eyes at the flavor. You would happily pass away right now with this amazing food.

Miguel watches your reaction, smirking softly at the sight and feeling pleased. He thought by now he would be used to it but each time, without failure, the sight of you smiling and enjoying the food makes him joyous. It’s so satisfying for some reason.

“Are you not eating?” you ask, looking at him now with wonder in your eyes.

The question brings him back to the moment and he nods. “Yes. Yes, I am,” he replies, offering you a little smile before he turns around to fix himself a plate. For a moment he forgot about himself, being more concerned with you eating first. He serves himself breakfast before joining you at the counter, taking the seat he always does. He silently thinks about how you both always sit on the same chairs, as if you were assigned to them. He smiles at this thought before he turns to look at you, finding you enjoying your food.

His face softens at the sight, and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling he’s had ever since you first stepped foot into his home this morning, and one that has stayed with him. He feels the need to stay here with you, to work from home so he can keep an eye out for you while you rest. He doesn’t want to tell you this though. Miguel knows you well and is certain that you’d try to work, or even go to HQ to avoid “disrupting” his routine if he tells you about his plan. He takes his utensil, getting ready to eat as he thinks about it. He’ll go to HQ and stick around for an hour before he comes back for the rest of the day, but that’s a secret, for now.

He takes a bite of food, appreciating the flavor as he silently plans. He’ll be back in an hour and easily ask Jess or Peter if they can fill in for today’s planned missions. If there’s any missions regarding anomalies, he’s sure other members can handle such missions. Miguel pauses as he thinks of other members, thinking of your friends.

“The others might wonder where you are. Do you want me to tell them what happened, and that you’re here?” Miguel asks gently. “Or, do you prefer to let them know yourself?”

You put down your glass and think. You haven’t even thought about them, feeling too exhausted. “Do you mind telling them?”

“I don’t. I can tell them once I get to HQ. I can tell them that they can come see you once you’re up for it, if you’d like,” Miguel says after he cleans his mouth. “Which is another thing I forgot to mention earlier. I know they visit you often back at your universe, so they can come here if you’d like.”

You shake your head slightly. “Thank you but that’s alright. You’re been far too generous already.”

Miguel frowns softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t mind it, but if you prefer not to, that’s your choice. Just know that I’m fine with it. As I said earlier - my home is your home,” Miguel says picking up his own glass and taking a drink.

You smile at the offer but you don’t want to take advantage of Miguel’s kindness. Besides, you know you can always visit your friends, or arrange to meet up at HQ. You find it sweet though, the fact that Miguel has offered his home to you, and that he has said his home is your home. Not once but three times now.

The two of you eat in silence, enjoying both the food and each other’s company. Miguel keeps the conversation short, as he knows you must be exhausted. When the two of you are done and Miguel notices you standing up and retrieving your dishes, Miguel moves quickly. He takes the dishes from you gently, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it. I got it. Go ahead and rest. Really,” he says as you start to protest. He sees your little frown, and Miguel wonders if this is what you feel like when you want to help him and he protests because he believes that you’ve done too much for him already. He wonders if you feel frustration when he declines politely the way you are now when all he wishes to do is look after you. He sighs softly and places your dishes on top of his before he turns to you. “I’ll be at HQ but if you need anything - at all - please let me know. And again, please make yourself at home. Also, don’t worry about anything else for right now. We’ll sort it out but you need to rest for now, okay?” he says softly, eyes meeting yours.

You nod, noticing the look on Miguel’s face. Concern is written all over it. For a few seconds you wish you weren’t making him this concerned before your mind moves on to the fact that he said “we” when referring to tasks you’ll need to get done, as in the two of you will figure things out together. It’s the second time he’s said it and his words comfort you, deeply. You blindly thought your building would never go through a situation like this one and even less that you’d go through it without Peter. Sure, you were both prepared because that was the responsible thing to do, but you never thought you’d actually have to retrieve the file organizer for such a circumstance - that you’d be packing without Peter. You’re overwhelmed suddenly with the thought that you would’ve been alone for all of this if it wasn’t for Miguel. If you weren’t in the Spider Society, this morning would’ve been very different. You swallow the knot that’s forming in your throat and nod again, feeling emotional and so exhausted. “Okay, I will. I guess - I’ll be here,” you reply quietly, feeling like all your exhaustion is hitting you at once now that you’ve showered, eaten, and have relaxed. The adrenaline has finally worn off, and now you’re all emotion and exhaustion.

“Good,” Miguel replies gently, offering you a small smile. “I’ll let the others know you’re here, so they’re not too worried about you.”

You nod, biting your lower lip subtly and looking away for a few seconds. “Alright, be careful, please.”

Miguel blinks softly at the words, caught by surprise. He nods regardless and offers you a small but reassuring smile. “I will.”

With that, you nod and turn around. You walk towards the living room to head upstairs but pause at the doorway - having the need to say more.

Miguel stands up once he sees you pause. He wonders if something’s wrong. Perhaps you didn’t notice you had injuries earlier but now you’re feeling them, or maybe you’re so tired you’re disoriented. He takes three steps forward before you turn around and meet his gaze.

“Miguel?”

“Yes?” he responds softly, worry etched on his face.

“I think - I’m really tired. My exhaustion is hitting at last and that’s probably why I really want to tell you something I usually wouldn’t.”

Miguel’s eyebrows rises slowly, wondering.

“I truly appreciate everything you’ve done. I don’t think I will ever be able to thank you enough even if I said it a million times but it means so much to me,” you start. “You showing up and respecting my decision for no backup, but sticking around just in case. Helping me with my belongings and of course, offering me to stay here and trying to make me feel at home,” you add with a wavering voice. “It means so much to me and I wish -” you swallow gently, definitely feeling exhaustion take its toll on you, making it harder for you to hold back from expressing sentiments you’d usually hold close to your heart with Miguel. The words roll out of your mouth quickly and your voice quivers as if you were making a dire confession. “I wish I could give you a hug - a really tight one - just to emphasize with more than words - how much it means to me.” You pause for a second before finishing. “And I should go to sleep before I keep saying things. I hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable, and if it did, I’m really sorry.”

You nod quickly before walking away, not wanting to make Miguel feel more uncomfortable than he probably already is by lingering around. You leave Miguel behind, who watches you leave with a soft expression on his face. His cheeks are flushed and his hands form into soft fists as he stands alone now.

He continues to stare through the doorway, only seeing part of his living room now, and wonders… What would it be like? What would it be like to let you do exactly what you wish to do? What would it feel like to be hugged again? To feel warm arms wrapped around him? And what if he hugged you back?

Miguel sighs deeply as he leans on the counter before he gently hits the countertop with his fist.

What if?

Miguel’s mind is clouded with your words, with the possibility. He has been thinking about it for weeks now - two months, really. He has been thinking about it ever since Thanksgiving when the two of you, at his request, invited your friends over because there was so much food even after you both ate. He was caught up with the younger members, the spiderlings as you call them, a nickname that Miguel finds endearing and that he has found himself using mentally - even catching himself almost saying it verbally at times. The spiderlings were asking him questions about his sound system and he ended up showing them other devices from his universe. He remembers looking over from the living room to the kitchen and dining area and finding you leaning your head on Peter B.’s arm, so at ease.

For some reason, ever since that night, Miguel has been thinking about it more. About how much more open you are to physical touch. He notices it more these days. From the little gestures like high-fives to the big gestures, like on New Year’s Eve just a few weeks ago when Noir and Spider-Ham were talking to him and he realized you were suddenly gone from his side. He ended up finding you talking with Peter B.. Miguel relaxes his fists as he remembers, vividly, Peter’s arm around your shoulder and once again, how comfortable you were. The sight only added more fuel to his thoughts about physical touch.

Miguel looks at his pinky. There has been some physical touch. Some of it has been unintentional, of course. Miguel is not opposed to physical touch when it’s necessary, like on missions. He picks up civilians, carries them. When spider-people are in danger and need a hand, he lends one but on his day to day life, his personal life - Miguel has been limited. All contact in these situations involve having his suit on, so no skin to skin contact is made. Ever since losing Gabriella, the only person he has touched - with his bare hands and nothing in between - has been you with the pinky squeezes. He also remembers holding Mayday the day you were babysitting her but that’s it.

It’s just you and the pinky squeezes. The first time he did it, he didn’t even plan on it. It happened. All he knows is that his pinky was suddenly wrapped around yours, and he gave a little squeeze. Now there’s been a few other times, the last one being on New Year’s Eve. Everyone was hugging and welcoming the new year, and Miguel thought - after seeing all your friends hug you - that he’d try and give you a “hug” in his own way. It was also his way to comfort you a little bit after you cried, which made his heart ache even if you were crying “happy” tears as you said to him that night.

Besides the pinky squeezes, that’s all there has been, except for the first time he touched you. Miguel sighs as he realizes it will soon be two years since that day, making him wonder where the time has gone. He remembers it vividly, however, how he pressed his hand to your forehead almost two years ago to see if you had a running fever. He didn’t even think about it in the moment. Before he knew it, his bare hand was pressed to your skin and it was the first time since Gabriella that Miguel had touched anyone skin to skin.

Your words have Miguel standing here now, in his kitchen, contemplating. That’s not all though. He feels his heart speed up at the fact that you said you wished you could hug him, that you were telling him something you normally wouldn’t tell him and it was this. It means you’ve wished to hug him before. Miguel silently wonders how many times have you wished for this? He’s seen the way your hands sometimes reach for him but stop halfway, remembering his boundaries but how many times have you wanted more than pat his hand or arm? How many times have you wished to embrace him?

Miguel wonders again - what would it feel like to have the privilege of being hugged by you? What if he hugged you back, and embraced your warmth?

“Dios,” Miguel whispers as he stares down at his hands. He can feel a tingling, almost as if his own hands are asking - begging - him to go and feel.

He pushes himself off the counter and walks off, heading upstairs. His steps are quick but quiet to avoid disturbing you, and in truth, Miguel doesn’t know what he’s doing, not even when he reaches Gabriel’s bedroom door and he finds it ajar. He stands still and listens, his ears filled instantly with your soft breathing.

Miguel pushes the door open softly and sure enough there you are. You lay on the bed, under warm covers. The blanket reaches your collarbone area, keeping you warm. He steps in quietly, noticing the sunlight filtering through the windows and just before he calls for her, Lyla appears and gestures to the windows. Miguel nods gently as he watches his AI assistant give the command for the holographic blinds to lower. He watches for a few seconds as they’re lowered before he lifts his hand, giving a silent command to stop when they’re two thirds of the way closed as he doesn’t want you to wake up in full darkness.

He nods at Lyla who gives him a thumbs up and disappears, sensing that she needs to head out. Miguel watches you sleep. Your face is relaxed and there’s a soft look on your face. You’re, as always, hugging a pillow. Your breathing is soft and even - a sound that Miguel is far too well acquainted with, for this sound is his lullaby.

His hands still itch and he wonders, if you were awake, would he have done it? Would he have walked up to you and hugged you? Or would he have told you that you could hug him, and then he’d embrace you? Miguel shakes his head. There’s no use in thinking about it now. You’re asleep. Still… Miguel steps closer and extends his arm towards you. His index finger is inches away from your cheek.

Miguel retrieves his arm and drops it, telling himself you’re asleep and that it would be inappropriate to touch you, even if it’s only your face. He sighs quietly, looking around the room and making sure everything is alright. He wants to ensure that you’re safe and sound, one last time. Earlier when he came to place the blanket and organized your belongings a little better, he made sure that all the furniture was in good standing. He even made sure the floating shelves were secured to avoid any sort of injury, or to avoid your belongings falling.

Satisfied, Miguel glances back at you one more time. You’re fast asleep, resting after the exhausting early morning you had. He walks out of the bedroom, leaving the door the way you left it and returns back downstairs to make sure everything is turned off at the kitchen.

At last, Miguel heads to HQ, feeling like he’s missing something.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

Miguel closes a tab just as he hears people talking. He’d usually narrow his eyes in annoyance that people walked in unannounced - even if this is the norm from almost everyone - but today he requested this group specifically. He turns around as he hears the voices grow louder, and already, he can hear your name being mentioned.

“I sent her a message earlier to ask if she wanted a bagel. She seems to be offline,” he hears Gwen say.

“Offline? She’s never offline,” Miles replies, his tone uncertain about the situation.

“Maybe she needed a little break but… I think she would’ve told us she was doing that,” Peter B. adds with furrowed eyebrows. His gears already turning as he holds Mayday.

“That’s because I disabled her gizmo’s notifications,” Miguel says, immediately catching everyone’s attention.

“Is Y/N okay?” Pav asks, looking at Miguel with concern.

Miguel nods, his face softening at the sight of your concerned friends, especially from the younger members, the spiderlings. “She’s okay. She’s safe. Just - exhausted,” Miguel says to reassure your friends about your safety before he tells them about the fire. Your friends listen intently, concern clear on their faces as Miguel explains the situation, emphasizing that you’re safe and uninjured. “She’s here.”

“Here at HQ?” Noir asks.

Miguel shakes his head. “No. Not here at HQ. She’s here in Nueva York, but she’s staying at my place. I don’t know… For how long,” Miguel says pausing. He doesn’t know what your plans are. Will you be staying there for however is necessary, or will you try to go somewhere else? He tells himself that’s a question for later, for now all that matters is that you recover and rest. “But, she wanted to let you know that she’s okay. She has no injuries, thankfully. Her floor was spared from the fire, and we can only hope that the building remains stable,” Miguel continues. “I’m not sure that she’ll be here today. I think she should rest but, just know she’s safe.”

“Man,” Peter B. says almost in disbelief, hugging Mayday closer. “Why didn’t she ask for backup?”

Miguel turns to Peter B., agreeing more than ever on something with him. “She didn’t want backup. She asked Lyla not to notify anyone, but I’m sure you all know that she - she’s always -” Miguel pauses, feeling the stares from the members. “She’s always diligent. Always cautious. She’s - ” Miguel waves a hand around as if telling the members that they should know this. The members watch him, fighting the urge to smile because it’s not every day that Miguel O’Hara gives compliments. “She’s amazing, so she did well on her own,” Miguel finally manages to say. “She’s just exhausted. If you wish to tell her something, I’ll set it up so that the notifications don’t disturb her sleep, or you can wait till later in the day and maybe do a live call.”

Your friends nod, feeling sad that you’re going through this but they’re relieved that you’re uninjured and if all goes well, your apartment should be fine.

“What if the building becomes unstable and her belongings are all lost?” Margo asks.

Miguel turns to Margo, his eyes moving to everyone. His eyes stop on Jess, who raises one eyebrow at him, wondering, too. He nods at your friends.

“I offered to store her belongings here but I’ll ask her again.”

“We can help her move her items if she agrees,” Pav replies.

Miguel looks around, watching everyone nod at Pav’s statement. He feels comforted by the fact that your friends are so supportive.

“I’ll let her know,” Miguel responds gently.

He watches as your friends begin to talk, sharing ideas of things they want to do to be supportive. Miguel stares at them as they walk out, planning. He turns to Jess and Peter B. who stick around.

“I’m glad you guys stuck around. I wanted to ask you something,” Miguel starts, facing them.

“We’ll take care of it,” Jess responds.

“What?” Miguel replies, frowning.

“She said we’ll take care of it,” Peter B. says with a knowing smirk.

Miguel glances between the two of them.

“You’ll do your thing for about an hour and then go home, right? That’s what you’re doing.”

Miguel turns to Jess, still frowning.

“We got it, Miguel. You don’t have to worry. We’ve done it before, remember? About a year ago when you were injured. You go and, you know,” Peter say as he plays with Mayday’s hand, who looks up at him and nods her head, as if she, too is telling him to go.

Miguel loses the frown and nods, having no way to deny that they figured out his plan.

“Right. So you guys will be okay?” Miguel asks.

“Yes,” Jess replies. “You go and check on her. Give us the hour before you head out though. I’d like to put something together for her, and as you heard, the other members want to do something. That way you can take it to her.”

“I’ll let everyone know that we have about an hour,” Peter says nodding at Jess.

“Alright. I’ll be working on some things here,” Miguel replies gazing at the two members. “Thank you,” he adds, sharing a look with them.

“No problem,” Jess responds.

“Happy to help. We just want Y/N to be okay and feel supported. She loves her apartment so much, I’m glad the fire didn’t reach her floor,” Peter says.

“Me, too,” Miguel answers softly, turning away to begin working on his screens.

Jess and Peter B., unbeknownst to Miguel, share a knowing look before they head out.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

An hour later, Miguel closes out from his tabs, ready to head out. He would be lying if he said that he hasn’t been thinking about you or that he’s been asking Lyla to check on you while he’s away. It’s been reassuring to have her check on you, at least.

Miguel quickly gathers different items that he needs to take with him, since he’s decided that he’ll be working from home for the rest of the day and then, he waits on his platform. Jess and Peter told the others he’ll be heading out to check on you and that he might not come back, even though they both know he’s not coming back today for sure. He looks up just as your friends come into view, carrying bags with them.

He receives bag after bag, nodding at your friends as they share tidbits about the items they bought you. Miguel finds it endearing, of course. His lips twitch, wanting to curl into a smile as the younger members mention buying your favorite snacks from their universe.

“I’ll give her everything when she wakes up,” Miguel promises, finding common ground with your friends.

Your group of friends thank him but before they head out, Miguel remembers something. “I’ve enabled her notifications again, only for you guys, so if you wish to send her something, it’ll go through.”

Your friends nod happily at the news and as Miguel prepares to leave, he can hear their giddy voices about being able to send you messages again. He shakes his head and smiles softly before he heads out, ready to check on you.

It doesn’t take long for Miguel to reach his home. He finds himself quickly there and after placing all the bags your friends sent on the kitchen counter, Miguel heads upstairs to check on you. He finds you in bed, still sleeping. You’ve changed sides but you’re still holding on to your pillow. The sight satisfies him. He’s relieved that you’re resting and that you seem so peaceful after everything.

Miguel heads back to his bedroom and takes a shower since he didn’t take one before leaving for HQ and dresses in comfortable clothes. His plan is to stick around the penthouse for the day and help you get settled in. He also wants to look around the penthouse and make sure there’s space for you to set your items if you wish to, since all Miguel wants is for you to feel at home.

After checking the entire place for any necessary changes, Miguel starts thinking about lunch. He debates between ordering takeout or cooking something and ultimately decides to cook, believing that a homemade meal will be more appreciated. He thinks about what he should cook and eventually decides on a few dishes, knowing he has the items necessary before he checks on your universe. He knows you always do a morning patrol so he has Lyla check and make sure there’s no emergencies. He also checks on your building to make sure that it’s still standing. He sighs in relief when he sees that it is through his screens at home. He reminds himself to offer to bring the rest of your belongings again once you wake up since even your other friends offered, meaning everyone is on board.

Miguel works on other things throughout the morning, reading data from other universes - making sure the fate of the multiverse isn’t in jeopardy but every thirty minutes or so, he asks Lyla to check on you since he doesn’t want to end up waking you by accident with him checking on you physically. Thankfully, Lyla reports that you’re well and still sleeping peacefully.

It’s not until almost noon that you wake up. You feel lost for a few seconds, not realizing where you are until you remember that you’re in Miguel’s penthouse after what happened this morning. You sigh heavily and sit up, pushing the covers off you and stretching. Your muscles feel sore but stretching eases them so you spend a few minutes doing this until you feel slightly better. You get out of bed and head to the bathroom to use it before you return to the bedroom to change out of your current clothes. You change into comfortable clothes yet they help you wake up and get into the errand mindset. You have some things you wish to do today, at least the high priority ones.

Feeling a bit more together, you head downstairs to get some water since you’re feeling thirsty but pause when you hear soft music. You frown slightly, wondering if you’re just imagining it since you’re certain that Miguel is at HQ but when you reach the bottom of the stairs and find yourself in the living room, you hear it clearly. Miguel’s record player that you gifted him for Christmas about a month ago is playing. You stand there for a few seconds, appreciating the music as it’s Billie Holiday’s “Blue Moon” - one of your favorite songs of hers.

“And then they suddenly appeared before me, the only one my arms will ever hold”

“You’re awake.”

You turn, surprised. “Miguel.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks as he walks further into the living room. His eyes scan your face subtly, searching for any sign of trouble or illness, however, his mind quickly returns to your words from this morning. Thinking about that leads him to remember his internal debate about opening more to physical touch and how he almost touched your cheek in your slumber, causing his cheeks to feel warm suddenly.

“Better. So much better,” you reply honestly, giving him a small smile. You don’t seem to remember what you said, at least not now. “My muscles feel a little sore but, I feel rested. Thank you for asking. For everything, truly,” you add sincerely, which triggers your memory suddenly. You freeze for a few seconds as you remember, feeling your cheeks turn hot with embarrassment, so you avert your gaze from Miguel’s. “I… I just remembered what I said this morning and,” you pause, scratching your neck gently, nervously. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with what I said. The words were just - rolling off my mouth.”

Miguel stands about twelve feet away from you, noticing the way you avert your gaze from him, the way you nervously scratch your neck, and how embarrassed you seem suddenly. He feels ternura rush through him as he stares at you. It’s the opposite of what you think you’ve made him feel, so he steps closer, wanting to assure you.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, so please don’t stress about it. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about either. I understand you were exhausted, it’s only reasonable, and besides…” Miguel trails off, and now he’s the one scratching his neck nervously at what he’s going to say. He’s never actually talked about it, not even with Jess who seems to have been the one who told you about it some time ago - about him not being able to do physical touch. “You know the reason why I can’t but… I want you to know something.”

You turn to face him, your eyes meeting his. You both stare at each other with a soft, tender expression.

“I feel honored that you - you want to do that,” Miguel says quietly, holding your gaze. “That I’m somehow worthy of you wanting to - embrace.” Miguel pauses and looks away for a few seconds. “You know that I’m trying,” he continues, his eyes meeting yours again. He lifts his hand, his pinky finger being the only finger that’s straighten up. “I know it’s nothing compared to an actual embrace but I’m working on it.”

You nod gently, smiling warmly at him. This is the first time Miguel has ever brought up the pinky squeezes or physical touch for that matter. You’ve known for some time now that his pinky squeezes are intentional but hearing Miguel audibly admit that they are makes your heart flutter with happiness.

Miguel gives you a small smile, still holding his pinky finger up. He remembers this morning and how he was feeling - how he went upstairs, not knowing what he would’ve done if you had been awake.

You slowly lift your hand, your pinky finger out, returning the gesture from a far.

Miguel sees it, of course, and with his mind on this morning’s events, he steps closer before pausing. He stays still for a few seconds before he takes several more steps until he’s just about three feet away from you - your pinkies within reach now.

You watch him gently, with curious eyes. So far, Miguel has always found some kind of loop, an excuse to make the gesture seem unintentional. There’s always an object exchanged between the two of you that allows the pinky squeeze to happen, to make it seem like the gesture wasn’t planned.

Miguel looks down at your pinky and then his. Your hands are empty, and so are his. He has no way to excuse his gesture, and he’s not sure that he wants one anymore. He moves his hand closer, his pinky just inches from yours. He looks at you, his beautiful red eyes meeting yours and you see it clearly. A question. Is it okay?

You nod, still smiling softly at him but keeping your hand still. You know the significance of this moment, how big of a step this is for Miguel in his journey to move forward. You stand still, giving Miguel time to decide if he really wants to do this. You’ve never pushed his boundaries, and you have no intentions of doing that now, or ever. You’ll always be patient and respectful of him, no matter what.

Knowing this, Miguel slowly moves his pinky towards yours. He feels comfortable and unhurried as you stand there, letting him decide if he wants to proceed.

And he does.

Miguel’s pinky touches yours at last, making your fingers look like an “X” for a second before Miguel wraps his finger around yours gently.

You remain still, feeling Miguel’s warm finger wrap around yours. You can see the size difference - the way the tip of his finger is enough to wrap around yours. His finger feels soft and you feel a little overwhelmed with the fact that this is happening, that Miguel is really doing this. Just when you’re growing used to this feeling, you see and feel Miguel’s pinky give yours a gentle squeeze. You lift your gaze from your united pinkies to his face, finding him staring at your fingers, too. There’s a light blush grazing his cheeks and when his gaze meets yours, you can see vulnerability and yet, happiness, too.

Miguel holds your gaze, and smiles softly at you. He's done it. It's a small step but a big one regardless.

You don't squeeze his pinky back but slightly brush your finger against his, a sensation that Miguel finds comforting. You stay like this for a minute, or maybe two until your gizmo goes off. The sound startles the two of you but your pinkies remain locked with each other for a few more seconds before you feel Miguel’s pinky release yours gently, leading to both of you dropping your arms down at your sides. You both feel the loss of touch but of course, neither of you mention it.

“That’s probably your other friends. They were really worried about you when I told them what happened,” Miguel says gazing at you. “They sent you gifts - they’re in the kitchen, which reminds me, I have lunch ready if you’re hungry.”

Miguel gestures to the kitchen just as your hunger hits you. You grin sheepishly at him and nod. “I’m actually starving… Thank you, Miguel,” you tell him sincerely, feeling grateful not only for offering lunch but for everything else, especially what he opened himself to do just now. You offer him a smile, warm and sweet, as you think about this new step he has taken. You also hang on to the fact that he said your “other” friends, indirectly calling himself your friend.

“Always,” Miguel replies softly, his gaze still meeting yours as he’s overcome with a great happiness. He has been trying for months, ever since his near death experience back in the spring. He briefly realizes soon it’ll be a year since that happened, which is crazy to him - how fast the months have gone by. However, he’s relieved by the fact that he has stuck to his promise. He said he’d be trying, and he has. His steps may be small and slow, but they’re steps nonetheless, and they’re steps that he might have not taken if it wasn’t for you and that incident. “C’mon,” he says, gesturing for you to follow him. “I cooked something I think you’ll love.”

You follow Miguel to the kitchen, spotting bags on the counter. You figure those are the things that your friends sent, but decide to look at them later. For now, you take a seat as Miguel gestures for you to do so, and realize what he made.

“Flautas,” Miguel says as he carefully but quickly serves you a plate with flautas. The toppings are already set out since Miguel placed them right before he was about to go and check on you. After placing your plate down, Miguel retrieves glasses before he pours you a glass of agua de Jamaica, freshly made.

You watch in appreciation at how extra attentive Miguel is right now. He is always attentive but somehow, he’s even more so today. You thank him quietly and offer Miguel a smile, who is trying to make sure that you have everything you need.

“Always,” Miguel replies, taking notice of your smile. This morning you were giving him smiles and while they were warm and welcoming as always, he could see they were small and exhausted smiles. It was visible to Miguel that the fire took a toll on you, both physically and emotionally. Now, your smile is the same as always. It’s warm, welcoming, and bright. It’s lively, and the difference makes Miguel happy and relieved. He reciprocates with a soft smile, his gaze warm. “Do you feel rested?”

“I do, thank you. For the food and for- ,” you pause, smiling. “For everything.” You give Miguel a little nod, deciding to keep it simple and not go off like you did earlier. “I think I passed out as soon as I laid down,” you say, chuckling a little. “I don’t remember even falling asleep.”

Miguel grins softly, though his mind turns to this morning when he went into your bedroom. He feels embarrassed thinking about how he almost brushed his finger over your cheek as you slept peacefully. He clears his throat, trying to put that thought away. “I’m glad that you feel rested, and I’m not surprised you fell asleep so fast. You helped evacuate so many people, including that firefighter who was injured. It was a lot and you were - well, you were amazing,” Miguel says gently, remembering that you were a bit sensitive when he said that earlier. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his words but he also cannot seem to stop himself from telling you the truth.

You smile at him, your cheeks growing warm as Miguel tells you, once again, that you were amazing. You look away a bit shyly, something that Miguel notices. It’s not often that he sees you like this, and he can’t help but find it sweet.

“Thank you, that means a lot to me. I was just - really hoping no one was hurt. Thankfully there were no tenants injured, at least not seriously. Some of them had a few bruises from them rushing to get out, but there were no casualties.” You pause, thinking about your building. “My building… I hope it’s still standing, and hope it remains like that.”

“It’s still standing,” Miguel quickly says to reassure you. “I’ve been checking on it.”

You sigh in relief. “That’s good, that’s… I’m so relieved. I need to go and check on the area, see what’s happening. I think it was an electrical fire,” you say before you start adding toppings to your plate, and taking a gentle bite.

Miguel’s eyebrows shoot up as he hears this. He hasn’t thought about the cause of the fire, but now that you’ve mention your suspicion, he can’t help but think about the condition of your building. He recalls the time he fixed some things in your kitchen, asking you about those little details. Your building is on the older side, and now that you’ve mentioned it possibly being an electrical fire - it makes Miguel wonder if the building is even up to standards on the electrical aspect. The possibility that it’s not, worries Miguel.

“What did you notice?” he asks.

You wipe your mouth before telling Miguel about the notice your landlord gave out, and the young women you ran into on New Year’s Eve and their short conversation, to how the fire seems to have started on their floor.

“Of course, I’m not saying it was them but… It does lead me to believe that maybe because of the holidays there were other tenants who overloaded the circuits. I’m not really knowledgeable on this but you know,” you say softly and Miguel nods. “That’s why I think it was an electrical fire. I wonder how soon they can figure it out. I don’t think it was arson, but I guess I’m just being wishful.”

Miguel nods and considers your words. “Maybe it was an electrical fire.” He frowns softly to himself as he pours some agua de Jamaica for himself. “Perhaps they have an idea by now of what happened.”

“I hope so. I would like to know.”

“Well… how about we eat and then we can head over there?”

“I would appreciate it, but I don’t want to disrupt your day. You probably have so many things to do at HQ.”

Miguel takes a seat next you, placing his plate in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. Jess is there and so is Peter. If there’s an emergency, they’ll let me know. Everything else I can keep track of from here, and I’ve taken care of a lot of tasks already throughout the morning.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him, unsure. The last thing you want to do is disrupt his day when you know how important the fate of the multiverse is to him.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Miguel replies with a small grin.

The two of you eat and listen to music while Miguel tells you about your friends, and how worried they were about you. You smile all the while, feeling grateful for such amazing friends. After finishing eating, Miguel begins cleaning the kitchen, telling you not to worry about helping him even when you offer. So, you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter with a piece of paper and a pen, jotting down everything you need to do while Miguel quietly cleans. You make a list quickly, mentally walking through your apartment and remembering what needs to be taken care of immediately.

Once you finish creating your list, you head upstairs and change into dark clothes because you remember that your suit is dirty from the morning and you have yet to wash it. To hide your face, you wear a hoodie. When you head back downstairs, Miguel looks at you with a bit of surprise before he remembers your suit.

“Your suit,” he says. “I forgot to tell you that we could put it to wash. It would’ve been ready by now if I had remembered.”

“It’s alright, please don’t worry about it. With so much happening, washing the suit was the last thing I was thinking about.”

“We can put it to wash right now while we’re out,” Miguel offers, and you decide to take him up on that offer.

After putting your clothes to wash, you meet Miguel in the living room. You find him inspecting something small in his hands, and upon hearing you join him, he turns fully to face you. He extends his arm out to you, offering a small device. You look at him and then back at the device with curiosity before you take the device from his hand.

“So you can have a digital suit on” Miguel explains. “It’s just a black and grey suit with a simple spider web design. I remember I had it from the early days just laying around in the office upstairs. That way your face can be covered just in case there’s civilians.”

Nodding, you inspect the small device before you smile at him. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. Definitely don’t want anyone to get any ideas about my identity.”

Miguel helps you set up the digital suit, telling you how to disengage it, which takes a few tries but eventually you get it. You can’t help but think of all the pros of having a digital suit as you look at your hands, reminding you of the time Miguel offered a new suit after he unintentionally ripped a bit from his accident several months ago. You grin at him once you disengage the mask.

“Very cool. I could get used to this, I think,” you tell him and he grins back.

“It’s nice having not to worry about washing a suit but there’s some cons,” he replies as he engages his, suddenly standing in his suit in the blink of an eye. He disengages the mask, still grinning at you. “Something could happen - a malfunction - and leave your identity exposed. I guess that’s really the big con. You could also accidentally break the chip, and well, you’re left with nothing, not even a malfunction to fix. It’s happened before,” he says with a frown, remembering the time it happened.

You chuckle softly at the way he frowns which makes him smile gently at you.

“You could also accidentally delete the file, or your AI assistant does it because she thinks it’s funny.”

“Lyla,” you say with an amused smile.

“Lyla,” Miguel repeats shaking his head. “I have these bags ready so we can transport things easier, at least when traveling the multiverse,” Miguel says showing you.

“Thank you, that’ll definitely make it easier to move some things around.”

“Great, you ready?”

Once you nod, Miguel opens a portal to your universe. The two of you step out onto a random rooftop before you make your way to your building. You look for a few minutes at the condition. It looks different in daylight and without the adrenaline pumping through your body. In daylight and with no smoke, you can see the true damage. You say nothing but both you and Miguel can see that reconstruction will take some time. At least two months or so, if you and the other tenants are lucky. The only thing that gives you hope is the fact that the building is stable, or it seems to be.

“It would’ve fallen by now if it was unstable, right?” you ask Miguel softly.

Sensing that you want some reassurance, Miguel gently nods, and thankfully he doesn’t have to lie. He’s sure that it would’ve already collapsed, or shown signs, if it was going to but your building stands firm. “I’m sure it would’ve. I also…” Miguel trails off as his eyes scan the sidewalk, looking for some kind of warning. “I don’t see any sign warning about it. And look, the street is functioning. Surely they would’ve blocked the entire thing. It seems to be stable.”

You nod as your own eyes sweep the area, finding no sign like Miguel said, which relieves you.

“Do you want to head inside?” Miguel asks, wondering if maybe you need more time.

“Yes.”

With that, the two of you sneak into the building. You walk down the hallway, finding doors opened like you left them earlier this morning when you were making sure that everyone was out. Miguel looks around, his nose immediately registering the smell of smoke even though this floor was spared from the fire. You push the door open to your apartment, finding it ajar, and enter with Miguel behind. You look around for a few seconds, the smell of smoke is definitely here even if it’s not as strong as it probably is on the floors below.

Miguel stands back, letting you assess the space. He knows how much this apartment means to you, and he can imagine what you must be feeling right now. He’s glad your floor is still standing at least, but this is still a sad situation he wishes you hadn’t experienced at all.

“Right,” you say with a sigh. You disengage your suit and pull out the list you created earlier from a pocket, engaging the suit again minus the mask. “The fridge and food are the first thing.”

“You tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it,” Miguel says behind you, not wanting to overstep.

“I’ll go through the fridge. Do you mind taking out the food from the cabinets there?” you ask politely, gesturing to some cabinets.

“Not at all. I’ll pack it up,” Miguel replies as the two of you head into the kitchen area of your apartment.

You begin working on the fridge, cleaning it out to avoid spoiled food, and packing away things like drinks and other items that should still be good. You eventually move to the top of the fridge where you store your cereal. It was where Peter always placed it, and you kept it there even after his passing.

Packing away some cans of food, Miguel looks up as you place a cereal box labeled Spider O’s into a bag, catching his attention. He didn’t know you had your own Spider-Woman cereal. He continues to work on clearing out your cabinets, deciding it’s a story for later.

With the two of you working together, it takes twenty minutes to clean the kitchen. Miguel takes care of your garbage while you move to other areas of your apartment, like your living room. You eventually move to your closet to pack more clothes and other necessities while Miguel takes what’s already packed to his dimension. As he leaves to take two bags, you remember you haven’t agreed to staying at his place beyond tonight, reminding you that you still need to discuss that. You let yourself think about it as you pack other items until Miguel returns. A few minutes later, you’re taking out clothes from the dryer when he arrives.

“Need help?”

“No, it’s alright. I got it. I was packing my detergents when I remembered I have clothes on both machines.”

Miguel nods as he hands you a laundry basket for the damp clothes. “We can put those to wash again, if you’d like. They might smell like smoke.”

”Yes, you’re right,” you reply as you start placing the clothes on the laundry basket.

Miguel picks up another bag, closing it carefully. “Are there other bags ready for me to take?”

You gesture to some bags that mostly contain your clothes. “Those right there. This is the last of everything, so I can take some of them, too.”

“I can carry them, don’t worry. If you want to look around and make sure you have everything, go ahead. Take your time,” Miguel says softly, wanting to emphasize that you don’t need to rush.

“Thank you. I’m doing a quick scan but - looking at my list, that should be it,” you say as you pull out your list once again. You check it, looking for anything you may have skipped but find nothing. “That’s it from my list, but I’ll do one more round just to make sure.”

With your laundry basket pressed against your hip, you walk around the apartment trying to see if there’s anything else that needs to be done. You’re certain you’ll be returning over the next few days just to check up on things - maybe even open the windows a little bit while you do patrols to let the smell of smoke out. At last, you feel satisfied and see nothing else to do or retrieve, at least not at this moment. You sigh softly, thinking. You want to go downstairs, to the floors that were directly affected, but you say nothing.

Miguel and you return to Nueva York, to his penthouse. When you step out onto Miguel’s living room, you spot the bags. They’re all neatly aligned against a wall, ready to be unpacked.

“I’ve put the bags with food at the kitchen. I went ahead and put what was refrigerated in the fridge, so you don’t have to worry about that. I figure the rest of the non-perishable food can be organized later.”

“That sounds great, thank you,” you reply giving Miguel a warm smile. “You’ve helped me so much. I really appreciate it.”

“Always,” Miguel replies with a soft smile before he glances at the bags. “We organize those when we’re back?” You stare at him with curiosity, so he continues. “You want to look at the building, right? I’d like to go with you, just to make sure you’re safe. There may be loose debris.”

“You know me too well,” you reply, which makes Miguel smile once again. “I do want to look. Maybe it’s silly of me but, I’d like to for some reason.”

“It’s not silly,” Miguel says as he engages his mask again. “I’d want to do the same thing, so I understand completely. Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m ready.”

🕸️🕸️🕸️

Miguel and you step over debris once you find yourselves on the main floor where the fire started. As Miguel predicted, there are loose wooden boards hanging from the ceiling in some areas. There are holes in the floor and what is left standing is damaged. You warn Miguel to be careful as you head to the first apartment you were in earlier this morning. Looking around, there are signs that this apartment had it worse than other areas, leading you to believe that this is where the fire started for sure.

“This was the first apartment I came into. The apartment belongs to the young women.”

“It seems to be in the worst condition,” Miguel says as he inspects a wooden board.

“I was thinking that, too,” you reply as you move about, careful not to hurt yourself. You keep an eye on Miguel as well, especially knowing that he doesn’t have a spidey sense, so he doesn’t end up injured.

You check what’s left of a wall, not really having a purpose for being here other than seeing the damage up close for yourself. You inspect the wall before moving away, your eyes scanning what’s left of burnt items. Your gaze stops on exposed wires, catching your attention immediately. Upon closer inspection, without touching, you read the label on them. Something about the brand’s name reminds you of something, but you can’t pinpoint it in this moment.

“What did you find?” Miguel asks standing next to you now, finding you gazing closely at something.

“Some wires. I think this is what’s left of a string of lights. I was just thinking how the brand’s name sounds familiar but I can’t remember from where,” you say with a shrug.

Miguel takes a look at it. Something about it also strikes him but he, too, cannot pinpoint it.

“OBRN.”

“OBRN,” you repeat but shake your head. “I’m probably overthinking, but finding this and seeing the state of this one apartment does seem like the fire started here. I guess we’ll have to see.”

Miguel frowns at what’s left of the string of lights, wondering how the tag survived the fire but dropping the topic for your sake. Despite resting during the morning, Miguel is sure this is still exhausting, if not physically, at least mentally and emotionally.

“Yeah, I guess we’ll have to wait,” he replies as you turn away, quickly typing something onto his gizmo before he follows you.

You sigh softly and nod at Miguel. “This is definitely going to take some time,” you murmur more to yourself than Miguel, sadness and disbelief laced in your tone.

Miguel detects it and stands next to you, trying to provide some comfort with his presence. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers. “The building will be fully functional in no time, I’m sure.”

Smiling once again, you nod at Miguel’s words. “Yes… You’re right. Everything will be okay,” you state, embracing those words.

The two of you stand there for a few minutes in silence. You decide it’s time to go as you feel a breeze hit your unmasked face, causing you to shiver and remember winter just started.

“Do you want to head back?” Miguel asks, noticing the breeze and the way you shivered.

“Yeah, I think it’s time. It’s getting colder,” you reply.

“It is,” Miguel answers as he opens a portal for the two of you, finding it safe to do so in this space.

The two of you head back to Nueva York, which makes you realize Miguel has traveled from your universe to his multiple times today just to help you. As you travel between universes, you tell yourself you’ll bake something for him in the next few days as a way to show your appreciation for all his help and support. Once in Nueva York, you put a load of clothes to wash since most of your clothes smell like smoke. You also put your suit and the other clothes you had on this morning to dry with Miguel’s gentle encouraging to make yourself at home and to feel comfortable using the penthouse however you need to.

Afterwards, Miguel helps you organize the food that was brought from your home, finding cabinets to store it at without messing his kitchen organization, something you were worried about. Of course, Miguel didn’t mind at all.

After a little break and showering again because of the smell of smoke, the two of you move upstairs to your bedroom for the evening. You’ve made your mind up but there’s some things you want to talk about with Miguel, points you hope to discuss later.

In the meantime, you and Miguel fix the bedroom. You set up your personal hygiene products on the dresser while Miguel safely unpacks your records and places them on the bookshelf. You proceed to place Peter’s record player on the desk for now and other items that belonged to him on the bookshelf.

As you do that, Miguel moves towards a box he remembers carrying here earlier in the morning. He doesn’t know what’s in it but he carefully picks it up and asks where he should place it.

“That’s Peter’s… belongings,” you reply softly as you stare at the box.

Miguel notices your lingering gaze, the way it softens. He gently offers it to you, figuring that you want to handle this box personally. You smile at him with respect and endearment, and surprisingly, shake your head.

“I trust you with it. I’m not opening it right now. I haven’t opened it in… some time, to be honest,” you reveal, holding one of Peter’s belongings. “I think it can go under the desk for now. Thank you, Miguel.”

He nods with a soft smile, feeling touched that you trust him with this box knowing how much Peter and his belongings mean to you. He proceeds to place the box under the desk, carefully, before moving on to something else.

At last, the two of you are done. You both sit on the bed and look around the room, seeing the progress. All throughout the process of fixing up the bedroom, you’ve been keeping track of the laundry, a chore you decide to tackle tomorrow when you realize it’s been a few hours since you and Miguel headed to your universe. There’s also the fact that you haven’t done a patrol at your universe, something that nags you.

Looking around the room, you notice how this feels like “your” room now. There’s Peter’s record player on the desk and your technology devices. Your personal hygiene products and other accessories are on the dresser. Some of your pictures are displayed on floating shelves, some of which include Miguel.

“Thank you for helping me set up,” you tell Miguel quietly.

He nods, looking at some of the photos. “Always,” he says turning his gaze towards you.

You grin at him before you check the time on your gizmo. “I’m going to - head out for a little bit. To patrol,” you explain. “I didn’t do my morning patrol, and it feels weird.”

“Understandably,” Miguel replies. “It’s just for today though. You’ll fall back into your routine, I’m sure of it.” Miguel turns to the window, noticing the sun has almost disappeared for the day before he returns his gaze to you. “I’ll be here if you need anything during your patrol. Take it easy, okay?”

“I will,” you reply with a small grin before you stand up. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Miguel nods watching you leave the bedroom and sitting in the room for a little while, thinking about dinner.

You head to your universe and patrol, feeling some sense of normalcy as you do this. You fly around your city, making your usual stops and feeling more at ease. Your night patrol makes you feel better as you swing between buildings and cars below, even when you think about Peter and his words from the dream. You give a silent thank you to him, finding his words soothing. Fortunately, you find no trouble or emergency, so you decide to head back to Nueva York an hour later, knowing you’ll still be able to know if something does happen.

It’s then that you receive a notification from Miguel telling you that he’s buying dinner and that he’ll wait for you on a rooftop, which makes you wonder for a few seconds before he sends coordinates. You head to Nueva York, traveling directly to the rooftop Miguel told you, realizing it’s a round building. You step out and look around, finding no one. You walk to the edge of the rooftop, looking at the nearby buildings and streets below in hopes of spotting Miguel. It takes you a few seconds but you eventually sense his presence through your spidey senses, or at least you believe it’s him. As you look around, you finally spot his suit as he swings from building to building with one arm while he holds things in the other.

He reaches you in no time, landing gently on the rooftop. His mask disengages as he approaches you.

“How did it go?” he asks.

“It went well,” you reply. “No encounters. It was peaceful.”

“That’s good,” Miguel says as he hands you a to-go cup. “I’m glad you had no trouble, especially after today.”

You thank him for the drink and nod. For some reason, it feels like it’s been days since the fire, as if it wasn’t this morning when you woke up and realized your building was on fire. You sigh quietly, chalking it up to the fact that it has been a long day.

“I hope you don’t mind but I bought tacos. There’s this great place in downtown and they make the best. I would say they have the best ones in Nueva York, really, and I thought after everything that it’d be nice to just eat out. Gabriel also used to say there’s nothing like tacos to lift someone’s spirits,” Miguel says with a soft smile as he gestures for you to join him.

You smile back and follow him as he reaches the edge of the rooftop. He places the bags on the ground before he sits down, his legs danging off the building. You look around for a few seconds before you join him, the bags between the two of you now. You watch as he pulls out boxes from a bag before he spreads the empty bag on the floor, and then placing the boxes over it so the boxes don’t make contact with the ground.

“That’s agua de horchata. I was going to get you agua de Jamaica but - the place is known for their agua de horchata, so I figured why not,” Miguel explains as he hands you a straw.

You grin and accept the straw before you try the drink, and of course, it’s amazing. “I can see why. It’s so good!”

Smiling, Miguel hands you napkins. “I thought you’d like it. On the tacos, I order a few of each since I didn’t know what kind you wanted, and I didn’t want to distract you while you were patrolling, so I thought this was a good option.” Miguel puts his straw into his cup, thinking. He’s telling a half-truth. He could’ve sent you a quick message about your order but he truly didn’t want to disturb you. He knows today has been a long day, not only because of the fire itself but the aftermath, too, with packing and taking care of the little things like the fridge and the food. He hoped that nothing came up at your universe so you could have a moment of peace, at least. Thankfully, it seems that it went well since he can see that you’re in good spirits. The other reason why he didn’t reach out about the food is because he wanted to surprise you.

He got the idea after you left and he remained in the bedroom, thinking about dinner. Being in Gabriel’s old room, Miguel remembered what his brother used to say about tacos, about how they could cheer people up. It was always his way to cheer up Miguel when he was stressed out, even back when Miguel was in college. Gabriel always joked that it was his love language, which always made Miguel laugh. He never dared to disagreed with the younger O’Hara on that.

Miguel focuses on the now as the two of you set up the salsas and lime slices to use on your tacos. Once that’s settled, the eating begins. You grab from one kind and Miguel from another, discussing how amazing the tacos are. Miguel tells you to try a salsa, while you tell him to try another one.

Despite the cold weather, the two of you enjoy your food and conversation on the rooftop, eventually talking about other things like your friends. The conversation about them leads you to remember their messages, which you read earlier, and the gifts they sent. You remind yourself to check the gifts once Miguel and you return to his place. At some point the conversation shifts and Miguel is telling you more about Nueva York. He tells you about the buildings around you before he tells you about the stores that can be found in Nueva York’s downtown. He mentions the public libraries, parks, and the Lunar Train, thinking to himself that he hasn’t been to those places in years but that it’d be nice to visit again. He looks at you when he thinks about that - an idea forming in his head but one he doesn’t voice. Not yet, anyway.

After eating, you thank Miguel for the amazing tacos. He asks which ones were your favorites, just so he knows for future reference before you both fall into a comfortable and peaceful silence, drinking from your cups with agua de horchata. Your gazes take in the skyline of Nueva York at night, a sight you’re not used to but one that you love and appreciate when you have the opportunity to. You silently think about how beautiful Nueva York is before you look down, noticing you must be about fifty thousand feet in the air.

Miguel continues to observe the skyline before his eyes move higher up, finding a sky sprinkled with stars. He feels at ease, comfortable like he always does when you’re in his presence. He takes another drink from his cup, thinking. You’ve settled in and things have been taken care off at your apartment for the time being but there’s still something pending. Something neither of you have brought up. He holds on to his cup, still looking at the sky. Should he bring it up now? Should he wait?

Miguel doesn’t want you to feel like he’s pressuring you to stay, or for you to take him asking as a sign that he doesn’t want you to when in reality, it’s the opposite. He hopes you stay at his place so you’re not staying at a hotel with limitations. Plus, he doesn’t like the idea of you staying alone at a hotel, even if he knows that you can take care of yourself. He sighs quietly as he stares at the stars, silently debating. He feels some peace knowing you’ll at least stay at his place for tonight, maybe even the weekend, too.

You look up from the ground and stare at the sky, noticing twinkling stars. You enjoy the sight as you start thinking about how your friends offered a place for you to stay at, especially the Morales family. You’re grateful for your friends and their loved ones who were also worried about you but you politely declined. Everyone lives with someone already whether that’s with parents, spouses, or other friends, like Hobie, so you felt that it would be too much of an inconvenience. The gesture makes you incredibly grateful, however. You have loving and supportive friends.

“What are you thinking about?” Miguel asks softly.

You grin. “Honestly? About how everyone has offered me a place to stay in the meantime.” Your gaze drops to Nueva York’s skyline again, feeling Miguel’s eyes on you. “And how I’m so thankful I have all of you. It really means a lot to me. So much,” you say with a soft sigh. “Perhaps I was naive, but I never imagined this happening and - much less without Peter, you know? I’m just… I’m really happy - and so thankful - that I’m not alone,” you confess, turning to face Miguel at last.

Meeting your gaze, Miguel smiles gently, understanding what you mean. He’s glad that you’re not alone anymore, which is something that still bothers him. He hates thinking about how you spent so many years on your own. As time has gone by, Miguel has found himself wondering about those years. Did you ever get sick? Did you ever find yourself unwell because of your period like you did the first time he ever went to your apartment? There were other things he thought about, like the first year without Peter when you had already cut ties with friends. Who was there for you? Who looked after you? Who comforted you?

Miguel knows there was no one, and it bothers him deeply. So much, that he still wishes he would’ve found your universe sooner, even thought you told him a while ago that he found you at the “right” time. His uneasy thoughts about this are soothed by the fact that those days are over for you. You have friends - a little family - that loves and supports you.

And he, thankfully, is part of it.

“You’re not alone,” Miguel says, stating it as a fact. “You have so many people that love and support you. We’re all here for you - the way you’re always here for us.”

You smile brighter at that. “Thanks to the Spider Society,” you say softly. “You know - I can’t believe I declined Jess’s invitation at first.”

Miguel grins, chuckling quietly. “I think I remember you saying multiple times, too.”

“I did. And she came back and asked me again, until she finally convinced me by asking me what Peter would’ve thought.” Your smile softens at the thought of him, your sweet Peter. You turn to the sky, thinking that if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be here now. Even in death, Peter has guided and supported you throughout the years.

You think about your dream from this morning, how he warned you about the fire. or at least, it seems so. A warmth spreads throughout your chest as you turn to Miguel. If it wasn’t for Peter, you wouldn’t be here now, next to one of your closest friends. You silently thank Peter.

As to Miguel, he gazes at you, noticing that soft look on your face as you think about the man he never had the opportunity to meet. Despite never meeting the man, Miguel also silently thanks Peter for being the reason you joined the Spider Society - for having you in his life now.

You sigh and smile at Miguel. “I want to negotiate some terms.”

Miguel’s eyebrows raise at this but he quickly realizes what you’re talking about. He gives you a small but playful smirk before he turns his body to you, pulling one of his legs inside and close to his body while leaving the other one still dangling off the rooftop. “Let’s hear these terms then.”

You mirror his position, leaving enough space between each other to place your drinks. “Okay, well first of all - you said not to worry about bills or rent, or even groceries.”

“That’s correct.”

“I realize I cannot help with bills or rent because of our different currency.”

“Yes, and there’s no way for us to convert it either,” Miguel replies all too happily about this.

You playfully glare at him, which only serves to amuse him more. “Yet. We should find a way to do that, to be honest but - as to right now, there’s no way. However, I can buy groceries.”

Miguel saves your idea about establishing a currency conversion system for the future. It might be something fun for the Spider Society. He briefly realizes that he’s into this idea, which makes him recognize that he has shut down other members’ ideas in the past. He wonders.

Is it that he has changed his mind because of the years and his progress in moving forward, or is it because it’s coming from you? He doesn’t have much time to think of it, and he decides maybe it’s for the better, at least for now, before he addresses your statement about buying groceries. “No, you don’t have to do that. I told you this morning that I’ll take care of that. The only thing, food wise, that you need to worry about is if it’s something that’s not available here. Everything else, I got it.”

“But Miguel -” you start, pausing and releasing a gentle but frustrated sigh. “I know I can’t help with bills and rent but please let me help with this. I know you’re being generous - supportive but I don’t want to just, you know. Stay there for however long this will take or however long it’s okay for me to stay-”

“I’m not kicking you out,” Miguel says, losing his smirk for a few seconds. Now he’s the one frustrated. “I wouldn’t be offering if I was planning on asking you to leave at some point. You can stay there for however you need, or want to,” Miguel explains.

“Thank you,” you reply softly. “But that means, it might be a little while, and you’re already being so kind by letting me stay with you. I can’t - just stay there and not contribute somehow.”

“You can, you just don’t want to,” Miguel says gently, earning himself a playful glare again. He grins. “Alright, what are suggesting then?”

“I want to help with groceries, and other ways. I know it’ll be tricky with the groceries, and I don’t have a good plan yet but I want to contribute,” you reply.

Miguel chuckles softly, finding it both endearing and amusing when you admit not having a plan yet, but still wanting to contribute. Understanding where you are coming from, Miguel nods at last. He knows you’re an independent woman in all aspects and you’ve probably become even more so since you’ve lost Peter. He understands that you feel the need to do something, to contribute. He realizes he’s been the same way for years - always trying to be independent. Miguel silently wonders if maybe, this temporary change will help the two of you relearn that some forms of dependency are not bad.

“I understand wanting to contribute somehow and I’ll respect it, even though I want you to know that I mean it when I say you don’t have to worry about these things… What I’m trying to say is that, you don’t need to worry about some kind of payment, Y/N. If it was me, you would be telling me the same thing. I know it,” Miguel replies. “I’ll be more than happy to cook for the two of us, but I also know that on some days you might want to eat something that I don’t know how to cook, so you can buy groceries if you wish but,” Miguel pauses and shrugs, grinning softly. “We could always plan meals. If you want to, of course. Or, have days where we cook something individually, which I’ll always make a plate for you just in case you want to try it. We can think of something, I’m sure of it. We’re not strangers, we’re…” Miguel trails off and nods at you. “You would do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” you reply quickly, without hesitation.

“Then, you understand. I don’t want any kind of payment. I don’t want you to worry about bills or contributing somehow. I just want you to feel at home as much as possible. I know it’s not the same as your apartment, as your universe but that’s my hope. I understand you want to do something though, so I’ll respect it. We can think of something as the days go by if it makes you feel better,” he offers gently.

“I’d like that. I don’t want this to feel like…” you trail off. “I’m taking advantage of you.”

Miguel shakes his head and smiles, reassuringly. “You’re not. You could never. I’m the one offering, and I’m doing it willingly and happily. I just want to help as much as I can. The same way you would help me.”

You sigh softly and nod. “Alright.”

“So, do we have a deal? Are you open to staying in Nueva York for the meantime?”

You hold Miguel’s gaze and nod. “Yes.”

“Good,” Miguel answers happily, relieved.

“Thank you,” you add gently.

“Always.”

The two of you smile at each other for a few seconds before turning to look at Nueva York’s skyline once again in silence, enjoying the rest of your agua de horchata under a star sprinkled sky.

_________

Next Part - Valentine's One-Shot Translations of Spanish words: Mierda - Shit Dios - God Ternura - endearment, tenderness Flautas - literally translates to "flute"; a deep fried tortilla with meat filling and topped with various toppings like cabbage, salsa, fresh cheese Agua de Jamaica - hibiscus tea Agua de Horchata - sweet Latin beverage, mainly made out of rice _________ A/N: Hi, guys!! First update of the year!! I hope January has treated all of you well! 🥰 I'm sorry for the delayed update. I got caught up with some things after the holidays, and then decided to take a little break from social media and writing, so that delayed the update a little bit. I'm so happy that I got the update out before the end of the month though! What do we think, though? WE'RE STAYING AT MIGUEL'S PLACE!! 🥺 And he's so sweet about making you (us) feel at home (not me fangirling about my own work but it's Miguel)!! I just - I love him!! And Miguel being opened to more physical contact? He's moving forward!! 🥹 I hope you guys enjoyed this part!! I also want to give @sunsetdoodler credit and a shoutout for the Spider O's cereal! She included it in this fanart many months ago and I loved it so much I wanted to include it at some point. It'll show up again in the future for sure! Thank you @sunsetdoodler !! Your support means so much to me!! ❤️ Also, shoutout to Ana, or @faretheeoscar who led me to give a bit of a sneak peek about something that will happen in the future thanks to her "Promise Me Miguel" AU based on a dream she had (I wish I could dream of Miguel and our Peter 😭)!! I also want to mention, once again, that there's so much fanart that has been created for this fic by incredible and talented artists!! Please go and check it out, and show some love to the artists!! ❤️ You can find all fanart here - under the "Nonviolent Communication" header! Thank you guys for reading and supporting this story!! It means so, SO MUCH to me!! I truly appreciate all the support - from the reblogs to the comments and likes; to the asks about songs some of you have connected to the story to little scenarios and your thoughts on the story!! I'm always surprised to see that you guys think of the story in your daily life - like, you guys actually think about it? It always makes my day!!! 😭

I'm truly so grateful for all the amazing support this story has received so far, and I hope you all enjoy the rest of it!! 🥺 Thank you guys!!! I hope the beginning of February treats you well!! ❤️ -Alondra

Taglist: @loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1 @darksidescorner@geminis93 @1800-get-alife @hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss

[kooldewd123]

I haven't been checking in with the wider Gravity Falls fandom since I've been trying to do a lot of my own analysis so forgive me if this is something that's already been discussed a lot, but this one thing in particular has been really sticking in my mind. Typing "gun" or "oh yes they both" into the terminal provides these two responses:

These are lyrics from the musical Chicago, specifically the song "We Both Reached For The Gun." Here's a clip of the song from the movie adaptation, for reference:

Two immediate things to note here. First, the scene uses heavy puppetry imagery, and the importance of that in relation to Bill should be obvious. And if that wasn't enough, the character actually doing the puppeteering is named Billy. Frankly, that could quite likely be where this reference begins and ends and everything I say from this point onward might be me overthinking this. This could simply be another joke response like "McGucket" just leading to the music video for Cotton Eyed Joe or "Gideon" giving a Google search for sweat resistant bolo ties. What makes this one seem different to me is that unlike those examples, it stays in the terminal and doesn't link to an external site. You wouldn't understand the joke without already knowing the song (honestly, I didn't understand it myself until the previously linked video coincidentally came up in my YouTube recommended feed a few days later), not to mention that the prompts to find it are entirely self-contained as well.

Digging into the song itself, it's a very interesting choice to reference here (Quick disclaimer: I haven't seen this musical before, and most of my research has been fairly cursory, so please correct me if I get something wrong). The context here is that Roxie (the girl being puppeteered) killed the man she was having an affair with when he tried to leave her. In this song, Billy, her lawyer, rewrites the story so that the man was instead a jealous ex threatening her life. Him and Roxie "both reached for the gun," and the murder was actually an act of self-defense. Because of this spin, the false story of Roxie being a sympathetic hero ends up overtaking the reality that she's just a vindictive killer. And the weirdest part is... this kinda mirrors Bill's backstory that we learn about in the Book of Bill? We never solidly find out the truth of what happened to Euclydia. What information we have is at best heavily biased and at worst outright censored. Did Bill truly want to help his dimension or is that just a justification he came up with after the fact? We don't know. We're the reporters in this song, the people who have nothing but the word of the perpetrator to go off of. And I... don't really know what conclusion to make of this. Like, the broad strokes of the two stories are very similar in their themes, but whenever I try to look at the details, they don't map onto each other as well as I'd like. Roxie seems much more unrepentant than Bill, and Bill seems much less, stable? i guess? than Roxie. I really feel like there might be something it's trying to say about Bill here, but whatever it is, it's eluding me.

[tarosunshine]

Boynextdoor 0t6: Earth,Wind, & Fire being about you or certain lyrics are directed to you (I hope this makes sense 😭)

ִ ۫ ⭒ GIRL, YOU ARE ، ، 보이넥스트도어

𓈒 𝒢enre fluff angst ֢ warnings cheating . boynextdoor fem! reader ، ، i hope this is what you were thinking (or kinda) ⸝⸝ ⌕ ﹙ archιvᥱs ﹚

sungho  ۫ ੭

take my breath away like magic, you're the show. i feel so mad.

sunghon wasn't somebody who was interested in dating people, but when you appeared in his life, you took his breath away. every time he saw you, his heart started to pound, his mind stared to think how it would be to be your boyfriend. his hands became so sweaty, and all that made him feel so mad. he doesn't want to feel this for you. you are his friend, and because of that, sungho is not going to confess.

riwoo  ۫ ੭

you ain't just a girlfriend. that ain't enough, no.

riwoo loves you so much. you being his girlfriend it's the best thing that happenedd to him, his words. he likes to take you on dates, buy you things, although you tell him there it's no need to, and loves to appreciate all of you. ahh, he could pass all day admiring you. the feeling he hid for the past few years was finally something mutual, and the happiness and love he feel it's just too much. you ain't just a girlfriend. that ain't enough, no. you're his everything; his friend, his lover, his confident, the girl that inspires him and his songs.

jaehyun  ۫ ੭

yeah, i wanna hold her hand, a gentleman, you know that we could be golden.

you, the girl that it's on the same group friend, the girl he likes, his friend. jaehyun just doesn't know what to do anymore. every time he sees he just wants to hold your hand, make you laugh. and he hates the fact that the boy next to you is not enough for you. it's an asshole that makes you cry and suffer. and jaehyun, as your friend, it's always by your side, trying to cheer you up and distracting you from the bad thoughts. but he just doesn't understand why you're still there, by the side of that stupid boy. all he can do is stay there, as your best friend.

leehan  ۫ ੭

you are my fire, my wind, you are my flower. you are all that i desire and i need you more.

since that day of elementary school, when you told leehan that you liked fishes, he started liking you, just simply like that. so since he was a kid, you have been the person that he adores the most. all he thinks is you and fishes. he's always around you. he had always been from that day. you're his world, and he it's yours. you're all that he needs to be happy, but he doesn't dimensions the immense love that he has for you. all this time thinking that feeling was just friends love.

taesan  ۫ ੭

you're my darling, right? are you playing my heart?

the rumors of you having another boy reached taesan. you two have a kinda of a situationship but he was sure that he would be your boyfriend, he liked you a lot. so, when some friends told him that they saw you holding hands with some blonde dude, his heart breaked. you were just paying with it. i mean, he knew that you two wasn't something, but he thought that maybe it was. it seems like it wasn't like that.

woonhak  ۫ ੭

tell me that you want me, just say yes, oh, oh, oh.

woonhak knows since a couple of weeks ago that you like him, so all he does is bother you, not telling directly that he knows. he just likes to see how you got all flushed and shy about his comments, but you stand to him anyway. like the other day when he was bothering you again when just were the two of you, and you finally said to him that you liked him, and it was his turn to be flushed and stutter.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

A Twist of Fate: No Hard Feelings**^

Thank you everyone for your patience. Here is Part 2 to this star-crossed lovers story. This part really focuses on the break down of the relationships so it can be angsty. Part 3 will be the last one in this short series. READ PART ONE

Series Masterlist

Warnings: sexism, unprotected sex, argumentative and rocky relationships, drug and alcohol use, break ups

WC: 16K

…. JANUARY 2024 ….

The holiday season had been interesting for you and Sebastian. You had gone over to his family’s for the festivities and it was interesting to say the least. You felt like you had transitioned into a weird dystopian dimension after that first dinner.

Seb’s mom wanted his first meal back to be his favorite home cooked meal, a green enchilada casserole; he had been talking about it since you’d left LA. So were excited to try it, so when dinner time came and his mom, Renee, started to serve up a plate of food, you followed suit and she gave you a knowing smile. It confused you but you finished up and followed after her to the table. When Seb glanced up at you with a smile your brows furrowed in confusion; you weren’t sure why Seb was just sitting at the table if he was so excited about this meal? But soon enough you were in front of your seat and set your plate down and then sat. You glanced up when you realized it had grown uncomfortably quiet and everyone was looking at you. When your eyes met Renee’s, she was frozen with the plate she had served her husband laid on the place mat before him. It was then that you noticed that this was not a self-serve situation, you were the only woman at the table and the ladies were serving their husbands before they could sit to eat.

You were mortified. You hadn’t grown up like that, your parents were very lax with gender expectations and roles, your mom wasn’t in charge of cooking and cleaning up after your dad. They were both working so much that they both did everything to keep the household running. Besides, you had never served Sebastian his food. You had cooked for him plenty of times and sure he never cleaned up after himself (unless asked), but he had always fixed his own plates so you had no idea why he would expect it now. It was even more awkward when his sister came in right behind you just moments later and placed a plate of food before him.

“Thanks, Amy.” He smiled and she nodded and looked at you briefly, you swore there was judgement in her eyes, and then everything picked back up again.

After, that it was just awkward and tense. Seb’s mom stepped up the babying for the rest of the trip. You were shocked the amount of work this woman did for her husband and Seb. You started doing the same to blend in, but it had been too late. Christmas Day at lunch, you were heading to the kitchen to offer your help with anything when you overheard his sisters and mother talking to maybe their aunts or other cousins saying how they had all been telling Seb how selfish you were and that you couldn’t take care of him how he needed. It was impressive that just from that one incident they had already discarded you and started shit talking you to Sebastian and others. You were glad when you finally got to leave and get back to LA, but it had been days now and you were still a bit in your head.

“Hey, babe.” Seb hummed as he came into your bedroom.

“Hi.” You offered a smile before glancing back down to your sudoku book. You felt the bed dip and glanced up to see him climbing onto the bed, heading over to your side.

“How was your day?” He asked.

“It was fine. Yours?” You asked as you put down a ‘9’ in it’s designed box.

“Finished another song today, think this will be the single. It has good energy.”

“That’s good.” You hummed as you glanced up at him and when he saw he had your undivided attention he got going. Sebastian started talking about all the things they’d done and how he got inspiration for new lyrics… He’d been talking at you for an hour already, it was nearly midnight and you were tired. Then, in the middle of his story you had the urge to yawn and you did. “Oh sorry, am I boring you?” He asked with irritation and you frowned.

“No, I just yawned. S’late. I was up at 5:30am for that stupid yoga class.” You explained to him and he frowned.

“You’re being weird.” He said.

“What?”

“Ever since we got back you’ve been off.” he said and you sighed. You supposed you should just get your concerns off your chest now.

“OK, so I ummm…I overheard your mom and sisters talking shit about me on Christmas.” You said and he frowned, “And I know they were talking about me to other people and to you.” You said.

“And?” He asked, “I mean, what did you expect after that first night?” He asked you.

“What’d you say when they talked to you about me after that?”

“Nothing…just heard ‘em out. It’s better to not argue with them about their opinions.”

“And is that…is that how you expect me to be?”

“Well, I get that’s not how you grew up. Trust me, meeting your family was a culture shock for me too. But we'll get there. With a little training.” He joked, but it was ill timed, “They know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me when we’re on more serious turf.” He assured you.

“Ummm…I don’t exactly know what you mean by that.” You said as you straightened up a bit and raised your glasses up to your head. You set your book down as well to really just ensure all of your senses were in tune as you had this conversation.

“I mean that once I move in here we’ll get you to a stage where you’ll feel more comfortable assuming the more traditional feminine role in the house.” He said and you were shocked to hear him say this.

“Traditional feminine- OK, I hope this is not what I’m thinking…”

“And what’s that?”

“You want me to wait on you like that? Like your mom and sisters?” 

“It’s called acts of service.” He countered.

“Babe, i-if I just sat here all day and did nothing outside of the house, then sure! I’d do work here. Your laundry and iron, clean up after you, and fucking spoon feed you if I wanted to. But you also forget one big thing, Seb. This is my house. My name alone is on the mortgage and every other expense. You should be cleaning up after yourself in my house, especially if you invite yourself over for days at a time!” You raised your voice in frustration. 

He looked so offended by what you’d said but this was something that had been frustrating you for quite a while now. Of course you wanted him over, but he just took over your space. He’d stay for days and disrupt everything, like sleep in later than you and not do the bed. Eat and pile up dishes in the sink, he’d leave his dirty laundry and towels on the ground, and he left cups everywhere! But what was most annoying was that he’d leave everything to you. And when you’d call him out on it he’d get it together for a couple days and then go back to his old ways. At first you thought it was just laziness but after spending 10 days with his family you saw that it wasn’t just laziness. Seb had an expectation that you’d soon be doting after him at all times and keeping a nice home for his comfort. He knew that if he’d left a mess you’d eventually grow tired of it and clean it up for him, which was true. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t gripe about it, but he expected that to diminish and soon become extinct the longer you were together. That was concerning to you and you suddenly found yourself seeing him in a completely different light.

“Well, sorry for taking up your space.” He muttered bitterly as he rolled off the bed and made his way out of your bedroom. 

You didn’t stop him from going, you heard the front door lock and that was that. You hadn’t seen this type of attitude from him before, he had never shared those expectations with you before so you were quite shocked to hear him say that and you still hadn’t quite processed everything he’d said. You immediately called Caitlyn and told her all about your trip and now this.

“…Oh my god, so he’s a chauvinist!” Caitlyn gasped and you hummed.

“I just can’t believe this…I mean if this is really what he expects of me then I can’t be in  this relationship. Of course I believe in doing things, acts of service for your partner, but what he wants is a maid, mother, and lover wrapped up in one! No…just no.” you sighed.

“I agree. I mean, it’s good it’s only been a bit, yeah?”

“I guess so…” you sighed, “I just can’t believe this.” You muttered, your brain felt like it was about to overheat.

“I mean, he’s from a red state, friend. What did you expect?” Caitlyn said joking and then you both sputtered on a laugh. “So…what’re you thinking then?”

“I’m thinking that…” You sighed, “I saw how his mom was with his dad…I couldn’t live like that.” You explained. “I want to feel like I have a partner, not a boss at home. I can’t be with someone like that. I can’t.”

“Yeah.” Caitlyn said in understanding, “I mean, if that’s truly how he is then it’s for the best to just let this go.”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t end well.” You agreed “I think we both need to cool off a bit and then talk about it.” You said with a sigh and she agreed with you. 

You were in a shit mood now and had wandered into the kitchen to grab yourself a bottle of wine and some of those Trader Joes takis. You were soon back in bed and watching a movie as you got drunk and ate your chips. You had a moment of weakness…and against your better judgement you now went on instagram and searched up Harry. You just wanted to see him going about his day, you missed him and knew he’d be so supportive right now, even seeing his smile would be comforting enough. But what you saw coming up had your heart stirring with envy instead of a fuzzy and warm feeling. 

For the first time you felt entirely un-special to him. Just four years prior you’d been at the same fucking Anguillian resort frolicking about on the beaches, lazing around in cabanas, getting day drunk on fruity cocktails, and making love to your hearts content. But there he was again but with another person this time. Well, not just any person, his girlfriend, and it was making your blood boil. Was nothing sacred to this man? Did he have to recycle every single thing to lure another person in? 

And then you clicked on a post and decided to just see it all and you sighed as you looked through the images of him, so gorgeously tan and buff swimming in the ocean and the final image was of her getting her pictures taken on the sand while he enjoyed the warmth of the Caribbean Sea.

“She’s not even getting in the water with you?!” You nearly shouted at your phone, “What a fucking waste of a vacation!” You grumbled. “I would get in the water with you.” You mumbled drunkenly, “No, no…I did! We went there and I did get in the water with you, no one could get us out!” You said as your tears started to streak down your face, “And we did take pictures too, a lot of them. But we went to have fun, not just to take pictures at sunset like influencers who’d never been to a beach before…” you said bitterly and then frowned.

“OK, but she’s so pretty of course she’s having her fucking picture taken instead of getting in the water with you.” You sighed in defeat. “Also it’s her fucking vacation too, so she can do what she wants with her time…” you said to yourself, rationalizing her choices and deciding not to take out your frustration with Seb on her. “I’m not being a girl’s girl right now.” You scolded yourself for your harsh judgements. 

You didn’t even know each other so you had no idea how she was or what her intentions could be at all. But if Harry was with her then she had to be nice and sweet, something that you just weren’t any more. You weren’t being nice when you kissed Harry despite you both being in relationships. You weren’t nice or sweet when you blew up on Sebastian earlier and felt and thought bad things about his family. Instead you were full of spite and sadness. You felt stuck in a loop of negativity that would never end. You were lost, but you didn’t want to be. You wanted to be like you were when you were with Harry. Happy, confident, full of hope…you wanted that back. You were crying so hard and were so drunk after having half a bottle of wine that you just tuckered yourself out.

********

“Tempt fate with me, love. Just one more time.” You heard Harry’s voice purring lowly. You were covered in goosebumps as you nodded, noses nudging lightly.

“OK.” You agreed easily.

“Yeah?” He asked you, grinning wide.

“Yeah.” You agreed happily. 

And then your lips met eagerly with some lingering hesitation. But after your eyes met it completely disappeared and your lips were joining again. And then you were on his lap and his hands were fighting not to grab you in places he shouldn’t, but his resolve melted away quickly and was guiding you over his lap, letting you feel his evident need for you. 

Suddenly you glanced down at him and he was naked except his briefs and you were too, just your bra and panties, both of you impatient and fighting to not take it to the next level. You felt harry’s fingers gliding up your back, right up to the clasp of your bra but not daring to remove it, instead opting to just lose himself in your kisses.

“Just…mmm, wanna touch you, baby.” He whined into your lips.

“Then touch me.” You whispered back.

“Can I? Can I really?” He hummed and you nodded. He was quick to unclasp your bra and bring his hands forward to cup your breasts. When his kisses trailed down to your chest, you leaned back and let him lick at your nipple teasingly before just sucking your perked up little bud between his lips. You were getting so wet for him, grinding down harder and with more intent.

“Please…I need you. I’ve missed you.” You whimpered and he grinned up at you.

“I’ve missed you too. So fucking much.” He said quietly, “What if he comes home and-”

“Then we should be quick.” You panted and he nodded. Magically, his briefs were gone and he was guiding his hard, thick length to your entrance, holding it up so that you could sit over him and get him inside of you, “Can I?”

“Please. Yes, go.” He rushed out and you both moaned in ecstasy and relief at being connected this way once again. 

You rode him slowly, getting used to feeling him deep in your guts like this from how big he was. He was panting and kissing at your neck, his fingers gripping your ass tight as he helped you move over him in ways that were beneficial to the both of you. You picked up your pace then, needing to hurry things along and he groaned against your throat.

“Fuck Y/N, you’re so fucking good.” He mumbled, “Missed you…missed your body, s’my favorite body, baby.” He muttered as he sloppily kissed your neck, “Gonna make me come. But I want t’come inside, can I?”

“Har, I-I don’t know…” you winced as he held you down, his cock impaling deep inside of you. “What about your-”

“Forget everyone else.” He interrupted, “We’re here now, s’just us. It’s us.” He appealed as he started to thrust up.“Don’t tell me you don’t want it like that.” He said, “I know you, love. Know you better than you know yourself.” He mumbled and you choked on a moan as he started to rub your clit.

“Yes, yes please come inside me.” You begged, finally giving in to what it is you wanted.

“Yeah, you want it inside you, my sexy little slut?” He questioned and you moaned and confirmed.

“Yeah, of course you do. You’re a filthy fucking home wrecker, you know that?” He muttered and when you glanced down it wasn’t Harry anymore, it was Sebastian. “Gonna throw me away like that and go after him, aren’t you?” He asked and suddenly you felt stuck in a bad way.

“Please just…” your pleasure was fading fast. He wasn’t fucking you. He was actually fully dressed, just holding you still in his lap and you were stuck there. Still fully naked though, to signify your shame over lusting after Harry. 

“You’ve fucked it up with me and now you’re gonna go fuck up his life too. You selfish, greedy bitch.” He seethed with spite.

************

And that’s when you woke up and immediately started crying again. Already, your head was pounding with inhumane levels of pain from the wine you’d drank the night before. But also the shame you felt for your thoughts the night before…it was monumental and sitting on your chest heavily. You felt like you needed to apologize to them for it, that’s how guilty you felt. 

Obviously, you missed Harry. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since you’d seen each other late last year. You hadn’t even spoken since! He hadn’t made any moves to rekindle the friendship between you as much as you had insisted that that’s what it was all about. Maybe he saw you and just got lost reminiscing the old days, but when he got back home to his girlfriend and his friends he realized that everything was exactly as it should’ve been. Maybe he needed to be with you to verify whether he was going down the right path now and clearly, he was. But you were just lost…so terribly lost.

************

It was a few days later when Sebastian finally came around to talk about your relationship and he was the one to hit you with the break up speech right off the bat. He made it seem like it was all your fault for not being more accommodating to his needs as a man. You had no idea what he meant by that, but you were in no condition or place to argue with him because you had wronged him. He did go off a bit about how he should’ve listened to his sisters and dumped you the moment you came back from their house. He was angry at you for not wanting to change or make compromises for him even though it was your job as the woman to look after him and your home and that’s when you lost your shit.

“THIS ISN’T YOUR HOME, SEBASTIAN!” You shouted with anger boiling over and he stopped talking, “It’s my fucking house! My house. I bought it with my money! I didn’t buy this house because I was planning a future in it with you! I just wanted a place of my own! That’s it! We weren’t even together when I got the house! What makes you feel like you have any sort of ownership over it or me?! You come here to do laundry and charge and wash your car, using my resources without ever even pitching in. You eat my food and use my AC in the summer-”

“Well you know I don’t have the same amenities at my apartment and-”

“Then tell your mom and dad to get you a better one!” You shouted and he frowned, “You’re spoiled and inconsiderate and completely helpless, Sebastian. I can’t be with a person who can’t hold their own or even bother to google what the symbols mean on the tags of your fucking clothes so that you don’t shrink them in the dryer!”

“Well you already know so I was calling you so that you could tell me-”

“I was busy with my fucking label rep! I couldn’t pick up the phone. But the fucking point is that, like you, at some point I didn’t know! I didn’t know a lot of things! So I had to grow the fuck up and figure them out for myself! And that’s the problem with you, you don’t try to figure things out, you don’t face any problems or obstacles, you just back yourself into a corner, telling yourself that you don’t know! You make everyone else jump in and sort things out the second an inconvenience arises for you.” He was pouting now. 

“Is that really how you see me? A spoiled man-child who can’t do things for themselves?”

“Yes.” You said and he chuckled.

“Who changed your tire when you got a flat? Who mows your fucking lawn when the landscapers can’t make it-”

“I can change a fucking tire, Seb! And I can mow a lawn! It’s not fucking rocket science! You insisted on doing those things for me because you said I “wouldn’t do them right”, don’t forget that detail.” You said and he shook his head.

“Well, no one ever wants to be with a know it all so…fuck you.” He said before leaving your house with a loud slam of the front door.

All you could feel was relief. It was like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders and you just wanted to run. So you did, you called up Caitlyn and you drove down to the beach and just ran and ran along the shore until you were shivering from the cold and could hardly feel your nose and lips. You were panting, struggling to take in a nice deep breath as you guys dropped down into the sand. Caitlyn being in much better shape than you wasn’t nearly as winded.

“How much did we run? Like two miles?” You asked as you swallowed thickly and she laughed.

“Try a 3/4’s of a mile…maybe a full one.” She said and you groaned and just let yourself fall back into the sand and stared up at the sky, it was slowly growing darker. You could feel your legs tingling a bit from the constant running, and as you laid there, letting all of your feelings from the past few weeks process you stopped feeling cold. “Want some water?”

“You brought water?”

“Yeah, my camelback.” She said and took it off and handed it to you. You thanked her and sucked some out of the straw before handing it back. “You good?”

“I don’t know…” you said monotonously, “No, actually.”

“Mmmm, I have a joint?” She said and you chuckled.

“Light her up.” You mumbled and she smiled and did just that. 

Soon she was laying back as well as she handed you the joint while she blew out the hit she’d taken. You took your hit as well, holding just a little bit because you were so bad at smoking and it was also bad for you as a singer. You still choked on it and shot up, snatching the water from Caitlyn as she giggled at you.

“God…” you groaned before laying back down, “You know, I saw pictures of Harry on vacation with Taylor the other day…internet stalking is the fucking worst, you know that? Why would you want to do that to yourself?” You asked Caitlyn.

“Mmmm, so nothing catches you by surprise. Or at least that’s what I like about it. I mean, if it’s just speculation at least you have that possible scenario in your head and you can process it before it’s just shoved in your face randomly, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess…I was judging her for not swimming in the ocean with Harry.” You said and then started laughing, “I don’t know why that particular thing pissed me off so much!” You laughed and Caitlyn did too, “Like what’s so fucking special about swimming that just triggered me…so ridiculous.” You mumbled.

“Just a bit…” she said.

“I think I’m starting to realize that…nothing about us was really special. Like we did all the things they do now just in secret…it’s like…I’m watching my relationship with him being reenacted.” You said with welled up eyes, but you didn’t cry this time. “It’s…it’s so weird.” You hummed and then you were silent for a few minutes, passing the joint back and forth.

“Wanna hear a rumor I heard?” Caitlyn said and you turned to her in interest, “I heard from Mer that-”

“Mer Winston? You’re still friends?”

“Oh yeah, we talk all the time.” Caitlyn confirmed, “But she said that they got in a huge fight before Christmas, he came over and had this whole venting session with them over lunch one day. And she said that H had a lot of making up to do if he wanted to make it work with her.”

“I hope that wasn’t my fault.” You mumbled.

“Maybe he decided to tell her about meeting up with you.”

“Maybe…” you sighed, “We haven’t talked at all or anything like that. It was part of the deal. If things were meant to happen then they would.” You said and Caitlyn hummed. 

“Maybe it’s like an apology vacation…”

“Who knows, but like…they’re there now so whatever…”

“Harry’s a bit annoying though, isn’t he? Like clingy if I recall? Like lanky ass wrapped around you all the fucking time, no?” Caitlyn asked and you chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, sounds about right…”

“Then why wasn’t he clinging to her? I saw the pictures too, by the way…” she added and you chuckled.

“Maybe he was? But he gets nervous when he knows people are watching.” You explained. “And besides, you should be the voice of reason here, not the conspiracy theorist!” You reprimanded and she chuckled as she handed you the last bit of the joint and you declined.

“Sorry, it’s the weed.” She said and you sighed.

“Well I’m not feeling shit.” You said, still completely sober.

“You’re not doing it right, s’why.” She laughed and you huffed.

“Damaging my lungs for nothing…” you muttered.

“I assure you with how shallow your inhales are that shit didn’t reach your lungs.” She cackled and she couldn’t stop from there. 

You walked back to where you parked with your arms linked together as you talked about other things. You were fine now, you just needed to get all the emotions out of your system. And well, just because your relationship had ended it didn’t mean that Harry was meant for you. Or you for him. All this meant was that Sebastian wasn’t right for you and you weren’t right for him. And as you walked along the shore you decided that you weren’t going to seek Harry out, you were going to forget about the little deal you made yourselves, that was just wishful thinking and you couldn’t set yourself up for disappointment like that. He was just so far away, it wasn’t cute, it wasn’t realistic, it was just sadistic and psychologically damaging. If you love someone you let them go. 

“I know this is so gross but I have to use the bathrooms here before they close.” Caitlyn said and you chuckled and nodded and she took off for the bathrooms. You just wandered back to the concrete wall that separated the pavement from the sand. The sun was just about to disappear and it felt so perfectly poetic. It was cathartic, thinking of him while the sun set second by second. And when the last little sliver started to fade you smiled and exhaled shakily before whispering.

“Bye, Harry.” 

*************

The news of your breakup with Sebastian had come swiftly to the public as the very next day Seb released a statement via an Instagram post asking for “privacy in this difficult time”. It was interesting to you because he was the one who did the dumping. But then the questions started pouring in from your manager and publicists and you confirmed that you’d broken up and explained why and they decided that they would not give him the satisfaction or even an acknowledgement with a confirmation to the media.

You did get papped outside of your preferred grocery store the week after he announced the break up and you believed it was to do with the fact that you nor your team had done a thing to acknowledge his announcement. You had a strict plan for grocery shopping as to prevent being papped or seen by too many people and the one person who knew that apart from Caitlyn was him. So it was about 9 at night and the paps were bombarding you with questions about this break up as you unloaded your groceries into the car and all you said was “Yep, Seb broke up with me.” with a bright smile. You wanted to give “Nicole Kidman divorced from psycho cult follower, Tom Cruise” vibes. You felt like you’d escaped a super shitty future. You were sure he could find someone who would happily be all the things he wanted them to be for him, but that’s certainly not what you wanted from a relationship. You did wish him well, but that was all there was to it.

Unfortunately for Sebastian, his plot with the paps backfired a bit. People were pointing out that you seemed happy and relieved about the breakup as you just carried on with life. And then that turned into speculations that he wrote that post on instagram for some compassion from the public since he had broken up with you. And yeah, that was all true, but you weren’t going to fuel the fire. The public could be your bestest friend of your greatest foe, so it was better not to try and involve the masses when possible. That’s something you had learned from Harry, regardless of whether things were good or bad, the public always had something to say and the best thing to do was not to give them any ammunition.  

*************

Harry’s POV:

Harry had heard about your break up through the grapevine and his first instinct was to check up on you. It’d been a few days and he was still teetering on the edge of whether he should or not, he’d have to go through some lengths to do so, but he wanted to. Admittedly, he was already on thin ice…

When he got back from LA he was just really in his head about everything and when Tay asked what was up he was honest with her. Except the kiss, he didn’t tell her about the kiss. But he shared with her that he asked to see you. He told her that he chose to stay longer in hopes to see you again. He was honest about why he didn’t want to tell her that he wanted to hang out with you. He was honest about how much shit it stirred up in him to have run into you. Obviously, she was pissed at him, even said it was probably over, he had never seen her angry before but it came at him strong and she was gone for a few days. That’s when he took advantage to talk about all this to someone else, so he made his way over for lunch with Ben and Meredith and told them all of it.

Once it was off his chest he reached out to fix things with his girlfriend. And while she agreed to work through this with him there had been a lot of conditions given until he regained the trust that he had broken. She wanted him to remove your number from his phone because as she’d put it, he had no business trying to talk to you while you were in a relationship and while he was in a relationship. He genuinely couldn’t argue with that logic so he did right there in her face so that she could see for herself. She also wanted to understand what it was about you that made him suddenly lose all his self control. And against his better judgment he told her about you and he saw for himself how the more he spoke, the bigger the hole he dug for himself. 

The holidays were a little weird, there was still some tension and it was good that she got to be around his family to distract a bit from all the hurt and anger that was still lingering beneath the surface. So when the new year came by he suggested they get out of town, have a nice little change of pace to start out their year together. And now here they were, he had just seen another post about you and Sebastian being over and he just needed to check.

“Mate, d-do you think you can reach out to Jen and get Y/N’s number?” Harry asked Tom quietly.

“Jen?”

“Yeah, Jen Lockley, her manager.” He said and Tommy sighed.

“I know that I work for you, but this is stupid, H. Is this really something you want to be doing? Especially with the situation you’re in right now.” He admonished.

“Look, her boyfriend just broke up with her, I just want to make sure she’s OK.” He explained and Tommy sighed and pulled out his phone and was typing something up before handing his phone over. It was a video of you getting papped, smiling bright as you confirmed the break up.

“She’s fine.” He assured.

“OK.” He sighed.

“Why is she so happy about it?” Tommy asked.

“I don’t know…maybe if I talked to her I’d know.”

“So this has nothing to do with you?” He asked.

“No! I just came and asked you for her number! If that’s not an act of desperation, I don’t know what is…”

“So what are you trying to do here? Are you not as happy as you let on or what?”

“I am, I just…I miss her. She was my best friend, you know? I was rocked when I saw her. I didn’t expect to feel as much as I did. I couldn’t help that, running into her was out my control.” He explained

“Yeah, I get that. But look, you’ve got someone really great right in front of you.”

“I know that…s’just, different. She’s a different person.” Harry said, “Which is great, it’s just…different.” He said again.

“Was that relationship the one that like…changed everything?” He asked and Harry nodded. Tommy had been working with Jeffrey for a while, but he and Harry only started getting close after Jeffrey and Glenne got married, he wasn’t with you by then anymore. So he hadn’t really seen your relationship like everyone else had.

“Yeah. I wanted to marry her. Have a baby with her, everything. We met when I was still in the band, she’s was there for the whole transition out of it, she helped me with my songs for my first album…we grew up together, you know? Challenged each other, encouraged each other.”

“And you ended it because?”

“We were both way too busy, we hardly had time to see each other during the last 2 years we were togther. We were doing extreme things just to have a weekend together, you know? It was draining and exhausting for the both of us so ummm…we just decided to end it.”

“Well, regardless of how you feel now, it’s over H. I just don’t want you to…to look past what you have now just because you’re clinging to the past.”

“Well what if she’s in my future?” He asked and Tommy sighed.

“If that’s really how you feel then what are you doing here with someone else? What’s the point? Just killing time until you can have the person you want?”

“It’s not like I don’t love Tay, I just…also love Y/N. I think I’ll always love her and I’ll always wonder about her. She’s the one that…got away, so it’s always going to be like this.”

“Does your girlfriend know that?”

“I think she’s starting to figure it out…” Harry sighed.

“Well if that’s how it is you still need to focus on the relationship you’re in now. You have nothing going on with Y/N, not even a friendship, so you need to be present. Turn a new page, like you promised.”

“I will. I will.” He repeated, almost as if trying to convince himself more than Tommy. 

Tommy could understand why it was hard for Harry to just move on when he felt like the person that was his person was slowly pulling further and further from his reach. He believed that you could be torn between two people, love more than one person at a time, but not everyone accepted that kind of love or relationship. He didn’t think Harry would start a full blown affair with you, but for some it was worse in a way, knowing that their partner felt love for them and someone else. It couldn’t be easy for Taylor to come to terms with that; especially if she wasn’t aware that Harry even had the ability to love this way. Or that there was someone who had the ability to affect him that much that wasn’t her.

“I know this is fucking unfair of me but I really just have no control over these feelings, mate. I saw her again and it hit me like a fucking train that I love her, you know? It’s weird for me too to suddenly have all these different feelings for someone else when I thought I had moved on; it was unexpected. I even…love her in a different way than I do Taylor.” Harry explained with a furrowed brow.

“Well don’t say that to her. Ever.” Tommy advised.

“Well, I just think she’s understanding this all wrong…like she thinks that seeing Y/N raised up some conflict or doubts in me about our relationship. That I’m “torn” between options and it’s not that at all. I enjoy our relationship and I love being with her, so much, but it’s not what Y/N and I had. So I’m not looking for that in Tay nor am I comparing her to Y/N at all. Like I love Taylor for Taylor and what she does for me and how we function together. But I also love Y/N for all of what we had and all that we could possibly be. It’s completely separate…she’s still on this “emotional cheating” argument, which I get what she means. But it’s not like I’m looking for something she’s lacking, you know? I’m not even looking for anything else with anyone else. It’s just feelings.”

“Love is a big feeling, H.” Tommy said. “It’s getting messy.”

“I know and like…she just wants me to let it go and move on which is impossible. I can’t just stop loving Y/N on command, you know? If it’s going to happen it’s going to take a lot of time. I mean, I thought I was past all this until we were face to face. Who’s to say that won’t happen again 10 years from now or something?”

“Yeah, I see your dilemma.” Tommy hummed. “I mean, the fact that you deleted her number should be a good start for Tay. Show her that you’re willing to just focus on you two.”

“Yeah…”

“I mean, you get why you guys can’t even be friends, right?”

“Of course, I do. It just…it sucks.” He sighed.

************

Harry didn’t think Taylor would be keeping an eye out for you after he deleted your number, but she was. And it was late and he was tired and a little sunburnt and he just wanted to plop into bed after his cold shower, but the concerned look on her face made him realize that something was about to go down that would prevent him from resting as he hoped.

“What’s the matter, love?” He asked right away instead of waiting for her to get around to stating the problem.

“She broke up with him.” She said to him with a slightly nervous tone.

“Who broke up with who?” He asked, playing dumb.

“Y/N, with Sebastian. My friend just send this to me.” She said turning her phone to him as he came over to the bed. It was a tabloid cover with the news.

“Well good for her, he was kind of a prick.” Harry said as he climbed in.

“So you’re happy about this?”

“If she’s happy about it then yeah. And again, I’m not his biggest fan, so why wouldn’t I be?” He questioned.

“I’m sure she’s doing it for you.” She said with a slightly accusatory tone, “Does that make you happy too?” She asked him, challenging him. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“She’s not doing it for me. When we talked she was telling me that they were having some issues that she was having a hard time getting past. Seems like it was coming. Maybe they both reached their breaking points.” He reasoned. But the thought did cross his mind, was she sending him a sign?

“Harry, I hate feeling this way…” she said, “This isn’t me.” She shook her head, “You know this isn’t me. But I feel…like we’re up in the air.” She repeated and he sighed.

“I’m sorry.” All he could really do was apologize. “You have no reason to feel that way though, babe. I’m not looking for anything with Y/N, love. When I said I still have feelings for her, it’s just that, they’re feelings. But we’re not gonna talk, I’m never gonna see her again-”

“You don’t know that, Harry.” She interrupted.

“Well, not on purpose, I won’t, not if you don’t want me to.” He said and she sighed.

“My whole point is that I shouldn’t have to put restrictions on you, like a child! I should be able to trust that you won’t hurt me.”

“Then trust me. I’m not going to do anything with this.” He assured and she pouted.

“What if you never stop loving her?” She asked him and he sighed.

“Babe, I don’t know…”

“Well what then? I just have to live in her shadow for however long we’re together? What if that’s my whole life?” She asked with a frown and he was getting a bit frustrated that people weren’t understanding that this wasn’t a competition for him.

“Babe, it’s not like that…you’re not in her shadow because you’re never going to be her!” He groaned and she frowned, “Let me finish.You’re not Y/N and Y/N’s not ever going to be you. It’s not a competition…I don’t want you to give me what I had with her. I like what we have now. I’m not comparing, I’m not trying to get pieces of that relationship back through you. They’re two mutually exclusive things! If I continue to be here for you how you need, and I’m faithful, and supportive, and am fulfilling all of those duties we talked about… how do my feelings for her impact us?” He asked.

“See, to me that feels like a cop out.” She said and Harry sighed.

“How?! How on earth?”

“Because you can continue loving her for the rest of your life if you want under this mentality you have! What if loving her from afar stops being enough? I don’t want to share you with someone else! That’s not what I signed up for.”

“You’re not sharing me with anyone!” He groaned.

“See that’s what you’re not getting, Harry. I know you feel you’re not and you can even make the distinction, but I can’t do that, H. I don’t function that way. How do I know that one day your mind won’t change and you’ll want to be with her instead of me since you’ve kept this channel open?” She asked.

“My feelings for you can start to change at any given moment for any number of reasons that are completely unrelated to Y/N, so-”

“You’re a dick.” She said and got out of bed and just locked herself in the bathroom. 

He tried to explain what it was he was trying to convey but Tommy was right, this was getting messy. She said she’d only come out when he was out of the bedroom so he made his way to the general area of the large condo style suite they’d rented out at the resort and just laid on the couch. If there was an off-switch to loving you, Harry would’ve made use of it ages ago. It wasn’t easy to love someone who life kept pushing out of your reach. He just loved you 

from afar, he reckons he always would.

…. February 2024 ….

You were at your wits end with Sebastian. It took him about a month of you two being broken up before he started trying to spark things up between the two of you again. You wanted to believe it was because he’s considered his antiquated (in your opinion) expectations of you, but your gut told you it had more to do with the fact that you were what gave him more exposure. You hadn’t really run into him anywhere during awards season or even any parties, though he had been persistent to talk to you. You’d declined and rejected him so many times, yet once again, you got home from the studio to see your assistant had left yet another fresh bouquet of roses on the console table you had by the door. You sighed and grabbed the little card that was tucked in among the greenery.

Thinking of you today, Y/N. I hope we can talk or see each other soon. I’ll be waiting.

- XO, Seb

You sighed as you picked out the little card and crumbled it in your hand. Now you had a dozen red roses you had no use for. It irked you quite a bit, like everything was though as of late. This foulness of your mood was brought on by the visit of a mutual friend a few weeks prior. They were based in London though, so you hadn’t seen each other face to face in at least three year. But when you met up, they talked about your old circle in London, and obviously that led to the mentioning of Harry and how happy he was with Taylor. They said that the pair had been traveling together a lot, and just really immersing themselves in what they had going on. Hearing that solidified your decision to just steer clear of anything that had to do with Harry. Especially if he was really focused on making things work in his current relationship, as he should! But this also reminded you that you really needed to move on and not just say you would, like you often did. You slipped out of your loafers and migrated to the kitchen to figure out your dinner when your phone started ringing and you glanced down to see it was one of the guys from the studio.

“Hey Ricky, what’s up?” You asked with some pep.

“Hey Y/N, it’s going good. We’re almost done with the single. Ummm, I was actually calling about something else though. You know how my younger sister’s in a band?” He asked.

“Yeah…” you said as you opened up your fridge.

“So they’re doing this charity concert to raise money for an emergency student fund for students in financial need at UCSD. She asked me to run the sound system and if I could rope in any friends to volunteer for the main performance last minute? They’ve got a few local bands and singers lined up and them plus a surprise guest is what they hoped. But the surprise guest decided to drop out since they weren’t going to be paid.”

“What an ass.”

“I know, they knew about it too! It’s for charity!” He said, “Obviously, they’re at a loss and don’t want the event to flop. I told my sister she had one favor a year and she called it. So I was wondering if-”

“Oh my god, you don’t even have to ask. It’s for a good cause! When is it?” You asked.

“It’s going to be on March 9th, it’s a Saturday, at the SDSU amphitheater.” He shared and she pulled her phone away to put him on speaker and look at her calendar.

“Ummm, I don’t believe I have anything lined up for that weekend…yeah, no. I’m all clear so I can definitely participate.” You assured.

“Seriously?!” Ricky asked in disbelief, “Like they can’t pay anything though. The school pitched in for some thank you gifts, that’s all.” He said and you chuckled.

“No problem. I would love to help out.”

“You’re a saint! Let me text you her information so that you can reach out to her and get the lowdown on all this.”

“Sounds good.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Seriously, thank you so much! You’re the tenth person I’ve called.” Ricky confessed.

“Ummm?” You exclaimed, face twisted in full offense, “I’m offended that I’m the tenth choice.” You chuckled, “Unless you were like calling in personal favors from like Lana or Rihanna.” You added and he chuckled.

“No…I just know you’ve been going through a bit emotionally lately, so I didn’t want to rope you into anything last minute and burden you with anything else.” He explained.

“Oh, I’m up for anything that involves singing.” You assured him and he chuckled.

“Well thank you, she’s going to be so happy about this. She’s kind of a fan…” Ricky sighed in relief and you chuckled.

“Anytime. See you tomorrow?”

“Yep. Have a good night.”

“I will. And Ricky, don’t stay too late, please.” You said and he chuckled.

“I’ll try…” he mumbled and you both chuckled before hanging up.  

…. MARCH 2024 ….

Time had flown by and you had rehearsed with Alondra, Ricky’s sister, and her band the weekend before the show. You’d actually spent the weekend with them, at Marisol, their drummer’s house. You’d all slept over and they took you around to some of the low-key spots in the area. You really enjoyed spending the weekend with them, Marisol’s parents were so sweet and hospitable. But on Sunday afternoon you moved to an AirBnB that was closer to the campus and would provide you all plenty of space and privacy to rehearse later in the week. Ricky drove up on Tuesday night with Caitlyn and Melissa to stay with you for the rest of the time as well.

On Friday night you were doing your rehearsal/soundcheck at the amphitheater right before the city’s noise curfew. This was because there weren’t as many people on campus around at that hour and a larger area had already been blocked off from public access for the event. So thankfully you guys finished that quite fast and Ricky had all your settings down for the following day.

“You guys sounded so good.” Ricky assured as his arm draped around Alondra’s shoulder as you guys rallied up on the now cleared stage.

“Yeah?” She asked and he nodded with pride.

“OK, so are we getting drinks or what?” Their keyboard player, Pablo interrupted, “I need something to distract me, please.” He mumbled and you frowned, you had no idea what was wrong, but going out to get shit faced before a gig day was a poor idea.

“Well in the interest of ensuring you don’t feel like shit tomorrow, we can go to the house? We have a pool and hot tub, and I know Caitlyn has weed on her, and we can get drinks and order food?” You suggested.

“You’re really just giving away your friend’s weed?” Pablo chuckled.

“I can get her more.” You chuckled, “What do you guys say?” You wanted to ensure that whatever had Pablo so worked up didn’t make him lose control.

“I like it, let’s do it.” Alondra said and with that you were making your way over to the AirBnB. 

After making your purchases and just ordering some pizza’s you guys were all hanging out in the patio enjoying the refreshing breeze of the night. Pablo was definitely a little crossed and looking quite bummed out. You wanted to ask him what was wrong, but didn’t want to seem nosy. So you headed inside to find Alondra, she had gone in to get herself some water.

“Hey, what’s wrong with Pablo?” You asked as you came into the kitchen.

“Oh, he found out that his ex-girlfriend is now dating one of the guys from another band that will be playing tomorrow, he saw her name on their guest list. They haven’t seen each other since the break up which actually was maybe a year ago. It was just a really sad time for him.” She explained quietly.

“Oh…yeah, running into an ex can be weird after so long.” You shared from personal experience.

“Yeah, they’d been together since high school, so I think the relationship had just run its course and she knew it, but he didn’t see it like that. He talked about marrying her and having kids with her all the time and she’s so sweet, but he was just really giving up on everything else to stay with her and she didn’t want that for him, so she ended it before he sacrificed too much, you know?”

“Yeah, I know how that is…” you assured. And suddenly you heard a familiar song play loudly from the outside…

“No hard feelings honey

There’ll be no bad blood

Losing your love has been hard enough

Life can be short, but life can be sweet

No hard feelings honey, the next time we meet”

Your heart shriveled in your chest because this song had been played a lot by you. The single had come out maybe a month or two after you and Harry ended things. You’d cried so much to this song, it still made you feel things, clearly. You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard Pablo and Caitlyn all singing along loudly and you and Alondra rushed outside as Ricky smiled at you guys. Pablo was sandwiched between Caitlyn and Jesse, the bassist, as a few tears streamed down his face as he sang the lyrics to “No Hard Feelings”.

“We need to add this to the set list…please!” He sniffled as he stopped singing along, “I learned how to play it a bit ago. Please….” He begged Alondra with tearful, puppy dog eyes.

“I mean, w-we can, but I actually don’t know this song, I don’t think I can get it down by tomorrow.” She explained. Pablo was not a singer, he hated it, so he glanced to Marisol who also was not all that confident in learning the song right now for a performance the next day.

“Y/N?” He turned to you, “Do you know it?” He asked you.

“She does!” Caitlyn cut in, “Sing it with him!” She pouted at you and you glanced to Pablo who looked so hopeful now and you forced a smile.

“I do. I also know the bass part.” You shared and he smiled.

“I just want her to know that I’m glad she’s happy. It hurts, but I’m so happy for her.” He said and everyone hummed in understanding and then Caitlyn’s eyes glanced to yours as you swallowed thickly. ‘SORRY’ she mouthed to you when she realized what she’d done and you just smiled at her to assure her it was fine. Even if it wasn’t, it had to be fine.

The next morning Pablo was up with you, earlier than everyone else, and with some coffee in your hands you got to figuring out an arrangement. Luckily, Ricky had brought along a guitar, bass, and travel sized amp for the work you’d be doing during the week and so you practiced on that. There was a piano in the house, so Pablo practiced on that for now. You were both so familiar with the song that it was so fast to get an arrangement set and for your guys to get it down. You had agreed on starting out the first verse/chorus with the keyboard like in the lullaby version and then you’d come in with the bass and transition into the regular studio version. You went over it a handful of times before deciding that it was perfect.

And so far, it was going perfect, the concert was sold out and the bands were doing great. People were singing along and having a nice time. You didn’t get nervous so much anymore, but it nearing the end of the show and you were waiting back stage to have Alondra call you out to play alone with Pablo.

“Thank you everyone.” Alondra spoke into the mic, “Before we wrap it up, we have just a couple more songs for you guys.” she said and the crowd cheered, “Thanks, you guys are great. Now, we’re going to bring Y/N out one more time for a special song with Pablo.” and upon mentioning your name the crowd started to cheer louder, “We hope you like this one.” She smiled and moved away from the mic. 

Jesse took off his bass and handed it to you. You got it on as you walked further onto the stage. You smiled as you got it in a comfortable position  and glanced to Pablo who nodded that he was ready to go. You felt your stomach swirling with nerves and nostalgia, but you had to use that to push forward. You let out a long exhale as you gave the bass a couple plucks to test the volume in your earpiece and when that was good you walked up to mic properly.

“Please be gentle with this one.” You said softly and then glanced back to Pablo and gave him one more nod as you inhaled and started to sing.

You faintly heard some gasps and coos when people recognized what you were singing before everyone fell mostly silent and just listened. The entire amphitheater started to light up with flashlights from people’s phones, making the moment feel magical as well as solemn as you sang through the first two verses. When you got to the instrumental you angled yourself towards Pablo to be able to see his cues. You then turned back to the mic as you guys got ready for the final verse, you eased out of playing the bass and went back to just Pablo playing the keyboard, letting his final note resonate as you took a deep breath as you leaned into the mic. And when your eyes shut gently to envision the words Harry’s face appeared and you knew your facade would crumble.

“The threads that kept us together were already wearing thin…” your voice faded into breathy whisper as a huge knot formed in your throat. Pablo noticed and you swallowed thickly and he slowed his tempo to let you get to the next part, “Would we ever have tied the knot? Well how long is a piece of string?” You sang sweetly as your tears started to silently streak down your face. “And for everything that ends, something else must begin…” Your voice cracked as you inhaled shakily to finish the song. The crowd cheered you on, giving you the courage to finish the song, “No hard feelings, honey. And we both will take the win.” You finished softly and you quickly turned away from the mic as a sob escaped you. The audience was so kind and generous with you two as an also crying Pablo came up and hugged you tight.

“You were so good…thank you for doing this for me.” He hummed before he let you go. Your hands squeezed his and you nodded and smiled at him before waving and walking off stage for the final time. You couldn’t even hear Alondra’s final thanks as you hurried down the steps to find a place to be alone and cry it out for just a bit before you had to face everyone again.

**************

You kind of felt like an idiot for agreeing to sing this song with Pablo over the weekend because the performance had gone viral overnight. Then, first thing Monday, the university’s media department posted a full length, HQ video of it. Obviously, the story was that you delivered such an emotional and beautiful performance because your break up with Sebastian was so fresh. A bunch of reporters and blogs had reached out for commentary and you had declined, of course. That didn’t stop Sebastian from reaching out several times trying to reconcile things between you two. It had all been turned into one big, chaotic, and raging dumpster fire.

Noticing the chaos that had ensued from his performance you were invited out to a wine bar with a couple friends just to loosen up. And on your way out you were swarmed by a small group of paparazzi, and as you tried to get through, one of the paps asked about how you were actually coping with the break up because you had seemed happy about it before. Then, another asked if the performance was for Sebastian. Maybe it was because you were a bit drunk, but you decided to give a response because you didn’t want to keep encouraging Seb.

“Look, that song is just special to me, it has been for years. And performing it kind of transported me back to that time of my life where it was my lifeline.” You explained, “There’s a lot of history with this song and a lot of feelings I had been holding in for a while came out during the performance, that’s all.” You explained, “I promise, I’m fine and everything’s good with the break up.” You assured before being tugged away by Ricky to his car as he muttered something about you not owning anyone any explanations.

****************

HARRY’S POV:

Harry was sure that everything had been going well between him and Taylor. He really had focused on her and on them and things had been going great. She had been back to her old self and then at some point over the weekend something shifted because she was a bit annoyed again and it only got worse during the week. Harry figured it was something personal because he was pretty sure that he had done nothing to illicit any type of irritation from her. But he could see she was having a hard time with not taking out any frustration on him so he decided to ask, just in case.

“Babe, is everything alright?” He asked as he strolled into the entertainment room, she’d been in there reading after dinner. When she glanced up he was met with an exasperated and somewhat angry expression and he wished he had left it alone, “Have I done something?” He followed up as he sat at the edge of cushion with her legs on it. “Please tell me if I have, I thought we were doing good.” He said as one of his hands smoothed up her ankle to her knee, this was to placate both him and her. He really needed to know because he felt like he was walking on eggshells the last few days.

“No, H. You’re…good. I’m sorry, I’m just really trying my best not to take my frustration out on you for something that I know isn’t really your issue-”

“OK, well what is it? Maybe I can help.” He offered.

“No, it’s super insignificant and stupid…”

“I think not if it has you in this state, babe.” He countered her logic. “C’mon, let me help you.” He insisted and she shook her head.

“Trust me, Harry, you don’t need to know about this.” She assured. That made him a bit annoyed because whether she meant to or not, she was being weird with him and he wanted it to stop.

“Well I think I do. You’re trying not to take it out on me but you’re still acting strange and  cold and are super irritable anyway so-”

“It’s freaking Y/N, OK!?” She finally said, voice raised and laced with irritation. Harry frowned and now his anger was aimed at you. Had you said something to Taylor? He couldn’t see a world in which you would, but maybe you had. And well whatever it was, it had to have been really personal for her to be reacting like this and being upset over it for days now.

“OK? Did she do or say something to you?” He asked and she sighed.

“No…not directly, but she…she’s doing a bad job at fixing that stunt she pulled over the weekend and-”

“What? What stunt?” He asked. He really had completely blocked out anything about you because he didn’t want to make Taylor feel like he was keeping tabs on you or his options open. So he truly had no idea what you had done or were up to recently.

“She sang at some college charity show and she sang this song…but she did it on purpose because the song’s about you! It’s a break up song about seeing your ex again!” She insisted. Harry’s curiosity was piqued. What song had you sang that she was so sure it was about him? 

“Maybe it was about her recent break up, babe.” He tried to think of anything else that would make her let this go and not worry about it so much.

“Not according to what she told the paparazzi yesterday.” She added and Harry sighed but couldn’t prevent the chuckle that slipped past his mouth.

“Oh my god, love…since when do we care about anything the paps have to say? Hmmm?” He asked and she sighed. 

“There’s video.” She informed. “I’ve seen it…multiple times, much to my misfortune” she shared and upon hearing this Harry felt defeat overcome him. He needed to choose his next words carefully, because it was something that might upset her further, but she needed to hear.

“Look, I know you have every right to be wary of this and even to doubt me, but babe, this has gone too far. Way too far.” Harry stated his concern and she sighed, the same defeated look over her face.

“I know, babe. I know it has.” She admitted.

“I just…I’m trying to understand it, babe.” He sighed with confusion, “All this time I’ve been putting all of my focus on us and improving our relationship, like I told you I would. And  honestly, t’s feeling like you hardly notice or care for it all because all you do is obsess over my ex!” He explained his feelings, evidently quite forlorn.

“The ex you still love, H.” She reminded him of that pertinent detail. Harry nodded in understanding and scoffed out a defeated laugh.

“Tay, I can’t do anything else to prove to you that I love you and am committed to you. I feel like I’m losing my mind trying to get you to just be here again. Please, just be here with me.” He beckoned she blinked rapidly as she drew her eyes up to the ceiling.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind too.” She confessed softly, “I promise I’m trying to move past this, H. I am. But honestly, I’m starting to think that maybe I just…can’t.” she confessed and he nodded silently. “I see the effort, babe. Thank you for it, I appreciate it, I promise you, I do.” She insisted, “I just…kind of wish you had never said anything to me about this…” she confessed. Harry was feeling that way too. He should’ve just made something up about why he was acting strange. 

“I think I’m just going t’go to bed. Sleep on it, hopefully wake up feeling a bit more optimistic about this than today.” She said and he nodded as she got up from he couch.

“I love you, sleep well.” He said. She leaned over him and kissed his forehead and gave him a smile before leaving him alone.

Harry felt super shit now. He had fucked up a catastrophic amount. He truly did regret being honest about the situation with you. He should’ve kept it to himself because now things were just getting weird. Sure, he was a bit annoyed with Taylor’s recent hobby of stalking you, but he couldn’t blame her or label her insane for it, he had done that to her. And for the first time he truly questioned what it was that he had gone and done with you. She didn’t deserve to doubt herself or their relationship like she was now. They were both having a miserable time and it was entirely his fault. He wasn’t sure what to do from here, he didn’t even know if there was anything he could do to help fix this.

*************

It took Harry a few days before he decided to look up the videos Taylor was talking about to see for himself why she was struggling so much to let this one go. But when he saw the video of you singing “No Hard Feelings” with so much emotion he knew it had nothing to do with Sebastian. He had to force down the growing lump in his throat and blink away the tears accumulating in his eyes, this felt like a goodbye from you almost and it confused him. The emotion was definitely tangible even weeks later though a screen, he could understand why it was haunting Taylor. And then he saw the pap video she mentioned, he couldn’t agree that what you had said was damning evidence, but if she felt that way, what could he do? He wasn’t going to tell her he watched them. They did make him want to call you though, but of course he’d leave it alone and decided against it, both for his and Taylor’s sake. 

Instead, he called Caitlyn, he needed to see what in the world you had been thinking when you decided to do that. He was genuinely curious. Of course, he first texted her to let her know he wanted to talk when she could. He didn’t want to just spring a call on her and risk you being there. And finally, the time they had agreed to talk had come and she was calling him. He strolled out to his back yard, taking advantage of the evening breeze while Taylor got ready. They were going to Mitch and Sarah’s place for dinner in a bit.

“Hey, Har!” Caitlyn greeted him energetically for her time of day.

“Hiya.” He greeted, “You sound chipper.”

“Just came in from a jazzercise class.” She explained and he chuckled.

“Oh shit, did it go well?”

“Yeah. It was really fun. How are you? How’s it going?”

“I’m alright, but it’s been a bit…tough.”

“Did something happen?”

“Well I told Taylor about seeing Y/N, so I’ve been making up for that…but I guess there was a show a couple weeks ago and she sang a song that has her a bit upset. She feels like Y/N did it on purpose I guess, to like…bait me in or something. And then she said some bit about it being important to her in the past and that’s kind of what…made Tay just lose it a bit.” He explained and Caitlyn hummed.

“Well, the song wasn’t to bait you, it’s kind of my fault she ended up singing it. The guy she played it with found out his ex was going to be at the show with someone else just the night before and he wanted to sing it for her. It was very last minute…she was the only one who knew the song well enough to pull it off with him the very next day. I volunteered her and put her in a difficult position where she couldn’t really decline…I knew she knew the song because she did listen to it a lot after…I didn’t know it would…affect her like that though.” She explained sadly, “I’m sorry it caused trouble for you, H.” Caitlyn apologized.

“It’s alright, Cait.” He assured. Now that he understood the context he felt relieved. He knew you weren’t a petty person like he could be, and he was a bit upset at himself for even considering that you would actually do something on purpose to bait him or cause turmoil in his relationship.

“I just feel awful…as you probably know now, she’s gone viral for it and it’s caused her some problems. It was such a vulnerable moment that she didn’t expect either so I know she hates that it’s kind of blown her up a bit.”

“I mean, she sounded incredible and it was just so sincere. Of course everyone’s obsessed with it.” He said with understanding.

“Yeah. She just feels really exposed, I think. And also, when she said that to the pap, about it being something form her past, she was super drunk. She called me the next morning asking if it sounded as awful as she felt it did, which I personally don’t think it did. But I mean, I could understand why Tay’s feeling upset about this.” Caitlyn said and Harry nodded.

“Yeah…I just don’t know what I can do to…fix this.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah…a few days ago she said that she wasn’t sure if she could get past all this. I don’t blame her…it’s a lot to get past.”

“Well what did you say to her when you told her about Y/N?”

“I…admitted that I still had feelings for her.” He sighed and Caitlyn did as well, “But like, I didn’t even know that for sure until she was right in my face. Like I knew I missed her, but just being with her again, it just brought everything that I’d been repressing up to the surface. I regret being honest with Tay, about it all.” He sighed, “She regrets it too apparently. Wishes I never said anything.” He added with defeat.

“Well it is quite a lot to get through. Especially if she knows you still have deep feelings for Y/N. It can be scary thinking that you’ve given your whole heart to someone only to discover that you’re not the only one they love.” She explained “She might feel like a place holder until you and Y/N can get back together.”

“Well she’s not. I love her too.”

“I know, but that just doesn’t work for some people, H. Maybe this is what’s supposed to happen.” Caitlyn said and he sighed.

“I never meant to hurt anyone like this…”

“Well, it’s collateral damage. There’s always going to be someone who gets hurt. S’why I was warning you guys to be careful with this.” She reminded and he hummed.

“Did she end things with Seb for me?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“No. They went to his family’s for the holidays and as it turns out they function under this idea that men’s love language is acts of service, as in, women should wait on us hand and foot while we sit around with our dicks in our hands…” she said with some disdain still feeling salty about the whole thing. 

“Get out…” he groaned with secondhand embarrassment for the male species as a whole.

“It was a whole thing…his sister’s and mom were talking shit about her for it after the first night. She knew he was babied by his mom, but not that she was like his fucking PA! Either way, when they got back they talked about it and he basically said that she’d ease into it and learn how to treat him and take a more feminine role in their home as their relationship advanced or some shit like that…and she was like “umm, you should be cleaning up after yourself because it’s actually my home”, and he got all sensitive about that, the fucking free loader…” Caitlyn said.

“God…good for her though. I’m glad she stuck up to him.”

“Yeah, and well, he actually broke up with her…she’s not upset about it or anything. Just more annoyed really as now he’s trying to win her back, but she’s just ignoring him.”

“Good. That’s good to hear. When I heard about the break up I wanted to reach out but I can’t.” He explained.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re seeing that. Especially with the situation you’re in.”

“Well that, but like I literally cannot. Tay asked me to delete her contact in case I got tempted to reach out again and I did, so I don’t even have her number anymore.” Harry let out a breathy laugh and after a few moments he inhaled and started to cry. Caitlyn frowned and tutted as she heard him breaking down.

“Harry, hey…” she cooed, “What’s the matter?”

“Ugh…nothing. I think I’ve just been holding that in.” He sniffled, “I kind of hate myself for making Taylor go to these lengths…I know she hates doing that kind of stuff too. And Y/N…god, why is she always on my mind. I can’t shake her, Cait. I just can’t…if I could change my heart I would. I know that it’s hurting us more than helping us.” He sniffled.

“If it helps to know, I think she’s made peace with the fact that you’re with the best person for you.” She said and hearing that physically hurt him, it made his chest tighten up and feel hollow at the same time. “I know it hurts her sometimes but she’s genuinely really happy for you, H. She truly is. So give it your all, yeah? Make this right.” Caitlyn said and he sniffled.

“OK. Thanks, Cait.”

“Anytime, H.” She assured him.

“I know you’re best friends and all, but just keep this between us, yeah?”

“Of course.” She assured, “If there’s anything I can do at all just let me know, OK? Or just listen if you need it.”

“Thank you. Bye.”

“Bye.” She said and they hung up.

Harry felt like a full blown asshole. He had hurt the two people he was in love with and now he had to choose. He had hoped that things cleared up on their own, but they were as murky as ever. It shouldn’t be hard to just choose the person he was with, but it was. It felt like he was losing. Well, who was he kidding, he had already lost you.

…. MAY 2024 ….

It was the night of the MET and you had just finished getting your hair and make up done for one of the after party’s. Caitlyn was your +1 to the parties and was more than excited to be tagging along with you for her first ever met. You’d been invited before, when Harry hosted, but you just laid super low. You even left his after party early because you had a work event in LA the next morning. Being the man of the hour you didn’t really see much of him that entire night. You did kiss him goodbye, but he was balls to the walls high on you weren’t even sure what, and that was that. This time, you were invited without any internal connections, but you were sure it was because you were still riding on that viral wave. You weren’t going to go, you didn’t want to keep calling attention to yourself. But your manager and friends insisted that you needed this, just to have a fun night out without cameras. And well, that was true, there were never cameras at these things, just outside.

“You ready?” Caitlyn asked you as you looked over your reflection one more time.

“If they’re where we are, we’re leaving.” You said and Caitlyn nodded in agreement.

You had been strategic and decided to party hop to decrease the likelihood of you running in Harry and Taylor after learning that they were attending together. You were feeling good, you’d successfully made it through two of the three parties you had been invited to and having a blast. Normally, you’d be dying to get home, but you had taken some E as you were leaving the first party in hopes to have endurance for the next two parties. You felt floaty and happy and tingly under its influence. You could quite literally feel the music around you, the hard hits of the bass tickled from the soles of your feet and up your legs. You were surrounded by people, probably in a similar state as you, dancing through their highs with racing hearts. 

And through all the dancing and euphoria you were making out with someone. It was in a dark corner and you had no idea who it was. All you knew was that your mouths were moving together eagerly. Suddenly, you were being tugged away, much to your dismay, because it did feel very nice especially while you were under this high.

“Cait…” you huffed as she apologized to the person you were with as she dragged you away.

“I think it’s time to go.” She said against your ear as she chuckled and you mumbled something about not wanting to go yet. “Babe, I just saw Harry and Taylor across the bar. We should go.” She said to you and that made your heart tighten and ache. 

Your smile dropped and you glanced around the busy room. When you heard a British accent behind you, you whipped around hoping to see Harry, but it was someone else. Then, you thought you heard his laugh and you turned in another direction, but maybe it was just in your head. You were at the peak of your high, so things were very murky. And as you looked for Harry, that nice feeling was starting to turn ugly. Caitlyn realized what was happening and grabbed your face in her hands and your gaze met hers for a few seconds.

“Hey, they’re all the way across the room. They’re nowhere near here.” She assured and you nodded.

“I need to use the bathroom before we go.” You said and she nodded.

“OK, c’mon.” She said grabbing your hand and guiding you through the crowd and to the bathroom. “Give me your bag, I’ll call your car. I’ll be right over there by the security check.” She pointed and you nodded a few times as you handed over your purse.

You walked into the bathroom and the white lights over the sink were far too bright for your overly dilated pupils. You hurried into a stall and struggled a bit with getting your dress enough out of the way so you could use the bathroom. And as you sat in the stall alone with your thoughts you started to feel cold and trembly. Your ears were ringing in the relative silence of the bathroom and you felt like the stall was starting to get smaller. You sped things up and hurried out to wash your hands, trying your very hardest to ignore your erratic heartbeat and the churning of your stomach. You didn’t even bother with drying your hands, you just smeared them against your dress as you rushed out of the bathroom. You were ready to get out of this situation before it brought on a full blown bad trip. 

But you came to a screeching halt when you saw Harry chatting animately with Rita Ora and Taika Waititi just a few feet away from you. They were laughing, heads knocked back in enjoyment. You were frozen for a few seconds as reality caught up to you and you glanced around for Taylor. She wasn’t in your line of sight yet, you’d wait in the bathroom. You took a few unsteady steps back before deciding that was the best course of action. You twirled around and hurried back, your heart was hammering in your chest and your breathing was completely shallow. You felt your body trembling like a dying leaf in the wind and your stomach was twisting as you stumbled back into the bathroom. Much to your misfortunate, you were met with Taylor drying her hands. You sighed shakily, about to turn back around but she glanced over with a lovely smile, but when she realized it was you it dropped entirely from her face in a moment. You turned around to leave again but then remembered Harry was actually right outside.

“You were with him just now, weren’t you?” She asked you with a frown and disappointment drenching her tone.

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach and you whipped back around and rushed past her into a stall and just started to throw up. You felt completely overwhelmed and overstimulated. Feeling as much as you did now was not to your benefit. But you were more than grateful to hear her footsteps receding as you spat out the sour taste from your mouth. You wiped your mouth with some toilet paper and flushed away your mess, trying your best not to get sick again just from seeing the mess that had come out of you. You were alone now and took your time to rinse your mouth and your hands, hoping they’d go before you had to face them again.

***************

HARRY’S POV:

Harry glanced over to the hallway for the bathrooms to see Taylor coming out with an unreadable expression on her face. He was still smiling from the laugh he had just had with Rita and Taika before they headed out.

“You were with Y/N. Weren’t you?” She asked with an accusatory tone and he looked baffled by this accusation.

“Babe, no. I’ve been standing here this whole time-”

“Well then why did she get one look at me and get sick?” She asked with confusion and a frown on her face. Harry’s face scrunched with concern.

“I didn’t.” He said and she looked skeptical, “I swear!” He insisted and she rolled her lips together for a moment.

“I want to leave.” She said decisively and he nodded.

“OK.” He nodded, “I-is Y/N alright though? Does she need any help or-” Taylor walked off towards the exit leaving him mid sentence. He was reluctant as he followed after her and glanced back down the hallway of the bathroom before rushing after Taylor who was practically out the door now. He was making his way towards the exit when he saw Caitlyn standing by the door on her phone. Surely she’d come along with you. Taylor hurried outside and Harry stopped for a moment to greet Caitlyn.

“Cait!” He called her name and she glanced up and her eyes widened and she glanced around quickly before she smiled at him as he came up and hugged her.

“Hey! How are you?” She asked as they pulled away.

“M'alright. Ummm, Y/N had a run in with Tay in the bathroom.” He said and Caitlyn frowned.

“Oh, sorry.” She said glancing over to Taylor who was now looking at them expectantly. She offered a smile and Taylor returned it before quickly glancing down to her shoes.

“She said something about Y/N getting sick. Maybe you should go check on her if she hasn’t texted you.” He said.

“Oh shit, thank you. I actually have her phone with me, we’re waiting for her car.” She explained.

“Then yeah, please check on her.” He said and she nodded.

“Yeah, she’s pretty fucked up too. But ummm, is that why you guys are leaving?” She asked and he nodded.

“Tay thinks I spoke to her…which I didn’t. I didn’t even see her tonight, I swear it.” He said and she nodded.

“I know, Harry. I believe you.” She assured and he sighed.

“Thank you.” He said and she smiled at him with sympathy.

“Alright, now get going.”

“Please, make sure she’s OK.”

“I will.” Caitlyn smiled and they kissed cheeks before he hurried out. 

Taylor watched as Caitlyn hurried back inside and then turned into the hallway that led to the bathrooms. She swallowed thickly and hugged her arms around herself when Harry tried to grab her hand when he came up beside her.

“I didn’t speak to her, babe.” He insisted again with frustration. “Did she say something to you?”

“No.” She responded monotonously. “Just call the car, please.” She said and he nodded and did just that, “Five minutes.” He informed her once he hung up and she nodded. 

A few moments later Caitlyn was rushing you out of the venue, but even the chatter outside didn’t mask the sharp inhales of you trying to breathe through your crying. You two hurried past him and Taylor and into the car that was now waiting by the curb. She opened up the door for you and helped you get settled in the car. Harry found himself taking a few steps towards you but stopped himself. He wanted to see you, even if it was just for a second. But Caitlyn scooted in behind you and mouthed one final ‘thank you’ before shutting the door so that you could take off.

The car ride back to his hotel was tense and uncomfortably quiet. He genuinely didn’t think that Taylor had any reason to be upset tonight. This was a huge event, lots of people were bound to be there. And still, he hadn’t seen or even spoken to you once in the entire time. He didn’t think it was wrong that he was concerned for you when she told him that you’d gotten sick. He would’ve been concerned for anyone who was in that position, especially at a party like this where he knew there were drugs and alcohol around. He tried not to be upset at her though because he had no idea what was going on in her head that made her upset. 

When they got into their hotel room she immediately slipped out of her heels and headed into the bathroom. He heard the door shut and then the shower come on. He made his way over and listened through the wood to see if she was crying, but she wasn’t. At least there was that. Maybe she just needed to cool down from the situation because truly there was nothing that he did wrong. He debated for several minutes whether he should call Caitlyn to check on you or not. And who was he kidding, he needed to check in.

“Hey H.” She answered him right away, “Don’t you worry, she’s alright. She’s just having a shower now.” Is the first thing she said and he smiled a bit.

“Good. Nothing bad happened right? With Tay?”

“No. She said that when she was leaving the bathroom she walked out and saw you waiting in front of the hallway, so she hurried back into bathroom. Y/N didn’t want to stir up any trouble by saying hi or just being near you if Taylor was around. But when she came back into the bathroom, kind of in shock from seeing you right there, Taylor was there and she asked if you’d just been together, that’s all. And well, Y/N said she just felt trapped and got anxious from the fucking molly she took and just got sick. She was just crying because you know how much she hates throwing up. Not because you were with your girlfriend.” She assured him.

“Yeah.” He smiled as he recalled this detail about you, “The throwing up is probably why Taylor thinks we spoke. Just from her reaction to the question, I guess.”

“Maybe so…but in all honesty, we party hopped all night because we were trying to avoid you. And when I saw you guys when I went to the bar I told Y/N we needed to leave.”

“Oh…” he said with some hurt radiating through his chest.

“Yeah…S’just that after we spoke last time I just didn’t want to give her any reasons to doubt you or to think Y/N was meddling or something. Obviously, Y/N doesn’t want to ignore you, but she also doesn’t want to complicate things for you. But…”

“Shit happens.” Harry sighed.

“Yeah.” 

“Well, I’m glad she’s fine. She’s coming down alright?”

“Yeah, she’s good so far. I’ll take good care of her.” Caitlyn assured him. 

“I know you will.” He smiled.

“And are you alright?” She asked him.

“I think so…we haven’t spoken about it yet, so we’ll see. I just- I don’t want you guys to think Taylor’s a bad person for this. She’s not usually like this.” He explained.

“We don’t, H. She’s just navigating this situation the way it comes, you know? She has every right to feel apprehensive.”

“Yeah. Thank you for understanding.” he sighed.

“Of course.” She responded.

“Well thanks for answering, I just want to check in. And I’m sorry if we ruined your evening…” he apologized with a regretful sigh.

“Who are you talking to?” Harry heard from behind him and he glanced back to see Taylor wrapped up in her towel.

“My friend Caitlyn.” He said and she looked skeptical.

“It’s cool, H. Go deal with that.”

“Thanks. Good night.” Harry said before hanging up. He stood and then handed his phone over to her to see the call history. “See.”

“But Y/N is with her.”

“She was in the shower.” He said and she bit her lip, “I didn’t talk to her. I didn’t even see her until they walked out, babe.” He said.

“And why are you apologizing for ruining their evening? Now we have to walk on egg shells to protect her feelings?” She asked him and he sighed.

“No, I’m apologizing for that because they had been party hopping all night precisely to avoid running into us and causing you to think something was up.” He said signaling between them and she frowned.

“Is that how you’re telling it to people? That I’m just angry about your ex?” She asked him.

“No! I mentioned to Caitlyn the thing that you told me before about the song and the paps. I just needed to be sure that Y/N wasn’t trying to get a reaction of me or you. I know she’s not like that, but when people are upset they can sometimes do things that are out of character.” He said looking to her, hoping she’d catch his drift. She scoffed out a laugh and headed back into the bedroom. “Babe…” he sighed as he sat on the bed as she dug her pajamas out in silence. “Did you confront her about being with me tonight?” He asked her.

“I’m not going to feel bad for that, Harry. I wasn’t rude about it, I just asked.”

“I’m sure you weren’t but-”

“She was probably going to though-”

“For fucks sake! She was running back into the bathroom to avoid having to run into me!” He shouted, “She saw me and decided to wait in there until I was gone. She’s the one walking on fucking egg shells as if she’s the one driving the wedge deeper and deeper into our relationship!” 

“So you’re saying this is my fault?” She asked him with a confused frown and he sighed.

“Tonight, yes.” He said. “I have…done what I can. Everything you’ve asked to try and make this work, to make it better. To have you believe me-”

“Harry, she’s still in love with you!” She shouted in exasperation.

“And what?! She’s happy for me! She’s happy for us! She didn’t delete my number and hasn’t reached out at all! Look at the fucking lengths she tried to go through tonight just to ensure that we weren’t uncomfortable! For fucks sake, just let it go! Please!” He was panting from how frustrated he was. He swore that smoke was blowing out of his ears as all of his pent up frustration reached its boiling point. He felt that he had been as understanding and as patient as possible, but it had been months of the same thing. She bit down on the inside of her cheek for a few moments. “I’m sorry for shouting at-”

“I think we both know that this has been over.” She said softly and his chest tightened. “I don’t like myself anymore.” She said with a frown, “I hate feeling insecure in us or just like I’m second best.” She sniffled. “I know you’ve never said that to me but just the fact that your heart’s in two different places makes me feel that way. Believe me, I have been trying to not let it bother me or just to understand how this can work for you, but I can’t.” She explained.

“I’m so sorry.” He apologized and she shrugged. “I never meant to make you feel that way. I just…I wanted to be honest with you, I felt bad for keeping that from you-”

“I know. I think you did the right thing in telling me but…I just, I can’t make peace with that.” 

“I get it. I do love you, though. You have to know that.”

“Yeah. But not like you love her.” She said and he sighed, “Babe, if you loved me like you love her then keeping your distance wouldn’t feel like a sacrifice to you. And clearly that’s how you see it. Even now, instead of checking on me you called your friend to check on her? I mean…” she let out a sardonic laugh.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to check on you, I just figured you wanted some space.” He explained.

“So you check on me and ask if I need space, H.” She argued and he swallowed thickly and nodded.

“You’re right.” He said.

“H, I can’t keep doing this to myself. I can’t even recognize myself.” She said with a frown, “Like I…I feel like I’m losing myself in trying to keep you and I’m not okay with that. I’m sorry.” She sniffled and he nodded.

“Don’t be sorry. I get it. It’s my fault.” He said with a sad smile.

“Yeah.” She whispered and bit down on her lip. "No hard feelings?" she asked and he shook his head.

"Of course not." he smiled.

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[starions]

i didn't find my love, but i still made it this far without it.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x gn!spider!reader

words ; 1432

summary ; in every dimension you are loved dearly by all, and in every dimension, miguel gets you killed.

tags ; angst, mentions of death (reader dies... a lot), miguel is a stalker (with good intentions), allusions to comic!miguel, mentions of cheating, y/n isn't used, gender neutral pronouns

han's note ; i wrote this with my self-insert spidersona spiderette in mind lol but i tried to make reader as vague as possible <3 also i haven't written in a while and it shows. title is an ethel cain lyric. stream preacher's daughter.

;

The first time he had seen you, you were wearing a lab coat and helping him with his genetic tests at the Alchemax headquarters; the second time, your face was broadcasted on an “in memoriam” video on New York’s biggest news channel; and the third was you in your Spider suit, swinging around NYC. He never thought he’d see that face again.

The glow of orange screens burned into his vision, the beginnings of a migraine brewing behind his eyes. Miguel’s eyes narrowed at the screen, watching as you take down a villain in your dimension. You moved with grace, tying the villain up in your webs with ease, before turning them into the police. He mentally noted some skills that you could work on, like becoming more aware of the blindspot you had on your left side or cutting back on the quick quips that riled up the villain even more. Nevertheless, he hummed in approval, clicking off the video. He was in view of another window this time; you as you exited your apartment’s back window in your Spider suit. He gritted his teeth; you treated your job as Earth-799’s Spider-Person with such carelessness, such negligence. Yes, you had a good skill set that could become great with more work, more practice, but the indifference you had about concealing your identity irked him. Your mask only covered half your face, for God’s sake, and your hair wasn’t covered at all. Was this a game to you?

“You’re going to tear a chunk of that desk off again,” Lyla said, flickering above his shoulder. He grunted, looking down to see the talons extended from the pads of his fingers sinking into the material of the desk. He quickly yanked his hands off the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. Lyla looked him up and down, grinning mischievously. “You should just let them join already, instead of stalking them.”

“I’m not stalking them,” he retorted, closing out the window.

“Right right right,” Lyla responded. “What’s this then?” She snapped her fingers, and videos and videos of you pop into view; you shaking hands with Captain Stacy; you swinging around your Earth’s New York City; you enjoying your morning coffee on your balcony; you. You. You— 

“You have a problem dude.”

“It’s not like that,” Miguel said, a growl seeping into his words. “I’m just… making sure they are safe.”

“You could make them safer if you just let them join~”

“No.” Miguel rubbed his temples, glancing up to stare at you on the monitor.

Lyla tsked, checking her nails as if she was in dire need of a manicure. “How could I forget you had this self-loathing, cynical nature about you. Shielding them from yourself is just going to drive the both of us insane.”

“Lyla,” Miguel said, “activate ‘do not disturb’ mode.”

“Whatever, stalker.” With a roll of her eyes, Lyla flickered out of view, leaving Miguel alone. With only you.

His eyes are drawn to an advertisement in the background of one of the videos. You, in your Spider suit, advertising some energy drink on a giant screen in the middle of Times Square. Another screen showed you advertising some sort of athletic wear, and he could see someone dressed in your suit down below, taking pictures with tourists. Sure, Spider-People in almost every dimension take on advertisements, sell merchandise, and sign autographs. But everyone loved you, everyone wanted to get close to you. You even got J. Jonah Jameson to soften up to you with your cushy job as editor of The Daily Bugle.

In every dimension, everyone admired you, adored you, even. You were cherished by all.

And in every dimension, Miguel was the cause of your death.

Miguel gritted his teeth, a fang threatening to break the skin of his lip. The flood of incoming memories was doing nothing to dull the pain behind his eyes, and he slammed a fist into one of the monitors, watching as it flickered once, and all of the orange screens turned to black.

He held his head in his hand, mind drifting to the first dimension he had found you in. His dimension.

Absolutely intelligent, hard-working, ambitious, you joined Alchemax as an intern with the goal of being a top geneticist, like himself. As you moved up in the ranks, you became a member of Miguel’s team, tracked to design a serum that could allow anyone to gain superpowers. Miguel viewed you as a vital member of his team; obedient without needing to be, kind and optimistic despite the workload assigned to them all, and one to watch. With your brains and work ethic, you would have been at the top of Alchemax in no time.

Would have. It all went wrong, and it was his fault. You and him were both against using felons as test subjects for the serums, but it was out of both of your hands. You were only supposed to take the blood of the man they had injected with the serum, with Miguel monitoring the screen from outside the room. It happened instantaneously. The man in the hospital bed reacted negatively to the serum, growing the legs of a spider in seconds and grabbing you by the throat. Miguel watched in horror as the man wrapped his spider legs around your neck, slamming you over and over again against the cool tile walls.

The next thing he remembered was security gunning the man down, and him cradling you in his arms.

That was the first of the tragedies that plagued his life. When he decided to abandon his dimension for another one, one where he wasn’t afflicted by the role of Spider-Man, he was not expecting to find a dimension where he and you had a family together. For a split second, he imagined a world where he had taken you up on the offer of having a drink after work, if he answered those silly pictures you sent him more often. A world where the two of you had a family, and he didn’t have to take one over.

That thought collapsed when he saw what became of you in this new world. Miguel—this version of himself—didn’t love you. Not like he should have. After years of marriage, you discovered his lies, his deceit, his cheating. You seperated from him immediately, moving into your sister’s place as you began divorce and custody proceedings. Then, one night, while you were driving to your old apartment to pick up Gabriella, you were struck by a drunk driver.

You, this dimension’s favored meteorologist, were mourned for weeks. News channels across New York showed your face and aired your best segments in memoriam. New York City’s treasured weather forecaster, dead at the hands of a drunk driver, leaving behind a devastated husband and daughter. Even in this dimension, you were loved by all.

Miguel had killed you twice, and didn’t even know the second time. If that version of him hadn’t been so despicable, hadn’t thrown away something so precious, then you wouldn’t have been driving that night. It was his fault.

So when he saw that dimension’s Miguel be gunned down, what was he to do? Leave Gabriella to be an orphan? He couldn’t do that. Not to you. She’d be loved by a regretful father, and your memory would be kept alive until he died.

How naive he was.

“Earth to Miguel,” a voice chimed. Miguel stopped his self-inflicted mental torture to glare at Lyla.

“I thought I put you on ‘do not disturb’.”

“Have you not seen your watch blinking? Anomaly detected on Earth-799. Jess needs backup.”

His breath hitched, eyes trailing down to his Gizmo where he found several missed calls from Jess. “Send Hobie,” he said, voice lacking emotion. The thought of seeing you face to face made his stomach churn.

“He’s not available,” Lyla replied, pushing her heart shaped sunglasses up.

“Then send Peter B.,” he said, annoyance seeping into his voice.

“He’s in a ‘Daddy and Me’ class; he sent pictures, wanna see?” Lyla asked, pulling out her phone.

“No!” Miguel snapped, rubbing his forehead. “Send Ben, send Lego Peter, send Pav! Send anyone but me.”

Lyla tutted, shaking her head. “No one is available. Jess needs you, Miguel.”

Miguel cursed under his breath, his holographic mask suddenly covering his face. He tapped a few buttons on his Gizmo, eyes squinting at the brightness of the portal that opened next to his workstation. He took a step into the portal, praying that this time would be different.

[despairots]

━━━━━━━━ incorrect quotes with our core four + spidey! reader.

core four x spidey! reader. fluff and a crackshot i felt guilty for mot posting today so have this short incorrect quotes with our core four and you! lifes been kicking my ass and i almost gave ip on playing the clarinet cuz i was not doing do well. also regarding my guidelines and rules: please read them. mostly platonic but you could see it as romantic.

i’m sick and tired of you guys requesting things that i don’t write. ask another writer who does because im not gonna write it, your request will be deleted. as much as i enjoy you guys sending requests some cross the lines im sorry.

incorrect quotes with our core four and our spidey! reader.

gwen ━━━━━━━━ alright, important question for our friendship. when you go to the movie theatres, do you ask for extra butter or regular butter? or no butter?

pav ━━━━━━━━ i put skittles—not skittles— m&ms with the popcorn.

[name] ━━━━━━━━ alright, i’m gonna remove pav from this dimension.

pav ━━━━━━━━ hold on, pleas—

miles ━━━━━━━━ laughing.

hobie ━━━━━━━━ you didn’t give mans the chance to explain himself.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

miles ━━━━━━━━ we need more help. maybe i should call my other friends.

[name] ━━━━━━━━ … your what?

miles ━━━━━━━━ my friends?

pav ━━━━━━━━ are they saying “friends”?

gwen ━━━━━━━━ i think his being sarcastic.

hobie ━━━━━━━━ no, no, no, this is delirium. hey, miles! all of your friends are in this room.

miles ━━━━━━━━ i have other friends! you asked me to make new friends, i made new friends! it was a task, i complete tasks.

[name] ━━━━━━━━ i’m not sure ganke is a “friends.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[name] ━━━━━━━━ what did you guys get in your yearbook?

miles ━━━━━━━━ prettiest smile.

pav ━━━━━━━━ nicest personality.

gwen ━━━━━━━━ most likely to start a bar fight.

hobie ━━━━━━━━ least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one.

[name] ━━━━━━━━ i thought you hated labels?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[name] ━━━━━━━━ *accidentally shots a web in miles face*

[name] ━━━━━━━━ *trying to decide between saying “are you okay?” and “i’m fucking sorry.”*

[name] ━━━━━━━━ ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?!

miles ━━━━━━━━ what’s wrong with you!?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

miles ━━━━━━━━ favourite horror movie?

hobie ━━━━━━━━ it.

pav ━━━━━━━━ saw.

gwen ━━━━━━━━ annabelle.

[name] ━━━━━━━━ high school musical. after watching it, i spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and i’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

miles ━━━━━━━��� treat spiders the way you want to be treated.

[name] ━━━━━━━━ killed without hesitation.

miles ━━━━━━━━ no.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[name] ━━━━━━━━ come on, i wasn’t drugged last night.

gwen ━━━━━━━━ you were flirting with miles.

[name] ━━━━━━━━ so what? he’s my partner.

gwen ━━━━━━━━ you asked them if they were single.

[name] ━━━━━━━━ …

gwen ━━━━━━━━ and cried when he said he wasn’t.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

pav ━━━━━━━━ there are seven chairs and ten kids. what do you do?

gwen ━━━━━━━━ have everyone stand.

miles ━━━━━━━━ ask to bring more chairs.

hobie ━━━━━━━━ the most important ones can sit down.

[name] ━━━━━━━━ kill three.

[flyingwargle]

bokuaka fanfic recommendations!

i am uncharacteristically nervous about posting this haha i read a lot of fanfic and always enjoy looking at other people's recommendations, so i thought, why not share some of my favorites?

all these recs are sfw!

oneshots!

banana bread by leuralo_1 gen. 2.1k words. bokuto pov. bokuto and his roommates have too many bananas and akaashi takes the train overnight to make banana bread with it. that's it, that's the fic. it's so cute, i'm begging you to read it.

spending all, spending all my time (loving you) by hyeyu gen. 3.4k words. bokuto pov. akaashi is a dimension traveler and gets nailed in the head by bokuto's serve, so he stays until he fixes his dimension travel device. one of my first bokuaka fics that i read, very cute and the pining is palpable.

in the same room, at the same time by quel_nightmare teen. 21.5k. alternating pov. marriage proposal fic! i read this all in one sitting and my heart was ready to burst by the end. very cute, i won't spoil anything other than that <3

astronomy in reverse (it was me who was discovered) by flumes teen. 22.1k. akaashi pov. a non-linear narrative about akaashi pining over bokuto from high school to the future. very poetic and lyrical, with the boys discovering their feelings for each other in the end. i also read this all in one sitting.

longfics!

background check by ghostystarr gen. 2 chapters, 8k words. msby4 changes bokuto's lockscreen picture for fun since he doesn't lock his phone, but the game changes when he changes it to a picture of akaashi. a very fun and cute fic with the msby4 gang helping their bro out.

truth is such a violent force by inaminute teen. 8 chapters, 41k. it starts with akaashi's 1st year at fukurodani and explores his dysfunctional family, growing relationship with bokuto, and deals with homophobia. i love the fukurodani boys in this, and how supportive they are of one another. there's also a sequel that is just as heart-wrenching as this one! (both have happy endings, don't worry)

flightless owl by volleydorkscentral teen. 31 chapters, 57.6k words. bokuto gravely injures his leg and has to sit the rest of his third year out. this fic focuses on his recovery, his relationship with akaashi developing, and overcoming the pain of his injury. has a happy ending, as well!

the way you look at me by mocaw teen. 36 chapters, 79.2k words. bokuto sees train guy every night on his commute after practice until he decides to take the first step and introduce himself. this fic is the reason why i ship bokuaka. it's slowburn, deals with anxiety and ptsd, developing relationships, and is just beautifully written (i am also extremely biased because this shaped my undergrad years). please read it, i'm begging you.

the death of our hands by bershlate teen. 25 chapters, 109k words. this longfic explores akaashi's ocd, his dysfunctional family, and an amazing oc older brother, along with his relationship with bokuto. i read this recently and finished it in a few days because of how gripping the story is <3

i'll let you shatter me with your pain by kuromantic teen. 23 chapters, 160.4k words. akaashi is an empath and when he brushes against bokuto, he gets the biggest shock of emotions of his life. this fic is very heavy, dealing with abuse, malnutrition, trauma, and homophobia. it has a happy ending, and our boys do get together <3

i'll reblog this from time to time to add more recs as i keep reading! of course, feel free to check out my own bokuaka fics >:3 i might post more?? for other pairings and general recs?? and for genshin too since i have a lot there haha okay enjoy bye!

[dragonshoardofworks]

DannyMerMay 2024

Day 1: Insect/Anchor

The return of Little Baby Moth! (From last year DannyMay)

Something happened since last time the two of them met, so LBMo is reasonably surprised to see Little Baby Man Mer's new form... or is this just an alternative dimension iteration of LBM (by @tourettesdog)? 🤔

(Keep reading to find the answer!)

@pikakaistudios Little Baby Mer inspired me in doing my own, so Kudos and credits where are due!

More fanarts and lore under the cut because it was getting long...

(^～^;)ゞ

Prompt for DannyMay by @dannymayevent and MerMay by @vladdyissues.

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

Since I'm a serial procrastinator and I wanted to be sure the art pieces were at least decent/accurate, I was almost late (but thank CW that I did, because some of them had the wrong orca-pattern and I would have brought disgrace upon myself if I published anything not done right since orcas are one of my favorite animals).

That being said, let's continue the DannyMerMay journey!

Day 12: Time Travel/Seafood

My poor Mer-boy got yoinked temporalily into the past when he was still Danny (so even before the "normal" LBM-fication) and he's feeling reeeaaally distressed at the act of practically cannibalism that his past-self is committing...

(≧∇≦)

Day 2+4+29: Wish/Starfish + Wander/Night + Fireworks/Bioluminescence

Wandering in the night, some interesting encounters are bound to happen...

I wonder what would happen if you wish upon a(n alien) star(fish)...

(≧∇≦)

Day 19+20: Iron/Pearl + Pitch AU/Abyss

LBMer found a his rightful Crown (of Fire) sunk into the depths of the ocean!

But since it was rusty and forgotten, what better way to restore it than ghostly mother pearl?

(Works like ghostly ice, but it's an exclusive power of LBMer.)

(The Crown got bigger than canon, but he smol!)

Day 26: Shoes/Camouflage

They say that imitation is one of the best form of flattery, but when you don't want to get caught by a certain dimensional hopper (and be mistaken for one of his foes), it's the best way to blend in!

(Octopi can camouflage in ways that make you think that magic is real...)

ฅ^≧ﻌ≦^ฅ

(Little Baby Terror unfortunately got caught in the same "accident" that LBM did, so they generally prefer to stick together-ish in case they need help.)

Day 16+22: Glowing Veins/Courtship + Song Lyrics/Songs

I couldn't help myself and sneaked in some Everlasting Trio for the soul.

After all, LBM (and therefore LBMer) is still Danny, even if he has new form(s) and instincts.

They do incarnate the "Would you still love me if I was a worm?", don't they?

(◡̀_◡́)

Song: A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay

(It feels such a Danny song to use, plus I checked how orcas court and while there's some posturing, they also sing! It felt only natural from there... >:3c)

Day 11: Mutation/Shell(s)

And finally: the answer!

LBM found this weird shell on the beach while they were on vacation, but when he checked it (read: nibbed it), it reacted and tooted a magical cloud that mutated our Little Baby Man into a Mer!

(The same fate happened to Dani/Little Baby Menace and Dan/Little Baby Terror, changing them into a Seahorse Mer and Octopus Mer respectively.

I've got a lineart done of them for another prompt, but I didn't manage in time to clean and color it yet, along with a couple of others... ( ≧Д≦) )

This has two versions because I couldn't decide which was better. @teacupsandstarlight suggested the first because of the transforming smoke around our boi, but since I saved both, I told myself: why not upload both?

For now, that's all! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

I still have some linearts to finish/digitalize/color, but at least I contributed to these two fantastic events, hope y'all enjoyed them and my works!

Hope to type ya soon! ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

[paintbrushnebula]

I was initially indifferent to the "Miles is the Gwen Stacy to Spider-Gwen's Peter Parker" theory I've seen a few times, but after giving it two minutes of thought I actually realize that that would be a very interesting route for the story to take

Because the thing with Spider-Gwen is that the only way Gwen Stacy lives is if she's the one with the powers. This also means she's the one who suffers the great loss instead. Which as the movie has made clear, is something she fears repeating more than anything; this fear is her main motivation behind all of her actions towards Miles in ATSV. And the last moment the two have before the Nueva York train fight is them repeating the iconic "Peter catching Gwen" moment, but the roles are reversed, like the tables have been turned on who is going to have to save who in the end.

Also, sidebar, me just rambling here, but the lyrics of "Calling" by Metro Boomin at the end of the movie seem to be from Gwen's POV post the events of the movie. I keep thinking back to the lyric "it's my fault, I made you fall for me," which obviously is meant to be Gwen feeling responsible for what happened to Miles, because if he hadn't become so attached to her then he wouldn't have followed her across dimensions (which was not actually her fault). But I also kinda see this lyric having another meaning; it's Gwen expressing regret for siding with the society instead of standing with Miles. Her actions were understandable ofc, since siding with Miguel's orders was the only way to avoid being expelled from the Society and sent back to her dimension and facing her dad and thus risking her actual life. But this meant letting Miles take the fall instead of her. So this lyric is like Gwen saying to Miles, it's my fault, I let you take the fall for me.

So now the roles the two were playing have been reversed.

If this theory ends up being the case, then you essentially have a Gwen Stacy who's been dealt an arguably worse fate than all the other Gwen Stacys; one that maybe Gwen herself would consider a fate worse than death (something she already fears greatly), which is being the one who suffers the loss and has to keep getting up, who always manages to save everyone except the people that actually matter most to her, who's doomed to watch all her weak, fragile loved ones die while her durable, enhanced superhuman body stubbornly keeps living.