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vee6lolz · 24 days

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𝖇𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝖍𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝖇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬.

summary; after falling in love with spencer reid, you navigate the challenges that come with your relationship. While you cherish your moments together, the rough patches can be hard to ignore. One day, in an effort to find clarity, you go shopping and unexpectedly discover something world shattering. But before you can share the news with Spencer, he comes home with a shocking revelation that could change everything between you.

cw!!; +18 content, minors dni!, spencer reid x reader, angst, cliffhanger ending, breakups, mentions of drug use, mentions emetophobia warning; vomiting -- mentions of pregnancy -- Y/N HAS A GIRL KISSER BSF !

. w/c: 4.1k -- don't forget to like / reblog !! this is not proof read + english is not my first language

You and Spencer had been privately dating for seven months. At first, it was exciting. sneaking around, leaving parties early to go hook up in the bathroom, the birthday sex, apology sex, apology for apologizing with sex sex, it was easy, it was simple—you both met through a party he and his team was invited to by your best friend Ciara, who was friends with the one and only Penelope Garcia. you both got to talking and by the end of the night, you were snuggled up in his bed with his dick in your mouth. and he learned two things that night. 1. he had never had head that brought him so much ecstasy. and two, by the way your outgoing demeanor fit perfectly with being his more shy and non-direct, you were the one for him and he would've been a fool to let you slip through his fingers. those late-night study sessions, stolen kisses in dimly lit hallways, and quiet moments over coffee made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. but the moment that you hit the three month mark, everything went downhill. and usually, at six months, its supposed to be good again, right? wrong.

the past few months had turned into a whirlwind of arguments. It felt like every time you talked, it spiraled into a fight over something that should have been minor. “You don’t understand what I’m going through, Spencer!” you yelled one evening after a tough day at work where he seemed more focused on the case than on how you were feeling. “I do, understand [y/n] I just don't care. Not everything has to be about you.” that night, you both had shouted over each other until the early hours of the morning, hearts racing, voices raised, and emotions running high. the tension felt suffocating. and to ease it you tried to have makeup sex, and he started an argument while literally inside you because he felt like you were faking orgasms and doing it in a obvious way to make him feel bad; you were.

It wasn’t just work stress that fueled the fire; it was the pressure of hiding your hardships relationship from your colleagues, the weight of lying to your friends, and the constant fear of him leaving. and the fear of you leaving for him only made him resent you more. sometimes, it felt like you were living a double life, and you didn’t know how to bridge the gap between your love for Spencer and the isolation that secrecy brought. the make-up moments after the fights were fleeting, filled with hugs and quiet apologies as you tried to mend the shaky ground you were standing on. you’d find yourselves wrapped in each other’s arms, promises lingering in the air that things would change, but deep down, you both knew nothing had really shifted.

but today, everything felt heavier than usual. you had woken up to yet another silent treatment from spencer, both of you too stubborn to reach out to each other first. the anxiety had burrowed deep in your chest, making it hard to breathe. you could sense it—Ciara had noticed. when she came over, she was met with a hurried and agitated spence who only muttered a cold greeting before walking out the door as fast as he opened it for her. her footsteps where light and quick, making her way towards your bedroom where she heard retching and coughing.

you spit into the toilet bowl, groaning in discomfort as everything you had last week came back to haunt you. you looked up at Ciara as she held your hair back, getting her fingers tangled as she took a moment to try her best to untangle them without scalping you. You sat there in front with your head down as you dry gagged, and once you were safe, you reached up and flu shed the toilet.

Ciara rubbed your back for a little before pulling your head to rest on her chest, planting sweet kisses on your forehead. you giggle at the sensation and make tsk sounds. “If you were a man,” you muttered, to which she rolls her eyes at you and lets you go with a smile, helping you stand up, she runs some water so you pat your mouth with it and spit out all the yucky residue left over. she starts asking questions and all you can think back at was this morning. it pained you and you felt your heart sink the more you thought back at it, you realize that him expressing his feelings, yelling, insulting, or even cursing you would've been better. he just left you, in silence. he didn't acknowledge you, and it just made you feel terrible. you looked at Ciara, overcome with emotions which got you a confused look. “What's going on with you--”

“He didn't even look at me, cee.” You muttered as tears filled your eyes uncontrollably. your emotions overwhelmed you as you melted into her arms, you were holding her incredibly tight, she probably wouldn't be able to breathe if you gave her an oxygen tank. She scrambled over her words trying to find away to not pass out from the lack of blood going to her brain because you were quite literally blocking any blood flow possible. She tapped your back and you released your death grip, to which she exhaled heavily.

“Who, What? What are we talking about?”. you stared up at her with a expression of depression, not moving your lips to answer her question. It gave her the answer alone. “That's not... like him.”. Scoffing, you shook your head and wiped your tears, your mood switching from self-pity to pure and undeniable anger. “It's exactly, like him. Actually.”. She tried her best to calm you down but you couldn't, you just walked out of the bathroom and fell face first on the bed, screaming and letting out all of your frustration on his cotton sheets. You started mumbling out of intense anger, and Ciara just stood there, flinching with every curse that flew through your lips as if you were going to reach backwards and bite her.

It took you twenty-and-some minutes to calm down. It took you three to go back to being sad and depressed. Your mood swings were seriously giving her whiplash. You sat up and heaved, sobbed, flew your arms around like a toddler. Ciara sat with you and let you sob on her chest until you start hyperventilating, she blew on your face so you could catch your breathe, shushing you to soothe your tears. Your brain felt fuzzy, your senses has softened.

The only thing that you felt was the immense pounding on your head you couldn't help but feel. “How about we go on a little drive, yeah?” you looked up at her with your red eyes glistening was a tear fell down your cheek, you nodded. you needed fresh air. “Yeah?” She spoke in a soft voice, kissing your head. “Alright go put on some clothes ill be out here,”

Ciara sat behind the wheel, the engine humming softly as she pulled away from spencer's place. The cool breeze wafted through the slightly open window, sending a refreshing shiver through you. You let it wash over you, momentarily grounding you in the present. Still, your mind felt fuzzy, caught in a haze that blurred your thoughts and emotions. It was as if you were floating, untethered from reality, with everything around you blurring into a muddled backdrop.

the streets rushed by, and while the world outside was alive with the chatter of people and the vibrant colors of storefronts, you found yourself lost in your own silence. You stared at the trees lining the road, their branches dancing in the breeze, but even their movement felt distant and out of reach. each passing moment felt like an echo, reverberating through your mind but leaving no traces of clarity.

Ciara’s was talking, filled with energy and it made you feel oh, so worse because you were not listening. “No, dude, I'm being so serious. I told her that she can either get her shit together and stop acting like a little kid or she can pack her shit and leave because I've had enough crazy girlfriends to know it is not for the fucking weak.” you barely registered the words. they floated in one ear and out the other, your focus remaining hazy. you shifted in your seat slightly, trying to push the swirling emotions away, yet they clung to you like a shadow.

“You’d think we were fighting we were fighting over me burning her house down, no. A miss call, a singular miss call and I called her back immediately. And of course, she chose to get her act together because... honestly, would you leave me?” she joked, grinding in her seat to pop her ass a little;

the corners of your mouth twitched, but you didn’t have the energy to respond; the effort felt monumental. As the scenery shifted from commercial buildings to the broader expanses of the mall, you caught yourself wishing you could feel that lightness again. The breeze slipping through the window felt nice, but every now and then, a wave of discomfort coursed through you, reminding you of the things you were trying to forget.

Ciara continued talking, sharing the latest gossip, her voice a steady stream of sound that mingled with the whoosh of passing cars. “and after that, she tried to hookup with me as an “apology”. if she could lick my pussy a couple times and I'm going to immediately forgive her... she's right.”

Still, you remained silent, lost in thought. The feelings swirling within you were too tangled to unravel—the confusion, the sadness, the weight of it all. It felt heavy, and as you drove closer to the mall, the world outside turned brighter, but for you, it remained shrouded in dimness.

As Ciara pulled into the parking lot, the chaotic colors of the mall surrounded you. She parked the car, casting a glance your way. “Alright, no talk of Spencer with the little dick while we're here alright?”

You nodded slowly, but your mind was still a storm of thoughts and emotions that had yet to settle. The sounds of laughter and footsteps filled the air as you stepped out of the car, but even amidst the noise, you felt like you were still floating, caught between what was real and what was just a distraction.

“There's no reason to lie to make me feel better,”, she laughed.

as you and Ciara stepped into the mall, the vibrant atmosphere enveloped you like a cocoon, yet the comfort it should have provided seemed out of reach. the air hummed with energy: laughter echoed against polished floors, the shuffling of bags blended into an excited chorus, and the enticing aromas of popcorn, pretzels, and fried food wafted through the space, each scent calling to a desire for comfort that you just couldn’t find.

you glanced around, taking in the kaleidoscope of people—the families with cheerful children, groups of friends chatting animatedly as they moved, and couples entwined in conversation. Yet, as the cheerful masses moved past, a heavy discontent settled within your chest, a constant nagging feeling that wouldn’t let up. Your thoughts were tangled, fighting the urge to not talk about spencer.

the urges whooped your ass.

“Ugh, I can’t believe how dramatic Spencer has been lately,” you began, shaking your head as you ambled towards the escalator up to victoria's secret each step feeling heavier than the last. You reached for a sleek top on a nearby rack, your fingers brushing the fabric as you stated, “He didn't even tell me what his problem was this time, Ciara. He's like a fucking kid,”

Ciara nodded, her attention shifting between you and the vibrant clothes on display. “He's exactly like Manny. You know if you were a lesbian, I'm pretty sure you would've been with her by now.”

"Har-har." you let out a fake laugh, pulling the top closer to you and inspecting it in the harsh fluorescent lights. “and its not like I don't fuck with him. Of course I do, but its only okay when I do it! and i never do it first.”

She stared at you.

“Okay, I mostly never do it first.”

you stepped into the fitting rooms, pulling aside the curtain with a little more force than necessary. Ciara leaned against the wall outside, concern evident in her eyes. “Well, it sounds like he’s really going through something. I mean the last time he had a girlfriend was years ago, plus she did get shot in front of him. Maybe, just maybe... he needs time to adjust to having you.”

“It's been 6 months, how much time does he need.” you admitted, slipping into a pair of jeans. “I’m trying to support him, but at the same time, it feels like whenever I need support I'm the 'crazy' one.”

you spun in front of the mirror, checking the fit, and briefly appreciated the outfit, but the satisfaction was fleeting. You couldn’t shake the gnawing frustration and worry that lingered in your mind. After trying on a few more items, you settled on a cozy sweater that draped nicely over your shoulders and a pair of jeans that tugged your ass and thighs perfectly.

Stepping out of the fitting room, you caught sight of Ciara’s bright smile—a thumbs-up that fueled a flicker of confidence despite the dark cloud of your thoughts. “You look great! Food?” she chirped, her enthusiasm piercing through your fog. “I look like I got fat, but, yes.” you giggled.

“Yeah, only in the right places.” she replied, leaving a quick smack on your ass. the idea of food felt foreign to you, your appetite making you uneasy. and the more you thought about it, you weren't really prone to gaining weight. in the last eight weeks, you've gained almost seven pounds. even as you walked toward the food court, the excited chatter and laughter felt like a cruel reminder of the happiness you were struggling to hold onto with Spencer.

as you navigated through the chaos of the food court, the aromas wrapped around you, each scent competing for your attention. You scanned the options—pizza, burgers, Asian stir-fry, sizzling hot dogs—but as much as your stomach wanted to respond, it remained cold and distant.

Ciara and you eventually settled on a plate of asian food. You found a table, and despite the enticing food in front of you, the heaviness in your chest pulled you down, dimming your appetite further.

while Ciara was talking about her sex life, your own thoughts lingered on Spencer: his hands, the way his mind worked like a finely tuned machine, how he would

“when I tell you she had me bent in ways I can't say out loud because I would be put on some kind of list--” Ciara’s words finally broke through the fog in your mind, and you looked at her, your voice barely above a whisper, “I feel… weird.”

Ciara’s smile faded, concern etching itself across her face. “What do you mean weird? ”

The discomfort swelled inside you as the weight of your stomach pressed down further. “I don’t know. It’s just everything… ugh. I really don’t feel good.” The admission felt heavy on your tongue, yet fear flooded through you, mingling with confusion and anxiety.

“Hey, [y/n] uh--” Ciara said, her voice laced with concern as she leaned closer, trying to draw you back into the moment. “Breathe, okay? Just uh--”

her voice did no help, the world around you began to tilt, the bright lights and laughing voices tuned out as your vision began to blur. A rising wave of dizziness crashed over you, swallowing every sense until you felt on the verge of vanishing into the void of darkness.

before you could utter another word, the world slipped away in an instant—darkness encased you, quieting the chaos of the food court and pressing down into a silence that felt weighty yet freeing. You couldn’t tell if you were floating or falling, but nothing remained except an overwhelming absence -- and then your body hit the floor.

“[y/n]? [Y/N]! Someone help, please!” Ciara begged and yelled out as she breathed on your face, checking your pulse. you were breathing, that's all that mattered. being in school for nursing, really wasn't doing her any justice at the moment.

three-hundred-thirty-eight minutes. that's how long it took for you to wake up.

you gradually regained consciousness to the muted buzz of light and occasional distant sounds filtering through the haze of your mind. blinking several times, you squinted against the warm, yellow light spilling through the curtains in the hospital room. the glow felt too harsh against your eyelids, and as you turned your head slightly, a wave of dizziness swept over you.

a sharp ache spiked through your temples, and you instinctively raised a hand to your forehead, feeling the softness of the pillows beneath you. your body felt heavy, soreness settling deep in your muscles—each small movement sent prickles of discomfort shooting through your limbs. you groaned softly, the sound a mere whisper in the stillness of the room.

The room itself was a comforting chaos, the machines beeping, the flowy blue curtains. But it was the smell that truly caught your attention: a mix of treacle sweetness from ciara's half-eaten candy bar on the nightstand, which you grabbed over and took a chunk out of. the clean scent of freshly laundered sheets, and just a hint of the medication. it was oddly grounding, and for a moment, it eased the nausea rising in your stomach like a tidal wave.

taking a deep breath, you lay still, attempting to collect your thoughts. fragments of memory flickered through your mind—little moments of laughter and joy interspersed with the anxiety that had been consuming you before everything went dark. You remembered the bustling vibe of the mall, the annoying feeling of your heart racing, and a sudden wave of dizziness that had pulled you down. panic surged through you as you recalled Ciara’s frantic voice, calling for help when you collapsed.

“there's, no way I actually fainted.” you murmured to yourself, the thought sending a shiver down your spine. “ew, that's so corny.” you felt a flush of heat creep up your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and concern. you turned to ciara, whose face was unchanged the entire time. her face stayed the same -- she looked horrified. concern. something was wrong with you, and you had a really bad feeling about what. it wasn't stress, it wasn't spencer. it was something else.

thirty-eight minutes. thats how long it took for you to find out.

ciara stayed by your side, her face didn't dare to flinch. a nurse stepped quietly into the room, her hesitant movements breaking the fragile quiet that enveloped the space. the atmosphere felt charged, and you could sense the shift immediately, your heart beginning to pound. the light from the window framed ciara, washing over her in a way that felt almost ethereal. as her expression morphed from concern into something more serious, an unsettling tension settled between you, pinning you both in a moment that seemed to stretch on.

when the nurse began to deliver the news her words flowed without sound, each gesture amplifying the weight of what she had to say. you felt your breath hitch as a wave of uncertainty crashed over you, the reality of her news unsettling sinking in like a stone. the room, once familiar and comforting, suddenly felt small and suffocating, the walls closing in as vivid memories backtracked through your mind—laughter, plans, and dreams that now teetered on the brink of change. the warmth of the space became oppressive as your heart raced, fear mingling with disbelief.

in an instant, the safety of your world unraveled, and the gravity of ciara's presence anchored you to an unsettling truth. the air was thick with unvoiced questions, your heart heavy with the weight of responsibility and the unknown. as the silence roared in your ears, every breath turned bittersweet, a reminder of how everything that had once seemed so certain was now tinged with complexity. you stood there, caught between the past and an uncertain future, realizing in that moment that everything had changed.

fifteen minutes. that's how long it took to get discharged.

the car glided smoothly along the dark road, the headlights casting fleeting beams of light onto the pavement, illuminating the otherwise shadowy world outside. ciara sat in the drivers seat seat, her silhouette a quiet presence lost in thought, her silence wrapping the cabin in an almost palpable stillness. each soft breath she took seemed to mirror the steady thrum of the engine, but the weight of her unspoken emotions filled the air, creating a tension that was hard to ignore. the familiar contours of the landscape slipped by in an undulating blur, trees lining the road like silent sentinels.

as the miles rolled on, your mind began to wander, seeking distraction in the rhythmic pattern of passing objects. you started to count the trees, the sturdy trunks becoming a makeshift anchor in the sea of swirling thoughts. one after another, the arboreal figures flickered past, offering a sense of solace as if each counted tree marked a moment of time that moved further away from the hospital. the darkened silhouettes blurred together, yet you found a strange comfort in the repetitive task, allowing your focus to drift into the rhythm of your surroundings.

six hours, thirty-one minutes. and not a single call from spencer.

as the car glided to a stop in the driveway, the familiar surroundings of your home greeted you with an unsettling mix of comfort and anxiety. the sky was turning shades of purple and orange, a vivid sunset framing the moment. ciara turned off the engine and sat in silence for a moment, her eyes fixed on the front door, as if gauging its significance. you both understood that what waited beyond that threshold was life-changing.

you unbuckled your seatbelt and took a deep breath, your mind swirling with thoughts you had been trying to organize all day. today had felt unending, a series of moments stacked upon one another, each one urging you toward this very conclusion. the weight of what you needed to reveal pressed heavily on your chest, and you were acutely aware of the time you had spent wrestling with your emotions.

ciara glanced at you, her expression a blend of concern and encouragement. you could tell she wanted to say something, perhaps offer reassurance, but instead, she simply gave your hand a gentle squeeze. the gesture felt grounding, a reminder that while you were stepping into the unknown, you were not entirely alone.

with a nod, you exited the car, the cool evening air wrapping around you like a cloak. you took a moment on the doorstep, hesitating as you glanced back at ciara, who offered you a reassuring smile before she drove away. the sound of the engine faded, leaving you with the echo of your own heartbeat.

spencer sat there, something heavy on his mind. his shirt was off, and he was stood in sweatpants and the line of his boxers showing. his hair was damp and flew down to his shoulders, his arms clinging onto the back of his neck and he eyed you up and down. you stared up at him with heavy, red eyes. you set down your purse and stared off into the distance.

he stared at you in silence. it was pissing you off. he was acting like a fucking child, and now really wasn't the time. your heart raced as your thoughts spiraled, the weight of everything you had been holding inside bubbling just beneath the surface. You could feel the frustration rising as you realized you were no longer willing to play your eyes met, and in that shared moment of understanding, something unspoken ignited.

“I can’t do this anymore,”

“I'm pregnant.” You blurted simultaneously.

The air shifted, charged with the gravity of your revelation and his confession, and the silence that had ruled the room felt like it was finally ready to crack open, revealing the unvoiced truths waiting just beneath the surface. your eyes widened and jaw feel open, as you grasped what just came out of his mouth. tears welled up at your eyes, and his met with yours with the same expression, and at the same time you both uttered;

“What?”

reblog or comment for part 2 <3

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hoshigray · 1 year

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A Pricked Hand to Hold

Just thinking about h*lding h*nds with Miguel for the first time bc I'm still fucking soft for this man (like it's so bad).

An: Yup, it's been three weeks, and my infatuation for this man has yet to falter (or that movie in general bc I've seen it like 5-6 times already, and can't get tired of it). This was meant to be a little smthn, but I just wanted to get my soft aggression out of the way. Also, tysm for 1k followers again!! Like fr, y'all are too sweet :') Sacrificed sleep to get this done, sooooo hope you guys like it!! If there are spelling/grammar errors, my dumbass will take care of it tmrw bc I need to take a fckin nap right tf now ahhhhhh— Also! Gonna make an ATSV masterlist later today, so I'll be sure to link it when it's done!!

Cw: Miguel x reader - fluff - h*nd h*lding (barf) - the reader is implied to be in college (at least age 20) - you and Miguel aren't together [yet] but the pining is strong in this one! - Lyla and Jessica teasing you lovestruck idiots lol - you accidentally prick yourself with your lead pencil, but no blood or injuries - ayo you and Miguel almost kiss tho??

Wc: 2.1k

As usual, it was a busy day at headquarters. Many anomalies have been captured for Margo to send back home, Spiders helping other Spiders fight off evil-doers and placing them back in their universes, and Pavitr having a scare nearly revealing his identity to his girlfriend, Gayatri.

Then there's you, sitting at a table doing your homework that needs to be finished for the lecture tomorrow. But you're not alone. In front of the table are three others discussing matters of their own. Lyla is giving new information about another anomaly that needs to be captured before going home, and Jessica's leaning on her motorbike listening to her pixel friend. Right next to her is another taller person listening along as well.

Miguel O'Hara — leader of the Spider Society and the man you've been pining for a while now.

You've been working here for a few months, taking in Margo's shifts or helping Lyla relay messages to other Spiders across the multiverse. At first, you've tried to keep it simple and only see it as a job. But the more you work here, the closer you get to others...and your boss, Miguel, is no exception.

Things started short and blunt with him between you two — just simple greetings and exchanges of the necessary information. But then there was a time when the man was in HQ for far too long, probably sacrificing too much sleep and time to eat that day. So, you got him something from the cafeteria and a little note telling him to "Take care of yourself, leader!" before going home.

From that day on, you and Miguel got closer slowly but surely. Not only does he appreciate you reminding him to take breaks or grab something to eat, but he also checks up on you whenever it's your shift, talks to you on his breaks, or eats dinner with you whenever he has a chance (or when he's not stressed out).

And how you talk to each other is much more comfortable and personal. Sure, you're still respectful of his position and are aware of his duties, but it's always a guilty pleasure when he spends his little free time with you. Unfortunately, you've developed feelings for the tall and brawny Spiderman due to this.

You know how complicated it is to have feelings for someone, especially within the work field, so this is something that you have no faith in whatsoever. But for some reason, you can't help but think something between the two of you is starting to bloom...and based on his actions, maybe Miguel feels the same way as well? Lyla and Jessica tease you, saying it's plain to see that even Pav fangirls about you two.

".../n."

However, for a man like him, is such a thing possible?

"Y/n."

Your thoughts vanish as you turn to the person calling for your attention, just to find it's from Miguel. The two women are nowhere to be found, probably tending to other matters you didn't catch because of your overthinking.

"Yes!" you stutter a reply. Oh God, I hope I didn't make him call on me so many times...

"Done with your homework?" He asks while coming to your side of the table.

You give him a nod, fidgeting with your mechanical pencil. "Yeah, I took care of the stuff for my classes tomorrow. Now I just got a paper to finish by Friday...What about you? Gonna head out soon?"

"I would, but I gotta stay here in case Jess needs backup for the mission. She just left to fix up her bike before she goes."

A chuckle sneaks past you, and Miguel swoons at the sound of it. "Are you sure you wanna do that? Didn't Lyla keep bothering you the last time?"

You can tell he reminisces the time you recall; his sigh and a shake from the lead confirm so. "Yeah, well, when is she not bothering me."

"Heard that." The woman appears in front of him quickly before disappearing again, leaving Miguel a little puzzled before a slight scowl paints his face. Yet it's not so bad when he sees you laugh at the interaction.

"I swear," your giggles wear down, but your smile remains. "It's like you two are siblings or something. But that just means the pestering comes from a place of love."

He hums at your words. "Yeah, love..."

For the past few months, you've been a reoccurring theme in Miguel's life that he thought he'd never experience again. From the day he met you, he figured keeping his distance and maintaining an appropriate work relationship would benefit him. But he was a fool to challenge your beauty and welcoming aura whenever you entered the scene. Especially your kind gestures, starting with the food and your little note for him.

It was apparent then that avoidance would do more harm to himself than good, so he spent his days getting to know you more, understanding you more, appreciating you more...and worse, loving you more.

An emotion such as love has been something that's only brought up painful memories and anguish. And for that reason, Miguel has chosen to dedicate his life and being to doing something he's good at — his job protecting the multiverse. Because, in his eyes, it's the only thing he seems capable of. Not love.

...However, whenever you look at him, speak to him, or smile at him, Miguel can't fight the twinge of his heart longing for something — longing for you. And he knows he isn't the only one who thinks so since Lyla constantly ridicules him about his "schoolboy crush," just like a sibling.

Nonetheless, he still doesn't go far from the talks you share with him or the times you eat together in a friendly manner. Because that's what he and you are comfortable with, and he wouldn't want to break it. Yet he can't help but wonder what would happen if he was just a little more selfish.

Be more selfish and pursue you...without losing you.

"OUCH!!"

Without hurting you.

Miguel's thoughts are immediately halted when he hears your hurtful cry. You drop your pencil and grab your finger as you wince through the pain. And he wastes no time coming to your proximity to examine what happened. "What!? Something wrong?"

"Ahhhh, yeah, I'm fine," You reassure him with an attempted smile. "I just accidentally pricked myself with my pencil."

"Let me see."

The words take a long to register before the man takes your hand in his, the back of your hand resting on his palm while he surveys your fingers. He then sees a tiny circle indent on your middle finger. "I don't see any pieces of lead."

"Oh, thank goodness," you exhale in relief. "Because I don't think I'd survive tomorrow if I did. I got three lectures that day!"

Miguel chortles at your comment, and it has the beat of your heart quicken. "So sorry for you."

Your smile is still prominent. "Thank you, Miguel."

"Don't mention it."

Silence follows those words, yet they're substituted with gazes between you and the man. The twinge on your lips slowly dissolves the more you lose yourself in his burnt amber eyes. The same goes for Miguel, who still has your hand in his.

The internal turmoil in his mind doesn't ease at that fact, incapable of deciphering whether to let go. And when your hand slowly reciprocates the hold — turning it for both palms to face each other — his breath hitches.

"Miguel..." his name appeared in a whisper, only for him to hear. Your breathing goes shaky when he replies with his fingers intertwined with yours. And you notice him take a tense gulp, easing your nerves to know that he's also nervous.

He knows he shouldn't be this close to you as it could jeopardize the relationship you have spent all these months building and maintaining together. However, this is the first time he's been so close to you, touching you. And his heart pushes him to want more.

He knows he shouldn't...but curiosity is an intriguing dance. That's why he slowly leans forward to you.

And you go rigid by the notion...yet your eyes are drawn to his lips, and you follow suit by going inward. Eyes close, letting the moment take place for itself.

"Ready, Miguel?"

Nevermind.

Both eyes open immediately, and locked hands are withdrawn from each other. Miguel puts on his mask quickly, but you could still see a slight flush of pink on his cheeks and ears before they were covered up. You straighten yourself and look to the other side of the table to see Jessica on her motorbike entering the scene.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

"Oh—" the woman spots you two before Miguel stands straight up, and she doesn't try to hide the smile that creeps on her face. "Oh. Was I interrupting something?"

"No." You two say in unison. Jess only lifts a brow through her yellow goggles. You continue with an explanation while you pack up your stuff. "I accidentally pricked my finger with my mechanical pencil, so Miguel checked it out to see if I had any lead on it."

"Ooh, yeah, those aren't fun. Basically like a splinter." Before Jessica could say more, Lyla appeared in everyone's line of sight.

"Good, you two are still here." She jumps around between Jessica and Miguel. "The anomaly we discussed earlier has jumped to another dimension as predicted; better get them now so we can go home."

The two nod while you get up from the table with your backpack. "Good luck out there, guys." You address the older three before exiting for the night, and they all say their goodbyes to you.

For a few seconds, your eyes linger on Miguel. Despite the mask covering his face, his gaze was intense and palpable. Without saying a word, you let your eyes say your final words before turning to leave.

Miguel still watches you leave until he's unable to spot you through the dark hall. And unfortunately for him, he can feel two pairs of eyes on him. He mentally prepares himself before looking at the two women who harbor shameless grins. "What's with the faces?"

Lyla and Jessica only share a look amongst themselves and shrug before answering him. "Oh, I don't know, Miguel." The pixelated woman darts close to the man. "What's with your face?"

"Wh-What are you—"

"C'mon now, Miguel." Jessica cuts him off. "Seems like something more was going on than just a pricked finger."

He sighs. "Well, you're wrong. Because that's all it was." The two share another look with each other as their smirks go higher.

"Oh~, my darling Miguel," Jessica changes her voice to a higher pitch and daydream tone. "I wish you luck on your mission and that you return to see me tomorrow~."

"Don't you worry, my wonderful Y/n," Despite Miguel's eyes narrowing at Lyla's terrible impression of his voice, she still acted out the role. "I will return to you unscathed and have you in my loving arms in no time~."

"I don't talk like that." The two women chuckle at his blunt statement. "How old do you think I am?"

"Old enough to look like a man but still scared to talk to your lil' crush." Jessica crosses her arms with a matter-of-fact attitude, her smile itching broader when Miguel rolls his eyes through the mask.

"Ay, por Dios, can we please open the portal already?" The poor man can only take so much teasing from the two, making him feel like he should've left with you instead.

Lyla giggles one last time before Jessica uses her watch to open a portal to the desired dimension. "Whatever you say, lover boy." The portal opens, and a flash of colors and shapes contrasts with the dull room. Jessica is the first to go, Miguel following right behind her.

Even when going on his mission, his mind can't stop thinking about you and the moment you shared together earlier. It was a risky thing to have happened, and he scolds himself for letting such a thing happen. Miguel knows he isn't a person for love, for it's something meant to be destroyed by his very touch. You are no exception; the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. He loves you too much to put you through that.

But then the compliance and willingness you've expressed in holding his hand surely meant that you wanted something more, right?

If Miguel were selfish enough, he'd use that as a hint. A hint to look forward to what other things you'd allow him to express to you.

If he were selfish enough, he would plan to approach you tomorrow in the right way.

If he were selfish enough, he'd test out the waters more and finally let this "love" flourish into something better.

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