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#about how many have lost lovers and children
nightgoodomens · 2 days
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Well, not to bring down the mood but prev anon made me look up Michael Redgrave and these ramshackles are not exactly hot news in showbiz but I strongly encourage you to read his personal life part. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Redgrave
This particular segment had my jaw on the floor.
During the filming of Fritz Lang's Secret Beyond the Door (1948), Redgrave met Bob Michell, and they soon became lovers. Michell set up house close to the Redgraves, and he became a surrogate "uncle" to Redgrave's children (then aged 11, 9 and 5), who adored him. Michell later had children of his own, including a son he named Michael.
Falling for eachother on set, Neighbours, GT calling MS "Uncle Michael" under a pic of him playing with one of DT's kids ...
Fuck, I really, really want them to keep fighting and crossing my fingers for them to win it completely( they showed us what they're capable of) I hate to see history repeat itself and for their story to turn into another tragic Wikipedia article.
It’s tragic how many of these stories repeated themselves over the years and how it’s still going on. And people ask why - well, just look at this fandom! This fandom which supposed to be the open minded fandom shoves these two in a closet like nobody else.
MS/DT Lost control and we had triumphant ladies at the Oliviers… but the men made a point with their disappearance and then re appeared together and everything was about them once again. We had nothing from GT/AL about the ladies, just about the men. Men have it in their grasp again, I don’t think they will let go.
Really curious what will happen next!
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desultory-suggestions · 2 months
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On this Valentine’s Day please don’t forget about the Palestinian people. Candy is being bought in droves while innocent people are starving. While people are planning romantic dinners for their lovers, Palestinian people are losing their lovers to bombs and snipers. There is no rest for the Palestinian people today. Don’t let them mask what’s really happening behind pink ribbon. Fight for love, find empowerment in your love for others. We will not stop fighting, not for a single day. Palestine will be free.
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tteokdoroki · 2 months
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Hi aali!, Happy Valentine's Day~ I saw your bumble date, swipe right event and would like to participate :D I put forward gojo satoru as my fav, red bottomed heels as my ideal valentine's gift and for my date to be sweet. Please and thank you in advance /^w^/
⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. swipe sweet: red bottom heels.
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about. it’s a match! whilst dolling yourself up to spend valentines day with your husband — satoru gojo reminds you of how much he loves you with a very expensive and reminiscent gift ( 1K ).
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, reader and gojo are married + have kids, reader is wearing a dress, afab!reader.
・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !
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“are the kids in bed?” you ask your husband satoru as you scrutinise the line of red on your lips in the mirror. his large palms smooth over the curves of your frame, hugged by your pretty and powder blue dress, before stopping just above your navel. 
the gesture is sweet, with no ulterior motives, you’ve learned over the years that your husband values proximity and closeness. he likes to hold you close like you might disappear and touch you as though to make sure that you’re real. tonight, he gets lost in the way you feel underneath his explorative fingertips, entranced by how beautiful you look tonight (or any other night). 
cooing, you capture his attention — brilliant colbalt eyes finding yours in the mirror.  “satoru,” 
“you look good in this dress, baby. is it new?” he quips, head of silvering hair coming to rest at the junction between your neck and shoulder as you finish perfecting your lip. “sorry, yes honey. the rugrats are sleepin’.” 
you squirm happily in your man’s hold, relishing the way that he loves up on you with kisses to your neck and his warm hands rubbing up had dabi’s your sides. “what about the sitters? did you pay them?”
“you mean fushiguro? we practically raised him, a bit of free labour never hurt anybody —“ when you cough unhappily, glaring at your long-time lover and father of your children in the mirror, satoru pouts into the kisses he’s fitted along your bare shoulder. “— fine, i’ll leave him a tip.” 
the man is rewarded with one of your dazzling smiles, the type that has his heart bursting through his chest and his brain a mess. no matter how many dates you go on, how many times you celebrate valentine’s day together…satoru gojo finds himself falling in love with you all over again. each and every time. 
“satoru baby, did you—?” 
“yes, sweetie, i called the uber. it’ll be here in five. yes, i called the restaurant and had them push back by thirty and yes, you look beautiful. you always do. you’re just as beautiful as the day i met you,” years of marriage has taught satoru gojo to be prepared for anything. your fluttering mind, your worry for your children, the fact that you always take a little too long to get ready for the simplest of outings. these little habits and ticks of yours are things that he cherishes, things he wouldn’t change for the world. satoru has grown a lot since he first met you, and has grown in all the right ways to make sure that you’re loved. 
spinning you in his bulking arms, satoru backs you up against your bathroom sink — caging you against it with his arms either side of your hips while he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “now, i know we like to be fashionably late to things, being the hottest couple in the world and all, but i really do think we should get going,” he scolds you playfully, but doesn’t make an effort to draw away from you. “i can’t push this table back anymore,” 
you smile, blowing a kiss up at him so that you don’t smudge your lipstick. “don’t let megumi hear you say that, you know that he thinks we’re cringe.” 
“he can think what he wants, nothing will stop me from showing off the most beautiful woman in the world,” when the white haired man finally steps back, your fingers remain linked — wedding bands clinking against one another. “let me get your shoes, gorgeous, the car’ll be here soon.”
as your husband retreats ( leaving you a love stricken mess in the bathroom ), you resort to packing a clutch with the essentials for tonight — debating on which lip gloss to bring with you until he comes back. 
“remember these?” satoru questions you softly once he re-enters the bathroom — sinking to his knees despite the tight fitting black tux that he wears. your eyes drift over his handsomely aged face, firm and muscled form, down to the pair of heels he holds in his grasp. their white leather and red bottom sole are all too familiar to you. a pair of christian louboutin heels fresh from the box. 
setting the pair of shoes down, satoru gently takes one of your ankles in his hold and positions it perfectly to slip your foot into the heel. “you wore them to our wedding, way back when. i remember that you spent hours deliberating between the kate model and the hot chick model. even still, i always loved how they looked on you,” he reminisces, lips ghosting over your thigh and thumbs smoothing up your calves once your foot is secured in its shoe.  “how they make your legs look.” 
he wiggles his eyebrows up at you then, making you snort under the dim lighting in your bathroom like two teenagers struggling to get out of their clothes after a night out. “satoru!” you squeal, pushing at his shoulder with your bare foot. “focus, we’ve got to leave soon,” your husband nods, working your other heel on while you reminisce. “i thought i lost the original pair in one of the boxes when we moved to the bigger house for the baby.” 
blue eyes shoot up to meet yours, holding so much love and adoration for you. “not too tight, right?” gojo whispers, rubbing at the back of your foot to make sure the leather material isn’t hurting you. you shake your head, earning yourself a kiss to the knee. “you did. lose them. i remember how upset you were, so i figured i’d get you a replacement pair. they might be a little different but—“ 
“but they’re perfect, thank you baby,” even after all this time, satoru remains the most thoughtful partner you’ve ever had. you swear to yourself that you’ll cherish him always, look after him always. even after life and even in death. “i love them.”
“i love you.” gojo says tenderly, taking a stand and offering you his hand all in one swift movement. “now cinderella, i do believe our carriage awaits. our Uber driver has just set a timer and i’ll be damned if he drives away with my damn money.” 
with that, you let your husband whisk you away for a romantic dinner — expensive and cherished red bottom heels clicking against the pavement while the wind carries your joint laughter as you run like fools for your uber (much to megumi’s dismay). 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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thepixelelf · 4 months
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ah! love - 3
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genres: married life au, family au, fluff, a little... angst? but we know it ends up okay (best friends to lovers) relationship: husbands 95 line x reader (feat. baby doremi line) words: 2.0k warnings: none notes: joshua centric!! also they live somewhere where it gets cold sometimes. I know that Joshua's had a little less time in the a!l spotlight, so I hope this satisfies the shushus[?] out there! this is the first >1k bday fic I've written in a while idk what came over me lol
ah! love masterlist
Joshua saves the day...wait, the night?
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Joshua loves his kids. More than anything, though that thought sometimes scares him if he thinks too hard about it. The point is, he loves his sticky little mischievous imps, no matter how many times they throw up in the middle of the night, or run around with food half-chewed in their mouths because they've yet to develop a fear of choking like he and the rest of his partners have, or the half a million other things they don't warn you about parenthood. He loves his sons, end of sentence. Period.
But that's not to say they were his idea. Like a lot of the current life he feels overwhelmingly lucky to live, none of this was his idea. He hadn't even dreamed of it -- even his sleeping consciousness couldn't have been so creative as to spin the love story that led to his present. He hadn't fathomed marrying you and his other two best friends.
The marriage was Seungcheol's idea. But apparently you and Jeonghan were already thinking about it, too.
Joshua had been entirely caught off guard.
He was thinking too rigidly, he realized. Their marriage isn't legally recognized in any sense, and it was for that reason that he'd never even considered it in the first place... but it's still his marriage, whether penned and signed or not. There are three rings on his finger to prove it.
The kids were Jeonghan's idea. Well. The kid was sort of his, Seungcheol's and your idea. Jeonghan had said he'd always dreamed of having two kids -- a boy and a girl, like him and his little sister. You'd had your own fears about children, as did Seungcheol. You were scared you wouldn't know how to parent, wouldn't be able to raise a child in the way they deserved. Seungcheol worried how a child raised in their unconventional family would be treated by their peers. They'd all chosen the life they would live together, society's judging eyes be damned, but the child wouldn't have a choice, least of all an informed one.
Over the breakfast that was long forgotten after Jeonghan made his casual suggestion and vulnerable confession, you and Seungcheol eventually needled him down to one kid. Maybe.
As for Joshua, he didn't say a word. He was too lost in his own head, imagining a swaddled baby in your arms, and you in his. A shimmering mirage of his lips pressed upon your forehead, before he bent slightly to kiss the baby's tiny hands.
One kid may have been Jeonghan's, Seungcheol's, and your idea, but with Joshua, and circumstances as they were, you came home with three.
So perhaps some of this was his idea.
Not this, though.
"Papa...?"
Joshua blinks himself awake. His room is mostly dark, but warm light filters in from the hallway. The culprit? A little boy with one hand on the doorknob and the other wiping the corner of his bleary eye. Joshua can't tell who it is by looks alone, since the boy is all but a silhouette in the doorway, but he knows from the sound of his voice that it's Vernon.
Slowly, he removes his arm from around your waist. It's unlucky, maybe, that tonight you chose to sleep in Joshua's room, and then Vernon decided this was the place to be, too. He scoots away from you, then tries to lightly step across the room to kneel in front of Vernon. "Hey, bud," he whispers, trying desperately not to wake you up after a long day. "Can't sleep?"
"Bad dream," Vernon mutters.
⭒-⭒-⭒
"Bad dream?" Joshua sat up from the couch he was sleeping on just a minute ago, and he watched you whip around like a kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar.
But you only had a glass of water in your hand, and you winced as you turned off the tap. "Sorry. I was trying not to wake you."
"You didn't." Not really, anyway. The couch wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep on in the first place, which was why he offered you his room to sleep in while you needed a place to stay for the night. Actually, both Jeonghan and Seungcheol had offered their beds too, and it became a bit of a squabble, but you'd settled things by just picking the room offered to you first.
"Liar," you said, and even though the only light in the room came from the moon through the balcony windows, he could hear the smile the word came through. Still, there was a certain tiredness in your voice.
"Seriously. What's wrong?"
A sigh left you.
"Come, sit," he insisted. "Talk to me. You know I'll annoy it out of you eventually."
Another sigh came from you, but this one of reluctant, amused acceptance. You walked across the combined kitchen slash living space in in their three-room apartment, set your water on the coffee table, and sat on the other end of the couch from him. Too far for his liking.
"What's your mood like tonight?" you asked him as you relaxed into the cushions, your head resting so that you stared at the ceiling.
"On what scale?"
"Hm... holiday rom coms?"
He thought hard for a second. "The Princess Switch 2: Switched Again."
You snorted, rubbing your hands over your face. "Not good then?"
"Well, you did have to abandon your apartment because the heat turned off and your dumb landlord is completely MIA." He shifted his body to face you, one arm propped up on the back of the couch to lean his head on. "But you showed up here wearing a comedic amount of layers, so the day had its funny moments."
A laugh bubbled from your throat, and Joshua found himself smiling in the dark. "I guess you're right. How's your mood in terms of..." You let your head flop to the side to look at him. "...a hug?"
He had to wonder sometimes if you had absolutely no idea what he would do for you if you asked. A hug wouldn't be on that list-- it was so easy that it didn't even constitute consideration.
But his heart warmed, because even though he knew he'd never refuse to give you something so simple as a hug, you knew he wasn't constantly the physical affection kind of guy. You wanted to ask him. You wanted his comfort, but only if he was willing.
God, was he willing.
"All yours." He opened up his arms, and you all but sank into him.
You both stayed like that for a while, silent, but warm. He was satisfied with you in his arms, but he could tell your mind was still stewing.
"You gonna tell me what's got you up so late?" he muttered, rubbing his thumbs back and forth on your sides.
"Do you ever think about the future, Joshua?"
Sometimes. But it was always with you in it. "Not really."
Leaning back, he brought you to lie almost on top of him, so now he was the one staring at the ceiling.
You sighed. "I try not to... at least not too much. But sometimes, on nights like these, I'm scared that I..."
He waited for you to continue, but when you didn't, he gently patted your back. "That you what?"
"That I want too much."
Joshua breathed in. Held that air for a few more seconds than necessary. Breathed out. He wondered if it would always be like this-- you being brave enough to speak aloud the fears he kept locked up.
"Don't be scared," he whispered, because what else could he say?
Me too?
No. He couldn't know if you meant it in the same way he felt, and it would be selfish to let his words and feelings out now, while his two other best friends were asleep mere meters away.
You chuckled, as if to dispel any vulnerability you'd revealed. "Easy for you to say."
You had no idea.
"I'll protect you."
"Ah, right. Did you read my mind? We'll have to sleep out here tonight."
Not yet catching up to your joke, Joshua loosened his arms around you and furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"
You lifted your head, a cheeky, bitable smile on your lips. Your voice lowered to a conspiratorial hush. "There's a monster under your bed."
⭒-⭒-⭒
Joshua ends up in the kitchen downstairs, all three boys sitting on the counter since Papa Seungcheol isn't there to discourage it. He tried to help Vernon right back into bed, he swears, but as soon as Seungkwan roused from his sleep and asked Vernon what was wrong, a conspiracy of monsters under each of their beds spiralled out of control. Even Chan got dragged in, heavy sleeper that he is.
Now, Joshua's showing them his ultra-secret monster repellent recipe. He melts an ice cube on a warm pan like a slab of butter, then pours warm water over it. Hiding more ice in his hands, he pretends to pull it from the pantry and adds that to the "mixture" too.
The boys watch, entranced and more than a little tired, as Joshua carefully pours the pan's contents into a measuring cup filled with yet more ice. He then pours that into a spray bottle they use to water the plants and screws the lid on. "There," he says proudly, presenting the bottle in front of the boys like it's a fine wine.
"What's going on down here?" your soft voice comes from the bottom of the stairway.
Joshua winces. "I was hoping I wouldn't wake you."
"It's alright," you say, though he can tell you're still fatigued. You walk over to the kitchen and pet the first boy's head that you reach, Chan's. "What are you all doing up?"
While Vernon makes grabby hands for you to run your fingers through his hair as well, Seungkwan answers. "Papa Shua's making monster-go-away juice."
"Monster-go-away juice?" you echo, then turn to Joshua with feigned shock and a quiet gasp. "Not your secret recipe?"
Joshua smiles. You're always so quick to match his humour. "I know." He throws the boys a look before meeting your eyes with full, teasing seriousness. "But I think they're ready."
Your eyes glimmer with laughter, but you hold yourself back for the sake of the bit. Turning to your sons, you wag your finger. "This is powerful stuff, boys. You have to use it carefully."
Chan's eyes are wide, sparkling with awe as he takes in your every word. Seungkwan and Vernon are equally rapt. Joshua's going to have to explain all this to the more straightforward husbands tomorrow, but tonight? Seeing the adorable looks on his sons faces and the playful tilt of yours is totally worth it.
"But don't worry," he chimes in. "It only works on monsters. It's harmless to humans. See?"
In a flash, he points the bottle at you and pulls the trigger, spraying a thin mist of water-water right in your face. You flinch in surprise, affronted, but only Joshua can tell. You laugh, then look at the boys again. "See? Nothing." You snatch the spray bottle from him. "It doesn't do anything to papa Joshua, either."
Okay, he thinks as you spray him not once, but three times, he deserves that.
"Now, papa Joshua and I are going to take care of any monsters, and then we're all gonna go to sleep, okay?"
The boys nod, and Vernon yawns, then motions for you to pick him up. You send a look Joshua's way, and he sends one right back. He gathers both Seungkwan and Chan in his arms, but before you start the trek up the stairs, he stops you. Each of the sons in his arms get a kiss to the top of their head, and then he leans over and presses one to your temple. Lastly, he bends down and, while Vernon has raised his arm to once again rub his eyes, Joshua kisses his tiny little hand. Just like he imagined over breakfast not so long ago.
No, waking up in the middle of the night to save his sons from imaginary monsters was never his idea. Neither was this life, or this family.
But Joshua wouldn't have to any other way.
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heliads · 1 year
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whilst requests are open I have an idea to put forth after years of us discussing this man. Harry Hook x reader based on 'the way I loved you' by taylor swift. Childhood friends to lovers, to strangers to lovers again mayhaps? idk babes. Love you though, I hope your requests don't get out of hand again so you can stay stress-free!
eva i love you for sending this in, please let me talk about harry hook. he's insane and i cannot get enough of him
masterlist
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You are lying on your bed in a dorm room in Auradon Prep, and if you close your eyes, you can almost convince yourself that you’re somewhere else entirely. Your roommate hung a lantern in the window, and with the glass pane cracked halfway, the light sways back and forth on the ceiling, painting shifting golden silhouettes on the perfectly painted ceiling. If you let the present world fade into the corners of your consciousness, you can pretend there are flaws in the endless pristine magnificence. You could even pretend that you aren’t on the continent at all.
No daughter of a princess should ever be anywhere but in Auradon. That’s the way it should have been, but you ran the second you got the chance and ended up amongst criminals and sons of thieves instead of with other prettily polished girls. Is it a terrible thing to admit that you miss it more than anything?
You shouldn’t, that’s the worst part. You left them willingly. As time passes, though, you’re starting to think that what you thought was one great fight with the so-called lowlifes of this world might have been the greatest time of your life. It’s like fording a raging river; while you’re in the thick of the waves, you think you might drown, but when you’re safe on the dry shore again, all you can think of is the coolness of the water, how the flood had sparkled like a thousand sapphires.
You shut your eyes and then you’re back again, just a kid, happier than you’ve ever been and twice as free. It had been easy to leave, actually, easier than it should have been. In your family, there were enough siblings and cousins and relatives that just one girl could go unnoticed. It’s not that Ariel intentionally tried to blur all of her daughters together in her memory, but it couldn’t be helped. She was one of seven daughters, and you were one of many as well. It wasn’t her fault, no, but it was your excuse anyway.
It turns out that nobody bats their eyes at a mermaid’s daughter when she’s running headlong towards the surf. You dove into the waves and came up to shore miles away. Your mother was terrified of losing any one of her children to the endless sea just as her father lost her to land, so none of you were allowed to stray that close to the beach. Of course you would see how far you could go the second you were unsupervised. Of course you would push the limits just to learn where you would break.
You ended up scaring the daylights out of a boy in a small sailing craft not far from the limits of the Isle of the Lost. You hadn’t meant to go that far, but you were giddy with the feeling of doing something wrong and he was trying to escape as well. He’d offered for you to hitch a ride with him so long as the wind was good. You thought that suited you well enough, so you took the hand he gave you and listened when he introduced himself as Harry Hook.
He said his name the same way you did, emphasis on the first name and not the last. It’s the exact opposite way any child of a prince or princess does, and you think that might have been why you liked him from the start. The sun shone overhead, and you talked to him about running away and taking to the sea and all the things you wanted to do if you just had time.
Neither of you wanted to leave, not really, but of course all good things have to come to an end at some point. You watched the sun sink lower and lower in the sky with all the dread of a doomed man going to the gallows. You must have looked seriously unhappy, because you remember Harry laughing and saying that you could meet him tomorrow, if you wanted. You wanted that more than anything, as it turned out, so you eagerly agreed.
Harry took you as far as he could towards Auradon again, and watched as you dove into the water. You can still remember how he’d watched you go, the way his eyes had tracked the water as if he could look at you forever, even after you disappeared from view. He stayed there for a long time before finally forcing his ship to turn around again. You’d know; you stayed there on the ocean floor watching him back until he was gone.
The next day, you slipped away to meet him again, and the next day, and the next. When you were caught trying to go out to the sea sometime in the second month, you fought until you could find a suitable excuse. Your mother was perfectly fine to let you go to some private school by the coast, it would mean one less child to keep track of. The papers were signed and agreements made before you could so much as blink.
You, of course, never went to that school. Instead, you showed up on Harry’s ship just like usual and told him that you wouldn’t be going back. Harry had been talking about a friend of his, Uma, and how she was forming a crew of her own larger pirate ship. You wanted in, and he couldn’t be more delighted to take you home.
You think you replayed the memory of him introducing you to Uma about a thousand times over in your head, and you’ll do it again tonight. The slats of the dock had been slippery under your feet, but you knew that so long as he was by your side, you would never once fall. Uma had looked at you questioningly, blue-green hair cascading down her shoulders, but Harry had hardly been able to tear his eyes away from you.
“This is Y/N,” he’d said, “she’s my friend.” He’d imbued the word with all the hope and grief and joy you could ever possibly attach to such an idea. Harry smiled as he said it, took your hand, let his eyes open comically wide so you’d know he was just joking when he mentioned that he’d jump overboard if Uma didn’t take you on.
Luckily for him, Uma had no problems with you. She saw something in you, the same sort of restless troublemaking spirit the rest of them had in spades. Before you knew it, you were quite literally learning the ropes of how to help out on Uma’s ship.
From there on out, everything was perfect. You watched the sun rise and set from the deck of a ship you could call home. When the weather was good, you spent all night and day out in the grasp of the world, and when the storms raged on, you hid belowdecks with the best friends you’d ever had. They wanted you, not your mother in a younger form, but you. Just you. It was wonderful.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you would end up falling in love with Harry. You were hurtling towards that fate as fast as you could, running and sprinting towards the inevitability of it all. No one compared. No one had half as much influence over you as him. And, when he finally managed to tell you how he felt, you thought you might be able to take over the entire world with the sheer force thrumming through your veins.
Perhaps you should have taken that as a warning. The universe doesn’t care much for happy endings, you’ve learned, even for its fairytale heroes. Princesses grow old and fade into obscurity. Princes forget how to save the day. Villains live out their days with fantastic dreams that will never be achieved. You learn how to deal with adequacy, and pretend that it is enough for you.
You loved Harry because he was wild, your untamed, brilliant boy, but then you hated him for it, too. Just once, you wanted to walk into a room and know what he was going to say before he said it. Every word from his mouth was a dagger in your chest. Some days, he was a hopeless romantic, others, he was mad and uncontrollable. He never hurt you, but at least the pain of a blow would be something you could depend on and understand.
Your mother tried to find you about a year or two after you took to the sea, and you used that as your excuse to break up with him. Harry found out you would be returning to Auradon at the exact same time as the rest of the crew. You think he might hate you for it still. You think he would have reason to hate you for a lot, actually, most importantly that you were never quite enough to match him.
So you slipped away from the ship with the worst kind of goodbye, one that you did not mean, and you never looked back. You greeted your mother and agreed when she said that it was time you took up your studies at Auradon Prep. You joined the endless number of would-be princesses and princes and pretended that it was all you had ever needed in life. If you woke up sometimes with the sound of waves crashing in your ears, or felt the steady rock of a ship beneath your feet as you dreamt, you ignored it. Such illusions only belong to the past, and they will never be yours again.
You still have a jacket of his in the corner of your room; you brought it all the way over here, anywhere you go. You never had the heart to give it back. You don’t know that you could if you tried. It still smells like saltwater and laughter and sun-bleached him, and you have absolutely no idea what you will do when that familiar scent fades.
Still, you weren’t able to completely erase his influence on you. Children of villains arrived at Auradon Prep, and instead of running away from them, you befriended them as quickly as you could. Mal thinks like you do, her and the rest. You laugh like them– not quite as polite as you should be, but loud and beautiful and real. You hang out with them all the time and, when they talk about how much they wish they were back on the Isle of the Lost, you lie to yourself that you do not agree.
You never told them the full scope of your exploits, but they know part of it, enough that one day Mal knocks at your door and tells you that she needs your help on a pirate ship. She needs to get something from the Isle of the Lost, a mysterious ingredient for a spell, but they have to keep it a secret so they can’t use the bridge. The next best option, then, is to sail. It’s not a far destination, so it would work.
A thousand memories of sun and surf flash through your head, and you find yourself agreeing before Mal can so much as finish trying to convince you to go along with her plan.
Mal blinks in surprise. “Really? You’re sure? I thought you would have mixed feelings about that time in your life.”
You breathe out slowly, trying to calm yourself. “Certain things scare me more than others.” Certain people, that is.
Mal winces as she leads you out of your dorm and back into the hallway. “Actually, we might have a problem with that.”
You frown. “What do you mean?”
Mal casts you a nervous glance. “Before I continue, remember that you already agreed. I’m not letting you leave now.”
You laugh. “I’m starting to get worried. No, Mal, I’m not backing out. Just tell me already.”
Mal holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Never doubted you for a second. It’s just, well, we don’t have a ship at our disposal, obviously, so we’re borrowing one from Uma.”
You shrug. “I have no problem with that. Uma’s great.”
“Yeah,” Mal says, drawing out her syllables in an attempt to buy herself time, “but she insisted on having a skeleton crew present. You know, to make sure we wouldn’t run aground or something like that. That includes her first mate.”
Your head snaps up. “Harry’s going to be there?”
You can feel Mal’s gaze on you, but you refuse to look at her. Instead, you’re scanning the hallway, every door you pass, sure that he’s going to be waiting for you, leaning casually against a wall or peering out of a window or somewhere you could find if you just looked hard enough.
“He is,” Mal confirms, “is that going to be an issue?”
Yes. “No, I’ll be fine.”
You can’t really tell if Mal believes you or not, but then you’re rounding the corner and the rest of the VKs are in front of you, and the conversation must be dropped as Mal explains her plan. You’re going to join the four of them and Uma’s guys in piloting the ship over to the Isle of the Lost, where you’ll search for a talisman hidden somewhere on the island. Once the talisman is secured, you’ll head back. Easy as that.
Mal leads your group to a boathouse on the southern part of the shore. You take up a position in a corner of the room, hidden by the shadows. You suppose that’s why the pirates don’t see you immediately when they come in a matter of minutes later. You suppose you chose that place on purpose so you could get a good look at Harry without him seeing you.
He looks just the same. You don’t know why you thought he would change, that he would have to look different to explain how different you feel, but he’s the same. It makes a soft smile rise to your lips at the same time as the weight of all your memories pierces you through the heart.
Uma’s talking to Mal, doubt lacing her every word. “I hope you have a good idea of how to run a ship, because I don’t think any of your friends have the slightest clue what to do on the sea. That’s my territory, in case you forgot.”
“I know,” Mal says, temper just as strong as always, “that’s why I brought a friend.”
Harry arches a brow. “What friend?”
“That would be me,” you say, and step out of the shadows to face him.
For a moment, you swear that time stands still. Harry’s breath catches in his chest as he looks at you for the first time in months. He has never been one to show off weakness, always laughing off injury or claiming not to feel pain, but in this instant, you can see the shock lancing through his eyes, wracking his frame until he has no choice but to stand there and stare.
Uma breaks the silence, wrapping an arm around your shoulders with a grin. “Y/N, good to see you! I take it back, Mal. Y/N could captain a fleet of ships with her eyes closed.”
It’s easy, after that, to pull yourself together. Uma’s friendship is something familiar, a rock you can stand on. “I appreciate your confidence,” you reply, “good to see you too, by the way.”
“Of course,” Uma says dismissively, then adds somewhat unnecessarily, “Hey, Harry, look who it is!”
Harry swallows hard when Uma addresses him, tries to pretend he’s just like normal. “Yeah, I saw. Hey, Y/N.”
“Hey yourself,” you say quietly.
Evie looks at you nervously, then quickly speaks up. “So, should we get to the ship? We only have so much time before people start looking for us.”
Uma rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you guys are too popular, I get it. Ship’s docked outside.”
Harry takes this as his excuse to bolt out, and you watch him go with wide eyes. Evie heads over to you as soon as everyone’s attention is off you again. “Hey, is everything alright?”
“Perfectly fine,” you whisper back through gritted teeth. Of course it is a lie. You couldn’t be more affected by this.
You avoid Harry the entire duration of the trip over to the Isle of the Lost. It’s difficult, especially when you push off from the shore and the wind is on your face again and everything is just like you remember. You tug a few lines into place, tie them down with the knots he taught you, and race to the bow as soon as you’re free.
You forgot just how wonderful it is to sail. You laugh delightedly as the ship picks up speed, skipping over the waves as the wind snaps the sails almost to bursting. This close to the surface of the water, you can’t hear anything, but you sense something anyway, and that’s how you know to lean back up and look to your side to see Harry standing there, smiling as he takes in the sight of you.
Your laugh dries up in a moment and you feel frozen there, trapped in this moment with him. Someone calls your name a second later and you’re able to spirit away to safety, but you can still feel his gaze burning like a brand into your back every moment until the ship docks at the Isle.
Mal announces that you’ll be splitting up in pairs so you can properly canvas the island for the talisman. Before you can look at her or Evie, Uma suggests that you and Harry work together, and the rest are already partitioned into pairs before you can fight it.
Fine, then. You’re certain he’s put her up to this, but you won’t give him a scene if he wants it. Instead, you march resolutely towards your assigned location, and pretend that you’re just really invested in finding the talisman so you can’t hear him when he tries to talk to you.
Eventually, Harry has enough and puts his hand on your arm, trying to get your attention. You spin back around by reflex, dagger in hand and held to his throat before Harry can get so much of a word out. The Isle has always brought out a different part of you, more of a villain than any princess’ daughter.
Instead of looking afraid, Harry just laughs. Usually, this is the time at which you’d join in, but you narrow your eyes and hold strong.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he says when he’s finally able to get his laughter under control, “I don’t think your friends would like it very much if you killed someone on your little vacation to the island.”
You glare at him. “We’re not friends anymore, sweetheart, or have you forgotten that already?”
“When your knife is to my throat? Couldn’t forget that if I tried. Out of curiosity, why are we enemies again? I seem to remember you liking me very well just a couple of months ago.” Harry says, reaching up to tap your forearm where you still hold your blade.
You pull your dagger away but stand there still, thrumming with the urge to run. “We’re too different. You’re a villain, and I’m a perfect angel, obviously.”
Harry grins. “What, just because you’re the daughter of a princess? You’ve never let that come in between us before. You’re not Ariel, you’re Y/N, and I have always loved that about you.” Something like doubt flickers across his face. “Is that why you left? You thought you had to become more like her?”
You glance away from him, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes. “I left because I had to. We weren’t working out.”
“Why not?” Harry asks, and suddenly he’s the one in control now, he’s the one stepping forward until your back hits the wall and you have nowhere to run, “What was so wrong with us, Y/N?”
Your hands are shaking. Harry takes the knife from you, carefully sliding it back in the holster on your side. His hands linger there a second longer, and when he finally takes them away, you can’t tell if you’re glad of it or deeply unhappy that you can no longer feel him.
“We could never work,” you insist.
“Why not?” He replies, “Show me we could never work. Prove me wrong.”
Harry Hook has always been somewhat of an enigma to you, just as unpredictable as the sea that both of you love, but somehow you know it’s coming when Harry leans forward and kisses you. For a moment, you consider pushing him away, and then you realize that you do not hate this, not him, not in the slightest, not at all.
Surrender is not the worst thing in the world. Sometimes it’s like the release of a sail to the wind, the acceptance that even though you let a person go, they will always come back to you. You surrender the last of your inhibitions and you kiss him back. It is everything you missed, the fighting and the laughing, the good times and the bad all in one. It is all that you love about him and more, what you didn’t realize you held most dear until you were gone.
Harry breathes quietly against your lips and you breathe back, one small circle of in and out and together. He grins, says, was that really so bad? And you laugh and tell him to shut up, so he does, but only by kissing you again. The island can wait, the talisman and the life waiting back for you at school. You have your boy back, and you could not care about anything else.
requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!
disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @/thatfangirl42, @amortensie
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healmydesires · 1 year
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MELT AWAY
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⇢ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; the night you give your love and body to your husband.
⇢ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
⇢ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff + smut (best friends to lovers)
⇢ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔/𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔: loss of virginity, multiple orgasms, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, soft!dom Anthony & sub reader, missionary, doggy style, hair pulling, dirty talk. Anthony has a big dick idk if this should be tagged but... yeah. he also gets off to the fact that the reader is smaller/less tall than him. lots of overstimulation, morning sex. soft/rough sex. praise kink. lots of pet names. daddy kink.
⇢ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 10,4K (yes I’m insane)
⇢ 𝒂/𝒏: can’t believe that I’ve deleted my blog when this post was at 4K notes 😭 but yeah I’m reposting it, so if you recognise it. yes it’s from me! pls show it some love again! 🫶 can also be found on my ao3 here!
⇢ I don’t want minors to interact with any of my mature posts! thank you very much! 18+ only!
You never thought that Anthony would be the one you’d grow closest to, considering he’s a couple of years older than you. You’d think Daphne or Eloise would be your best friend. While you’re close to every Bridgerton, nothing could ever be as strong as your bond with the Viscount. It’s funny, you think, how life can bring you things and people you didn’t know you needed. People like Anthony, who became so important, it makes you question how you’ve spent your life so long without them.
But your feelings for the Viscount blossomed into something more than platonic after only a few months of knowing him.
You both fell in love with each other, fast and hard. Anthony was the first person you’ve ever fallen in love with. Whenever he would look at you or say your name or talk to you, your stomach would erupt with butterflies. You’ve never had any strong feelings for anyone before him and you knew he'd always be the one to be on your mind at all times.
Anthony was there for everything, he’d seen you grow older, he was there when you learned how to dance, or how Benedict taught you everything he knew about art, over the years he saw you become an even more beautiful woman. He was there when you debuted into society, he was there when multiple men tried to court you only for him to be overprotective and tell you they would never be good enough.
You never understood why he’d be so overprotective, but you’d be lying if you said you hated it. You’d always welcome any type of attention or care you received from him.
The Viscount has always loved and cared for you even before he could name the feelings he has for you.
He can speak about every inside joke you both have, tell everyone what your favourite colours are - because yes, you didn’t have just one favourite colour, he knows all your favourite books, knows how much you loved stargazing. He knows your favourite flowers. He knows that you’re very sensitive and have some occasional sensory issues.
He knows how much you love the arts and that you have a soft spot for animals and children. You love creating art yourself. He knows how you love with your whole heart, or hate something like your life depends on it. You like to read books during your free time, getting lost between the pages. Just like his sister Eloise. You love sunsets and sunrises, even if you’re not really a morning person.
Anthony likes to think that he knows everything about you. Except he was pretty oblivious to your feelings you had for him for many years.
Everyone knew about your feelings for each other, for so long, except for yourselves.
Until one evening, when Anthony once again refused you to accept a courtship from a potential suitor. Telling you once again that no one is ever good enough for you. That evening something snapped inside you, with tears in your eyes you asked him if there’s something wrong with you. You truly thought that one day he’d care for you too but to you he seemed like he only saw you as one of his sisters.
Or so you thought.
That evening he confessed how much he cares for you, how you’re always the one that’s on his mind. How you’re the only one he wants but couldn’t seem to admit it to himself and his family for so long. He said that the reason he kept telling you no one would be good enough for you, is because he wants to be the one to marry you. He told you how much he loves you with so much emotion that you were too stunned to speak for a while.
With tears in your eyes you eventually explained to him how much he means to you and how you’ve loved him since the first time you both met. Soon enough he enveloped you and kissed you with so much passion that every time you think about it, chills go down your spine.
Nostalgia cascades through you as you continue thinking about your relationship with Anthony. You’ve lived twenty-five years, and throughout the vast majority of it - the Viscount has been your only constant.
You always knew that Anthony would be the one for you. But being married to your best friend is truly something that you never thought would happen. For so long you thought that it would only stay in your fantasies, yet here you are on your bed on your wedding night, daydreaming about your husband.
Sighing, you pull your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your knees and stare at the lit fireplace in front of you.
A small shy smile plays on your lips as your thoughts continue to drift towards your husband.
You’re all alone in your newly shared bedroom when you finally notice how much you’re sweating and heating up. All that dreaming about Anthony made you nervous and warm. You know he’ll join you in your bedroom soon and knowing this makes you blush harder. It’s your wedding night, the night that would change everything forever.
Why are you so hot all over? It’s so silly, you feel extremely feverish, and your heart can’t find peace and quiet, nor can your trembling limbs.
You’re warm. Tingling, like anticipation but threaded into your nerves, and heat. And you feel your body throbbing, all at once, whenever you think of Anthony.
“God,” you whimper as your thoughts keep wandering towards him and what you would do tonight.
You’re biting your lip nervously as you continue to stare off into the fireplace, until you hear the door creak open, revealing the man of your dreams leaning against the doorway.
It still feels so surreal that you’re both able to say that you belong to each other now. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how good he looks, how beautiful his heart is and how caring and loving he is.
He’s smiling as he takes you in, you’re wearing one of your night gowns that were specifically made for your honeymoon nights. His eyes continue to stare at you as you feel yourself grow even more nervous. The warmth inside you continues to rise, your cheeks becoming more hot as you look at him.
“My dear wife,” he says softly, his voice low. You start biting your bottom lip once again and his smile grows as he notices you becoming more shy at his words.
Slowly, he pulls himself away from the doorway and makes his way towards you. You gulp as you notice several buttons being undone from his shirt, showing you some skin. Heat travels to your cheeks once again once you realise you’re staring. You quickly try to avert your eyes from him but it is useless once he stands in front of you.
You could feel one of his hands reaching up to cup your face, tilting it towards his, making you look up into his eyes. The way his brown gentle eyes look into yours make you feel all hot over again. You would get lost into them forever if you could.
“It’s okay to stare, I’m all yours now.” He whispers with a small teasing smile. “You’re so beautiful.” He says as he caresses your face with fondness.
You feel yourself blush at his words, you lick your lips before clearing your throat. “You’re not so bad yourself.” You say with a shy smile.
He chuckles softly as he reciprocates your smile. His eyes continue to gaze into yours before his eyes move to your lips.
Your eyes widen slightly as your eyes catch his. “I think you’re beautiful too, the most handsome man that I’ve ever seen…” you whisper shyly. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his thumb trace your lips softly.
“Do I make you nervous, my love?” He asks teasingly as he leans his head down. He brushes his nose against yours gently before he grabs your face in both of his hands.
“I-I guess you do.” You answer softly.
“Why is that?” Anthony leans closer to your face. You can feel his breath on your lips, his nose touching yours once again.
You can feel your heart beating like crazy, feeling butterflies in your stomach. You wonder if he can hear your loud heartbeat as well. Your mouth feels extremely dry still you tried to swallow “It’s because,” your eyes shift from his eyes to his lips constantly “I-it’s our first night together…”
And with less hesitation and more neediness than you were expecting, Anthony’s lips are on yours. Your bottom lip slots between his while his hand moves to your jaw where he brushes his thumb against it delicately.
All your thoughts overwhelm your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what is going on. Eventually you lean closer against him and you move your hands around his shoulders as you kiss him back.
Anthony sucks lightly on your lips and then he slowly pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek. His lips travel all over your face and neck. You whimper as his mouth presses kisses all over your neck, your hands travelling to his hair and tugging lightly.
“I have been thinking about this moment for so long.” He rasps, kissing your throat softly. Your body trembles against his as he continues to cover your face and neck with kisses.
Your brain is all over the place, eyes heavy and clouded as you try to tell him how much you’ve been wanting him. “I have as well.” You finally whisper.
“How long have you wanted this?” Anthony whispers against your skin.
He groans and stops kissing you when you don’t reply to his question yet. Anthony stares at you, waiting for you to reply. Not realising your eyes were closed, you slowly open your eyes, looking straight into his eyes.
You swallow dry at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushes to your cheeks as you decide to tell him the actual truth, too anxious to even try and lie to your husband when he is looking at you like that. Like he’s about to devour you.
“Four years?” you answer, hesitant eyes jumping between his. “Ever since you told me about pleasure in the first place—”
Anthony groans and almost jumps at your lips. Kissing you full of passion, with everything that he can offer. You feel his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wants you open your mouth slightly for him. He slips his tongue past your parted lips and swirls it around yours.
You take all of his passion in, the warmth of his body, him being so close to you. The feel of his rough yet soft hands holding you close to his. You feel so lightheaded as he continues to kiss you.
After some time he slowly pulls away, finally giving you the chance to breathe in some air. Your whole body feels even more hot after the kiss, leaving you needy for his touch once again. You open your eyes as you take him in. His hair is a bit dishevelled from the way your hands were playing and tugging at it. He licks his lips as he gazes into your eyes.
“You’re so beautiful…” he whispers as his eyes travel all over your body. You feel breathless as he continues to look at you, looking at you with so much love and you suppose desire.
He slowly moves to sit next to you, he pats his thigh as he looks at you with a small smile. You blush furiously and your body trembles more as you move your body to sit on his lap. You wrap your legs around him and nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck, pecking his neck softly, too shy to look at him. Your heartbeat is beating so fast and your head is swimming. He chuckles as he wraps his arms around you, one hand comes to cradle your head as he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head.
“I would have never thought you'd be this shy.” He says teasingly and you continue to nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck at his words.
He lifts your head with one of his hands and your eyes catch his, his lips finding yours in a deep kiss; not wasting any time with slipping his tongue past your lips. The atmosphere in the room changes within seconds. Anthony is wrapped around you completely, a hand coming to cup one of your breasts, the other holding your ass. You never wanted and desired someone more.
A string of moans are slipping past your lips as Anthony drops his head down to press open mouthed kisses against the skin of your neck. Your hands rest on his stomach against his buttoned shirt, his abs warm underneath your palms. You could feel him grow underneath you, making you whimper against him.
“Anthony—” you gasp after he licks the place he sucked a mark onto your neck.
He moves his head away from your neck, quickly leaning forward to press his lips to yours in a gentle but deep kiss. “Your lips are so heavenly,” he murmurs against your lips.
Your head is clouded with lust and you feel so much love for him. Your brain is quite literally mush and you can’t seem to hear what he says to you.
“Huh?” You whisper dreamily.
Anthony chuckles lightly as he takes in your state.
“I asked,” he whispers as he leans his head back down to your ear, “if I could undress you.”
It takes your brain a moment to wrap around what he’s asking, right now, to you, and when it sinks in you feel yourself heat up even more.
You want him so badly and you’re extremely turned on but you would be lying if you weren’t nervous right now. Everything seems even more real when he asks you that question. Considering that you’re a virgin, you’re very inexperienced and it makes you a bit anxious. You want to be the best lover for him.
Anthony quickly senses your discomfort and pulls his head away from your neck, only to look at you.
You’re biting your lip as you try to look away from his intense but gentle stare. His hands come to cup your cheeks, turning your face towards his once again.
“Princess,” he whispers as he looks at you with so much love and patience. “I know this will be your first time and I promise I’ll be gentle with you. I want to take my time with you tonight and I want to make you feel good.” He says as he holds your face in his hands. Anthony’s fingers caress your cheeks and you slowly close your eyes as you enjoy his touch.
You open your eyes again to look at his eyes. His eyes were filled with lust a couple of minutes ago but now you could see more than that. Love. It makes your heart feel warm as you gaze into his eyes.
You bite your lip nervously once again and you see his eyes move to your lips. You sigh contemplating whether you should tell him about your insecurities or not. Deciding to be honest with him, you speak up finally. “I want this, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I love and need you. I just…” you sigh as you look down at your hands, “I want to be a good lover to you.”
Anthony looks at you with so much warmth and care that it makes your insides melt. He smiles as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I promise, you’ll always be a good lover to me. You’re literally perfect to me, you’ll always be good enough in every way.”
A soft smile grows on your face at his words and you lean up to kiss him gently. “Okay,” you whisper against his lips.
“Okay… what?” He questions with a playful smile. “I need to hear you say it.”
“I want you to undress me.” You whisper against his lips with a smile as you look deep into his eyes, “I want you.” Seconds later his lips press against yours.
The kiss is like velvet against yours, and there’s still no hurry when he tilts his head a millimeter to fit against you better. His lips are so soft, swollen from all the kisses you’ve shared. All your previous nerves slowly go away as Anthony kisses you so full with love. His mouth moves, delicate and slow. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world.
All you can taste, all you can feel, all you can see, all you can think about is him.
The whine that comes out of you only drives Anthony to seek out more of those sounds, they are potentially the most amazing sounds he’s ever heard. Your arms wrap around his neck, in an attempt to bring him closer to you. Your hips accidentally move against him making him groan against your lips at the action.
Anthony peels his lips off yours, about to say something, when you launch forward, chasing his lips. He groans softly and moves his hand around to hold your face in his hands. He’s trying to pull away, determined to say what he needs to say, but everytime he does he goes back in, like his lips can’t be away from yours for more than a second. After leaving a few short kisses, he pulls back fully, eyes glazed over and lips a little swollen. You’re both taking your time to catch your breaths as you both stare into each other’s eyes.
You try to catch your breath, and when your lips part and you inhale and taste him and only him and nothing but him and the oxygen refilling your lungs. Everything about it makes you drowsy, something sweeps across your bottom lip and your breath turns into a gasp. His tongue wraps itself against yours, hot and slick as he tastes you deeply and what had been a gasp is now a loud embarrassing moan.
The way he kisses you, you are convinced that he’s the best kisser ever. His kisses are so sensual, so passionate and so full of love.
“Lord, I need you so bad baby” he groans against your lips. You shudder against him and feel the sensation pool down low between your thighs. You know your underwear is ruined by now. You’re so wet and turned on. He’ll always be the only one able to do this to you.
“M-more, please please,” you whine against him.
“You know when you beg like this I can’t say no to you, my love.” He says with a big grin.
Fingertips find the hem of your nightgown and you lean back a bit. You raise your arms quickly to help him get rid of your white lacy nightgown.
You don’t know what to do with your hands at all. They’re trembling like crazy, and your core is, too, as he drops the piece of fabric to the floor and leans down to start kissing along the crook of your neck.
His large hands find the curve of your waist where it meets your hips and clutches to it, holding you tight as he works his way with kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts.
You can feel your heartbeat picking up as his hands reach for your hips, holding them and pressing your body closer to his. His lips move to ghost over your neck, slowly moving below your ear. “You’re so… beautiful” He whispers into your ear.
Immediately, you feel a chill go down your spine, the warm sensation pool down low and more wetness forming between your thighs.
You feel his tongue licking up a stripe of your neck, your eyes are fluttering shut and you tremble against him as a moan escapes your lips. You feel him pull away and you open your eyes slowly seeing him look at you as if he’s trying to hold himself back from jumping you.
His eyes wander all over your chest, you’re bare from the waist up and you can’t help but feel so desired as he looks at you. Feeling your cheeks heat up as he licks his lips as he stares you up and down.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mutters again in a very raw tone, his voice strained. Anthony breathes in through his nose, you blush harder at that comment and shiver when he exhales warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “God. You’re so gorgeous. I can’t get enough of you. Your very being consumes me.”
That’s all you’re given before he wraps her lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucks passionately.
“My lord” you whimper, nails grabbing at his white shirt or something to cling to, and you feel the warm vibrations of a chuckle against your flesh. His tongue begins licking, long licks with the flat of his tongue over your hard nipple as his other hand goes up to squeeze your other breast.
You whine as your core starts clenching around nothing, begging for attention. Instinctively you start moving your hips against his making him groan against your skin. His lips leave your breast with a wet pop and he looks at you intensely as you try to catch your breath. You’re panting, barely able to think straight as he pushes your hair back and kisses the corner of your lips lovingly.
His lips come to kiss your lips deeply once again. He both rolls you over so that you’re underneath him instead. So lost in the kiss already, you moan as you enjoy his touch on your hips.
“Ah!” You gasp as you feel his head lean down to lick and suck your neck while one of his hands comes to squeeze one of your breasts. You feel yourself aching, the feeling in between your legs feels almost unbearable as you could feel yourself dripping against your underwear.
“So beautiful…” he murmurs as he kisses your chest.
The tone of his voice makes your body feel like it’s blazing—like the fire of a warm fireplace on a cold winter night. It burns, but it warms every single inch of you from the inside out.
“It’s unfair,” you whine as he continues to kiss you.
“What is?” He whispers as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, coaxing a loud moan out of you.
“T-that I’m almost naked and you aren’t…” you whisper as he brings his head up to look at you.
He chuckles before leaning down to kiss your forehead lovingly. “My wife wants to see me naked?” He teases as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“Anthony!” You gasp before he leans down to kiss your bare shoulder. “That’s improper!”
“What?” He laughs at your reaction. He shakes his head as he continues to stare at you. “Everything we have done up until now tonight hasn’t been proper.” He whispers as he leans up to brush his nose against yours.
“I’ll ask again, do you want to see me naked?” He smiles as he looks at you.
You pout as your cheeks heat up at his question. “Why do I have to say it? Obviously I want to see you.”
Anthony chuckles before leaning down to peck your lips again. “Wasn’t so hard was it?”
You huff playfully before his hands come to grab yours, moving them towards his chest.
Your hands slip onto his bare chest, pushing the sleeves of his shirt off. His skin is hot, and so firm. He feels like a dream. You feel like you could wake up any moment, as if all of this is a dream. He helps you unbutton his shirt as he stares down at you. It comes off easily and you gape at the artwork that is his chest.
“Oh lord…” you gasp.
He smiles softly as he lets you admire him, enjoying your shameless gaze.
“All of this is for you,” he murmurs gently “and it’ll always be only for you.” He whispers as he takes one of your hands in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the action, making you blush even more. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. You love him so much. His mouth is like heaven to you. You’re convinced this is a dream still. He’s everything you could ever ask for. The kiss gets more heated the more you kiss each other. Your hands wander to the back of his head and you pull at his strands softly making him moan into your mouth.
The feel of his desire pressed against your heated skin is heavenly, and you roll your hips up into his to feel some friction against your core. You moan softly against his lips as you rub yourself against him.
He groans as you continue to grind up against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whine as he pushes your hips gently against the mattress, so desperate to feel him again.
You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing, and his hand moves down to your heat, into your underwear. His mouth falls from yours to unleash a heavy groan into your neck at the first slip of his fingers between your parted lips.
It's very, very wet; more wet than you'd honestly ever been and certainly more wet than he could've imagined in his wildest dreams.
There’s a smile on Anthony’s face as he slides a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirms at the sensation.
"You're so wet for me, kitten. I absolutely love it." You whimper at the nickname he gave you and you buck your hips up towards his hand in response, silently begging for more. He notices and slips a second finger in, his pace speeding up with the addition. Your hands clutch the off-white bed sheets as you move along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him both curl them and spread them.
You gasp, his lips make their way to yours, kissing you with everything that he has. "That feels good doesn't it love? You like it when I touch you like this?" Anthony groans and rubs your clit faster. You buck your hips and nod quietly. "Use your words angel," he taunts.
"Yes, yes, oh my god, yes please. yes," you moan loudly.
“Good,” he says, a smug smirk playing on his face. It’s incredible how easy it is for this man above you to turn you on and make a mess of you.
Anthony leans down to trap your lips in another deep kiss. You can feel him smile against your lips as you whimper against his mouth.
You feel your legs spread even more open for him at the feeling of his finger pleasuring you. His tongue slips into your mouth after another gasp falls from your lips. You can’t help but moan and whine as he continues to pleasure you. Your hands wander to the back of his head pulling at hair softly making him moan into your mouth.
“God, I want you so bad.” He groans as his hand shifts, thumb settling against your clit to work it smoothly, and he thrusts another finger inside you slowly, curling his fingers forward with every penetration until your thighs shake.
“You have me, always.” You whimper as your body trembles underneath him. So overwhelmed with the arousal and emotions you’re feeling right now.
His eyes are burning holes into yours, lust and love written all over them. When he fastens his motions inside you, you moan out again and squeeze your eyes shut. That burning intense feeling, a tight coil in your lower abdomen making your back arch beautifully.
“Open your eyes for me my love, please look at me.”
You open your eyes slowly, looking straight into his eyes. His intense gaze is what it takes to make the dam break. The hot feeling spreads all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving on their own against his hand.
“You’re doing so well for me baby girl,” He says as his fingers slow down, slipping out of you to rub your slit softly, still helping you ride out your orgasm.
As you feel your consciousness finally come back to you, you feel his fingers slip away from your heat. He slowly and gently pulls your underwear off your body leaving you completely bare for him. His eyes can’t seem to stay in one place as he admires how beautiful you are.
Standing up he slowly makes work of the rest of his clothing, leaving him naked in front of you. Your eyes widen as you take him in. You can’t help but wonder if he is going to be able to fit inside you. He’s huge. A chill goes down your spine as he licks his lips while he looks at you. He’s so handsome, his body is truly beautiful.
He slowly moves towards the bed and gently spreads your thighs apart as he fits himself between them. He positions his body against yours, you feel his hand come up to your face to caress your cheek again as you feel one of his hands wander all over your body making you breathless already.
You feel his member momentarily against your wetness which makes you thrust against him.
He pushes your back up against the bed, pressing himself flush against your body. He brings his lips down against your own once again, stealing your breath and making you whine needily in his mouth. He groans in response, his hands slowly drifting down from your waist towards your hips.
“I need you,” you pant against his lips, but Anthony pulls his hips away slightly with a small smirk on his face. “Please…”
You need him so bad. You feel him press kisses all over your face, he starts pressing tender kisses everywhere on your face and body. Panting you feel him slowly go down your body. He momentarily wraps his mouth around one of your nipples and sucks lightly making you arch your body against his. You feel him caress your arms softly, comforting you. Eventually you feel his lips move lower down your body. Littering your body full of love and affection.
You feel yourself dripping down the sheets, whining helplessly. You need him so bad.
He travels all the way down until he is face to face with your heat. Anthony gently spreads your legs further apart for him with his strong hands. You can see his arousal showing in his eyes. Licking his lips he leans down to press a kiss on one of your thighs, so close to where you need him the most.
A loud broken moan leaves your lips as his lips finally meet your wet heat. He dives between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance before he travels up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet tongue and sucking your button into his mouth.
You practically scream at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed. You feel your body trembling and you try to grind your wetness slowly against his lips.
Strong arms are locked around your thighs, he secures your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.
You can feel Anthony chuckle against your heat making you feel even more hot all over. His tongue is lapping at your lower lips. Squeaky, senseless noises come out from your throat. You’re squirming and he just sighs like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing than this right now, eating you out on your shared bed, and it’s so good you can barely even figure out what he’s doing with his tongue.
Anthony moans into you, the vibrations full and hot, and you splutter.
“A-ah t-this is too much” you squeak, your voice sounds strangled and full of desperation. You’re so close to the edge “I c-can’t this is too-too much.”
“Easy my love,” he whispers as he places a soft kiss on your right thigh. Your whole body is trembling from the new sensations he just gave you.
“My lord” you mumble softly.
“It’s okay Y/N, I know, I’ve got you” he coos again, teasing. “It’s a lot. Will you let me continue?”
“Y-yeah, just uh wait a second” you whine.
“Alright.”
But after a couple of seconds waiting it feels too much. It feels like hours are passing by. You’re already tired of waiting and he is, too. When he leans down to dip his tongue between your folds once again.
You sigh at the same time he does, except yours is high-pitched and his sounds so dreamy. Anthony is lapping at you with determination, taking care not to be too rough or too fast this time and push you over the edge only when you’re ready for it.
“Oh, my god,” you whimper, trembling digits sinking into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, trying to silence yourself. “My-my-my gooooohd…”
“I know” he mumbles, his lips sealing around your clit and you almost jump out of your skin at the action. “God- you taste good. You feel so good. You’re everything.”
You’re a mess of his name, you chant his name over and over again. Eyes are squeezing shut to the point of tears, his arms press into your hip bones to pin you in place as you buck into him again, trying to get closer to that feeling of his tongue lapping on your clit and urging him to do more.
“Ah Anthony baby, oh my goooood” you cry out loud. You’re sure the rest of the people in the house have heard you by now. He sucks lazily at your clit while he moves to curl his fingers into you. Anthony eventually sucks harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little bud while moving his fingers inside you a bit faster. You keep crying out his name between moans as you now hold onto his hair with both of your hands.
You are so so close. Suddenly you feel his fingers retreat from your core and you whine at the loss of his fingers. This makes Anthony chuckle. He leans down again. Slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraging him to do it again.
You feel so dizzy from his ministrations. Moaning and whining, you writhe underneath him. “Fuck, Anthonyyyy.” You whimper when he begins thrusting his tongue in and out of you just as his fingers had been doing moments before, hips bucking uncontrollably into his mouth as you repeatedly whine his name. You were this close to coming on his face, but your body needed one more little push.
“Come on, kitten, come for me.”
You gasp loudly as you feel your whole body trembling even more and then you feel your body tense as you come against his mouth. Your whole mind feels like exploding and all you can see is stars. You feel so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body is still trembling as you feel yourself come down from your high.
You feel Anthony still licking up your wet heat, his mouth is heavenly. He’s now licking every last remaining wetness coming out of your entrance, moaning at the taste.
You whimper because you feel so overstimulated. You tug at his hair softly trying to signal him that you can’t take it anymore for now.
“Such a good angel,” he whispers as he retreats his mouth from your heat and he wipes your juices off his mouth with a small smile while looking at you “You did so well my love.”
Anthony presses a kiss on your hip bone, then slowly moves his body, finally facing you. You’re still trying to catch your breath, trying to keep your eyes open. He smiles down at you with so much adoration, it makes your insides melt.
He leans down to press kisses down your neck to your shoulders making you giggle as he litters your body full of kisses.
“Make love to me, Anthony,” you sigh, and he groans against your neck. He pulls back just enough to look at you, stroking your hair back from your face as his eyes look deeply into yours.
He surges forward and kisses you so passionately, taking your breath away. You sigh into it, your eyes sliding shut as you bury your fingers in his hair. Anthony groans low, as your fingernails rake against his scalp. You melt into him as his arms hug you closer to him. You moan against his lips as you feel him massage your back and neck just slightly. This gave him the opportunity to swipe his tongue against your bottom lip, slipping it inside your mouth.
You let out more moans and whines against his lips as you both dance your tongues against one another. You whine as he pulls away smiling at you with a tender look in his eyes.
“You know I love you right?” He says as one of his hands reaches to rest against your cheek, stroking your soft skin. You feel yourself melt instantly as you look into his eyes and his soft touch.
“Of course I do, I love you too, so much.” You whisper and smile shyly as you lean up to him and you both meet in a soft kiss. The two of you kiss languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together.
It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.
You can’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, and he has no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.
“Oh, fuck” Anthony rasps, and it’s because he’s reaching down and grasping himself to line up between your lips and slide. He keeps rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. He loves the sounds you make as he spreads his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.
You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You’re still so so wet. Anthony swallows your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kisses you full of fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.
You’re trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covers your whole body with his. You writhe against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and making you see white.
“Are you ready my dearest? Let me know if I start to hurt you or if you want to stop.” He whispers as he looks deep into your eyes.
You bite your lip and nod, too shy and excited to talk.
“I’ll try to go slow at first, okay, angel?” He says before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He is rubbing the tip firmly over your swollen clit and your mind is all over the place.
“P-please, Anthony,” you stutter, your body trembling even more “p-put it in, please?”
He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands lean down to spread your outer lips sliding his dick teasingly around your core. You arch your back slightly and whine loudly out of frustration.
The moment you want to beg him again to put it in he leans down to line it up with your entrance. Your legs tremble underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. Anthony slides in so slowly it’s agonizing. He’s careful, like he’s afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. He’s so big. He leans down to kiss your lips gently as he moves more inside, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting.
Once he’s fully inside you, you sigh against his lips. You feel so full, as if he is made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders.You feel one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reaches up to your face.
“You okay?” He asks worriedly.
“Y-yeah, I just need a moment.” You murmur.
“Anything for you, my love.” He smiles as your eyes are drifting close.
You feel yourself gradually adjust to his size and you bite your lip as you open your eyes again to look up at your handsome husband on top of you.
“P-please move.” You beg.
He nods quietly and starts by fucking you slow and deep, one hand reaching down to play with your clit, while the other holds your hand tightly. The sting hurts you for a while, but it easily changes to a more pleasurable feeling as he moves against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he’s giving you is mixed between pain and pleasure.
He grunts as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin there and to whisper sweet nothings as he sets a pace.
“So tight…” he groans.
The angle is so good, but when his pace picks up he finally leans down to wrap his arms around you, that it makes you gasp and you grab the sheets around you, to fuck you harder and faster.
“You’re taking me so well, kitten. Doing so so, good for me. Y-you’re so perfect.”
You whimper as his lips, move back up to your lips, enveloping them in a passionate kiss.
At a certain point you feel the end of his strokes slide into a pressure point in your core that has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head from the pleasure he’s giving you. A loud noise like nothing you’ve ever made escapes your throat, a strange cry of his name.
“M-mmhmm fuck! Anthonyyyyy—!”
He leans down to whisper in your ear. “F-fuck you’re so loud for me princess, are you close?”
“Oh my” you moan, hot tears filling the corners of your eyes in pleasure, “I aaaaaam… I t-think so o-oh, fuck please!”
“Look at you, so desperate to come…”
The air is stuffy all around you, each harsh breath released only thickening it up, leaving your skin hot and your mind fuzzy. Another precise thrust has you whimpering, wrapping your legs around his hips, pushing him closer.
His mouth covers your own to swallow your mewls, you can feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tight, tight, tighter. His lips slide away from yours, wet and swollen and his breathing harsh as he tries to suck in air again, and everything is too much. It’s just too much for you to handle.
He’s quickening his pace, hips snapping to a fast tempo. “This pussy was made for this cock, isn’t it kitten?” His hands can’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You moan at the feeling of his speed, your third orgasm of the night, coming so close. Your arms wrap around him and your nails dig in his back making him groan. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, tingling down to your legs, ready to snap any second now.
“Always, so beautiful,” he whispers, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “You look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, god, bet you look pretty full of my cum too.”
“Please…” you whine as you think about him filling you up and you tighten your walls around him once again. “Yes, yesyes please. Fill me up Anthony… please.”
Those are the golden words he needed to hear, groaning he buries his face into your neck as he fucks into you, making the whole bed rattle, the wooden headboard slamming into the wall.
“Fuuuffuuucck… I’m g-gonna… I-I’m g-gon…na… A-Anthony-y… I-I love you I love you I nneeeeddd yyouhhh h n-nnno I wwaaant mooorrre, I-I’m gonna–”
“Cum for me, pretty. I got you. Show me that I’m the only one who can make you cum like this. Cum all over me, princess.”
You come with a loud cry, your body squirming underneath his as you hold his body closer to yours, your nails digging in his back, scratching it. This orgasm felt more intense than the others, you’re feeling so overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re feeling. Anthony groans in your ear as your walls spasm and pulse around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.
“Ah fuck—“ he moans, pushing himself up as he thrusts deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “Are you gonna take my cum like a good wife? Let me fill you up until my love is messy, hm?”
You nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. “Please… please put a baby inside me.”
He groans loudly at your words, he’s a stuttering mess and his hips are jerking wildly without his permission and he’s cumming inside of you deeply. The warmth of his seed fills you up and spreads within you. He looks so beautiful coming undone on top of you.
You’re both trying to catch your breaths as he leans his forehead against yours. Eventually you feel him slowly roll off of you and he lays down next to you while he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You turn to your side towards him as he pulls you against him, his body hot and slick from sweat.
“I love you so much,” he says, his voice low, with a huge smile on his face.
“I love you too,” you say as you blush at how intensely he looks at you. You’re giggling softly as he wraps his arms around you, holding you impossibly closer to his body.
“You’re everything to me… so perfect.” He whispers as he leans his lips down to yours to kiss you gently.
“You’re everything to me too…” you say against his lips with a smile.
The both of you soon continue to make conversation as you hold onto each other. Laughing and talking until you’re too tired to stay up anymore. The night is filled with touches, kisses and so much love.
——
When you wake up, it’s the morning, light slips through the partially open blinds and warms the room. You feel all hot, Anthony’s body wrapping around you from behind, spooning you, holding you close to him. Your legs are tangled together, and both of you are still naked, laying under the covers.
You feel him nuzzle against you, melting against him, still feeling so hot. Barely awake, you whine as you try to kick the thick cover off of your bare body and you sigh into your pillow. After a few more minutes of unsuccessfully trying to get back to sleep, your eyes slid open only to end up squinting at the offending sunlight.
You close your eyes again and yawn, stretching your limbs and a smile plays on your face once you’re done. At your movements, your husband moves closer, groaning and wrapping his arms around you, tugging you even closer to him until your back is pressed up against his warm chest. You could feel his breath on your neck, soft and slow. His morning wood pressing against your ass and you feel your cheeks heat up at the feeling. Rolling over, you’re met with Anthony’s sleepy face. You smile once again as you take in his soft and peaceful face, you bring one of your hands to trace his lips with your fingertips. Your fingers travel to his messy hair, running your fingers through his hair gently.
Anthony sighs softly before tugging your body closer to his once again. Your eyes start to drift shut again, sleep overtaking you slowly. You feel so content, being able to hold and just enjoy the morning with the love of your life. But before you can fall asleep once again, you feel his lips on your neck.
“Hmmm,” you mumble, still very sleepy. “What are you doing?” You giggle and try to wiggle away from him. His grip tightens around your waist, tugging you closer to his body once again.
Nuzzling his face against your neck, he responds, “You’re so warm and so beautiful...” He says as his fingers trace your back so gently and his fingertips feel so soft against your skin.
You giggle as he continues to kiss your neck, before you know it he reaches back to take the covers and pull them over your bodies. Cuddling you once again while holding your naked body against his.
“Anthony...” Your whines slowly turn into soft moans as he continues to kiss your neck. He’s switching between soft small chaste kisses to wet and deep kisses that you know will leave marks on your skin.
His kisses travel to your jaw, nipping at it gently making you a whimpering mess. He is so warm against you, cocooning you in his arms and making you melt against his touch. You feel more wetness pool down low between your thighs the more he touches and kisses you. Rubbing your legs against each other, to get some friction, you hear Anthony chuckle before one of his hands comes between your thighs, pushing your legs apart for him.
“I can smell how wet you are…” He whispers against your skin making you whine against him.
His mouth moves slowly towards your lips, engulfing your mouth in a deep and slow kiss. Anthony always kisses you like he has all the time in the world. His fingers move from your waist to your upper back, and his skin is so hot and wet against yours and to make things even worse his hands move once again to cup your face gently in his hands, deepening the kiss once again.
You wrap your arms around him as you hold him closer to your body. You feel his dick, so hard against your heat, throbbing against you. Bringing your leg up, you wrap it around his hip, grinding your wetness against him. He groans as he feels your dripping core against him.
“Please… Anthony… I need you.” You whisper against his lips. His fingers tighten against your hips as he grunts at your words. He removes his lips from yours, moving his mouth to your ear.
“How do you want me?” He whispers into your ear, his voice deep. Your body shudders at his words and you whine as you continue to grind against him.
“I-I want you to take me.” You stutter shyly.
“How do you want me to take you?” He groans as his dick slips between your folds. “I have some ideas…”
Your cheeks heat up as he rolls you onto your stomach. He moves himself behind you, pulling your hips up, ass in the air for him. He stares at your wet heat, clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. Your body trembles with anticipation. You’re dripping, so soaked for him.
Seconds later you feel his cock rubbing up and down your slit. You grip the sheets as he circles the tip around your entrance and you whimper as you buck your hips against him, wanting him to fill you up.
He grips your hips, holding you so you don’t make any movements any more. “Bad kitten… so impatient.” Anthony groans when you wiggle for him, spreading your legs a bit more for him exposing more of your pussy.
“I want you so bad…” you whine, your cheeks heat up at your new favourite pet name he has for you. “D-daddy please… fill me up. Make love to me, I want your babies…”
He growls at the word and you’re glad that pulled a reaction out of him. He continues to circle his tip around your entrance, pulling more desperate whimpers from your lips. Wiggling your hips you try to push back against him but the strong hold that he has on you makes it hard for you to move.
A broken gasp leaves your lips as he finally slides the tip inside you. He gradually slides more of his thickness inside you and you tremble more underneath him. The pressure of his massive dick deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.
“Fuck kitty,” he groans breathlessly, as his hands trace your body gently. “You’re taking me so well, we’re almost there.”
He thrusts the last parts of himself inside you, filling you up to the brim, you moan as he halts his movements, finally inside you all the way. “Fuck, angel, you look so beautiful like this, so small, taking me all the way underneath me.” He can’t control the words that leave his lips as his hips move, quickly pulling himself out of you making you whine at the empty feeling. “My wife… such a needy kitten.” He groans before he thrusts himself all the way inside your pussy again.
“A-Ah daddy… oh my god—” you hiccup as he moves his hips slowly against you. You cry out as he thrusts so deep inside you that it has your body slumping against the bed. His hands come to move to squeeze the flesh of your ass while he continues to move against you.
You moan loudly, arching your back and pressing your ass up against him, and he grabs your asscheeks, keeping the angle perfect as he starts rolling his hips deeply into you. The noises that are spilling off your lips drive him insane, his dick throbbing inside you as you start to tighten around him. He’s so deep, hitting your cervix repeatedly making your eyes roll back in your head.
“Does my wife love being filled like this?” He moans as he leans down to press kisses against your shoulders.
Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell him, breathlessly, about how good he is making you feel. The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more. Anthony picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.
You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the pillow to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, whining you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his big cock. He moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, his tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head once again as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.
“F-fuck fuck fuck, this feels so goooohhhood my lord, p-please more… harder please”
“Yeah? You love being filled with all of my cock don’t you?” He grunts as he slaps your ass once making you cry out in pleasure. Your moans grow louder and louder as well as the sounds of your pussy that keep meeting his dick over and over again. The sounds mix along with your desperate whimpers. “Your pussy is so tight and wet around me, begging me to fill you up in other ways… begging for my seed.”
“God, fuck Anthony, daddy fuck p-pleaaaase I—”
You whine as your eyes roll back inside your head.
“What do you want, kitten?” He groans while one of his hands reach around you to slip against your clit making you writhe against him as he applies pressure. The pleasure has the tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, dying for your release.
“Oh, o-oh m-my… please sir, h-harder, faster p-p-pleaaseee.” You squeak out in between moans. The wet noises of him easing into you over and over has your cheeks burning, realising just how wet and needy you are for him.
He growls, gripping your hips tighter as he picks up his pace once more. Your skin is all sweaty and hot. You try to catch your breath but from how Anthony is trusting inside you and the rubbing against your clit it feels almost impossible to do so.
“Does that feel good princess?” He asks as he leans down his body closer to yours making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you like it.”
“Yes! I-it feels sooooo gooood, Anthonyyyy—” you whine as he continues to hit your sensitive spots inside you. His fingers press down on your little button making you squirm. The tension continues to build up as the pleasure is becoming too overwhelming. You are crying out for him, your moans almost sounding like his name, and he moves his head down once again and licks your neck.
Anthony snaps his hips into you again and again, thrusting deep, causing you to see stars from knowing just how to pleasure you. Feeling like your head is swimming once again, you whine. “I’m so close, my love, please…” you beg desperately. You only need one more little push, a little bit more attention to reach your peak.
“Come for me kitten…” he whispers against your ear. “Cum around me… let me put my heir inside you.”
His hips never slow down as he massages your clit. The coil finally snaps, pleasure erupts in waves as heat overflows your body as you arch your back. You can’t stop yourself from shaking as you come against him. You almost black out because of the intensity of your orgasm, trembling like crazy. You feel yourself gushing against him, you moan as the overstimulation is getting to you.
“Fuck!” He grunts as he looks at you and feels you squirting all over him. “I wanna fill you up, my love.” His pace is becoming erratic, with less finesse as he charges towards his own finish line. “Going to fuck a baby into you, angel. Get you nice and full…”
Your walls pulse and become tighter around him as he continues to hit your cervix. He groans as his movements become more sloppy. Loud whimpers leave your lips as he finally spills his seed inside you, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pools deep inside you.
Anthony sighs as he finally feels his climax subside. His cock finishes its weak pulses, and he gently pulls out of your spent hole, making you whimper at the loss and he watches his seed drool out of you. Your pussy continues to clench repeatedly and he feels himself harden again at the sight. He wants to take you again but he knows he needs you to recover first.
“Hmmm, I think your little cunt needs to look like this every single day, don’t you?” He whispers with a smile.
You’re still trying to catch your breath as you whine every now and then. He moves off the bed, making his way to the bathroom to get a warm, wet cloth and returns to your legs to clean you carefully. Once he’s done he comes back into bed, wrapping his arms around you instantly.
“You did so well my love,” he whispers as he places soft kisses against your temples. Your cheeks burn at his sweet words. He leans down to capture your lips in another kiss. Kissing each other languidly for a while before you feel him trace your thighs with his fingers. You pull away and you raise your eyebrows at him.
“What?” He chuckles, playing coy and tries not to laugh as you shake your head with amusement.
“I know you want more… I can practically feel how hard you are against me.”
He hums at your words with a smile as his lips move against yours again. “I’ll always want you.”
Heat rises to your cheeks at his words. “Me too…” you whisper shyly.
“I’ve been very nice, very good to you. Maybe you would love to squirt all over me again?” He smiles at you deviously as you gasp, giving him a playful push.
“Anthony!” You squeal before he holds your body close to his, swallowing your noises as he kisses you deeply. Both of your laughs turn into breathy moans as you both continue to touch each other.
As he kisses and touches you again and again, you settle in for a long day, as Anthony intends on wearing you out.
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qin shi huang with yoriichi tsugikuni!fem!reader headcanons
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warnings: spoilers from manga, ooc, slow burn friends-to-lovers troupe
Special thanks to @onecantsimply, @yellow-snark and @thatstrangesheep for their feedback and help with these headcanons! Enjoy! :)
Even in death, Qin Shi Huang was an emperor whom everyone respected as the ‘king who began everything’. He had reunited the annexed nations of China, a guiding light who led his people bringing peace and prosperity after almost a millennium of strife. Now, within the vast afterlife known as Valhalla, he reigned over a substantial amount of territory alongside his successors, working as a cohesive council when conflict arose.
Today, however, he has come to handle the problem on his own terms. For the last two months, men, women, and even children have gone missing from the foot of the northeastern mountains. Given the harsh environment, it is not too odd to believe that the cause of their disappearance might be an attack from a wild animal, angering the spirits who guard the terrain, or just simply got lost.
But the disemboweled bodies told the emperor a different story: there is a beast devouring his people, and it is certainly not a bear. For a split moment, Qin Shi Huang feared that Chi You had somehow returned from beyond its miserable grave and had come back to take revenge on the ‘insolent whelp’ who would not bow before its bony knees as payment for being accepted as an emperor of China.
If that were truly the case, though, there would be more corpses strewn about the mountain base than the current number of victims. Qin Shi Huang had already defeated the god, and he will do it again to protect his subjects. Such is the road he leads as an emperor, after all~.
So imagine his surprise when he comes across a six-armed being with pasty skin and glowing golden sclera, hunched over the corpse of a man cradling his child. It was not Chi You, but a demon. A demon that was the stuff of legends many years ago, only for them to suddenly vanish and become nothing more than a bedtime story to keep children from sneaking off at night.
And now, here is the great emperor, face-to-face with this drooling beast. Qin Shi Huang frowned, bending his sinewy body into an offensive position. Just when he was about to launch an attack, his opponent’s head rolled off its shoulders. He blinked, watching the demon’s body collapse onto the grass, twitching rapidly before disintegrating into dust. Hm? He hadn’t even moved! Unless the presence of an emperor is that powerful before a demon that it self destructs?
“Are you all right?” Qin Shi Huang then saw a figure standing where the demon had been, sword unsheathed. At first glance, she seemed like an ordinary traveler by the way she dressed, but the emperor knew that she was certainly not an ordinary person. Not from the tremendous amount of chi circulating around this woman’s body and the sword fastened at her waist.
She was a warrior as Chun Yan had been.
He grinned. “Hao!”
[Eye Color] orbs blinked at him in confusion, tilting her head to the side as she repeated the word. “Does that mean…you are hurt?”
Zori sandals stomped against the bloodied soil as she strode over to him, astounding Qin Shi Huang with her agility. She frowned slightly, her eyes scanning over his body. “You…are all right, it appears.” She glanced up at him. “I…apologize if I had gotten…your clothes dirty. You are a young lord, yes?”
Qin Shi Huang frowned. “Buhao.”
“Hm?”
He raised his right hand, pressing his middle and index fingers together before he pointed them towards the ground, the golden nail guards glowing beneath the moonlight. “Humble yourself. You are in the presence of an emperor. Be grateful I have not executed you for your impudence.”
“You…are an emperor?”
That was how the greatest emperor in all of Chinese history crossed paths with the greatest Demon Slayer in history, the Mother of All Breathing Techniques, the Sun Hashira [First Name] [Last Name].
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In your defense, you never would have guessed that the man who had been endangered moments ago had not been a feudal lord looking for trouble in these woods, but an emperor who had come to kill the demon devouring his people.
You did apologize for being rude, and politely asked His Imperial Majesty if there was a town close by. You lived deep in the mountains, though in the opposite direction of his territory. It would take about two days to return should you leave now. That was only if you were lucky enough to not come across any more demons on your journey back home.
To your surprise, this emperor all but commanded you to follow him to his palace. He boasted that it was the largest one in Valhalla, with the finest food and rooms available for only esteemed guests and members of his court. However, since you did humble yourself before him, he will make an exception and allow a weary traveler to stay in the guest quarters for the night. You thanked him, trailing after the man through the woods to the crowded streets of a bustling city and right up the stone footsteps of an extravagant palace the likes of which you had never seen before.
You dared to say that it was much bigger than the Ubuyashiki compound.
With a clap of his jeweled hands, a group of young maidens in flowing robes appeared before him. He ordered them to make sure you received the most excellent care, including running a warm bath and mending your damaged clothes. Before you could have a moment to say something, you were immediately whisked away to another part of the palace until dinner was ready.
The food was just as extravagant as the clothes that the maidens had dressed you in. It was almost too much, but you dared to not insult your host. Instead, you bowed your head to him in gratitude and ate as much as you could without being too rude. Thankfully you could recall some of your table manners from when you had been alive, before becoming a Hashira and just the daughter of a prestigious household in the Sengoku era.
Between the raucous laughter and idle chatter amongst the others who dined at this table, you had almost expected to be asked to leave or escorted out of the banquet hall so that the emperor could speak to his fellow countrymen freely without the presence of an outsider.
Instead, His Imperial Majesty asked you many questions. Who you are, why were you in the woods, how did you defeat the demon, etc. You answered them to the best of your ability, humbly explaining that you had once been a Demon Slayer and trained to exterminate the ones who came out at night to consume human flesh. There is nothing special about you.
You had simply worked hard, protected humanity until your untimely death. There was no need for him to know of your ability to see the Transparent World, much less the Breathing Techniques of a Demon Slayer.
Some secrets were meant to be just that: secrets. And you were bad at explaining things; it had been a miracle that the Hashiras, those whom you had worked alongside all those years ago, could comprehend your words and adapt the Sun Breathing techniques into their own variations: Water, Insect, Flame, Wind, Stone, and so forth.
Again the emperor surprised you; he seemed intrigued by the Breathing Styles and continued to ask questions about how to use it until the handmaidens escorted you to the guest quarters later that night, although His Imperial Majesty wished to keep speaking even in a drunken stupor.
The following morning, you thanked the emperor for his hospitality and left the palace. An armed entourage followed you out to the city’s borders to make sure you would not try to attack His Imperial Majesty nor the citizens. You thanked them for their vigilance and hard work before beginning the journey towards your humble home.
You were certain that this was the first and only time you would come across royalty and thought nothing of it in the days that went by upon returning, weeks becoming almost two months since the demon attack. You would either be tending to the crops or practicing your swordsmanship. Eventually, it was time for you to venture down from the mountains to restock on your supplies.
The villagers who lived at the mountain’s edge were kind people. Some of them were elderly and required assistance with manual labor or errands. You did not mind helping them, and were quite hesitant to accept anything from them, especially rice or other precarious commodities.
Most were merchants who traveled a great distance from the village to the city to sell their wares. How could you even consider taking that away from them? To your dismay, they were quite stubborn and practically shoved it in your hands.
The ‘payment’ from the villagers, including the usual amount of items you purchased from the vendors, became too much for you to carry without making two trips up and down the mountain.
You were almost considering having to borrow a cart when a voice called out to you.
Turning around, your eyes widened in shock at the appearance of the emperor Qin Shi Huang walking down the muddied main road, flanked by four or five armed soldiers. He recognized you immediately, almost running with a wide grin on his face.
He’d been wanting to continue his conversation with you, yet due to his workload in the palace prevented him from venturing out sooner. You had also been difficult to track down as no one seemed to be aware that a Demon Slayer wearing hanafuda earrings existed in Valhalla except for a young whelp and his little sister living in the floating cities alongside the Valkyries.
But now, he’s here and ready to chat~. You should be grateful he had traveled such a long way to visit. He is an emperor after all. He was willing to help carry the supplies up the mountains if it meant he had an opportunity to challenge you to a fight and idly chatter over drinks.
Upon explaining that you did not drink alcohol, the emperor told you not to fret. He’s come prepared. Revealing a large jug of corked liquor in his hand with a wide grin, you realized that he would not go away even if you politely asked him too.
So with great reluctance, you guided Qin and his entourage up the mountains, some of them carrying your supplies.
A peaceful day became chaotic. And from this single afternoon of idle chatter and sparring with an incredibly powerful fighter transitioned to an unlikely friendship. Qin Shi Huang was nothing like Sumiyoshi, that much was certain.
Where Sumiyoshi was a humble man blessed to have a family in turbulent times, the boastful emperor had been an unwanted child from the moment he was born. If it had not been for his mentor and mother, that meek little boy would not have the confidence to move forward and pave the road for his people to live in peace, let alone find a method to deal with the Zhao’s anger aimed at him simply because he was from royalty.
He had many children sired from his concubines but he never took an empress, much to his council’s annoyance even in the afterlife. Chun Yan too, of all people!
Yet despite such different personalities from two different people who are your friends….you knew they both possessed kindness and empathy. Why else would an emperor continue to maintain contact with you via letters and occasionally visit you in the mountains over the next thirty years?
He’s a man who had led his people into prosperity after all, the king of all kings.
You had lost so much when you were alive…is it truly all right to be selfish and treasure Qin Shi Huang as a friend, an emperor of all people?
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Qin Shi Huang quickly discovered that there was more to his new friend than being a calm, unreadable individual who never raised her voice once even when he had been purposely annoying just to gauge a reaction.
The Sun Hashira…she was perfect. A beautiful, complex creature who values integrity and kindness above all else. She did not enjoy fighting, preferring a quiet life away from society than challenging one opponent after another. And like him, she knew what it meant to lose a loved one.
When it came to strength, she once told him, those who are marked like herself will all meet the same fate. He had an idea as to the cryptic meaning behind her words…and he prayed that she would live in this afterlife.
When he revealed his past to her, what he had done as a child until his death, the Sun Hashira simply accepted it all as they say together on the snowy veranda of her small home.
“To live in an era of conflict…there can never be true peace without bloodshed. Your Imperial Majesty had gone through so much….and you were loved deeply by Chun Yan. I wish….I could have met her….and thank her for raising a wonderful, strong son.”
Qin Shi Huang.exe stopped working for a span of five seconds before he tried to hide his embarrassment with a swing of the warm sake that his host had prepared especially for them to celebrate the New Year together.
Another year has come and gone…so why was it that his heart hasn’t stopped hammering against his ribcage?
Bonus Content:
After five years of sending luxurious gifts and love letters, it took a stammering confession from the emperor to convey his feelings towards the Sun Hashira.
Although she did not want to marry right away, she humbly accepted a period of courtship from China’s greatest emperor until it was appropriate to be welcomed as his empress.
Some of his court were pleased that he had finally selected a wife to become the mother of the nation, but there were others who believed that [First Name] was too independent and would not respect the traditions required to follow after becoming an empress.
Needless to say, Qin Shi Huang made an example of the courtiers who dared to disrespect his new wife behind closed doors. His warning also extended to the concubines, should they try to do something malicious out of petty jealousy.
Quality time included sampling delicacies in the garden, sparring matches, and cuddling in his private quarters.
Chun Yan approved of [First Name], congratulating her adoptive son on finding a woman who can keep up with his shenanigans.
The domestic bliss between the emperor and empress never wavered…until Brunhilde approached the palace and asked for their aid to fight against the gods. Both of them.
If it hadn’t been for [First Name]’s benevolence, Qin would have immediately executed the Valkyrie on the spot for her arrogance. Instead he gave her the courtesy and listened to her proposal regarding the event called Ragnarok. A battle royale until one opponent is annihilated.
The emperor would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested, but he had no intention of bringing his Sun Hashira into it. He wanted her to spend this afterlife in peace, not to put her life on the line again.
Alas, his wife was stubborn. He agreed to Brunhilde’s terms so long as she agreed to his terms. Once she left the palace, he pulled his empress into a long talk about this…situation.
Whatever obstacles will come their way, they will face it together. The Sun Hashira isn’t alone anymore.
Taglist:
@the-dumber-scaramouche
@onecantsimply
@recreationalfanfics
@deathmetalunicorn1
@yellow-snark
@thatstrangesheep
@dance-till-the-death
@staticradiotv​
Honorable mentions:
@myrisan-melodies​
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madame-fear · 3 months
Text
*ೃ༄ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 .ೃ࿐
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[ one | two ]
ೀ amira speaks! : Based on this plot. Okay,, I know I said I would write it all in one part, but splitting it in two helps me stay motivated to keep writing. 🙈 Smut will be in part two. This chapter only contains Luke being a bit possesive with you. Enjoy! 💕 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : Prince Lucerys had his eyes set on you ever since you were children, and his affection for you grew stronger when you comforted him after losing his eye at the hands of his Uncle Aemond. But when your time of marrying another Lord comes in your early 20s, the now young Lord of Driftmark isn’t happy at all — though, he plans on making you his, as you were always supposed to be. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 2.1k
˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : AU, smut, friends to lovers, a bit of an obsessive Lucerys. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : One Eyed!Lord!Lucerys x (childhood best friend)!Reader
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Lucerys Velaryon, your childhood best friend, had grown to be known as the “One Eyed Prince”; or the “One Eyed Bastard”, as many referred to him.
The loss of his eye had been greatly significant in his early life, having lost it after trying to defend his older brother Jace and his cousins from his uncle Aemond. If anything, it had helped to encourage and fuel the resentment their families felt for one another. And you had been there to witness the tense aftermath of the situation.
Your mere presence was enough to comfort Lucerys when you were just young children; you had a shoulder for him to cry on if he wished to grieve his eye, until he became used to living with it. “The loss of your eye is a symbol of the courage you had to confront your uncle, and defend your loved ones,” you constantly reminded him, embracing him tightly whenever he needed you. And the comfort he so desperately sought for, was always found in you.
You had always been there for the Velaryon prince, before and after the incident with his eye. But, there was something in that constant warming comfort you provided for him, that made Lucerys feel as if he could melt right under your love and attention. Perhaps, it was something he had been feeling deep down inside of him without even admitting it to himself, you were supposed to be just a good friend — but during the aftermath of his eye loss, nothing else mattered to you except his well-being.
You made sure to spend as much time as needed with him, offering comfort and love; which made Luke realise, just how perfect you were in every sense. Hardly any other woman could possibly compare to the inner and outer perfection you so gracefully carried.
The years passed by, and his personality simply grew to be more of a cold, and reserved one; compared to the timid, innocent boy Lucerys used to be. You couldn’t complain — his personality around you remained as endearing and gentle as it always used to be, though a bit more overprotective. You had grown to be as delicate as glass, precious as the petal of a flower; how could Luke not be protective over you? Especially since he was particularly fond of you... In more than just a friendly way.
Every boy, Prince, and Lord had their eyes fixed on you whenever you passed by, occasionally getting to flirt with you and making you laugh. Lucerys was never exactly proud of this, especially when another man tried to flirt with you in front of his face. He always kept a close eye on you, and made sure to advert your attention away from those men with any excuse that came to him. Jealousy ran on his blood like a fiery venom, and it was impossible for him to hide it — yet, you never realised the obvious intentions he had of keeping you away from anyone who wanted to compete against him for your affection.
Lucerys’ efforts where never in vain, they worked just the way he wanted. You always gossiped with Lucerys about whatever man tried to woo you, laughing to yourselves at your own remarks — and it never seemed as if you were interested in anyone else, except Lucerys when his presence was near your own. Compared to him, you weren’t exactly discreet when your gaze was fixed on his features, and to him, that was something to hold great pride for.
As you had always done since childhood, you sat under a large tree that you both considered your secret spot. The weight of his head rested peacefully on your lap, with his eye closed. One of your hands held a book, which you were reading outloud to him, and your other free hand mindlessly played with his dark curly hair. Both of you had managed to find a free space between your duties, deciding to spend some quality time together after quite some time of not having seen each other.
He now might be the Lord of Driftmark, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t visit you, and do the same things you had done since children. After all, the responsabilities that came with being a Lord were exhausting — could he not calmly rest with you, the woman that practically owned his heart, feeling your fingers mess with his hair and your soothing voice reading to him?
Pausing in between your lecture, you softly tilted your head towards him, admiring how peaceful he seemed with his head weighing on your lap. Teasingly, your fingers moved from playing with strands of his hair, and they moved to slowly caress the skin on his cheeks. “Have you fallen asleep already?” you inquired, with an amused voice tone and a growing smile at the corner of your lips.
Like your own, Lucerys couldn’t help but immediatly smile, softly chuckling as he opened his eye. “I am very well awake, love, and attentively listening to you.” his green eye stared at you admiringly, appreciating how the sunlight reflected gracefully on your features. The cold, reserved personality he had grown into, fortunately never affected your relationship.
Yes, Luke might have grown quieter and more kept to himself, but whenever you were near him all of that faded away — being the sweet, gentle boy Lucerys had always been with you. Except that, he might be quite a bit possesive around you; with no other Lord or Prince being allowed to flirt with you, just a mere cold glare with his eye as he stood by your side was enough to frighten them away.
A soft chuckle spurred from you as your fingernails playfully scraped on his skin to caress him. His eye felt heavy, feeling as if he could fall asleep right there at the mere sensation of your warm touch. “I have greatly missed you, Luke.” you began speaking, as his grin grew wider. “I’m quite content having been able to sneak away from our duties to be together. Your duties as the Lord of Driftmark are taking your attention away from me.”
Part of you said that as a jest, with both of you laughing softly at it, and another part of you was being wholeheartedly genuine. And having known you since childhood, he immediatly noticed that. Which left him quietly surprised, to hear suh confession — but Luke wasn’t going to deny the fact that he enjoyed having you clinging to him for his attention and care.
“I could say the same to you, byka jorraelagon.” lazily, he raised his hand. His fingertip lovingly caressed you under your chin, fixing his stare on your delicate features. “But don’t worry too much about it. None of my duties as Lord ever take you off from my mind, I can assure you.” a rosy hue smeared across your cheeks, nearly melting as his digit traced your skin under your chin. It seemed as if he knew exactly what to say, and how to touch you. It was satisfying enough for him to see your reaction, which was just the one he wanted.
Softly, you sighed, allowing him to keep stroking your skin. You had always longed for these private moments between the two of you, where you could do or say anything without caring for anything else. The smile that had grown at the corner of your lips dropped faintly, becoming a grimace as you frowned. Your expressions slowly turned into a despondent one, to which Lucerys immediatly noticed as his eye stared attentively at you.
Your own thoughts about enjoying solitude with him, escaping from your own responsibilities just to feel the warmth of each ofher’s presences, reminded you of your betrothal — and you were afraid such compromise would stand in the way of your meetings with Lucerys, in one way or another.
“What’s the matter?” he cooed calmly, noticing the change in your demeanor. You offered him a frowny smile. “Nothing, Luke. Everything is alright. Why?” as quick as you were in dismissing his concern for you, he wouldn’t leave it just there. “I know you. Your face says otherwise, something happened.” slowly, he stopped caressing you under your chin with his fingertip, just to rest his hands on his chest as Lucerys stared at you attentively.
“What happened? I need to know, (y/n).” Lucerys kept insisting, and you knew he wouldn’t give up so easily — not when he noticed something was troubling you. You huffed at the mere thought of it, beginning to shake your head in disappointment. “It’s just...” the words trailed off, hesitating for a moment before continuing. Your gaze lingered elsewhere, feeling how his eye was fixed on you.
“I have been betrothed— And... I’m afraid our moments together will not be as often as they currently are.” you managed to spill out. The words spurred mumbled, but they escaped from your lips, finally.
Moving your stare back to him, his expression was cold — yet, mixed with other emotions. Luke seemed confused, blankless, and yet... So impotent. Betrothals were a duty that no noble could ever from, it was a fate expected for you. But you should be betrothed to him. He could treat you so much better than any other mediocre, arrogant Lord. No one knew you better, than Lord Lucerys himself.
His head weightened further on your head, before he rapidly moved to sit by your side, instead of resting on your lap. His eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Betrothed?” he inquired in a low tone. “Betrothed to whom, exactly?” both your hands now laid on your lap, fidgeting anxiously with your own fingers. Bewilder was expressed all across his young features. Your eyes stared down at your fingers, nibbling on your lower lip discreetly.
“I have been betrothed into House Lannister.” you mumbled, “Specifically to Loren Lannister.” deciding to stare at him, you noticed his jaw clenched slightly. His hazel eye lowered it’s sight to the vividly green grass, thinking quietly to himself. You stared at him nervously, noticing the silence looming between of you, amidst the faint sounds of the birds chirping.
House Lannister. The Lannisters had quite a reputation of their own — he always thought of them as arrogant, petty, and proud of themselves. Out of all the noble Houses that there were, you had to be betrothed into House Lannister? “Velaryon” suits you better, anyways — the young Lord knew he would eventually get away with what was his. You were not getting married to some cheap Lannister, not under his watch. A pretty little thing such as yourself will not go to waste with the One Eyed Lord.
“I see.” Luke coldly retorted. Despite his clear bemuse at the abrupt news, he felt satisfied with himself — he knew how he would find his way to get you out of that dreadful betrothal of yours. And that way, you’d be entirely free for him once again. Offering a warm smile, the One Eyed Velaryon took your delicate hand lovingly, caressing your skin with his thumb. He felt invitingly soothing, making you mindlessly grin and become flustered at the touch of his digit on your flesh. “But don’t worry, my love. I’m certain your betrothal will not affect our frequent meetings.” His hand raised your own towards his rosy lips, pressing them gently against your knuckles to give them a loving kiss. The rosy hue tainted on your cheeks leisurely became a reddish tone, offering him a sheepish smile to hide away your shyness whenever Luke demonstrated tender affection towards you — an endearing type of affection that he never thought of giving to someone else. Doubt overwhelmed you at hearing his confident statement.
“Are you...” the warmth of his lips on your knuckles lingered, as he pulled away, staring at you with his only eye. Gods, how pretty you were when it was obvious you were melting for him. “Are you quite certain about it? What if... What if my betrothed dislikes the idea of us–” the young Lord shook his head, using his other free hand to place it on your cheek comfortingly. You immediatly gave into it, allowing your head to fall against the palm of his hand.
“Your betrothed will say nothing, because I will find a way of being together— as I always do.”
You meekly smiled at him, softly allowing some chuckles to spur from those beauteous lips of yours; clearly content at his determination.
You were endearingly sweet— so innocent. Of course the One Eyed Lord had everything mapped out to find his way to you, as he had always done ever since you were children. Your lame excuse of a betrothed was no challenge to him, as he had exactly planned out how to get rid of him; having you all for himself, without anyone to possibly disturb your relationship.
You didn’t belong in House Lannister, and much less in Casterly Rock. You beloged in House Velaryon — you belonged in Driftmark. And Lucerys wouldn’t have it any other way.
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♡ taglist : ♡
@jacesvelaryons @jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @phantasyy @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @feliuuuksks @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1 @leannathespacewerewolf
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jungkookschin · 2 months
Text
demigod trials: icarus falls | three
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synopsis: you met jungkook at camp half-blood when you were 10 years old. since then, your fates have been infinitely intertwined.
word count: 7k
pairing: son of ares!jungkook x daughter of hephaestus!reader
genre: camp half blood au, percy jackson au, demigod au, childhood friends to lovers, exes to lovers , enemies to lovers, jungkook is sooo in love
warnings: multiple mentions of deaths, dangerous quests, QUESTS TO TARTARUS, violence, killing, monsters, ANGST, this chapter is fluffy tho, nct mark as a son of hephaestus, enhypen jungwon as son of ares, broken friendships
demigod trials masterlist
chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter 3.5 | chapter four
With a gulp, Jennie addresses the assembly through the microphone. “Hades, my father, has lost his reign over the Underworld. The primordial god Tartarus has plunged the Underworld into chaos and is plotting to ascend to the surface, aiming to annihilate both demigods and gods.”
Her gaze shifts towards you and Jungkook. "He has somehow taken control of my body, sending me vivid and disturbing dreams. He's furious and demands a sacrifice – a sacrifice of the demigods who once intruded into Tartarus six years ago. If we don't comply, he threatens to rise to Earth through the surface of Camp Jupiter, annihilating Camp Jupiter completely upon his return."
-
Every single eye in the room flickers towards you and Jungkook.
At that moment, incomprehensible dread permeates your system. Like a broken cassette player, memories of your little vacation to Tartarus rewind in your head: drinking from the river of fire, the child eating demon Lamia, Damasen the friendly giant, and so much sheer terror you wouldn’t have survived without Jungkook’s protection.
However, the anxiety, the dread- it’s bearable.
Your window of tolerance has extended to Mount Olympus after narrowly escaping the clutches of death multiple times.
“So what?” Jungkook responds, “You gathered the whole assembly here to announce that you’re sacrificing Y/N and I? A heads up would’ve been nice,” His features are hardened, and the glare he sends Mina and Mingyu, the Praetors of the Roman Legion, is terrifying, resembling his father Ares.
“Jungkook,” Mina seethes, “Do you know how many people live here in Camp Jupiter? There are thousands of children, elderly, and innocent people who live on these grounds. We must publicize the threat and ensure that it is taken care of, for the safety of the camp.”
“And how do you think Camp Half-Blood will feel?” Namjoon intervenes, “You think they’re going to be happy that you sacrificed two of their head counselors? I guarantee you. You don’t want to fuck with us.”
Mina narrows her eyes at Namjoon. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a warning,” Taehyung immediately steps in, rigidly serious aura clouding his eyes, “We’re not letting you touch Y/N or Jungkook. Camp Half-Blood will go to war over this.”
“Okay everyone chill,” Mingyu arbitrates, his booming voice echoing off the walls, “If there’s a way we can resolve this without sacrificing Y/N and Jungkook, we’ll take that way. 1000%. That’s why we’ve gathered: to discuss.”
Eunwoo, son of the Roman god Mars, clears his throat. “My wife is pregnant. We need to do everything we can to negate this threat. Look, I’m not comfortable putting lives on the line so what about evacuation? We can evacuate the entire city and rebuild somewhere else.”
“No,” Jennie cuts in, a tremor running through her body. “He’ll follow us- wherever we go- he’ll ascend to the surface and kill us all.”
Mina tilts her head, “Any other ideas?”
“Oh fuck you,” Rose scoffs, “You’ve lost yourself. Completely. Being Praetor doesn’t mean rejecting all your morals. You called an entire assembly here to announce you were going to kill two of your best friends? You sure Venus is your parent and not Narcissus?” Rose cocks her head to the left, raising her eyebrows in anticipation for Mina’s response.
“You-”
Mina doesn’t get a word in because Jennie’s body falls onto the concrete with a thud. Immediately, her eyes and mouth emit a red glow. The glow rapidly intensifies, transforming into a blazing red glow from her eyes and mouth.
Like a possessed spirit she ascends into the air and to middle of the Senate House. Her mouth begins to move, and Tartarus himself begins speaking through Jennie.
“Demigods, behold," the resounding voice sends shivers down your spine.
"I have at last arisen from my slumber, seizing dominion over the Underworld," an ominous cackle reverberates through the walls. "The offspring of Hades have been severely weakened, now feeble and enfeebled. You are next. Offer the children of Ares and Hephaestus, who dared encroach upon my realm, as sacrifices, and I shall spare your lives, permitting you to become my slaves after I claim dominion over the world. Refuse, and face your demise."
The red glow disappears from Jennie’s face and she plummets back to the ground before Mingyu catches her.
Mina’s features harden. “Jungkook, Y/N! You have the rest of the day to bid goodbye to your families and friends. At midnight, we will personally arrest you to prepare a sacrifice to Tartarus. That is the best we can do for now. Meeting dismissed!” She roars, before marching out the Senate House.
Mingyu shoots you an empathetic look before following Mina’s lead.
Annd to think, you didn’t get one word in before it was decided that you were to be thrown on the altar as a sacrifice.
-
Immediately proceeding the meeting, you take the portal from Camp Jupiter to Camp Half-Blood.
You, Taehyung, Namjoon, Rose, and Jungkook skirt through the sides of strawberry fields, past the pegasi stables, until you reach the cabins. The sun sets beyond the horizon and the sky is arrayed with hues of purple, orange, and pink.
Your fingers are intertwined with Rose’s, and she is seething in disdain over Mina’s behavior. You’re the one who wields fire manipulation, but you’re a little scared she’ll burst into flames.
“Gods, when did she turn into such a bitch?” Rose seethes, squeezing your hand hard enough for your bones to crack.
“Rosie, it’s okay,” you offer, “I died once. Who cares if I die again, right?”
At that, the three men in front of you stop in their tracks, whirling around to blink at you incredulously.
“Y/N, you’re not funny,” Taehyung frowns.
“I’m not trying to be funny,” you deadpan in return, “Isn’t it true? It’s not like I’m going to the Fields of Punishment. I’ll be in Elysium and we’ll eventually reunite there-“
“Okay,” Jungkook intervenes, “Then kill yourself right now.”
“What-“
“If your life doesn’t matter, then kill yourself right now,” Jungkook repeats, unsheathing his Celestial Bronze knife- the very knife you forged when you were ten- before offering it to you.
You remain still, and Jungkook re-sheathes his knife. “Exactly.” His voice is stern, but delicately infused with the right amount of warmth. “Y/N, there are people who love you. There are people who need you here, so don’t take your life so lightly. Okay?” His features soften and he turns back around, “Now let’s head to the Hades cabin.”
Jungkook surges forward and Rosie has to tug you in his direction to get your feet moving.
She side eyes you, verbal communication not necessary when her eyes tell all, full of pure skepticism. You shake your head, following Jungkook’s lead towards the Hades cabin.
Upon arrival, Namjoon knocks on the door to no avail. The Hades cabin has an eerie and somber appearance, constructed completely from dark stone. Skulls adorn the door frame, and an even larger skull embellishes the cabin above the entrance.
After its initial construction, the cabin’s somber presence sent chills down your spine. Now, everyone seems largely unfazed as Namjoon persistently bangs on the entrance, impervious to its eerie aura.
“Okay, fuck it,” Namjoon grumbles before kicking down the door. You and Rosie yelp, flinching at the thud before entering the cabin.
To your surprise, an eerie emptiness greets you — not a single soul is there.
The cabin’s interior directly mirrors its exterior. It’s characterized by dim lighting, dark décor, and symbols associated with the Underworld.
While the Hades cabin is one of the least populated cabins in Camp Half-Blood, it’s unusual for none of the members to be present.
The five of you conduct a thorough investigation of the cabin, flipping over mattresses, looking under shelves- just to realize that there are no traces of anybody ever living in it. It’s like a ghost cabin.
You repeat the process with the 18+ Hades cabin to no avail. Both cabins are completely inhabited.
Taehyung settles on one of the mattresses and rests his head in his hands. “Fuck guys- these are kids we’re talking about- where did they go?”
As far as you know, there are only six kids in the Hades cabin: two in the 18+ cabin and four in the cabin for minors. Jennie and Soobin are the only adults, whereas Hyein, Ni-ki, Danielle, and Ricky inhabit the cabin for minors.
Tartarus said it himself: “The offspring of Hades have been severely weakened, now feeble and enfeebled”
Where could they possibly be? Without a shred of doubt, you know that there must be a quest: a quest to locate the children of Hades. Jennie’s current state- deteriorating weakness that rendered her unable to stand or exist without exasperating herself- was already a bad sign.
It hurts to think about what may have happened to the others.
The five of you exchange ominous looks before breaking to the Big House to discuss the present situation with Chiron.
-
“Chiron,” Taehyung cuts in, “Mina and Mingyu didn’t have any qualms about sacrificing Y/N and Jungkook. I think that’s enough to cut ties.”
You shrug, “I don’t know. Mingyu looked like he kinda felt bad.”
All eyes in the room flicker towards you incredulously. “Y/N. This is serious,” Namjoon scolds. “We lost you once and we’re not about to lose you again. Chiron, we must employ every defense mechanism to keep Y/N and Jungkook safe,” he implores.
“What matters more is finding those kids!” Rose interrupts, “How old is Hyein? She’s like 13. It’s our responsibility as older demigods to look out for them. We have to do whatever we can to find them.”
“Even if that means sacrificing Y/N and Jungkook?” Taehyung questions, “We have to find the sweet spot: saving the kids, preserving Camp Jupiter, and keeping Jungkook and Y/N safe,” he enunciates.
“Which is why we need to employ defense mechanisms,” Namjoon argues, “to at least buy us time so we can figure out where the Hades kids are. Then we can spring into action.”
“But that’ll just lead us to war,” you argue, “For the first time in a millenia, the Greeks and Romans have peaceful relations. We can’t do anything to jeopardize that-”
“Yea, well I care about you more,” Taehyung intercedes, “I care about you more than the Romans and more than the Hades kids, so I choose you. Fuck everybody else,” he shrugs, and you meet eyes with Namjoon, turning red at Taehyung’s words.
Greek heroes were known to have fatal flaws: a fundamental imperfection , vulnerability, or moral weakness that, despite the hero’s strength, ultimately contributed to their tragic fate. Jungkook already confessed to you that his fatal flaw is love.
With Taehyung, you already knew. His fatal flaw is his blind loyalty to his friends. He’d watch the world burn if it meant keeping his friends safe.
“While the chivalry is appreciated,” Chiron adds, “It is imperative to do the right thing, objectively. Ask yourself, is it moral to declare war on the Romans? Is it moral to abandon the children of Hades? Is it moral to sacrifice Y/N and Jungkook? Child of Apollo, what do you think? You are of Roman descent and are able to offer a unique perspective.”
All eyes flicker towards Rose, who accepts the challenge. “We can’t declare war on the Romans,” she argues, “Y/N is right. We all know what happens when Greeks and Romans go to war. People will die and the world will probably go up in flames. But that doesn’t mean we can’t trick the Romans,” a mischievous smile creeps onto her face and she bites her lip.
Jungkook speaks up. “I have a plan.”
You tilt your head at Jungkook. His features are hardened- rigidly serious at the prospect of what could be going on.
His brows are furrowed in angry little Nike swooshes and all you wanna do is run your thumb over his brow to ease its arch.
He turns his head to you, his right hand man, and his features soften, like he’s signaling to you that everything will be okay.
WIth a deep breath, he explains the plan definitively. The way he speaks, the way he commands the attention and obedience of everyone in the room makes it seem like you don’t have a choice but to follow this plan.
At that moment, Jungkook’s little brother Jungwon and your little brother Mark step into the Big House.
Within the past year, Jungwon seems to have skyrocketed in height. He looks so big, for lack of a better word- nearly the same stature and height as Jungkook.
Mark grins at you, his cute features beaming with a sense of readiness- to accept any and every challenge. “Hey sis, welcome back. How was Olympus?”
He envelopes you in a hug, and as happy as you are to see your brother, you can’t help but eye him with a hint of skepticism.
Suddenly you connect the dots and your face falls. “No,” you express grimly.
“Yes,” Jungwon cheekily responds, throwing an arm around you.
The kid is lightyears taller than you now, and you hate it.
What Jungkook proposed- you also hate it. It’s the worst plan in the history of the universe and you want to sew his pretty lips shut so he’ll never speak again.
Jungkook’s plan involves offering a sacrifice to Tartarus- and it won’t be either you or Jungkook.
He professes to sacrifice decoys- and at first you’re on board because you’re confident that you can engineer mechanical versions of yourselves- but when Mark and Jungwon make their entrance, the gears in your brain begin churning.
“Does it make sense for us to send our siblings as sacrifices? We ourselves might as well go to Tartarus. What difference does it make?” you argue, frowning deeply and glaring spathas into Jungkook’s face.
When it comes to you, Jungkook’s mind always automatically masks your anger in a dewy haze. All he sees is a pretty girl pouting at him, and he has to choke a smirk back so you don’t actually stab him with a spatha.
Jungwon smirks, “It makes all the difference. We all know that you and my brother are the best duo Camp Half-Blood’s seen. We need you to figure shit out while Mark and I distract Tartarus.”
Your jaw drops. There was no way the sweet, kind, polite Jungwon just cursed in front of Chiron.
You whip your head towards Mark. “I don’t feel comfortable with that,” you state, “I’m not sacrificing my little brother so I can be free. That’s pure cowardice.”
Mark shakes his head.
“It’s not,” he declares, “I wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice myself like this if I wasn’t capable of being a good distraction.”
With that, he fishes for something in his pocket before pulling out a remote. He presses a bright red button, causing mechanical wings to erect from his backpack as Mark starts flying around the Big House.
“See? I’m a pretty good distraction! And I’ve got plenty of tricks up my sleeve!” he grins.
Jungwon points to a flying Mark before shrugging smugly. “So Y/N, what do you think?”
“Guys, this isn’t a fucking joke,” you scold, turning more rigid by the second. “Tartarus.. it’s a horrifying place. And quite frankly, I don’t think either of you are capable of surviving his domain.”
Mark lands on the ground next to Jungwon, expression now shrouded with concern.
“Y/N,” Mark argues, “We’re prepared,” he claims.
“Since you came back from the dead- like Jesus or something- I’ve been studying your journals on Tartarus, and Y/N, we’re prepared. Jungwon is the strongest warrior of our generation- he and I are a good team. We can do it,” he finishes his declaration with a sweet smile, but you still shake your head.
“Y/N, what did you say to me when you first handed me this sword?” Jungwon asks, partially unsheathing Cataclysm. “You said I was the only demigod from my generation you deemed capable of wielding an enchanted weapon- and didn’t I prove myself? I soul linked with my weapon in days and slaughtered so many giants with this baby,” he animatedly offers, patting the scabbard of his sword.
You soften a bit but still shake your head.
“I just- look- I-” you trail off, rubbing your bicep as you shift your gaze apprehensively, “I strongly believe that Jungkook and I only survived Tartarus for a single reason,” you inhale deeply, momentarily shifting your gaze towards Jungkook who is observing you with furrowed brows. You inhale. “Love.”
“If he didn’t love me or if I didn’t love him, I really don’t think we would have made it,” you elaborate, “I mean- Tartarus sucks the soul out of you.”
You redirect your gaze towards Jungkook, whose jaw is clenched whilst he leans against the ping pong table. “Jungkook… what do you think?”
Your declaration is bold, and you can’t help but think you might be crossing the line- but it’s true. Simply being in Tartarus drains one’s celestial energy, and the only reason you and Jungkook survived was because you desperately wanted the other to live.
“You’re right,” he offers, lifting his gaze from the ground. “But that’s the thing: we were the first to do it and now we can share our knowledge with the next generation- so they can do it without love,” he explains, motioning towards Mark and Jungon.
“You and I, we need to figure things out above Tartarus. And we can only do that with love,” he smiles, and it sparks a flint hope within your system. You soften infinitely at his proclamation.
He looks at you with soft eyes, their warmth mirrored in the tender curve of his lips. In that moment, it feels as if the fates have conspired to weave this moment into their tapestries. The outside seems to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.
“Besides,” Taehyung cuts in, “It’s not like these two don’t have a bromance going on, right?” At that, Jungwon and Mark fist bump each other.
Namjoon intervenes, pushing up his glasses. “Y/N, this plan makes sense. Jungwon and Jungkook emit the same energy. So do you and Mark. We can fool Tartarus with this,” he claims.
“I just- I don’t know I feel comfortable with sending my little brothers down there,” you sigh, rubbing your biceps like you can still feel Cheimarrhus’s frigid winds freezing you to the death..
“Oh? Am I a little brother too?” Jungwon teases, pulling you in for a side hug.
“We’ll be alright, sis. We can handle it. Just worry about figuring out how we’re going to kill another primordial god,” Mark offers, tweaking with the little remote in his hands.
Jungwon and Mark are like sunshine, and suddenly you’re warm.
“Okay.. fine,” you acquiesce “But that doesn’t mean that suddenly you look exactly like me,” you point out, “I mean- Jungkook and Jungwon look kinda similar, but Mina will know that it’s clearly not me,” you state, gesturing towards Mark.
Rose smiles, stepping in. Between her palms, specks of magical energy whirl from her fingertips, emitting a celestial pink glow.
So as it turns out, Rose has developed the ability to alter the Mist.
Mist is a magical veil that conceals the true nature of the world from mortal eyes. It is a form of magical manipulation that alters the perception of regular humans, making them see things differently from what they truly are.
A minotaur wreaking havoc downtown? The mortals will see a wild giraffe on the loose.
That’s the power of the Mist- and sometimes, if the wielder is powerful enough, it can coerce gods and demigods into perceiving illusions rather than reality.
And that’s what exactly Rose does. With a snap of her fingers, Mark and Jungwon turn into identical replications of you and Jungkook, perfectly resembling your features, statures, and movements.
The transformation is uncanny, making it nearly impossible to distinguish Mark and Jungwon from you and Jungkook
“Hi?” Mark giggles (mocking you), twirling a strand of hair around his pointer finger.
You blink at your brother Mark, who looks and sounds exactly like you. It’s like looking in a mirror.
Taehyung shakes his head. “No, you gotta do more of a-“ He pouts his lips into a duck face, theatrically tucking a strand of hair behind his hair.
You smack his arm before you hear Jugkook’s voice.
“That’s fucking crazy,” Jungkook murmurs in awe.
Jungwon and Jungkook stand side by side, and it’s like there’s a pair of identical twins standing together.
“Okay, now practice trying to be them,” Rose muses, and after a brief moment of silence, Mark and Jungwon pull out all the acting cards.
“Oh, Jungkook, kiss me!” Mark mocks in a high pitched voice (which wasn’t necessary because he already adopted your voice), facing Jungwon and jumping on him.
“Oh Y/N!” Jungwon mocks back, making his voice obnoxiously deep and baritone. “I still love you! I’m just too emotionally constipated to express my feelings!”
After pretending to make out with each other, Mark (you) pulls himself from Jungwon (Jungkook). He clears his throat.
“And scene.”
“That was perfect!” Rose squeals, clapping her hands as she jumps up and down in excitement.
Jungkook smiles to himself, shaking his head in disbelief while he rubs his palms over his face- but you certainly don’t miss the way his ears turn red.
You feel the same way, unable to control the crimson spreading through your cheeks.
-
After establishing that Mark and Jungwon would be sacrificed to Tartarus as decoys, you gather everyone at the 18+ Hephaestus cabin for further preparations.
As the cabin doors gracefully slide open, Mark steps inside, greeted by the hum of machinery. The automated system, recognizing him through a full-body scan, seamlessly grants access to the demigod.
The Hephaestus cabin is reminiscent of a palace, where celestial bronze embellishes every architectural detail, providing extra protection against monsters.Each room is the epitome of celestial innovation, featuring amenities catering to yours and Mark’s individual preferences.
The training arena, for example, has a chamber of fire, adjustable at temperatures above 300 degrees.
You sometimes just sit in there and build up your immunity to heat. It’s like your personal sauna.
You and your friends whiz past the lounge/entertainment area, which is equipped with the comfiest red sofa that can morph into a loveseat, lounge chair, or bed.
With a scan of your finger, a 127-inch flat screen TV can unfold from the walls, running entirely on celestial wi-fi.If you or Mark weren’t in the mood to watch TV, the holographic displays can project immersive gaming environments that respond to the player’s movements and actions.
Your robot on wheels, Reginald, whirs past your friends, holding champagne and water on a tray.
Taehyung and Namjoon stare at Reginald in awe, eyes following him as he rolls around and occasionally tidies up the cabin.
“Would you care for a drink?” Reginald asks, to which Jungkook (Jungwon), attempts to grab a glass of champagne.
You swat his hand. “Jungwon! You’re not of age.”
“How’d you know it was me and not Jungkook?” Jungwon questions in return.
You purse your lips, not answering his question. You know Jungkook so well that you can just tell- but some things don’t need to be verbally expressed.
“So when I asked for a pool in my cabin, you bitched about it for weeks-“ Taehyung begins.
Namjoon continues looking around the cabin. “Gods, this is crazy. Leave it to you guys to make your two-person cabin the most luxurious in camp.”
Mark shrugs, “It’s what we deserve after building all your cabins.”
It’s so weird watching Mark talk. He looks and talks exactly like you. A smile graces your lips as you walk past the arcade room, moving on to scan your finger on a fingerprint sensor.
The bookshelf rotates 180 degrees, unveiling an elevator as it completes a full 360-degree turn.
"Come on in, everyone," you invite, pressing the down button on the elevator.
As the elevator descends, the sound of muzak plays through space. Namjoon shoots you a glance that seems to question the necessity of the muzak. You shrug.
The elevator doors part, revealing Bunker 9, a secretive location known only to you and Mark.
Upon entry, dim lighting unveils a colossal workshop adorned with celestial bronze schematics and intricate blueprints. Automated crafting stations hum with activity, surrounded by shelves of rare materials and celestial artifacts.
Holographic displays flicker to life, projecting encrypted messages and strategic maps. The bunker features a secure communication hub, allowing demigods to coordinate covert missions and exchange vital information without detection.
“Welcome to Bunker 9,” Mark muses.
“Gods,” Rose expresses with awe, “Do you guys even need all this space? This place is huge.”
Mark shrugs, “Yea, but here’s where we do all our top secret Hephaestus kid work. We need space.”
From the end of the bunker, a mechanical murmur fills the air.
"Pulchra!" you exclaim joyfully, hurrying over to affectionately nuzzle your forehead against your mechanical dragon. She responds with a comforting purr, clearly missing you during your year on Mount Olympus.
Jungkook joins in, offering the dragon a warm hug as she continues to purr and emit contented mewls. “How’ve you been girl?” Jungkook teases, to which Pulchra mewls affectionately.
Namjoon toys with a gaming controller directly connected to a holographic display of Camp Half-Blood. Mark approaches him from behind.
"This," Mark explains, "controls a simulation for various emergency scenarios. Chimera attacks, minotaur invasions, even war with a god— it replicates the emergency plans we'd need to implement."
As Namjoon maneuvers the controller, the holographic display responds in real-time, projecting dynamic scenarios that demand strategic thinking and swift decision-making. “You guys should have called me down here years ago,” he expresses, “We could have accomplished so much together.”
In the lull that follows, you delve into an industrial cabinet, rummaging for something before retrieving two rings.
Hurrying to join the rest of the crew, you share, "These rings are equipped with sensors— not ordinary ones. They use a new prototype technology Mark and I are working on,” you exchange a somewhat embarrassed glance with Mark before continuing.
“We call it WhisperTech. They'll capture every sound in your vicinity and transmit it to us in text format. The rings use a discreet audio-sensing system that captures and transmits environmental sounds in text form while monitoring physiological indicators such as heart rate and nerve levels. Make sure to keep them on."
You slide the rings onto the fingers of Mark and Jungwon.
“Let’s test it out,” Mark suggests.
On the holographic display in front of you, Mark’s dialogue appears on the screen.
Mark:
Let's try it out.
Biometric Analysis:
Heart Rate: 78 bpm
Mood: Eager
Thoughts: “I’m hungry”
Stress Levels: Low
Location Data:
Current Location: Bunker 9
Longitude: 155.789° E
Latitude: 36.432° N
Environmental Analysis:
Ambient Temperature: 22°C
Oxygen Levels: Normal
Light Intensity: Dim
Activity Insights:
System Status:WhisperSyncRings: Online
Connectivity: Stable
Encryption Level: Secure
Recommendations:
Continue monitoring for real-time data.
Encourage interaction to gauge response.
Await further commands or inquiries.
“Holy Hera,” Jungkook muses, “There’s no way- so this thing can read someone’s mind?”
On cue, the ring catches onto the dialogue and updates in real time
Jungkook: Holy Hera! There's no way—so this thing can read someone's mind!
Mark's Thoughts: I'm hungry
Biometric Analysis:
Heart Rate: 82 bpm
Moods: Intrigued
Thoughts: Curious about the technology
Stress Levels: Moderate
Location Data:
Current Location: Bunker 9
Longitude: 155.789° E
Latitude: 36.432° N
Environmental Analysis:
Ambient Temperature: 22°C
Oxygen Levels: Normal
Light Intensity: Dim
Activity Insights:
Recent Movement: Stationary (within Bunker 9)
System Status:
WhisperSync Rings: Online
Connectivity: Stable
Encryption Level: Secure
Recommendations:
Continue monitoring for real-time data.
Address Mark's hunger to maintain optimal conditions.
Anticipate further inquiries or commands.
Namjoon tilts his head. “I wonder what the location data will read from Tartarus.”
“As long as I’ve programmed it right, it should read Tartarus as the location. I’m not sure about longitude and latitude, though.”
Taehyung reads the screen. “Address Mark’s hunger to maintain optimal conditions- that’s funny,” he laughs, to which you nod.
“See? The rings will be helpful. We’ll know everything that’s going on, and if something happens, we’ll run in after you,” you exclaim.
Jungwon cocks his head, somewhat unsure. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you guys knowing my thoughts all the time.”
“Yea,” Namjoon concurs, “but what if you guys are in a situation where you can’t speak or talk? We need to know what’s going on somehow.”
“Swear we won’t tell anyone all your little secrets,” Taehyung jokes.
Rose places a comforting hand on Jungwon’s shoulder and you nod your head, “I swear we won’t pry into your personal life. I can design an algorithm to immediately delete all your personal thoughts and keep records of thoughts related to the quest,.”
Jungwon seems more assured. “If it’s for the mission, it’s fine. It’s not like I have any explicit thoughts anyway.”
You meet eyes with Jungwon, and you kinda wish that you didn’t because he seems unreasonably paranoid.
“Y/N, make an extra one for me,” Taehyung asserts, “If I ever get married I’m gonna put one on my wife’s finger to make sure she’s not thinking about any other men.”
Namjoon scoffs amusedly at that, “I’ll be praying for her in advance.”
You pout at Taehyung and give him an oh so platonic pat on the back. “You’ll find her soon.”
Taehyung smiles. “Thanks inferno princess,” he teases, using Jungkook’s nickname for you, “Just make sure you take of your inferno prince for me.”
Jungkook lifts his head and wraps an arm around you, giving you a side squeeze. “Yea inferno princess, take care of me.”
-
After bidding goodbye to your friends at the portal to Camp Jupiter, Jungkook suggests that you indulge in something you both rarely have time to do: sleep.
The anxiety of sending Mark and Jungwon as your decoys is killing you, and you can’t help but to pace around Bunker 9 while Jungkook blinks at you from the sofa.
“Y/N, it’ll be okay,” he offers but you shake your head in disbelief.
The dim lighting of the bunker shines eerily above you, and you don’t even realize where you’re going until you walk right into an industrial filing cabinet.
“Ow!” you yelp, to which Jungkook sighs.
He gets up from his seat on the couch and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “Inferno princess, calm down. Everything will be fine. Just look at the screen,” he offers, pointing to the holographic display project Mark and Jungwon’s thoughts.
Taehyung: I’m thinking of going for a swim after they sacrifice you two.
Mark: Gee, thanks. That’s super comforting
Mark’s thoughts: I need to pee
“See?” Jungkook offers, “There’s nothing wrong. The kid needs to take a piss is all.”
You laugh, your shoulders relaxing a bit as you wrap your palms around Jungkook’s wrists. You stand there for a moment, reveling in the safety of Jungkook’s embrace.
Jungkook is your calm before the storm. He’s always there before you go on a potentially life ending quest , comforting you to reassure you that things will be okay.
“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” he whispers into your ear.
“Don’t know. ‘s been a while,” you mutter.
“Think you need to rest first. A nice long ten hours of rest before we do anything else,” he offers.
You hate the prospect of sleeping while your little brothers plummet into Tartarus because of you, but Jungkook’s right. You’re exhausted.
You wiggle out of his embrace and face him, placing your hands on his shoulders. Your eyes glaze over his face before you impulsively ask him a question. His eyes, nose, mouth- there’s a scar on his left cheek acquired during the two years where you were dead. You never had the chance to ask him what happened.
It’s been six years since your fiery dalliance, and the flame of your affections refuses to be extinguished.
You purse your lips.
“Jungkook, what are we?” you ask, features morphing into confusion as your eyes scan over his face.
He looks taken aback at that revelation. His pretty brown eyes widen, coupled with a slight parting of his lips. He doesn’t say anything so you take the chance to elaborate.
“Why are you wrapping your arms around me? Why are you entertaining our friends’ teasing? Are we- are we back again?”
A fleeting pause ensues- like a suspension in time- before he gathers his thoughts to respond.
“Y/N, you know how I feel about you,” is all he says, and his voice wraps around you like a familiar embrace, offering a comfort that no other sound can match. It's so familiar, and the sweetest things he says to you create a flutter of butterflies in your chest.
Warmth spreads through your veins and you suddenly feel like Icarus- the same Icarus who got high on the intoxication of flying and flew too close to the sun, plummeting to his demise when the sun’s rays melted the glue on his feathers.
Jungkook’s kinda like the sun. Last time you flew too close, you literally died.
Luckily, you’re immune to fire.
Jungkook continues, toying with his lip ring. “I’ve been holding back all this time, y’know. But if we’re going to die, do I really have to hold back? I want to be with you, Y/N.”
You face crumbles into disappointment before you actually laugh at the irony. The fates are cruel. “So is that how our stories go? We only get together when facing impending death?”
Jungkook says nothing.
This time, you’ll take the initiative.
Your features morph into desperation. “Jungkook, if we survive this, marry me. If we get rid of Tartarus for good and everything is okay, marry me. I’m sick of pretending that this isn’t real, like I don’t still love you. I want you, and I want you forever.”
Jungkook says nothing, just presses his lips against yours for a sweet and brief kiss- the first kiss you’ve shared since you were 19.
He withdraws, fingers playing with a bolt he had picked up from a nearby shelf. Then, lowering himself to one knee, he presents you with the bolt. “It’s whatever you want, inferno princess. Marry me.”
He slides the bolt on your ring finger before rising, strong arms around your waist before he kisses you again- for the second time in six years. You snake your arms around his neck, letting him take the lead as you literally have not kissed anyone since kissing Jungkook before you died.
In the trenches of your heart, you hate knowing that Jungkook has been with other people besides you. Nonetheless, you like letting him take the lead so you can be his pliant little inferno princess.
He pulls back a bit, his tattooed hand creeping up to smush your cheeks so your lips pout out. He laughs. “Gods, you’re cute. Now let’s get some rest, baby. We have more gods to kill.”
-
Finger intertwined and full of unnecessary giggles, Jungkook leads you to none other than the Hypnos cabin.
Hypnos is the god of sleep, a gentle and soothing presence in the realm of Greek mythology.He holds the unique responsibility of overseeing the tranquil moments when both gods and mortals find respite in the embrace of slumber.
Jungkook raps on the door several times, his fingers securely interlaced with yours as you both patiently wait.
No response.
Jungkook knocks again, and you can faintly hear the sounds of the locks turning before a very sleepy Sana opens the door.
Sana is the daughter of Hypnos and the head counselor of the Hypnos cabin. She rubs at her eyes, eyes barely open.
“Hello? Mommy?”
Jungkook purses his lips. “No Sana, it’s me and Y/N.”
At that, she forces one eye open. “Oh! Jungkook and Y/N! Long time no see! How was Olympus?” Though extremely groggy, she gets her words out before sleepily pulling you in for a hug.
You smile and return the hug. “It was great Sana. Is it okay if Jungkook and I come in to get some sleep?”
At that moment, a sudden surge of energy seems to rejuvenate Sana, and she perks up with newfound vitality. “Oh wow! You guys have never asked me to help you sleep! Come right in!”
You walk into the Hypnos cabin, where you’re greeted by two dozen more Hypnos kids dozing off in their beds.
Cabin #15 is often occupied by demigods with the ability to manipulate dreams and induce sleep. It’s a quiet place with dreamy, soothing colors.
The walls are adorned with calming murals depicting various dreamscapes. The beds are comfortable, and there’s a subtle scent of lavender in the air to enhance relaxation.
Sana leads you to a pair of guest beds before rumbling in a mini fridge for Hyponos’ Sleepy Milk. It’s a unique concoction made by the cabin members to help everyone relax and ease into a peaceful sleep.
She throws you and Jungkook baby bottles of milk. “This will put you right to sleep. I’m so happy you two finally came for a visit!”
“Thanks Sana,” Jungkook smiles, before trailing off, rubbing his bicep, “but could we actually share one larger bed?”
Sana beams at that. “Oh absolutely! There’s the couple’s suite down the hall and to the right. Does that finally mean you two are together?-“ Sana cuts herself off, collapsing onto a nearby bed and drifting into a deep sleep the moment her head hits the pillow.
You and Jungkook look at each other, shrugging before going down the hall and to the right where the couples suite resides.
The couples' suite in the Hypnos cabin has a more intimate setting within the tranquil atmosphere. The color scheme includes soft hues like lavender and indigo, creating a soothing and romantic ambiance.
The bed is larger and adorned with dream-themed decor, such as elegant drapes and dreamcatchers. Subtle lighting in the form of fairy lights and dim lamps add to the dreamy atmosphere.
A large, cozy white comforter adorns the bed, and Jungkook pulls it over, throwing his shirt off and at you.
It hits you in the face.
“Aren’t those jeans tight? Just take off your clothes and wear my shirt. It’ll be more comfortable that way,” he suggests, sliding into the bed.
You owlishly blink at Jungkook.
Gods, there’s no way this man is real and that he chose you.
Jungkook is the epitome of a Greek god. The lines of his eight-pack are so clearly defined, and you instinctively turn away, mentally and physically weak.
And Jungkook- the man has the audacity to laugh. “What, inferno princess? Never seen a shirtless man before?” A teasing lip graces his lips.
Your mood does a complete 180, and your features morph into pure petulance and displeasure.
“Just because you’re used to being naked around women doesn’t mean that I am,” you enunciate, pointing your finger in his face before you whirl around, blazing into the restroom.
“Oh c’mon Y/N, it’s not like that,” you hear Jungkook’s unserious voice reverberate through the wooden door.
You know it’s irrational to suddenly care about Jungkook’s activities after asking him to marry you- but peering into the mirror, you realize that your eyes are glossy.
It's not that Jungkook explicitly shared everything he was up to during your time apart; rather, you only became privy to the truth when Taehyung inadvertently spilled the beans during a drunken night.
His hookups, one night stands, friends with benefits- you’re aware of it all.
That evening, you joined in the laughter, feigning nonchalance. But an overwhelming sense of dread seeped into your system whenever the thought of Jungkook with another woman crossed your mind. It’s nearly unfathomable.
You hurriedly wipe your eyes, undressing yourself before sloppily throwing on Jungkook’s shirt.
You swing the door open to find Jungkook propped up on his elbow, lying on his side, patiently awaiting your return to bed. He raises his brows inquisitively at you. “Jealous, inferno princess?”
He’s such an ass.
You scoff at him, casually settling your left knee on the bed. “Jeon Jungkook, you’re a slut,” you seethe through your teeth.
Jungkook shrugs. “I’ve heard worse, now come lay with me, baby.”
Your features harden, and you stoically grab a pillow before placing it in between you and Jungkook.
Your father Hephaestus crafted an actual net to physically catch his wife Aphrodite and her lover in the act. Of course you’re petty enough to pull the makeshift pillow barrier move.
“Oh c’mon Y/N,” Jungkook scoffs in amusement.
You narrow your eyes at him, sliding under the covers and turning on your side with your back facing Jungkook.
Slyly, Jungkook removes the pillow barrier and closes in on you, enveloping you in his arms. He sighs into your hair.
“Since we were ten, you’ve owned me,” he confesses, “every part of me belongs to you. No other woman will ever compare.”
A heaviness settles in your heart. You and Jungkook have endured so much, suffered through so much. Jungkook has done well.
Sensing your body slightly tremble and hearing a sniffle, he tenderly cups your cheeks and gently cranes your head towards him. “Got it?” he confirms,a smile playing on his lips as he notices the tip of your nose turning pink.
You exhale, and he uses his large palms to force a nod out of you. “Got it,” you respond softly, “It’s just- I haven’t been with anybody but you. I guess it makes me insecure knowing how many women you’ve been with.”
Jungkook’s eyes soften, and his eyes become so clear that you can perceive your reflection in his irises. “That’s my fault, baby. I guess I did anything I could to fill the void,” he explains, “But being here with you, our first time- nothing compares.”
You pout, lifting your gaze towards him. “Do you mean it?”
He places a kiss on your nose. “I’ve been in love with you this entire time. Of course I mean it.”
You soften, fluttering your eyes shut as you revel in the feeling of Jungkook peppering kisses all over your face.
“See how natural it is with us?” he continues, “The gods made you for me.”
You pout, throwing your arm around his torso as he pulls you closer. He lets you rest your head on his bicep, and you look into his eyes.
“Is there anything I can do to make you feel more secure with me, baby?” he offers with a kiss to your eyelid.
To Jungkook, it’s like your mind has gone blank, observing the contemplative pause as you search for an answer to his question.
“Hmmm… maybe just tell me you love me from time to time?” you suggest, to which Jungkook bursts into laughter at how adorable he thinks you are.
“Alright, I’ll do that,” he instantly agrees, entertaining your suggestions.
“What’s funny?” you ask, to which Jungkook dismisses it with a nonchalant wave.
He raises the arm that you're resting on, causing your head to gently nestle into the crook of his armpit. “Drink up,” he offers, placing the baby bottle of Hypnos Milk to your lips.
Pliantly, you sip on the bottle and seconds later, you’re out like a light.
-
That night, you don’t have any unusual dreams, granting you the best fourteen hours of sleep you've ever experienced. When you wake up, a sense of rejuvenation washes over you, but a quick scan of the room reveals that your man is not beside you. Your eyes rapidly dart around the room in search of his presence.
At that moment, Jungkook walks out of the restroom with a toothbrush in his mouth.
His eyes glaze over you, admiring how you look in his shirt, still beautiful with boogers in your eyes. He casually saunters over to you, extending a hand with an invitation card gracefully held between his fingers.
You are invited to our 2000th year anniversary party in Mount Olympus!
A +H
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author’s note: aphrodite and hephaestus are a and h
ALSO TJE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE A DRABBLE FOR EITHER jungwon x reader or mark x reader,
and the fourth chapter will be a son of poseidon!taehyung x reader 😌😌 jk and y/n’s story will resume in chapter five when they go to aphrodite and hephaestus’s anniversary party
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livwritesstuff · 3 months
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uh so i was feeling like writing something angsty and ever since i wrote this a little bit ago i can’t stop thinking about the idea of what the upside down coming back decades later would look like, however it’s a bummer and not the vibe i want for my steddie!dads verse so consider this an au for an au or whatever idk
It’s a normal, average, mundane, regular Wednesday when Dustin calls.
They don’t talk as much as they used to, but that’s adult life, Steve supposes. 
They both have entire lives now, spouses and children and jobs that consume pretty much every waking hour. The near-1000 miles that separates Steve and Eddie in Massachusetts from Dustin in Indiana doesn’t help things either, and seeing as how Dustin had long-since inherited the Hawkins Lab research from Owens when he retired back in the mid-2000s, that won’t be changing any time soon.
Steve is home when Dustin calls, and between counseling clients, so when the phone rings and lights up with his name, Steve picks it up with a grin.
“Hey man, what’s goin’ on!”
Nothing but silence comes through Dustin’s end for a while – such a long time that Steve checks to make sure that the call didn’t drop or his phone didn’t die or something (and neither had happened, so it’s definitely a Dustin thing).
“Dustin?” he asks, “You there?”
Silence, still.
Then –
“Steve.”
Dustin sounds…not normal, and Steve feels the grin slide off his face.
“What?”
“Steve,” he chokes, “It’s…it’s back.”
Steve feels his heart stop for a second, feels it like all the blood in his veins came to an abrupt halt for just a moment.
“The Upside Down,” Dustin continues, “It…all of…it’s back.”
He sounds like he’s underwater, or maybe Steve’s the one sinking beneath the surface, just like he’d done forty years ago when he’d taken Dustin’s place on that boat and got dragged into hell through the depths of Lover’s Lake.
Steve hangs up the phone, his hands shaking.
His knees feel shaky too, like they can’t support his weight anymore despite doing so for nearly sixty years.
They’ve been giving him problems lately – his knees. Nothing too crazy; he can still go on his runs and putter around the yard and all that. It’s just a part of aging, he supposes, and he hadn’t minded aging before – liked it, even. Liked his greying hair and the crow’s feet around his eyes and his achy knees, because there’d been a period of time many years ago when he wasn’t sure he’d make it long enough to experience that inevitability of life.
Right this second though, he hates it, hates the way it makes him realize he’s not as nimble as he used to be, the way his reaction time isn’t the same anymore, because he knows that’s what had gotten him through those horrible years back in the mid-eighties.
He lowers himself down, and as his ass hits the tile floor of the bathroom – his daughters’ bathroom, the one they’ve shared practically their whole lives, the one Moe lost her first tooth in, the one Robbie pierced her own ears in, the one Hazel will be getting ready for prom in soon – Dustin calls him again.Steve doesn’t pick up, too busy kicking himself for not considering sooner the possibility of this sooner, for not having a plan ready to execute to keep their daughters safe the way no adult had done for him.
He can feel an old instinct – the urge to gather his loved ones close – starting to kick in, his mind starting to race as he catalogs the people who make up his small corner of the world. 
Hazel is easy – she’s at the high school just down the road. He can have her back home, back within arm’s reach, in a matter of minutes.
Robin and Nancy are next closest, still living in Boston after all these years. Steve would wager a guess that they’ll be hearing from Dustin soon if they haven’t already, and then they’ll probably head Steve and Eddie’s way, and then they’ll all regroup. 
They’ll figure out what their next moves are.
Moe and Robbie are trickier with both of them living in New York City and likely unwilling to leave their school and their jobs and their friends without any warning whatsoever. Moe is getting more and more reasonable the older she gets, so Steve may have to start with her and hope that Robbie follows.
Moe is twenty-two now. 
Moe is older than both of her dads had been when Eddie had nearly died, when Steve had carried him out of hell and made sure he didn’t. All three of their daughters – even seventeen-year-old Hazel – are older than Steve had been when he got sucked into that horrible mess, and they’re still so damn young. 
With two decades of parenting under his belt, he finds it kind of unbelievable that anybody had looked at his sixteen-year-old face and seen anything but a child, nevermind actually asked him to do the things that he’d done.
Dustin calls him two more times before he gives up. Only a moment later, Steve hears Eddie’s phone ring downstairs, and then he hears Eddie’s jovial tone as he answers the call. 
He goes quiet real quick after that.
Just as Steve is deciding who to call first – Hazel’s school or Moe – his phone vibrates, two quick buzzes that can only indicate a text from Robin.
He opens it.
did dustin call you?
Steve lets out a heavy breath because, fuck, it’s real.
Yeah, he texts back, then adds –
This fucking sucks
40 years
As Steve watches the bubbles of Robin’s incoming response, he can vaguely hear Eddie’s ascent of the stairs, still on the phone with Dustin. 
The bubbles disappear.
“Fuck you, Dustin,” he hears Eddie snarl, “This is on you.” There’s silence for a while, and Eddie seems to pause in the hallway just in front of their bedroom door. Then, “Yeah, I’ll talk to him…I know…later, man. Love you. Be safe.”
Steve looks down at his phone to see that Robin is still typing, only for the bubbles to disappear again a second later.
Finally –
nance is going back
i’m going with her
Steve could throw up.
He almost does, he’s pretty sure, although he’s not positive because he might be having an out of body experience, or maybe he’s dissociating, or maybe it’s a fucking PTSD flashback or something. He doesn’t know.
He should know, or so his handful of psych degrees would suggest, and he probably would know if it was happening to someone else, but then again, he’s always worn blinders when it comes to himself.
That was true about him when all this shit started in 1983, and it’s still true now, almost forty years later.
Forty fucking years.
He doesn’t look up when Eddie comes into the bathroom, joining him on the floor with his back against the bathtub.
“Dustin took offense to you hanging up on him,” he says, and Steve can hear the way he’s forcing humor into his tone.
As if any of this shit is funny.
“Erica and the kids left with Claudia,” Eddie continues, answering a question Steve probably would’ve gotten around to asking Dustin himself if it weren’t for the whole hanging up on him thing, “Erica went kicking and screaming, obviously. I offered up our house, but they’re still deciding where they want to camp out. And everyone has agreed not to say a word to Jim and Joyce.”
Yeah, that makes sense, seeing as they’re both in their eighties and perpetually acting like they’re thirty years younger – at a minimum.
Not that Steve would know anything about that.
Definitely not.
“He said he’s one-hundred percent positive that it’s all still contained to Hawkins, so…” Eddie pauses, “We don’t have to, like, track down the girls or anything. Just make sure they don’t go anywhere near Indiana.”
And that, at least, is an actual relief.
“Robin’s going back,” Steve tells him, because there’s no point waiting to address that particular issue in this whole fucking mess.
The so I’m going too is implied, because that has never needed to be said when it came to Steve and Robin.
The way Eddie’s face changes evades Steve’s ability to describe. It makes him regret saying anything – that’s for fucking sure. Makes him wish he’d just snuck away in the dead of night.
“C’mon man, we’ve picked up a whole fuckin’ litter over the years,” Eddie says, and he’s still forcing humor into his tone, “You can’t leave me to fend off the masses alone – the years have made me weak-willed, I’ll surrender immediately.”
Steve manages a snort, but he still looks down at the floor all the same.
Eddie doesn’t say anything else for a while, but his hand wraps around Steve’s ankle as if there was enough brute strength in the one appendage to keep him rooted to the bathroom floor.
(Strangely enough, it feels like there might be).
“Steve,” Eddie finally says, his voice stiff and hard in a way Steve doesn’t think he’s ever heard before, “We are way too old for this shit – Robin and Nance too.”
Eddie pauses.
“Steve,” he says again, “I know how important Robin is. I know, but our children would be fucking devastated if anything happened to you. Don’t think they wouldn’t – and something would most certainly happen to you.”
“Eddie.” 
He’s still avoiding his husband’s eyes.
“Steve,” he pleads, something desperate in his voice, “We talked about this. Remember? Last spring, when we watched that stupid zombie show with Hazel? And there was the episode with the old gay guys? We talked about this. You told me not to let you go if this shit came back.”
Steve makes no response. Ed lets out a heavy breath, looking to the ceiling.
They have this conversation every now and then – one of those conversations that always teeters on the edge of an argument – in which Eddie insists that Steve could be fine if their relationship ended in a way that Eddie himself would not. It’s a conversation that Steve hates, because he hates the idea that Eddie – his husband of twenty years and the love of his whole entire life – could still be thinking so low of himself, that there’s any part of him that doesn’t think Steve would be fucking wrecked by losing him.
Still, it had always been a hypothetical. It had never been real.
Suddenly, Steve feels claustrophobic sitting on the floor of his daughters’ bathroom. He gets to his feet and, as he heads for the door, Eddie scrambles up after him.
Halfway down the hall, Eddie lunges for him and catches his arm, wheeling him back around to face him.
“Steve,” Eddie says one more time. 
Then, because he apparently has no words ready to follow with, he stops.
“Steve,” Eddie starts again, “Please. You’re everything. I love the girls and I love our life, but Christ, Steve, you’re my entire world. You changed everything for me. You showed me how life could be worth living, and you keep showing me, and I’m not ready to let go of you yet – not even fucking close. Please don’t let this be the way we leave each other.”
Steve finally lets himself look at Eddie’s face, the face he’d fallen in love with decades ago, the face he’s still in love with decades later. He looks at his big eyes and the hint of grey at his hairline and his crows feet and the scarring that creeps up his neck from underneath the collar of his shirt (it’s a shirt he’s had for ages – since before even Moe was born by the looks of it, but so is the rest of his half of their closet).
And he finds himself nodding.
Eddie’s exhale is all desperate relief as he tugs Steve into his arms and wraps them around his shoulders. Steve immediately reciprocates the hug, pulling him in even closer, surprised to feel tears pin-pricking his eyes
“I love you so much, Steve,” Eddie tells him, gripping the back of his t-shirt so tight he feels the collar pulling taut against his throat, “I don’t say that to you enough.”
“You say it all the time,” Steve replies with a wet laugh.
“Not enough,” he shakes his head, and Steve decides there’s no point in arguing.
A minute goes by.
“Fuck,” Steve half-laughs, half-chokes as he lifts his head to meet Eddie’s eyes, “This fucking sucks.”
“I know,” he says. 
Again, he reels Steve in, and again, Steve lets him, holding onto his husband like a lifeline, like they’re standing somewhere far more perilous than the carpeted floor of their upstairs hallway.
“I know,” Eddie repeats, “And we’ll…we’ll talk about it but for now, just – can I just hold you for a bit, okay?”
Steve nods again.
“Okay.”
read the extended version on AO3 (i.e. feat. added “flashbacks” so it fits the formatting of the rest of the series)
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agi-ppangx · 9 months
Text
💭childhood friends to lovers (100 followers special)
chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin
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“some things never change, huh?” you heard jeongin’s voice coming from the porch. you looked up to see him approaching you, the sun beginning to set in the background. 
jeongin and you were inseparable for as long as you could remember. he lived across the street and you always spent time together thanks to your parents being really good friends. you played almost every day, hanging out in your backyard or in his house, never getting tired of each other. as children, you knew all your secrets and fears, you trusted each other with your lives and swore you were never going to grow apart. 
but time verified your friendship and you failed to maintain such a tight bond. you didn’t have any arguments, you just simply started to drift apart in high school. jeongin started to spend less and less time with you, too caught up with his new friends. you tried to fight for your friendship, you believed that not everything was lost, but every time you wanted to talk to him, he would brush you off and leave without a word. and even though you weren’t as close as before anymore, one day you noticed you were staring a bit too much at jeongin, admiring him from afar. he always seemed so happy with his group of friends, hanging out with them every day after school and attending parties with them. and even if you tried to be happy for him you couldn’t stop the jealousy spreading through your body. because you were supposed to do these things with him, you were supposed to stay friends. maybe even more than friends, you thought to yourself one day. but then you completely parted ways, going to college and having absolutely no clue what was going on with each other.
until now. your parents decided to invite jeongin's family for dinner, since they haven't properly talked with his parents in years. with that, they thought that it would be a great idea for you and jeongin to reconnect and spend some time together, just like you used to as kids.
"you still use the same swing," jeongin continued, sitting next to you on the swing set. you looked at him, kind of confused and he clarified. "you always used the one on the left. you claimed it can go higher." you scoffed at his words. “because it does go higher,” you giggled and so did jeongin. then the silence settled between you two and you just sat there, trying to gather thoughts and actually start a proper conversation. you wanted to ask him so many things - what do you major in at college? are you dating anyone? why did you move away from me without a word? 
“how have you been lately?” it was jeongin who broke the silence first, not looking at you. his voice was faint, almost unsure, as if he was afraid. you thought about your response for a moment and then spoke softly, “i’m fine, just kind of tired of everything.” jeongin nodded, as if he was trying to say me too. “i missed you,” he then whispered and it made you finally look up at him. the air between you got thicker, your heart was racing and you didn’t know if you were mad at him or relieved that he missed you just as you missed him. “then why didn’t you call me? or message me? you could’ve done anything, i don’t understand why you didn’t,” you said eventually, too tired to even try to lie and tell him “oh i missed you too, we should totally forget about all those years we didn’t spend together and catch up”. you needed some kind of explanation. jeongin sighed loudly at your words. “i- i don’t know… i guess i was afraid?” he responded, though it sounded more like a question rather than a statement. “afraid of what?” you asked, trying to get him speaking. he started this whole i missed you conversation and now he needed to tell you everything if he wanted to restore your relationship.
jeongin was silent, he didn’t respond to your question and you started to grow impatient. “i know that… when people grow up they tend to part their ways, it’s normal and it happened to us. what i didn’t like is that you suddenly started treating me like air when i tried to talk to you and now you come back and say you missed me,” you hissed through clenched teeth and got up from the swing. “well, guess what, i missed you too, but i actually made an effort to save this friendship while you decided to completely ignore me,” you continued and felt jeongin’s fingers wrap around your wrist. “yn, i-” “i just think it’s unfair, because you come here from nowhere, saying you missed me, when it’s me who sent you birthday wishes every year, it's me who left all those christmas gifts for you in your parents’ house and it’s me who offered meeting up a few times and all those times you ignored me, you never responded, you never said a stupid thank you, you just left me and the worst thing is that i still like you and i still want to be with you and-” you stopped, suddenly aware that you may have confessed a bit too much. you felt your cheeks grow warmer and the tears started to wail in your eyes. you desperately tried to blink them away, not wanting jeongin to see you crying, but he already got up and stood right in front of you. he wiped the single tear from your face that managed to fall down and hugged you tightly. you wanted to escape his embrace at first, but then you simply gave up and let yourself cry into his chest. you wanted to remember this moment, in case you ruined everything and your friendship was lost. 
“i’m really sorry,” jeongin whispered into your hair. “i was acting like an asshole, i- i was so scared to admit that you’re more than a friend to me that i decided to push you away. and i know it's a shitty explanation and i understand if you don’t forgive me, but i’m genuinely sorry for my behaviour,” he continued, his voice unstable. you pulled away a bit to look him in the eyes. more than a friend? “you did act like an asshole, i must admit,” you started slowly, wiping your eyes. “and it hurt me, it still hurts, but… i wanna give you a chance, because i like you a bit too much and- and i’m just tired of this whole situation,” you mumbled and hugged him again to hide your rosy cheeks. jeongin started gently stroking your head, rocking you side to side. “i’ve never purposefully meant to hurt you but i know i have and i want you to know i’ll do anything to atone for my actions.” you giggled at his serious tone and pulled away once again. “anything?” you asked him, your gaze wandered between his eyes and his lips. “anything.” “then kiss me,” you whispered, leaning closer and closer to him with every passing second. “with pleasure,” he responded and captured your lips in a soft kiss. not everything was said and you both knew you were in for a serious conversation, but in that moment your heart was finally full after so many years of longing and you thought that it was more than enough for then. 
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feedback and reblogs highly appreciated🫶🏽
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starogeorgina · 10 months
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Twin flames
Warning: Swearing, age gap, asshole Aemond
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen × Targaryen oc
1.02
You watched as your uncle took in the appearance of your bedchamber, his lilac eyes scanning the room your mother deemed unworthy of a princess. Furniture was plain; curtains were faded; and books filled with stories of tragic lovers were scattered everywhere. He was most likely underwhelmed; most people were. Aegon often compared your bedchamber to the servants. Aemond had no such remark since he had never entered your bedchambers since childhood.
“If I knew in advance, uncle, you’d be helping me sneak back into the keep, I would have tried to spruce the room up slightly for you,” you say jokingly.
Daemon's facial expression remains hard to read until something catches his attention. Frowning, he walks towards the table in the center of the room and picks up the different pieces of fabric. “What happened to your dresses?”
You’re taken aback by the tone of his voice; unlike your mother or grandsire, there wasn’t a hint of judgment or disapproval; Daemon sounded genuinely concerned about why so many outfits had large tares in them. His eyes had a fierce glow to them while he awaited your answer. You cleared your throat. “My mother won’t allow me to repurpose my dresses unless they are ruined. After wearing a dress a few times, I tend to accidentally rip it.”
“Hmm,” he says, tossing the fabric back down, “and what exactly do you do with them?”
“Myself and one of the seamstresses turn them into bedding or clothing to give to the poor.” Sighing, you start to fold the pieces of fabric into squares, placing them neatly onto the table. Keep your head low to hide the embarrassment; you probably sounded spoiled. “I know it isn’t much, but it should be criminal how much material is used for just one of my dresses when there are homeless people freezing during the nights and children running around naked in the streets of Flea Bottom.”
“Yes, the gods can be cruel.”
Your eyes narrow, and Daemon’s mocking tone irritates you until you spot a ghost of a smirk pulling on his lips. He was teasing you. “Perhaps one day the gods will be kind enough to help those who need them most.”
Daemon silently stares at you for a few moments, observing each of your actions as if something exciting could happen at any moment. His gaze slowly moves to the floor for a few seconds, as if he’s lost in thought. Daemon moves to another small table and sits beside it. He sniffs the remaining wine that you had brought earlier in the night and then takes a gulp of it, saying, “So tell me, what Dragon is it you ride?”
“Tyvaros.”
He tilts his head back, an amused look on his face. “Tyvaros is High Valyrian for serpent, is it not?”
“You know it is”, you sit down across from him and smile, “with scales as dark as coal and glowing green eyes. My dragon is basically a smaller version of the Cannibal, my black beauty.”
“I can’t imagine the same girl who gives her clothing to the less fortunate riding a dragon so ferocious.”
You lean across the table, reaching for the cup he just drank out of, and take a sip yourself. “You don’t know me well enough to make such assumptions.”
Grinning, he takes the cup from your hand and refills it before handing it back to you. He chuckles and says, “Dear niece, I think you are right; not to worry, we can always amend that. Now tell me, how often do you sneak out at night?”
Having little appetite, you pick at the food on your plate, washing what little you do eat down with wine. The room is silent aside from the sounds of scraping forks and knives until your mother says to you, “I haven’t seen that ring before; where did you get it from?”
You glance down at the delicate ring. It was a gold band with a red circular stone, one of the many gifts your uncle had given you over the past few moons. Daemon gave you books he thought you would enjoy, black and red dresses he assured you were made out of the cheapest fabric, and he even got a black collar decorated with emerald stones for your dragon. A gift your mother and grandsire were most pleased with, they assumed you had chosen the collar paying token to the Hightower family symbol, when in reality it was from a man whom they both despised. Neither of them made the connection between the green and matching Tyvaros eyes. Daemon had told you the ring was sentimental but never explained how so; you just knew he wore a matching one.
“It was a gift from a friend.”
The table is mostly quiet again. Aegon leers over and scrunches his nose up. “It’s hideous.”
“Good thing it’s not you who’s wearing it then, brother,” you say before dipping bread into the stew that was just placed in front of you.
You remain focused on your meal until you feel your hair being brushed behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Aemond stares at you intensely; his eye seems darker than usual as his fingers brush over a thin braid that had been hidden beneath the top layer of your hair.
Aemond seemed mad, but perhaps you were just imagining it.
Nights prior, during the hour of the owl, you had snuck out to meet with your uncle, and you sat in the gardens listening to tales of his daughters, who were currently staying with their grandmother, the queen who never was, Rhaenys Targaryen. It was clear he missed his daughters deeply, along with their mother, Lady Laena. As he spoke, Daemon played with your hair, braiding it as you drew a detailed picture of Caraxes flying in the night sky. Nothing inappropriate had happened between you and your uncle, but the thoughts you had of kissing him made it feel sinful, so you pretended your relationship with Daemon didn’t exist to others.
Aemond quickly pulled his hand away before returning to his meal, and all conversation ceased to exist once again.
You walk to your bedchamber with a smile on your face. You had spent the remainder of the afternoon with your sister Helaena, riding your dragons alongside one another. It isn’t until you are inside and begin to remove your riding gear that you notice a presence in your room. “Aemond!” You gasp, hand clasping on your chest, “What are you doing here?”
“Why not? I am your husband after all.”
The coldness in his tone causes you to tighten your grip on your recently removed jacket. You were wrong for ignoring the tingling of dread earlier when he spotted your braid. You clear your throat. “It is unlike you to come visit me; I’m surprised.”
“I regret not doing it sooner, wife.”
The word wife drips like venom from his tongue, and when you finally look at him again, you notice he’s holding your drawings. He scoffs before scrunching them up in his hands. “Tyvaros, Tessarion, Dreamfyre, Sunfyre, Syrax, Meleys, Seasmoke... hmm, you’ve drawn these dragons but not Vhagar.”
“I’ve not drawn the wild dragons either. I intend to draw them all eventually.”
“You’ve drawn that deformed-looking beast before mine!” He snaps, tossing a scrunched-up piece of paper with a drawing of Caraxes at your face, “Vhagar is my dragon, your husband's dragon!”
Tears well up in your eyes as his voice becomes louder and full of rage. You glance at the door. You could scream for the knight guarding your door, but realistically, he wouldn’t do anything to help you. Although you were a princess, he was a prince, and the knights would always defend the son of a king over a king's daughter. As frightened as you were, you would be damned if you let him know that, “If your intention was to frighten me, then you have failed.”
Aemond suddenly storms towards you; gripping your jaw tightly, he says, “Not to fear me is stupid. Foolish girl, not only are you sneaking around with our cunt of an uncle, but you now insult me even further by favoring him and his dragon over my own.”
“It was never meant as an insult; we all know Vhagar is a gift from the gods.”
He rolls his eyes at your weak attempt at softening him up. He glares at you and says, “You’ve made a fool of me.”
“Nothing has ever happened between me and Daemon. I enjoy his company; he cares what I have to say.”
You shake as Aemond lets go of your jaw and pulls his dagger from his belt. Tears roll down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for pain to come, but it never does. Feeling something tickle the tip of your nose, you open your eyes again to see your silver braid dangling like a prize that has been won in front of you. He lets out a dark chuckle, dropping it to the ground. “You’ve never let anyone braid your hair since we were children, not even your handmaidens.”
Your fear turns to anger. How dare he treat you in such a manner? When he is the one who created the toxic dynamic between you. You never wanted to marry Aemond, but you were prepared to perform your duty as a wife and princess, but he refused you each time. deprived you of not only children but also basic respect. “Tell me, brother, do you not feel guilt each time you look at me?” You pull up the sleeve of your dress, revealing your scared arm. “Every time I see this or a reflection of the one on my face, I curse the gods, then beg for their forgiveness for my lack of faith in them, and do you want to know why? It wasn’t them that did this to me.”
“It was an accident!”
“No,” you snort out with a laugh. “No, it wasn’t, not really. Deep down, you wanted to hurt me; you wanted to punish me for not wanting to help you seek revenge against our nephew.”
“Lucerys owes me a debt.”
“Does that mean you owe me one? Lucerys was just a boy defending his brother; you, on the other hand, are a brother who hurt his sister.” You shake your head at him and say, “When you saw the scar on my face, did you not think it was justice?”
Aemond knocks on the chamber door for the knight to open it, ignoring your question. He looks back at you and says, “You will no longer spend time with our uncle.”
Snorting out a laugh, you struggle to compose yourself. A smile spreads across your face. “Or what? You’ll have me locked away? You dishonor me each time you lay with your whores, and not once have I complained. I am not your property and will do as I please.”
“We’ll see.”
609 notes · View notes
117luv · 10 months
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THE PARENT TRAP — LHS | CHAPTER 7
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synopsis: jungwon and ni-ki met each other at a summer camp and found out they were fraternal twins. this leads to events where the two ex-lovers, heeseung and yn, are reunited after 14 years by their children.
genre: exes to lovers, smau, fluff
pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader
warnings: cursing, poor attempts in humor, grammatical errors, marriage, pregnancy, parenthood, miscommunication
taglist: CLOSED!
a/n: hi my loves! starting next week, ill be more consistent w/ the updates since school is FINALLY over so more time and also im sorry if it took so long to release this chap but besides that i hope you enjoy this and love ya !!
masterlist | previous | next
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The boys have many questions for their parents. Such as why they are apart, how come they both don't mention they had a twin who belongs to another parent, or how their parents could have just worked it out so all of this mess wouldn't have happened in the first place. But they know their parents don't like this arrangement, and it shows how much the two of them profusely apologize to them for all of this mess. Yn and Heeseung know that this arrangement shouldn't have existed if they weren't stupid years ago, but all they can do is make up to the twins for their mistake and loss of time. Jungwon spoke up first and asked "Mom, I know you and dad had a rough past hence why this arrangement even existed in the first place but were you even planning to tell me that I had a twin all along if I didn't met Ni-ki at camp?" and she replied "I been thinking to tell you about him and your dad but I didn't know what will I do if you asked about their whereabouts when I don't even have your dad's contact number, let alone their address. Despite all that, I was ready to tell you but I just kept pushing it to avoid confrontation. This also had to do with me and your dad arrangement, is where we will claim one twin and never talk nor find each other whereabouts hence you never knew about your twin." Her answer cleared up a question he had been dreading to ask her after all the events unfold. Yn asked the boys why the two of them weren't shocked to learn about them being twins, and they explained to them that the reason why they weren't surprised was because they had already put the pieces together back at camp, from them being allergic to peanuts to them having the other half of a picture of their parents from years ago. As the four of them kept talking until the boys were visibly tired, she asked them to get ready for bed. It was getting late, and Ni-ki asked Heeseung if he could just stay overnight, which you both agreed to and helped him get settled in Jungwon''s room. Once the twins were settled down, he quietly got out of the house as she assisted him to his car. He called for her name and rolled down his windows. "Did you forget something inside? I can get it for you, she said as he looked at her. "No, my things are all here. Just come closer to me, he said, which she did, and he quickly pecked her forehead and rolled his windows up as he quickly left her place. Leaving her speechless in what just happened moments ago and Heeseung blushing as he drove back home as he remembered what he did. As this all unfolded, the twins were witnessing it from their window and thought of a plan to make their parents get back together.
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taglist [CLOSED] : @yangwaa @emikisses @yohanabanana @arizejkt19 @skuwu-blog @beatr2x @svarcq @softiehee @enhastolemyheart @deobitifull @emxshu @bucketofhiros @lost-leopard-beanie @soobin-my-beloved @azurez @flwrshee @beomgyusonlywife @lalalalawon @yanagisprettygf @astrae4 @myjaeyunn @sesame-street-lol @yumilovesloona @jhopesucker @omgjwon @yoonjunshi @wannatinyus @yeahhemmings- @coupscheri @useraerin @neozon3nha @mevalemadrws @wonyoungsvirus @ilvsoup @dneltrise @chirokookie @noascats @sxftiell @onionzzzs @nokacchan @i-yeseo @02zluvbot @iamliacamila @nicholasluvbot @ilovewonyo @ddazed-lhs @tobiosbbyghorl @youmenotyummy @minhoie @enhaz1
452 notes · View notes
yandere-loveer · 3 months
Text
⋎﹒🃏﹒✾,Yandere shadow milk cookie scenario
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✶﹒┊Warnings: Obsession, kidnapping, forced companionship, yandere, rape, kisses without consent, mental and physical abuse towards reader, shadow milk a little OOC, reader!fem.
✶﹒┊Summary: Shadow Milk Cookie met you when he was not corrupted by the power given to him by his creators. The jester cookie that you wanted so much changed a lot and here comes hell...
✶﹒┊If you are a sensitive person, I recommend not reading this or if you have a bad experience with some of the topics mentioned above, I also recommend not reading this for your mental health! ♡
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﹒𓇼﹒﹒Shadow Milk Cookie with her friends were created with the sole purpose of taking care of their world and the other defenseless cookies.
﹒𓇼 ﹒﹒The jester appreciated cookies and always put on shows for everyone, so they could feel safe. His personality was calm and he maintained a joking side to the cookies he swore to protect with his friends.
﹒𓇼 ﹒﹒You met him there when you were a simple town girl, I simply made you curious that so many cookies spoke of the happiness and confidence that the jester called shadow milk cookie brought.
﹒𓇼 ﹒﹒You couldn't deny that you were delighted with what he did and he could make a lot of cookies happy, especially that you loved that he also did small shows for children. He always brought a smile to everyone and you too...
﹒𓇼 ﹒﹒ You caught his attention and you didn't know how, but it was the best. All the time that you were luckily able to talk to him, you could only praise and thank him for his efforts to keep everyone well. Which he couldn't help but feel very excited about.
﹒𓇼 ﹒﹒ Aww... Now always when he did shows he brought you so you could shine on stage along with him for everyone. In those small moments they both felt like they were the only ones who existed and no one else.
﹒𓇼 ﹒﹒ He visited you a lot in your humble house and he surprised you by entering your window, you were always surprised by his unexpected views, but he embarrassed you with your way of living. He never cared about that. You loved the moments you spent with him and even shadow milk expressed to his friends how great it was to spend time with you.
"Reader cookie, she's wonderful. I just hope I can do shows with her forever..." He was so lost in his thoughts about you that his friends just laughed and some rolled their eyes at it.
﹒𓇼 ﹒﹒ But all good things can end without realizing it, the only thing you could say was that you had noticed Shadow Milk very strange and sometimes he had a smile that scared everyone. One that was very sinister and dark...
﹒𓇼 ﹒﹒ You noticed that everything he said sometimes were pure lies and created conflicts between the cookies, which scared them all and they never smiled because of the anguish they felt at that time.
﹒𓇼﹒﹒The way he clung to you was very sticky and suffocating, he made very possessive comments and how he was going to keep you with him always.
"I'm going to keep you in a cage so you don't leave, HA HA HA! I'm kidding... or maybe not" he could only whisper the last thing, but you could hear it. You just turned a blind eye to it, he always told the truth and made you feel safe. But why isn't it like that now...?
﹒𓇼﹒﹒Before you could realize everything was chaos, many cookies were dying due to the cruel actions of the heroes who were now beasts... Now you were in a cage next to shadow milk cookie who said romantic things to you. way and you wore almost their shades of clothing to match. They were a real couple, cheer up!
﹒𓇼 ﹒﹒ The witches, with nothing else to do, put an end to the evil actions of their creations. You felt like you were going to be free until you saw how your lover grabbed your little legs so you could stay with him...
"Y-You can't leave me!" He sounded desperate as he watched him being locked up along with his friends who were upset by what was happening.
﹒𓇼 ﹒﹒ You saw how you were locked up along with shadow milk cookie and the witches couldn't do anything about the cruel fate you were facing. Living next to a beast. He was really happy that at least he was able to take you and stay with you.
﹒𓇼 ﹒﹒ You were just asking for help from any cookie or creator, anyone! But no one could hear you, only your loved one who looked confused at your reaction to the confinement. You closed your eyes and felt tears coming out, but your eyes widened when you felt Shadow Milk Cookie's disgusting hands that were behind you. It seems like it would take forever to force you to do things you didn't want to do. During that time, only your cries and prayers were heard...
﹒𓇼 ﹒﹒ At that moment you were now with shadow milk sitting on the dark floor that surrounded them in that dark prison. He was hugging you from behind and you alone couldn't even make the effort to think or react to what had happened before. You couldn't hear what shadow milk was saying, everything was blurry, you were in a state of shock. You could only squeeze one of your hands that was close to your private area, at that moment you felt dirty and the sinister smile of that beast was getting bigger...
229 notes · View notes
greensagephase · 4 months
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Blanca Navidad (Nonviolent Communication Christmas One-Shot)
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x SpiderFemaleReader (colleagues to friends to lovers; currently in the friendship era, so no romance.) Summary: Christmas Eve at Miguel's. Word Count: 11,928 (someone come take my laptop from my hands) Warnings: Mention of injuries and near death experience (from the past). Some Spanish included but translations can be found at the end. Lots of Mexican/Latin food mentioned; you can find some of those items in this reference guide. Short A/N: This is a one-shot for my Nonviolent Communication fanfic but can be read as a standalone. Masterlist Songs inspo: "Last Christmas" - Wham! "Blanca Navidad" - Matisse, Ha*Ash "Noche de Paz" - Reik
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! 🎄
You repeatedly offered to host dinner at your place. It was only fair, you thought, especially after Miguel hosted Thanksgiving at his place but he refused. Each time. The only thing he asked of you was some dessert because apparently he really loves your baking, so that’s what you arrive with to his penthouse on Christmas Eve. It’s 7pm when you step out of the multidimensional portal and into Miguel’s living room. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been here now; how many times you’ve stepped into the space and hung out on his couches and talked with him over café de olla and pan dulce about anything and everything.
You glance at the fireplace as you hold on to your bag with baked desserts. Miguel’s penthouse is warm and cozy, a sharp contrast with the cold and freezing temperatures outside. You take a quick glance behind you to look out the windows. It’s supposed to snow at some point during the night and of course, the children and some adults were all excited about a white Christmas, or at least they seem so this morning when you did your morning patrol across your city. Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear steps, Miguel’s, coming from what you assume is the kitchen and dining area of his penthouse. You turn back and there he is. Once again, he’s wearing his apron since he’s cooking. He looks cozy and comfortable in a grey cable knit sweater, with the sleeves folded neatly up his forearms, and his dark pants. You notice his hair looks damp, which for some reason reminds you of the times you helped him showered so many months ago due to his injuries during a mission. Your free hand curls into a soft fist as you recall how his hair felt. You smile at him as he enters the living room.
“Hey, Merry Christmas Eve!” you greet him softly.
“Merry Christmas Eve,” he repeats with a soft smile as he approaches you. “Here, let me get that for you.”
You don’t decline or refuse his help, even though you don’t need it, when he motions for the bag with baked desserts. You’re learning to accept that Miguel is a gentleman no matter what, so you lift your bag for him to take.
“The food is ready, so we can go ahead and have dinner if you want,” he says with a soft grin, motioning for you to follow him into the kitchen, carrying your bag.
The scent of food engulfs you as you enter the kitchen behind Miguel, making you excited about the food. As you follow Miguel, you notice his Christmas tree is still up. You noticed it earlier this month when you came over for dinner on a Saturday. The sight was a nice surprise that day and even now, as it gives you hope that Miguel feels the holiday spirit this year.
Miguel sets your bag on the counter, careful to avoid messing anything up before he takes a glance at you. He noticed as soon as he saw you wearing a coat, reminding him that you were in Miles’s universe earlier. Mr. and Mrs. Morales invited the whole gang, including Miguel, to their annual Christmas Eve building party but much like last year, Miguel politely declined the invitation. Many things have happened over the year, the most important being Miguel starting his healing journey. He’s taken steps in the right direction, perhaps small ones, but they’re all significant to Miguel. Yet, when he was approached by Miles once again about the Christmas Eve party, he still couldn’t say yes to the invitation.
He’s tried more with the group over the last months but it’s still something he needs to work on. Besides, Miguel could already imagine the questioning of some guests. It would be too much for him. However, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t open to this. To dinner with you for Christmas Eve. He asked you a week later after Thanksgiving about your plans, wanting to plan better than he did for that dinner, especially because he knew you were likely invited to Miles’s building Christmas Eve party again. So, he asked you and you happily agreed to having dinner together. Except when you started talking about what you could cook, Miguel told you he was hosting and he shot down all your attempts, only asking for dessert, if you wanted. You wanted to make it even since he cooked for Thanksgiving but Miguel didn’t want you to stress out about cooking, considering you were invited to Miles’s universe. He didn’t want you to stress out over it or end up missing the party to cook, and besides, Miguel loves cooking and sharing food from his background with you. So, it was better this way for him. Miguel gestures to your coat now, a sign that you were at Miles’s universe a little while ago, if not minutes ago, out in the cold.
“May I?” he asks.
You look at yourself and realize. “Oh, my coat.” You smile at him and nod before he walks around you and helps you out of it. You thank him as he hangs your coat over a chair gently. “Oh, the Morales wish you a Merry Christmas and they sent food.”
Miguel nods, smiling softly as he watches you begin to unpack your bag. You set out the plates the Morales’s prepared, reminding you of last year when they sent you to drop off food for Miguel because they didn’t want him to spend Christmas Eve on his own.
“The fried plantains are to die for,” you tell him as you set down what you baked.
“I can imagine. Last year’s were great,” Miguel says quietly, remembering last Christmas Eve and feeling in awe that a whole year has passed already. Everything was so different then, he thinks. Last year, you were only supposed to drop the food off but you ended up staying until midnight. This year, however, you left the party early to join him for dinner. This year it was planned for you to come. Miguel smiles to himself. So much has changed. He clears his throat softly. “I will certainly eat some of that in a bit, especially the fried plantains. Do you want to have dinner now?” he asks. “Or, maybe you ate at the party and you’re not too hungry yet.”
“I’d love to have dinner. I didn’t eat much so I could save some space for dinner. I’m not missing out on anything,” you say with a soft chuckle that makes Miguel grin since he knows you like his cooking, something that pleases him a lot.
“Great, then we can start. I made some tinga since I know you love it,” he says as he gets into full host mode. “Go ahead and take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” Miguel walks around his kitchen island to the stove where he has multiple pots and pans of food, and possibly drinks like last year. “We can have it with burritos or with tostadas, whichever you like. There’s also…” Miguel continues, listing everything he has cooked, once again surprising you with his wide menu.
You listen intently, with a smile, as Miguel tells you about the pozole.
“I couldn’t decide, so I made a bit of both red and green. I think last year I made green, so hopefully you like the red one.”
You tell him you’re sure you will, considering everything he cooks is amazing. He goes on to tell you about the tamales and how he made different ones this year, too.
“There’s some with rajas de chile poblano and queso fresco. These are really good. And then, there’s the sweet ones. These were my favorite growing up,” Miguel tells you as he shows you small, pink tamales with dark spots here and there that indicate small bits from cinnamon sticks to sweeten the dough.
“Those would go very well with café de olla,” you tell him, which makes him grin.
“I thought you’d think so,” he replies before he taps a pot’s lid. “Café de olla right here.”
You grin back.
“Then, there’s some ponche and I made champurrado. I think - you might like it,” he says.
“If possible, I’m trying everything,” you tell him with a soft smile, which makes Miguel smile back.
“Well, no pressure but please feel welcome to. I hope you like it,” he says turning fully around to face you. “I forgot, there’s also buñuelos. So… what would you like to have first?” he asks, having a feeling that he knows what you’re going to go first for.
You stare at Miguel, knowing exactly what you’d like to eat first. “Maybe it’s surprising or not too surprising, but may I please have some burritos de tinga?”
Miguel chuckles. “Ya lo sabia. I had a feeling that was going to be your choice.”
You shrug with a little smile. “You tell me there’s burritos de tinga, I’m gonna go for that. It’s your fault I love them so much.”
Miguel shakes his head at you, amused. He grabs the flour tortillas from one of his counters and sets a pan to heat them up. “I’m glad you like them so much,” he says, truly meaning it. He’s cooked this dish for you a few times over the months ever since the two of you started to have dinner together every Saturday when it’s his turn to host. You tried it last Christmas Eve after he asked if you wanted to join him for dinner right on the spot when you dropped off the food the Morales family sent him. Come to think of it, Miguel realizes that was the very first time he ever invited you for dinner.
He had no plans to cook or to even be home. He had the opportunity to spend one Christmas with Gabriella and it was the first time he had celebrated in years after Gabriel’s death. After everything that happened with Gabriella and her universe and the events surrounding Miles, the last thing Miguel wanted to do was celebrate. He thought he’d spend the day at HQ like any other day, even if the building was vacant since everyone was off for the holidays. He tries to remember now, what was it that made him leave HQ and gave him the motivation to cook a bit of everything? He reasons now that it was probably nostalgia from those childhood days.
The holidays were always decent in the O’Hara household since those were rare days when his parents weren’t arguing or acting up. Those were also days in which Conchata treated him like a mother should. She spoiled Gabriel and him with sweet food like Mexican hot chocolate, buñuelos, and sweet tamales; even letting them add the food coloring to make the tamales colorful. Perhaps, it was those memories that made Miguel leave HQ last year. Either way, he hadn’t expected to be home. He had no decorations up, nor expected anyone but then there was Lyla, popping out of nowhere as he was finishing showering, while the last of the food was cooking, to tell him that you were looking for him because you had food from the Morales family. Before he knew it, he was inviting you to join him for dinner and you did, and Miguel enjoyed it.
“Do you want agua de Jamaica?” he asks, pausing his thoughts for now.
“Yes, I’d love some. I can get that for us, while you look after the tortillas,” you offer, standing up even though Miguel shakes his head. “I know you’re the host but you don’t have to do everything. You already cooked - I imagine for hours. Please, it’s the least I can do,” you tell him and he begrudgingly nods.
“Alright, if you wish to,” he says, which makes you smile as you reach for glasses from his cupboards since you know your way around his kitchen all too well, much like he knows his way around yours. You notice his pouting as he flips the tortillas, with bare hands as always, and hold back from chuckling. You walk to his fridge to retrieve the pitcher with agua de Jamaica, finding it endearing that Miguel insists on doing everything when he hosts. He tries to help even on the weekends when it’s your turn, always offering his help one way or another, and of course, you always decline but that doesn’t stop him from offering his help anyway.
You set the glasses and pitcher on the counter and walk towards him, standing a few feet away to give him space.
“May I help with something else?”
He shakes his head, meeting your gaze. “You’re my guest, Y/N. Please go ahead and take a seat. I’ll have your burritos ready in a minute or two.”
Your shoulders slump dramatically. “Really?”
Miguel’s eyebrow raises gently. “Really.”
You hum in response and walk away, defeated. With a sigh, you take a seat and now you pout but it’s quickly replaced with a grin when Lyla appears before you.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Y/N!” she says throwing her arms in the air in a cheery tone, making her santa hat move around dramatically.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Lyla.”
“I see you’ve been prohibited from the kitchen.”
You chuckle softly.
“I heard that, Lyla,” Miguel says, looking over his shoulder with a glare that Lyla dismisses.
“Merry Christmas Eve to you, too, boss,” she retorts with a roll of her eyes. “How about some music? Something for the Christmas spirit? I prepared a playlist just for this.”
“Oh, really? You have the classics, I assume,” you tell her.
“Definitely. Some are Miguel’s favorites. Or used to. I don’t know. It has some of my favorites for sure.”
“Like…?” you ask.
“You know…” Lyla shrugs. “Like ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham!”
“Oh, a classic,” you reply with a smile, approving.
“I knew you’d understand me. Let’s put it on,” she says and of course, the music immediately fills the air thanks to Miguel’s amazing sound system.
You nod in appreciation. “Nice choice, Lyla.”
“Thank you! It feels good to be appreciated for my music taste. Some people don’t like it.”
“That’s because you blast it at full volume with no warning,” Miguel replies grumpily, as he reaches the counter with two plates with food.
Lyla shrugs again. “It doesn’t sound too loud to me.”
“The burritos are ready, Y/N. Let me get the toppings,” Miguel says, deciding to ignore Lyla.
“Thank you,” you reply softly as he places the plate in front of you.
“Always,” he answers as he serves agua de Jamaica for the two of you.
“Ooh, should we see Miguel’s official holiday card? I look good in it,” Lyla says immediately displaying the holiday card every Spider Society member received before either you or Miguel can even respond.
Miguel groans quietly as he takes a seat. “Lyla, put that away.”
“I’m just showing Y/N. Look at my outfit. I look good in the card,” she replies with a grin.
You chuckle quietly as you stare at it, remembering Miguel’s mood since you were there. He didn’t want his picture to be taken but Jess, Peter B., and Lyla said he had to as he’s the leader and founder of the Spider Society. Despite Miguel’s protests, Peter B. and Mayday somehow managed to slip on a santa hat to his head, catching Miguel by surprise. He glared at Peter B., who was next to Jess in a flash, urging her to take the photo before Miguel took it off, and of course, Jess was quick to snap a photo. Now, everyone has a holiday card with Miguel glaring at the camera in his full suit with a santa hat while Lyla floats above his head, happy as can be.
“And there’s this one, too. Come to think of it, we should’ve used this one,” Lyla says, displaying a photo of Miguel, still wearing the santa hat but showing his face now, and you standing nearby showing him your progress on the society’s weekly reports. You notice the difference on Miguel. His glare from the official holiday card is replaced with a relaxed face and a small smile directed at you.
Miguel stares at it, noticing the difference, too, which makes his cheeks feel slightly hot, or maybe it’s just the heat from the food and the stove, he doesn’t know.
“Aww, I’ll let you two have dinner now, Merry Christmas Eve!” Lyla says with a smirk before she disappears, leaving Miguel and you alone with the Christmas music still playing in the background.
You grin softly and shake your head. “She really does get in a mood with the holidays,” you say as you add toppings to your plate.
“She does. She’s already too much sometimes and with the holidays…” Miguel scoffs in disbelief yet also in a playful way. “Even more but anyway - how was the party?” he asks softly as you pass him the toppings.
“It was great. There was more of Miles’s family this year, so we had to keep introducing ourselves to them. I think some of them thought it was weird Miles invited his school mentor,” you say with a grin. “That’s me.”
Miguel chuckles. “You’re the school mentor - I can see that.”
You raise an eyebrow, smiling and thinking. “Who would you be?”
Miguel turns to you, thinking. “I don’t know.”
“Hm… we’ll have to think about that,” you reply before you take a drink of agua de Jamaica.
Miguel grins, thinking that if he had gone to the party, he would’ve simply said that he was the school mentor’s close friend but saying that would mean stating out loud that you’re his friend. Despite the months, and the healing Miguel has done this year, his fear that something will happen to you still exists inside of him. He doesn’t want to jinx losing you - his close friend - by saying it out loud, directly. He’s alluded to it so many times in different ways to tell you how he feels. You’re his close friend. Yet, he hasn’t said those words specifically. Not yet anyway, but Miguel is certain one day, he will. Could it be next year? Or the following one? Miguel doesn’t know but he knows he will one day. For now, he says and acts on it however he can, whenever he can, in his own way.
“This is - as always - amazing,” you say with a soft sigh after having the first bite of a burrito. “I can never tire of this.”
Miguel smiles, amused yet happy with your reaction. He doesn’t know why, but it always pleases him to see how much you enjoy his cooking. He loves seeing that delighted look on your face when you eat what he cooks.
The two of you move through the other food, trying all the tamales, minus the sweet ones because you decided to save those for the dessert part. Miguel is once again, pleased when he sees you love the tamales with rajas and queso fresco. Pozole is last, and of course, you try the other kind he made.
“Which one is your favorite?” you ask him. “Red or green?”
Miguel thinks about it for a few seconds as he gently wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I think - green. What about yours?”
“I think green is my favorite, too.”
You grin at each other before you continue eating from your bowls. All the while, the two of you talk about the last few days and how everyone at HQ was excited for the holidays. Even members with few or no family, like yourself and Miguel, had plans with other members. The two of you talk about that, and how wonderful it is that the Spider Society has led to friendships so deep they feel like family. The two of you leave it at that, not wanting to dampen the mood with sadness of loved ones long gone though both of you think about your deceased loved ones anyway.
At last, Miguel brings a plate stacked with sweet, pink tamales. He sets it on the counter so the two of you can just grab from it instead of having to walk back and forth. He also brings along a plate with buñuelos, and of course, there’s the desserts you brought along, too.
“You want ponche, champurrado, or café de olla?” Miguel asks.
“I think - I’m going to leave the café de olla for last, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. So, ponche or champurrado… Or both?” he asks, a little amused. Noting your indecisiveness, Miguel adds, “I’m grabbing both.”
You grin. “Both for me, too, then. May I help you?”
“No,” Miguel says softly, shaking his head at you before he turns around to prep everything. “Thank you but no. You’re my guest.”
You sigh, knowing there’s no arguing. “Just let me know if I can help. I don’t mind, Miguel.”
“I know you don’t,” he replies softly with a smile as he grabs the mugs. “But please - let me do this.” He turns around, holding two mugs in each hand perfectly. He doesn’t need to say anything else for you know what he’s saying. He’s trying to move forward. He’s trying to show you his appreciation and caring for you. He’s trying to express what you mean to him in his own ways, even if it’s just him merely serving you food or a drink and taking it to you. He’s trying in his own way until he can say it out loud.
You nod and smile softly.
Satisfied with your reaction, Miguel turns around and proceeds to serve the drinks. You grin as upbeat holiday music continues to play. It seems that Lyla’s playlist is quite long and diverse since you recognize Mexican Christmas music. You listen intently to it, while Miguel fixes the drinks until he approaches the kitchen island with your two mugs. He places them carefully in front of you before he retrieves his, joining your side once again. You can’t help but think about how the two of you have sat in these same chairs ever since… exactly a year ago, almost as if you have unassigned assigned seats. You smile as you come to this realization, finding it endearing in a way but also realizing just how much has changed in a year.
One year ago, you were in Miles’s universe when Mr. and Mrs. Morales approached you, asking if you could take food to Miguel and stay with him while he ate so he wouldn’t be alone on Christmas Eve. You agreed because the Morales family has taken you in as part of their family, inviting you over to dinner and their gatherings but also because you had thought about the same thing. You didn’t like the idea of Miguel alone over the holidays even though your friendship was barely beginning. You had shared some moments with each other at that point like your celebration of Peter’s birthday and Miguel letting you see his ofrenda on Dia de Los Muertos. Miguel was barely beginning to open up and you knew it was too soon to ask him anything about the holidays but then, there were Miles’s parents, asking you for this favor. And you couldn’t say no.
You look over at Miguel as he brings one of the mugs to his mouth, blowing softly on it to cool off. You smile and grab one of your own, opting for the ponche first as you continue to remember last year. You were so nervous about it even though you agreed to it and wished that Miguel hadn’t spent the entire day alone. You guessed he was going to be at HQ like always, since you knew that he worked around the clock but to your surprise, he was here at home. You almost chuckle to yourself as you now remember standing in a dark and empty alleyway in Miles’s universe talking to Lyla, asking her about Miguel’s location to meet and give him the food. It was how you learned he was here. You remember Lyla giving you a hard time back then when you asked her if she could ask Miguel to meet you at HQ since he was home. You didn’t know where he lived back then and besides, you didn’t want to intrude on Miguel’s privacy nor make Miguel feel like you wanted to know where he lived but Lyla, who for some reason was busy at the time, told you she’d ask if you could simply come over, telling you that she’d give you the coordinates if Miguel agreed.
Then, you swear it took less than thirty seconds before the coordinates were on your gizmo, ready for you to travel directly to Miguel’s home, and that’s how you first entered his home a year ago, with plates of food in your hands, and party favors and cans of soda in your coat’s pockets, feeling cold from being outside to suddenly surrounded by warmth from Miguel’s penthouse. And of course, there was Miguel suddenly, standing in his universe’s fashion instead of the suit like he used to back then. It was the first time you ever saw him out of the suit. Now, the sight of him in normal attire is a familiar one. A lot has really changed since that night a year ago.
You turn to Miguel’s holographic Christmas tree, smiling. Last year he didn't have one when you arrived but he showed it to you afterward and told you all about them and how people in Nueva York design holographic ornaments as a tradition, though traditional trees are still a thing in some homes when they can be afforded. Miguel even showed you how to design ornaments before he had you design one.
“You want to look at it?” Miguel asks, noticing your gaze on it.
You turn to meet his gaze, still smiling and nod. “Sure.”
He nods with a soft grin and stands up, thinking to himself about how he actually put his tree up earlier this month. Last year he had no plans nor did he feel the festivities to put up his tree until Christmas Eve when you got here.
The two of you walk over to it, holding your mugs in hand before you stop in front of it.
You admire the tree, still in awe even a year later with the difference. In your universe, traditional Christmas trees are still the norm. Smiling, your eyes catch certain ornaments you didn’t see the previous year. You tell yourself you probably just missed them but you’re certain you would’ve remember seeing the ornaments with Conchata and Gabriel’s names along with the year they were designed on them. You silently conclude you wouldn’t have missed them, considering they would’ve caught your attention. Your eyes stop on one of Gabriel’s. You smile warmly at it, seeing the year it was made, 2084.
“Gabriel,” you say softly, tenderly, as if you knew him, though you never did nor will.
Miguel turns to look at you, smiling softly as he detects that tenderness in your voice while saying his younger brother’s name. It makes him feel warm and appreciation towards you even more, while also making him wish once again that you could’ve met Gabriel. He’s thought about it in the past a lot. He believes that Gabriel and you would’ve been good friends, too. He turns to look at the ornament, taking a drink from his mug. He wishes you could’ve met not only Gabriel but also Gabriella because he knows she would’ve loved you just like Gabriel.
Miguel consoles himself with the fact that you’ve at least met them in his dreams as he often sees them there. After what happened with Gabriella’s universe, Miguel’s dreams were plagued by nightmares, leading him to avoid sleep and only sleeping when his body was at the verge of exhaustion for months. He still has nightmares sometimes but his dreams are far more pleasant these days thanks to you. Ever since the spring after his near death experience, when he discovered that your scent and the sound of your breathing while you sleep help him, he has been sleeping better and with less nightmares.
Now, he dreams of Gabriella and Gabriel often. Conchata and his late wife sometimes make appearances, though not as often as the first two. Not as often as you now. You started showing up in his dreams two months after his near death experience and ever since then, you’ve become a regular. It’s how he consoles himself when he wishes you could’ve met two of the most important people in his life, Gabriella and Gabriel. You engage with them in his dreams and they both love you, which only fuels his belief that they would’ve loved you in life, too.
Miguel smiles softly as he thinks of them. There’s some heartache, and he knows there will always be. However, for the first time in years, Miguel doesn’t feel overwhelmed by his heartache like he used to. He doesn’t feel like that because he’s not alone. He looks over at you, noticing the awe in your eyes as you continue to take in the Christmas tree and how your eyes linger on something specific.
You’ve been admiring the ornaments, silently reading the different years of the ornaments and even finding some of Miguel’s from previous years when your eyes land on one specific ornament.
Yours.
You stare at it. You weren’t expecting to see it and if you were honest, you thought Miguel had probably erased your file or simply omitted it from the final copy last year but no, it’s on the tree. You wonder if he simply missed it and that’s why it’s on here as a simple mistake. You look around it, your eyes also finding the one Miguel made last year when he was showing you how the design program worked. It’s next to yours much like it was last year. You stare at the two ornaments until a screen, a tablet, meets your vision. You blink.
“Want to give it another go?” Miguel asks with a soft grin, offering you a tablet.
You smile and accept it, recognizing the ornament design program from last year. You look over at him, finding him smiling softly as he holds his mug and another tablet. You silently wonder where he retrieved the two tablets from since he hasn’t left your side. You glance at the dining table, questioning if they were there all along and whether Miguel planned for this.
“Sure, why not? I think I can do better this year,” you reply, still smiling.
“You did pretty great last year,” Miguel says reassuringly before he gestures to the dining table.
The two of you sit down, next to each other. The mugs are placed on the table before the designing of ornaments begins. The two of you design your ornaments, falling into a comforting and peaceful silence though soft Christmas music still plays in the background. It’s not until five or so minutes that the silence is disrupted.
“Aww, you’re designing ornaments! How cute,” Lyla says appearing between the two of you and taking a glance at each tablet. “No offense Miguel but Y/N is doing so much better than you.”
“Thanks, Lyla,” Miguel replies, not even looking up at her as he continues to design.
You smile and decide not to say anything.
“I’m just saying, it looks like Y/N has had more years of experience doing this than you. And this is your universe…” Lyla says.
“You’re so encouraging,” Miguel answers.
Lyla shrugs. “I try my best.”
You shake your head at Lyla and continue to work on your ornaments for a few more minutes until the two of you are done. You show each other your screens and smile as you see that you’ve both stuck to Miguel's Christmas tree theme colors and added the current year in Nueva York.
“You added more detail,” Miguel notes as he looks at yours, feeling happy that you even added the year underneath your name just like he did. “Are you ready to upload it?”
You nod and so, Miguel uploads both his and your ornament, saving it to the program. You both get up to add the ornaments through the tablet to see where the program places them since it’s supposedly done randomly, making it a bit of a fun game.
Miguel uploads his first, showing up somewhere around the top before you add yours. You both search for it and find it at last, placed just below his new one.
“That was fun. Thank you, Miguel,” you gently say, breaking the silence.
“It's no traditional tree but…” he says, looking at the ornaments.
“It's wonderful,” you finish with a smile, looking at the tree yourself.
Your response tears Miguel's gaze from the ornaments to you, his red eyes taking you in. He silently gives thanks for you, something he has found himself doing more as the months have gone by. He's quick to remember now the gifts he got you but a part of him is still going back and forth on it. What if you don't like them? Or worse, what if you find it odd that he’s giving you gifts? He turns his gaze away from you to look behind the Christmas tree. He placed the gift bag there earlier behind the tree, where he knows it’s not visible, just in case he brings himself to do it at some point during the night. He sighs softly, reassuring himself he still has time, and besides, he also has tomorrow to give it to you since he plans on inviting you for the recalentado.
The two of you stand there for a little while longer, admiring the Christmas tree, silently thinking about how much has changed in a year, and deciding that you wouldn’t change anything about it.
After a little while later, Miguel checks the time.
“The Christmas show will start soon,” he quietly says.
You turn, remembering. You thought about it earlier this month but it seemed to have escaped your mind today as it’s been a busy day. You visited your parents, Aunt May, and Peter’s graves earlier this morning to change their flowers since it’s Sunday. Then, there was your morning patrol because even on the holidays, you like to check up on your city, just in case. And of course, there was the party at Miles’s universe where you and your friends did a gift exchange just like the previous year.
“How long till it starts?” you ask.
“About fifteen minutes,” Miguel replies with a smile. “Plenty of time to drink the champurrado.”
You grin and nod, turning to walk back to the kitchen island. You take one last glance at the tree, your eyes finding your ornaments. You briefly think about how there’s now two ornaments with your name on them on Miguel’s tree. The sight spreads a warmth through your chest for you never imagined this. You turn away and follow Miguel to the kitchen island for the other drink.
He offers the buñuelos and more sweet tamales, which you happily accept. You eat and talk in the privacy of Miguel’s home with a holographic countdown in display, counting down the minutes until the holographic Christmas show starts.
“It’s supposed to snow again,” Miguel says as he turns his body sideways on the chair, facing you completely now.
“We’re supposed to get snow, too. All the kids and some adults were excited about it this morning when I was on morning patrol,” you say with a chuckle that makes Miguel grin.
You turn slightly, facing Miguel more with your body but still making sure to give Miguel space. Over the last few months you’ve brushed hands, arms, and legs here and there. It has been accidental, as you’re always trying to make sure to respect Miguel’s boundaries regarding physical contact. Ever since losing Gabriella in his arms, Miguel finds physical touch hard but you’ve noticed the way he has slowly opened up to it. It’s not much compared to how open you are to it with your friends like a hug or a pat on the shoulder. Miguel is not there yet but you’ve noticed the brushing of his fingers against yours when you hand him items has become more intentional than accidental on his end over the last few months, which makes you happy that he’s starting to feel more comfortable with it.
Then, there’s been the slight squeeze of his pinky around yours. It’s happened three times so far, and it’s been on times when the two of you have shared something personal. The first time Miguel did it was after he shared with you his childhood and Spider-Man origins. The second time was on Peter’s birthday this year when you invited Miguel again for your small celebration in his honor. There were a few tears on your end, for you couldn’t help but feel sentimental. You guess Miguel did it to comfort you in a small way, not realizing that his presence alone was more than comforting to you. The third and last time was over a month ago on Dia de Los Muertos, when he invited you to see his ofrenda for the second time.
Except this year, he invited you earlier in the evening while he cooked all his loved ones’ food and prepared the decorations, even inviting you to help him cut the colorful tissue paper into the beautiful and intricate designs to adorn his offering. He even made extra this year of everything so the two of you could eat and by midnight when the ofrenda was completed and lit up by flickering candles that cast shadows over the marigolds, you could tell Miguel was sentimental as his eyes scanned the four photos. His mother, his wife, Gabriel, and Gabriella.
You thought he was sad, naturally, but he was sentimental because he was recalling a dream - or was it a vision - Miguel still goes back and forth on this. It was the dream he had while he passed away for a few minutes back in the spring. He saw his wife, Gabriel, Gabriella, and even his counterpart, who gave him closure on his guilt for stepping up as Gabriella’s father after his passing. He thought about the dream that night on Dia de Los Muertos, as the two of you knelt in front of his ofrenda for the second time, and remembered Gabriella’s sweet words, thanking Miguel for all her favorite food and the toys he offered the previous year. He also remembered his loved ones’ assurances that they were always with him. He grew sentimental that night, wondering if they were there at that moment, with him and you.
You wanted to comfort him like so many times before but you knew and continue to know that Miguel is still not fully ready for such physical touch. He noticed it, like so many other times, and decided to let you in his own, small way; by squeezing your pinky with his own when he handed you a mug with café de olla. That was the third, and you’re certain it will be, the last time of this year.
It’s small but you’re very happy for Miguel. You’re immensely thankful that he has allowed you into his life and that he trusts you. You smile at him as you continue to face him.
“I can imagine the excitement. You can’t beat una blanca navidad,” he says turning to the windows, wondering if he’ll still be awake by the time it’s supposed to start snowing.
“That’s true,” you reply as you turn to the windows yourself.
“Three minutes,” Miguel says looking at the countdown. “Should we save the café de olla for after the show?”
“If you want to,” you reply softly, looking at your current mug. “I still have a little champurrado left.”
Miguel nods. “Me, too. Café de olla for after then.”
You grin at him before you stand up, fixing your top and feeling excitement. Last year you got to watch the Christmas show and it was amazing as it was all holographic and playing in front of Miguel’s building. You recall the Santa Claus even waved at you as he rode past in his sleigh.
Miguel and you head to the windows, mugs in hand. You lean sideways on the window just like he does, facing each other as you await. At last, the Christmas holographic show begins with a large and bright yellow star.
“It’s starting,” you whisper softly, eyes wide in fascination.
Miguel’s eyes flicker to you subtly, gently smiling at your reaction before he returns his gaze to the show.
The star begins to spin, rapidly, sending sparks flying through the air. The star spins so fast, it begins to look more like a yellow portal. Suddenly, holographic reindeer gallop out into the night sky before Santa’s sleigh and Santa himself fly out of the portal, pulled by the reindeer. He waves his arm around before pulling holographic gifts from his sack of gifts to show them off, even pointing at the windows and gesturing to the gifts as if saying “this is for you.”
You grin softly, loving every second of this but then it gets better because snowmen step, or rather glide out of the still spinning star/portal, waving hello before they start a dance performance that sends holographic snowflakes flying through the sky. You chuckle softly as the snowmen continue to dance while Santa and his reindeer fly above them. Miguel chuckles quietly as well, enjoying the show and briefly recalling previous years when he would stand next to little Gabriel to watch the show together when they were just kids. Gabriel’s favorite part was always when Santa made his appearance.
“¡Miguel, mira, mira! It’s Santa!” Gabriel would exclaim excitedly each year, waving his small hand through the glass window, hoping to catch the holographic Santa’s attention.
Miguel would nod, smiling and feeling the excitement himself but he showed it in a more reserved way, which always led Gabriel to grab Miguel’s top from the hem.
“Miguel, wave to Santa! He’ll notice the two of us! Miguel!” Gabriel used to say, pouting.
“Okay, okay,” Miguel would reply before waving, unable to refuse his brother’s demands.
Miguel sighs softly at the memories of his little brother now. He always thought he’d be the first to pass away, being the oldest, but life had other plans for Gabriel. Still, Miguel silently hopes that Gabriel gets to watch the show from wherever he is.
His thoughts fade away as a new thing happens, catching both his and your attention. A neon red string comes out of the yellow spinning star and attaches to Santa’s sleigh. Your eyebrow raises as the color is familiar and sure enough, it is. Spider-Man 2099, as a hologram, swings out of the portal and pulls himself onto Santa’s sleigh at the back. You gasp softly in both surprise and delight, turning to look at Miguel briefly to see his reaction. He looks just as surprised. Your eyes return to him, or his hologram version, as he begins to wave towards the windows, wearing a santa hat.
The two of you, and the rest of Nueva York, watch the interaction between Santa and Spider-Man 2099 as the man in all red offers the other one a plate with cookies. The superhero accepts one and nods back at Santa in gratitude before they begin to fly around, closer to the windows now. You’re smiling the entire time, finding it endearing that the city included Miguel this year in the holographic Christmas show.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” Miguel says next to you with a grin.
You look up at him, smiling. “It was a nice surprise. I bet all your supporters are delighted.”
Miguel hums in response and looks at you with his little grin. “I hope so.”
“I’m sure they are! I’m not even from this dimension and I’m delighted by it,” you reply turning back to look at the windows just in time as Santa’s sleigh flies by Miguel’s windows.
You cover your mouth in delight as Santa waves at the two of you with Spider-Man 2099 just behind him on the sleigh. You can’t help yourself so you wave back at Santa and then at Spider-Man 2099 when Santa moves his sleigh further ahead so the superhero can face both Miguel and you. He gives Miguel a nod, which you find amusing considering the irony before the hologram turns to you. He leans closer and offers a high-five, which you reciprocate with a soft laugh as you’ve never seen Miguel do such a thing. Just as you put your hand down, the hologram gives you a wink.
“Oh,” you say simply, amused but surprised before both Santa and Spider-Man 2099 wave goodbye and fly lower to other floors. You steal a glance at Miguel and notice his eyes on the still dancing snowmen. There’s a soft blush covering his cheeks as he leans his entire body on the window sideways with his free hand in his pocket since the two of you have placed your mugs on the window’s ledge. Is he avoiding your gaze? You turn back to the show with a small smile.
Miguel stares at the snowmen, they’re still dancing and sending holographic snowflakes into the air. His face feels hot and he’s sure it shows. He wasn’t expecting to be part of the show this year, even though he’s been added to it before but what was more surprising was the hologram’s behavior. He smiles and shakes his head to himself as he looks at you. Your attention is back to the show. He hasn’t even offered a high-five to you - or anyone - since Gabriella, so he finds it amusing that the hologram beat him to it. The winking on the other hand… Makes his cheeks flush and wonder what were the odds that the hologram winked at you specifically. He sighs silently and returns his attention back to the show, thinking that his small embarrassment was worth it, considering you found the interaction amusing and it made you happy. He decides he can handle some light embarrassment if that’s the outcome, your happiness.
The show concludes with Santa and Spider-Man 2099 making one last round across the sky, snowmen dancing with snowflakes falling. They wave goodbye as they fly around before they head straight for the yellow portal, disappearing into it with a bright glow. The snowmen follow, waving goodbye, still dancing in a line as they enter the spinning star. At last there’s nothing left except for the spinning star which begins to slow down until it stops completely. It blinks in and out. Once, twice, thrice… before it explodes into tiny yellow flickers of light that begin to form words, spelling out “¡Feliz Navidad, Nueva York!”
You smile fondly as the show concludes. “That was awesome,” you say softly.
Miguel scoffs playfully. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
You nod and retrieve your mug, finishing up your drink.
“And this was really good, too. I can’t decide which one I like more. Champurrado or ponche,” you say, raising an eyebrow as you ponder this.
Miguel chuckles softly. “It’s a hard choice… Now add café de olla to the mix.”
“I’m choosing café de olla.”
Miguel blinks at how fast you responded, then chuckles again. “I’m taking that as a cue from you.”
You laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that but if you’re still offering, I’m not declining,” you say with a little shrug, which amuses Miguel.
He gestures back to the kitchen. “It’s amazing with sweet tamales.”
And that’s all it takes for the two of you to find yourselves back in the kitchen island with different mugs now holding café de olla. Since he recalled all those previous years, Miguel finds himself sharing those days, telling you all about Gabriel and how excited he was each year. You smile as he shares those fond memories, making you wish you could’ve met the younger O’Hara brother with the cheeky smile.
It’s past midnight when you look around the kitchen, noticing the pans and pots. The two of you have been sitting here just talking and drinking coffee but you realize you should probably head home soon.
“May I help you clean up?” you ask Miguel.
And of course, he immediately shakes his head. “Thank you but don’t worry about it. I got it.”
You frown softly. “I don’t mind. That way it’s done quicker and you can rest sooner. You must be tired after cooking all on your own.”
“It’s alright, don’t worry about it, Y/N,” he replies gently but you shake your head.
“Please. It’s the least I can do. We’ll tackle it quicker together. C’mon,” you say, standing up.
“Y/N,” Miguel replies, almost grumpily because the last thing he wants is for you to be doing any cleaning when you’re his guest but you’re already around the kitchen island, facing him.
“Does it matter what containers I use?” you ask him.
Miguel stares at you, wishing he could glare at you for insisting on doing this but he finds himself unable to. All he does is pout and shake his head before he stands up, giving up and accepting your help. Midway through the cleaning he decides it’s a good thing anyway, since it means that you’re spending more time with him here at his penthouse. It also gives him more time to build the courage and give you your Christmas gift. After some time, the kitchen is spotless and the food has been stored away. You neatly fold a towel over the counter before walking back to the chairs. It’s about 12:30 am, Christmas Day. You know it’s time to head home now as you want Miguel to rest, and you could use some sleep yourself. You reach for your coat, swinging it over your arm, thinking about something.
“I should head home now. It’s pretty late and you must be tired,” you say, looking at Miguel just as he walks around the kitchen island to meet you.
He leans on the counter with one hand. “I’m not too tired, don’t worry,” he says with a small grin. Miguel’s definitely a bit tired but he’ll gladly stay up later if it means you’ll stay a bit longer.
“You should still get some rest,” you reply with a small. “Thank you so much for dinner. As always, I loved everything.”
Miguel nods slowly. “Always. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
You hum in response, smiling. You nod, ready to wish him a Merry Christmas before heading out but he straightens up.
“Before you go…” Miguel starts, trailing off. He looks at the tree, gaining that courage at last. “Here.”
He walks to the tree and retrieves a holiday gift bag from behind it. Your eyebrows raise in surprise and for some strange reason, your heart speeds up. Did Miguel get you a gift?
Miguel walks back to you, standing just a few feet away before he hands it to you. He feels his own heart race as he watches you carefully accept the bag, with your eyes filled with surprise.
“Oh… Miguel. You didn’t have to, really,” you say so softly as you stare at the bag. “But… thank you. Thank you, Miguel,” you say with a warm smile before you remember what you were thinking about just a minute ago. “Wait, can you give me like five minutes? I need to go home. I’ll be right back, I promise,” you say as you gently place his gift bag on the counter. “I’ll be right back, is that okay with you?”
Miguel nods, wondering why you need to go home, though a part of him suspects the reason. “Yes, that’s okay. I’ll wait here.”
You nod eagerly, smiling as you begin to walk backwards, heading to the living room. “I’ll be right back!”
You head to the living room, quickly opening a portal as you do so. You return to your dimension and in less than five minutes you’re back in Nueva York. You walk back into the kitchen and dining area of Miguel’s penthouse with a large box wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper and an equally tall gift bag. You find Miguel exactly where he stayed when you left and upon seeing the box and bag, his eyebrows raise gently, surprised. You approach him slowly.
“I was debating… giving it to you,” you start gently. “I didn’t know if you’d find the gesture - as too much - and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I hope it doesn’t,” you finish softly as you offer him the box. “I hope you like it, Miguel,” you add sheepishly because you thought about it for days. What could you gift to someone who had the money to buy it himself if he didn’t have it already? What was something that you could give him that would be meaningful? You had to sit down and brainstorm.
Miguel takes the box from you because he doesn’t want you to keep holding such a large box on top of a gift bag on your own, even if you’re Spider-Woman and you can certainly carry more than that.
“You didn’t have to,” Miguel says softly as he feels the weight. “Thank you, Y/N,” he says looking up at you, taken aback. He wasn’t thinking about receiving gifts nor did he buy anything for himself as he’s not really about receiving gifts, at least not since he was a kid.
You nod and smile. “Always. And here’s the gift bag, too.”
Miguel places the box on the kitchen island and accepts the bag. “Are you sure?” he asks, raising his eyebrows again. “Whatever is in the box, I think that’s - I hope you didn’t waste too much money,” he says, nervously.
“Don’t worry about that, please. You don’t have to open it now if you don’t want to, by the way,” you reply, thinking now that he may find it more comfortable to open it without you around.
“No, that would be rude. I’ll open it now. If you open yours,” Miguel says, meeting your gaze.
You chuckle and nod. “I’ll open it here with you then.”
“You first,” he replies, holding the gift bag you’ve given him.
You don’t argue and nod, trying to make this a pleasant moment for Miguel. You pick up the gift bag he gave you and open it, before gently pulling out decorative tissue paper. You look inside and realize there’s multiple gifts, all individually wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper. You look up at Miguel and grin softly, shaking your head at him because you’ve done something similar.
“You didn’t have to get me so many things.”
Miguel shrugs, smiling softly. “I could tell you the same thing.”
You laugh and pull out the first item. It’s a box that you carefully unwrap, revealing a white box. You open it, finding the item surrounded in tissue paper. At last, you pull it to the side and find a sweatshirt. You pull it out of the box with a smile, spreading it open to see the design on the front. It has Nueva York’s skyline printed on it and the sweatshirt is in one of your favorite colors.
“I thought since you really like sweatshirts…” Miguel says, hoping you like it.
“I love sweatshirts and I love this one! It’s so cute, thank you!” you happily tell him as you pull it towards your chest. “Seriously, I love this so much! Thank you, Miguel,” you add much softly.
Miguel grins, relieved because he can see your genuine reaction. It only makes him more excited to see you open the rest.
“Go ahead and open the others,” he says gently.
You nod happily and continue, pulling out another box but this one is heavier. After carefully unwrapping it, you’re holding a brand new tablet from this dimension.
Miguel walks closer to you, hoping you like it. “I found a way to make sure it’ll work in your dimension, much like the gizmos and other devices we use for the society. You’ll have access to any dimension’s internet, if it has internet, of course. I… I always see how much you seem to enjoy working with the tablets here and I thought you’d like your own for your personal use,” Miguel starts, sounding excited as he tells you more about it and all the features you’ll have access to.
You smile and eagerly nod, happy to see Miguel so excited as he tells you about it. You can only look at him in awe as he thought about everything and any potential issues you may have, even thinking about a protective screen and case.
“I can tell you more about it later, there’s a few more things in the bag,” Miguel says, stepping back to give you space.
You thank him once again for the tablet, suspecting that it was rather expensive. You go through the rest of the bag, finding books for you to read since you’ve told Miguel over the last months about books you’ve read, and he has noticed it himself by spotting books on your coffee table. You notice he bought books that fit your vibe perfectly, which you find endearing. Along with that, Miguel bought you multiple packages of book tabs because he also noticed some of your books back home had some, marking passages that you really liked. You smile warmly as you put those items back, thanking Miguel for being so thoughtful, into yet another gift. He packaged the books and book tabs into a reusable tote bag with some of Nueva York's most important buildings printed on it, which you absolutely love.
At last, you reach the final present. You pull it out, the item feeling familiar. You look at it with curiosity and proceed to open it with Miguel's encouragement. You smile slowly.
“Miguel…” you say softly as you reveal four records. You read the titles, recognizing the artists. You smile at him as you realize.
Lyla plays music sometimes for the two of you on Saturdays when Miguel hosts dinner and during those times, you've discovered some new music from this universe. The only problem is that they don't exist in your dimension.
“Thank you… This means so much to me. You know how much I love their music. Now I can add it to my collection. Thank you!” you tell him warmly, wishing you could give him a hug right now. “Thank you for everything, Miguel.”
Miguel grins softly and nods. “Always. I'm glad you like your gifts,” he replies, truly feeling happy. He's also glad you don't seem to mind that he got you a few things, nor find it odd that he’s bought you gifts.
“Your turn,” you tell him softly.
Miguel scoffs playfully but nods. “Alright. Which one should I open first?”
“The box,” you answer quickly, excited.
Miguel nods and moves towards the box, silently wondering what's inside as he remembers the weight. He smiles softly at you before he starts unwrapping it, slowly revealing an image on the box. He pauses as he realizes what it is.
“Y/N…” he says, looking up at you with surprise and happiness in his eyes.
“I've noticed you don't have one but that you enjoy the records back at my universe so… I thought I'd get you one. I know the sound quality from the ones here in your universe is probably better but-” you stop as Miguel shakes his head at you, his hand flat on the record player, or its packaging box at least.
“No, this one is perfect,” Miguel says in such a way that there's no room for debate. “Thank you, this is so thoughtful, Y/N. I know exactly where I'm going to set it up,” he adds softly, grinning, already thinking about the perfect place.
You smile at him, noticing a glimmer in his eyes.
“Always. I'm so happy you like it… You still have the bag though!” you remind him, chuckling.
“Right. I got too excited with the record player.”
He grabs the bag and opens it, pulling out decorative tissue paper just as gently as you did with yours, finding individual gifts wrapped as well. He chuckles to himself, finding it amusing that you both did the same thing.
He pulls out a small box and unwraps it, revealing a pair of black mittens. His eyebrows furrow, noticing they'll definitely fit. He hasn't found mittens nor gloves that fit his hands before, at least not in stores. It didn’t matter much in the last few years, considering he was always wearing his suit but now that he's been wearing his clothes and going out to retrieve groceries, he could really use them with winter and all.
He picks one up and tries it, fitting him perfectly. Miguel smiles turning his hand and that's when he sees the small personalization with his last name on the bottom of the glove in silver thread. He chuckles softly, realizing you had these custom-made for sure.
“Are they okay?” you ask.
“Yes, they're more than okay.” Miguel looks up and shows you. “They fit. I've never been able to find any for my hands since I became Spider-Man. Thank you so much, and the personalization… I've never been gifted something so personalized. Thank you, Y/N, truly” Miguel says with a smile, knowing that he'll be using them a lot for the winter.
He pulls out another box and smiles softly when he finds books. Many months ago at your apartment, Miguel mentioned that he liked to read though it's something he rarely does these days. He recalls telling you that time that he enjoyed reading history and sci-fi books, exactly the kind you got him. The fact that you remembered this tiny detail from so long ago, makes Miguel smile in appreciation. He thanks you for remembering and promises to try and read them soon, silently telling himself that for the new year, he’s going to try and get back into reading.
At last, he reaches the final package. It feels heavy and when Miguel looks at you with wonder and curiosity, he sees a glimmer in your eyes, excitement.
With your encouragement, he unwraps and opens the package. He stares into the box, feeling a warmth spread through him. He looks at you and gives you a gentle smile before he pulls out the first record.
“You…” Miguel starts quietly, with tenderness. He can't help but feel ternura for you **in this moment.
You walk closer to him, smiling. “You've mentioned liking some of the records. Some are my personal ones, others were Peter's… and I remembered you didn't have a record player, so I thought I could get you one, and also some records to help you start a collection,” you explain softly.
Miguel nods as he pulls out another record, and yes, the two he's pulled out so far are records he truly enjoys from your universe. He smiles softly at you, filled with ternura. Your gifts are so thoughtful and sweet, and the fact that you've paid attention to what records he enjoys when he’s mentioned it in passing, makes him feel heard, appreciated, and… loved.
“Thank you - so much, Y/N. For everything,” Miguel says softly, almost a whisper. “I can't wait to set the record player up and continue adding to the collection you've started for me. Thank you.”
“Always. I'm glad you like it, Miguel,” you answer softly. “And if you ever just want to borrow one of the records, let me know. I'll happily let you.”
Miguel nods, smiling gently, in appreciation. You can only return the smile before both of you notice the white, soft spots through the windows.
“Una blanca Navidad,” Miguel says quietly.
“A white Christmas,” you repeat. “Merry Christmas, Miguel,” you tell him.
Miguel smiles. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”
You both watch the snow for a few minutes, mentioning how excited the kids will be when they wake up before Miguel continues to appreciate every record you gifted him.
After some more talking about the records and Miguel thanking you a few times more, you stand in his living room with your tote bag and bag with gifts. A portal is behind you, waiting for you to step in to return home.
“Thank you for dinner once again. Everything was so amazing! And thank you for the thoughtful gifts, Miguel,” you tell him warmly with a smile.
“Always… I'm happy you liked dinner and the gifts.” Miguel smiles back at you and then he remembers. “Come back for the recalentado, please. Just like last year,” he says, stepping closer. Ever since opening his gifts, he's had the need to hug you but it's still too soon, still too much for him to handle.
“Of course, thank you. What time is best for you?” you ask with a grin.
Miguel pauses for a moment, thinking. And then, he invites you for breakfast.
“The recalentado is for dinner. You can go home after breakfast, don't feel pressured to be here all day. I know you probably have plans to see everyone else at some point today and then you can come back for dinner, or… If you want to spend the day here - I wouldn't mind at all but you probably have plans and-” Miguel says, scratching his neck softly, not knowing how to simply say that he’d be open to you spending the day here with him without it sounding off.
“I wouldn't mind either.”
Miguel lowers his hand. “Oh…” He smiles slowly and nods. “Then…”
“I’ll see you in the morning - or well, I guess in a few hours?”
“In a few hours then,” he replies softly. “I’ll wait for you for breakfast.”
You thank him again and with one last goodbye from both of you, you enter the portal and return home. Miguel stands in his living room, the light of the portal fading slowly. He looks past it and out the windows, the snow is really picking up now. He smiles softly, planning on doing one more thing before heading to bed for the night.
The next morning you shower and get ready to go to Miguel's universe. You grab your gizmo from the coffee table, accidentally knocking off a notice you and the entire building received earlier this month from your landlord, something about not overloading extension cords and electrical sockets because of the holidays to avoid a short circuit.
You pick it up and place it back on the table before you open a portal. You find yourself in Miguel's living room once again, only a few hours later.
The fireplace is on already, making the entire penthouse feel cozy and warm. The sound of music fills your ears, except the quality is different and you recognize the song. Your eyes search for it and you find it quickly. You smile in delight as you see that Miguel has given his new record player and records a home in his living room, and that he's already using it.
“Good morning, Merry Christmas,” Miguel says making you turn in surprise, which makes him chuckle softly.
You chuckle as you take him in. His hair is damp from a shower and he's wearing a beige sweater that looks incredibly cozy on him. He steps closer, gesturing to the record player. His scent surrounds you and you find yourself recognizing every aspect of it - from his shampoo to his body wash and his shaving products to his deodorant and cologne, to his scent alone. You blink, surprised at yourself by how well you recognize the different notes of his scent, even months later since you helped him shower when he was injured and nearly lost his life back in the spring.
You push those thoughts away and smile at Miguel as he tells you about how he set up the record player after you left and that he's been playing music from it since he woke up. You don’t fail to notice the happy tone in his voice as he tells you about it before he leads you to the kitchen and dining area of his penthouse where a lovely breakfast, cooked by Miguel, awaits the two of you.
Over music and conversation, you have breakfast together. You don’t leave afterward and instead stick around, especially when Miguel mentioned there was a holiday special for the movie series the two of you got into when he was recovering from his injuries in the spring. And so, you spent the entirety of the day in each other's presence on this Blanca Navidad.
🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄
Translations: café de olla - Mexican coffee made in a pot pan dulce - Mexican sweet bread tinga - Latin dish made out of meat (pork, chicken) in sauce with onions, chiles chipotle, and tomatoes. Can be eaten on tostadas or as burritos (my experience) and topped with different toppings like sour cream, salsa, lettuce. burritos - I think everyone knows this tostadas - toasted tortillas; usually used as a base for different culinary dishes pozole - A kind of soup/stew made from hominy and meat (can be chicken or beef) and can be green or red, based on what chiles are used rajas de chile poblano - slices of chile poblano queso fresco - fresh cheese ponche - a Mexican Christmas punch made out of fresh fruit, spices (like hibiscus flowers), and sugar cane champurrado - chocolate-based atole, which is made of masa harina (in my experience). buñuelos - Christmas dessert; fried dough fritter (so good with atole) "Ya lo sabia" - "I knew it" agua de Jamaica - hibiscus tea Dia de Los Muertos - Day of the Dead ofrenda - altar for Day of the Dead recalentado - word translates to "reheated" but this is when you invite your closest friends and family to eat the reheated leftovers from the previous day of some event. It's supposed to be a smaller tight-knit group situation and less formal since it's with close friends/family. "una blanca Navidad" - "a white Christmas" "mira" - "look" Feliz Navidad - Merry Christmas ternura - endearment, tenderness; I still can't find a word in English that makes me feel like the word "ternura" does
_____________
Long A/N: Merry Christmas! I was hoping to have this out sooner, but the holidays got to me. I was also not planning on writing anything like this for Nonviolent Communication, but then I was like
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Didn't I write a Christmas part (for Nonviolent Communication) back in like September because Christmas and Miguel just sound so cozy and warm? And now when it's the holidays I'm gonna miss the chance to write something for the story? In this economy? No. So, I got the idea and started writing, and here it is now! Thank you to everyone who responded to this post regarding what you'd give Miguel for Christmas. I had a horrible migraine while working on this yesterday and my brain was not cooperating. Thank you to @winniethewife for mentioning mittens! And thank you to @lulu-baked-beans for the lovely idea of gifting Miguel a record player and some records to start his own collection! I already had Miguel set to gift reader some records from his universe, so this was such a perfect little coincidence!
I hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you for reading if you got this far! Happy Holidays! ❤️🎄
Also, here's a little BTS of me working on this with someone special who arrived Friday (just in time to help with the tamales and everything else 🤣). He said he'd go with café de olla, too!
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punkpandapatrixk · 14 days
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❤️‍🩹Finding Love ☆ Timeless Tarot Guidance
Elements/Signs in this reading are calibrated to all aenergetic placements. Feel free to read as many Elements/Signs as you feel called to at this point in your spiritual evolution♡
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
You want to see how a nation falls? First, make sure every family unit is fucked. The foundation of the beginning of a ruined society is a dysfunctional family unit. A household that is lacking warmth and affection is a breeding house for psychopaths…or sure-victims of them. How is this not obvious to everybody? Well, in our case, I guess the Boomerangs just didn’t care…enough?
An entire generation of selfish psychopaths preoccupied with order and rules, obsessed with the idea of a ‘perfect image’ even at the cost of the authenticity of their children’s Souls. Tell me if they ain’t breeding new generations of psychopaths? But…who fucked the Boomerangs in the first place? And who had fucked the generation that fucked the Boomerangs? 考えきれない。There’s no end to thinking about it. But!
Not all hope is lost. For we have us—OURSELVES! You, who are reading this, who are blessed with this peculiarly RARE thing in the world: self-awareness. That you’re curious about the roots of your sorrow; that you’re trying to be better; that you’re willing to face your own demons so you grow in character, all because you care enough not to perpetuate the cycle.
There is Hope is us. In people like you and I. For this spiritual work alone, you are going to be blessed with the utmost beautiful Love, first, by finding it inside of yourself~
☆♪°・. aenergetic companion PAC ☆♪°・.
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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Finding Love for 🐞Fire Signs - Silver Alchemist (Ramon Llull)
5 of Cups, Queen of Wands, XIX The Sun
You know, Fire Signs are passionate. So passionate they often get way too invested in whatever matters to them. That’s why when betrayal or any other kind of a fallout happens, they find it so difficult to calm down, let alone move on from. I want you to know this isn’t a failure of your character or anything like it, not necessarily, no. You care. And that’s a wonderful thing. And it genuinely, usually, takes A LOT to finally get a Fire Sign to stop caring.
That’s the one thing about you: PASSION. Within the context of this reading, could it be that you’ve been putting your passion on the wrong things, the wrong people? Because you’re not a quitter, right? Maybe you’ve had this tendency of wanting to make sure things work out; after all, you’ve invested so much into this thing, project, people, whatever. Not quitting on the wrong things will only drain you of high-vibrational, positive spiritual aenergy left in you, babe. Then…frustrations and sadness are just going to drain you of more physical energy.
Low energy also makes people irritable, unmotivated and non-optimistic, right? Let not the harshness of your connections with people dim your natural brightness. What’s really important to figure out now is how you can shift your focus on being passionate about things, places, work, and people that truly, truly, bring joy and sunshine into your Life~
'Daughter. Spend your life Loving. Not seeking Love. Ocean need not seek water.' – Dr Jaiya John
Oracle Guidance for Fire Signs🔻❤️
🐏Aries – Priestess of Fortune
🦁Leo – Priestess of Integrity
🎠Sagittarius – Priestess of Opulence
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Finding Love for 🐍Earth Signs - Silver Magus (Merlin)
XV The Devil Rx, 7 of Cups Rx, VI The Lovers Rx
I tend to think that Earth and Water Signs are the TRUE psychopaths of the zodiac LMAO Underdeveloped Taurus, Virgo and Caps are so incredibly selfish and self-centred that they make human interactions such a misery business. And due to the nature of their Earthy-ness—meaning they can be quite hard to shake—Earth Signs can be quite bigoted about certain viewpoints they hold. Within the context of this reading, Earth Signs literally make a hell out of their very own existence through their inability to connect human-to-human with other…humans.
Or is it really an inability? Is it not simply a refusal? An Earth Sign must ponder this upon itself. Maybe you’ve been in refusal to be more empathetic because it is paramount to be empirical in any situation? Perhaps you’re the type of person that values objectivity above all forms of subjectivity? But the Human experience is subjective. Approaching all types of human connection with an eye of business or with the mind of an objective researcher will only hinder your capacity for real empathy.
The Human experience is an empathetic experience. People feel things and sometimes those feelings are heavy and burdensome and they get the better of us—that’s just the reality of being alive XD If you could give yourself the grace of a more subjective point of view when viewing yourself and the many experiences you go through, then maybe it will be that much easier to notice how other people also base their decisions for forming connections through a very subjective lens—and you will see that being this way creates a more true bond between people.
Does all this sound too subversive for logical Earth Signs? XD
The Problem With Being Too Logical in Love by The School of Life
Oracle Guidance for Earth Signs🔻💚
🐂Taurus – Priestess of Luck
🧘🏻‍♀️Virgo – Priestess of Magick
🐐Capricorn – Priestess of Clarity
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Finding Love for ⛲Air Signs - Red Alchemist (John Dee)
XVII The Star, Ace of Cups, 3 of Cups Rx
The Star is associated with Aquarius, right? Whoa, the epitome of Human intelligence :D Air Signs are intelligent and very interested in people—in human relations and understanding what makes people tick. That’s why Air Signs make the best friends and confidants…as long as they don’t run their mouths hahah Now that is a matter of character. What kind of person are you in your friend group(s)? Do you play different characters in different groups? Sounds like a lot of fun XD
Air Signs do tend to have (or belong to) different groups of people depending on function. It’s very interesting. Air Signs can be the glue that connects different groups of people who, without Air Sign, would never have come into contact with one another. Gemini is the fun-loving funny member of a group. Libra is a charming diplomat who’s considerate towards everybody. Aquarius is the pioneering CEO who gets everybody working towards a goal. Ideally, well-developed Air Signs would be these things :D
You should really value this unique intelligence of yours that has the power to eradicate all crazy unreasonable differences in the world, you know. You of all people, I’m very certain, have this keen ability to get to the roots of everybody’s mental problems. After all, you are mental. Air Signs usually don’t get a lot of credits for being empathetic or whatever and that’s true for the most part. But what you do have is this INTEREST in people, and that’s good enough for starters XD It makes you a good person, you know.
Literally, you’re the type that can make friends with just about anybody. You are polite and charming—and those with Venus here are often very beautiful, too!
Oracle Guidance for Air Signs🔻💙
👯Gemini – Priestess of Healing
⚖️Libra – Priestess of Ritual
🏺Aquarius – Priestess of Abundance
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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Finding Love for 🐝Water Signs - Green Astronomer (Nicolaus Copernicus)
VII The Chariot, 3 of Swords, Queen of Cups Rx
Hey, what is your Truth? What experiences and emotions have shaped the being that you are today? Do you know for sure? Have you analysed all the feelings you’ve ever struggled with, as well as those that make you realise, Life truly is worthwhile? It’s those moments you’re reminded of what’s good about your Life that you feel gratitude, isn’t it so? Alongside nostalgia and the desire to return to a much simpler time. Time when feelings were a lot easier to process, perhaps. But Life, and this world, needs to keep going on as per Universal Mandate.
What’s left in the past can still be regenerated in the future and it can get even better, too—now that you’ve grown up. Now that you’ve healed a little, or a lot. Heartbreaks with Water Signs always heal when we return to the pool of our authenticity, located deep in the core of our being. Therein lies the tears and the beauty that make you such a deeply compelling character to converse with. If Humans aren’t ready to listen to your truths, write about them; turn emotions into songs or poetry or painting; what have you. Water needs to flow somewhere. Nourishing a lot of life from there.
Water Signs, are Love. Nurturer of Life and nourisher of Human emotions. You should really appreciate the poetry of your sheer existence. So, don’t let this world convince you that there’s something wrong with you because you’re sensitive enough to care about a lot. That’s your strength. It just needs to be directed and redirected to the right things/occasions/people and places. Be generous with your Love and compassion, but take no shit from those who can’t learn to be grateful for a Love as rare and precious as yours~ Know your worth, babe. You’re worth a gazillion dimes.
Oracle Guidance for Water Signs🔻💛
🦀Cancer – Priestess of Enchantment
🦂Scorpio – Priestess of Patience
🎏Pisces – Priestess of Prosperity
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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
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