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#ghost spider x fem!reader
goosetheluce · 8 months
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It's Been a While (Gwen Stacy x Fem!Reader)
requested by anon: "can I req one where it's like a little reunion after atsv? Like before she goes and sees her dad she goes and sees reader bc she's been missing for months and Gwen's probably worried at first but readers just too happy to see her again.maybe a little friends to lovers, thank youuuuu☺️☺️☺️"
info: decently angsty, physical affection (kissing, hugging, hand holding), crying, flashbacks, desperate!gwen, gwen 3rd person pov, cussing, use of y/n
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Gwen's entire body was crawling with nerves as she flung out her webs. She surged through her home city with poise and elegance. Her anxiety was shielded on the outside; Spider-Woman always had to be collected, breezy, perfect. Even now. Especially now, considering the news cameras and helicopters pointed at her. She could only imagine the headlines being displayed all across New York:
Vigilante "Spider-Woman" Makes An Appearance After Months
Masked Hero Re-Appears
Ghost-Spider Visits During Violent Era Beginning Without Her
She groaned in frustration, doing her best to outrun the nightcrawlers and news stations. Her father was probably getting his force ready to incarcerate her that very moment. A chill spread across her skin, and it wasn't the frigid rain.
She swung into an alleyway, ripping her mask off to catch her breath. Her time before Miles was put in real danger was ticking away, and this game of cat and mouse certainly wasn't helping. She sighed and sunk down the brick wall in exhaustion. Gwen needed to figure something out before she was cornered in the labyrinth that was New York City.
She listened to the cars screeching in the distance, listened to the bar fights, the laughter of a group of teenage girls past their curfews. It was by no means a city of sunshine, but she desperately missed her life.
Desperately missed you.
Gwen pulled her hood over her head as far as possible, ignoring the sting filling her eyes. She sighed shakily, breath condensing in the autumn thunder.
She needed to see you. Besides, it's not like she had much of a choice.
God, why did I have to make my suit bright fucking white? Maybe then these idiots would leave me alone.
Even now she heard the choppers pulsing in the sky. She wondered with a shudder how many were police force. Gotta get out of this suit.
She slipped her mask back on and set off. See, Gwen would never commit a crime with malicious intent. Hell, she was Spider-Woman, but she couldn't see any other way blend into the city without the chance of bumping into her dad at the apartment.
So she robbed a clothing store.
As gently as possible, but unfortunately that still meant damage. Gwen huffed. Had it really come down to this?
She pulled her arm back, flinching away from the window as she shattered it with a simple punch, even whispered "sorry" as if that changed anything. The shards clinked against the sleek-tiled floor of the Nike shop and she hopped inside with ease.
Don't have much time, she noted. The alert system wailed deafeningly as she shot webs at every security camera and stole the footage for that night. She raced through the store, grabbing a pair of black sweatpants and a navy blue winter compression shirt. She changed right there in the store with the cameras blinded. She swiped a drawstring bag and stuffed her suit and mask inside. She kneeled down to lace up her converse tightly. She still had a long way to go to your flat.
Gripping the strings of her bag tightly, she raced away. The rain had stopped, but the storm still threatened deep rumbles of thunder a couple of miles away. Her swift footsteps splashed through grimey puddles lit by orange streetlamps. The city seemed more perilous than ever as sirens screamed and guns fired, and guilt struck her chest.
Internally thanking her enhanced speed and endurance, Gwen stared up at your window not even ten minutes after she fled the store. Now came the hardest part: facing you, her closest friend, after she joined the society. Truthfully, she missed the warmth gifted to her from your loving arms. Something her dad never gave her before she left.
She paced around the block over and over again, wondering what the hell she was supposed to say to you. "Hey, I'm back after months of radio silence, and don't mind that I just crawled up your wall because it turns out I've been a human-spider freak this whole time. Missed you too."
Suddenly, it didn't matter what Gwen wanted to say anymore, because a police car was turning the corner.
"Fuck!"
She dashed up the wall and onto the roof, crouching to avoid any nearby helicopters. She released her breath in relief. She shook out her body and rubbed her temples. This was it. She began to crawl down the face of the complex, hoping she'd remember the right window.
Perk number 42 of being bitten by a radioactive spider.
She peered inside the window of your bedroom. It was convenient for her in the moment, but Gwen made a note to scold you for leaving your blinds open. She reached her hand out, hesitated, then curled it into a fist and gently tapped. She squeezed her eyes shut.
She saw you look up from your school laptop in confusion.
It's one in the morning and this woman is really doing homework.
Gwen tapped again.
"Y/N!" she called out softly. "Y/N, let me in!"
She heard a muffled "what the fuck?" through the glass.
"Gwen?" you whisper screamed in disbelief, unlocking your window and pulling it open. Your jaw went slack as Gwen simply jumped off the wall while diving into your window.
"Y/N, before you say anything, let me explain," she frantically rambled. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Please." Her eyes opened slowly to see you. Her body went rigid.
Fuck, she's crying.
Tears were welling and threatening to spill out from your eyes. Your fists were clenched so tightly that your nails left crescent moons gouged into your palms.
"What the hell was that?" you laughed breathily before rushing forward to hug her. You practically constricted her as you wrapped your arms around her waist. She had no idea what to do for a moment. Her own emotions were about to overflow and wash her composure away. Gwen settled for squishing her cheek against yours while holding you tight. As she rubbed your back, your sobs quieted.
You pulled away, wiping the wetness away from your eyes and lips. Gwen's stare lingered as your thumb grazed over your bottom lip out of habit. You stood up a little bit taller.
"It's been a while, Gwen."
Her stance jerked a little, barely even noticeable.
"I know. I've got a lot to explain to you, if you're willing to listen." You nodded firmly, turning around to sit back down on your bed. You patted the space adjacent to you.
Gwen took seat, spreading her legs out comfortably and resting her forearms on her knees. Her posture was slanted; it was still hard for her to make eye contact with you. She didn't want to find anger or disappointment in those eyes she had stared into one too many times. Eyes that haunted her in the most tragically beautiful manner possible.
"I disappeared," Gwen began hesitantly. "But not without a reason. So much has happened in the last two years, I just...I guess it all came to one single point and that was it for me. I had no chances left, no risks to take. It was over."
Her explanation was raw, quivering and vulnerable. Your heart began to race, wondering what she'd say next. You had no idea what was going on; yeah, Gwen did ballet and gymnastics or whatever, but that little trick she did to get into your window was no joke.
She jumped up from the bed and turned to face you.
I have to do this now.
"This is the craziest part, but you have to believe me," she whispered. Fear coated her rocky voice and widened her eyes. You blinked at her in reassurance, smiling a bit.
"Gwen, just tell me. You know I'll listen."
She sighed heavily and grabbed her bag off the floor. "Okay. Give me a second. And don't make any noise when I come out." She slipped into your closet and shut the door silently behind her. The light flickered on and leaked out from underneath the doorframe. You watched her shadow move fluidly.
Inside the closet, Gwen was hyperventilating as she fit herself into her suit. She looked into the body-length mirror sitting on your floor, and a tear traced down her cheek. She was staring at her worst enemy, and she despised who she saw in the suit. Spider-Woman was a different entity.
She turned around and faced the closet door. Gwen placed her hand on the knob, taking a deep breath before turning it and pushing it open. She couldn't look at you, but when she tried, you weren't there. Her blood froze in her own veins.
Gwen was back in that collapsed building, that very same night, staring her father's gun down.
"Why the fuck am I here?" she questioned, panic filling her voice. She looked around, desperately trying to find your apartment, your face. Her movements suddenly were not her own anymore as she involuntarily turned to face her father. Her hands were lifted up above her head, but they sank down. One inched toward her mask.
No.
Her body didn't listen. Her fingers met her chin, grasping the enhanced material concealing her face from the world.
No!
She felt the cool air hit her lips, then her nose, and finally her weary eyes. She watched her father's face contort into horror and disbelief. Gwen finally found the ability to force her eyes to shut, tears spilling out. When she opened them again, she was back in your closet.
"Gwen? What's taking so long?" you called out quietly from your room.
She gasped for air, clutching her chest as she spasmed in silence. She aggressively rubbed her arm over her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying.
I have to do this. What happened before doesn't matter. I have to save things with her.
Once more, Gwen turned the handle and stepped out. She was relieved to find you sitting on your bed, staring at her.
"Uh, nice costume Gwen, but I was kinda hoping for you to finish your explanation?" you sarcastically jabbed.
"Y/N..." Gwen groaned. "It's not a costume."
You scoffed, becoming impatient.
"Really! It isn't, Y/N!" Gwen frantically begged with you to understand. You crossed your arms.
"How am I supposed to believe you're Spider-Woman?"
Gwen shoved her face into her hands. Her frustration boiled.
"You're gonna believe me after this," she nearly growled, flitting forward and taking you in her arms. She slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your protest. She pulled her mask down and shot a web out of your window, slingshotting out of your room and into the night.
You were a mile away from your apartment in a matter of seconds while Gwen (Spider-Woman...?) held you firmly in her left arm, tossing you lightly in the air before you landed on her back. She guided your arms and legs to wrap tightly around her back as you let out a shriek. Your hair flew straight behind you in the cold wind.
"Gwen, I fucking believe you now," you choked out into her ear. You could barely speak in your terror. The eyes of her suit went wide and she aimed for the top of another building.
She landed perfectly en pointe, her converse flexing to match the arch of her technique.
"Shit, Y/N, I'm so sorry-"
Gwen's apology was cut short as you gripped her broad shoulders.
"You're motherfucking Spider-Woman!" you yelled in awe. A thick sheet of rain was nearing as Gwen's eyes welled behind the mask.
"You don't think I'm a bad person? Or...or a freak?" she whispered shakily. Your face softened. You slid your hands up from her shoulders, caressing her face. Her eyes squinted before closing as she leaned into your touch. She reached her own hand up and cupped yours. Gwen's soul lit afire as she stared at your gorgeous face, felt the warmth of your love and bare skin.
You simply shook your head.
"What a dumb question. You're my best friend. And when you left, I...I mean, I guess I just didn't know what to do with myself. I lost a part of me."
The words coming out of your mouth felt wrong. Gwen's heart screamed in desolation. Maybe you would never understand.
Best friend.
"You lost a part of yourself, but I couldn't breathe without you," she murmured, bringing her other hand up to find more ways to touch you.
Your heart began to pound as her fingers laced with yours. The rain began to fall over you, drenching Gwen for the second time that night. What did she mean by that? You could have sworn you felt her rapid pulse intensify even more as you experimentally pressed your forehead against hers.
"Gwen..."
You brought your hands (still cupping her face) down to the base of her mask, forcing her own hands to fall away. You traced circles into her skin before gently sliding the disguise up above her lips.
Gwen painfully rasped your name while her digits found your skin again, this time resting timidly on the small of your back. She needed this so badly from you all these years, even more so as your face became a tale, something she could only dream of.
"Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. Please, please, please, just kiss me and never let me leave your side again, I'd do anything for you, Y/N-" she began to sob, but you caught her trembling lips in yours. Gwen immediately pulled you deeper into her hold, your bodies fitting together like a beautiful puzzle. Her fingers tangled into your hair and she pulled her mask all the way off. Her hood fell and her blonde waves began to frizz and tighten with the rain.
She savored the taste of your lip balm and the remnants of your bedtime herbal tea, picking you up and allowing you to wrap your legs around her. You pulled away, breathless and eyes filled with the starlight that the stormy midnight lacked.
"I love you, Gwen," you breathed. "But you're back for a reason. I don't know what reason that is, but you have to do it. We're counting on you."
Gwen nodded, dropping you safely and kneeling down to fit her mask back over her face and to allow you to cling to her.
"You forgot something, Ghost-Spider," you teased, sliding her hood over her head.
She scoffed, looking back at you with narrowed eyes. "That's Gwen to you."
In no time, you were delivered back to your warm bed. The rain pattered soothingly against your window while Gwen dried her suit off with a towel you lent to her. She eventually settled for just laying the towel down on your bed and sitting on it.
"So...are you my superhero girlfriend now, or am I about to wake up from the most story-oriented dream of my life?"
Gwen laughed softly. Everything in her life was fucked, but you brought a glow back to her existence. She had something to look forward to now. She pushed her hand to lock with yours.
"For the record, if this is a dream, then you and I are definitely imaginary girlfriends. But, since this is hopefully real life..." she assured, squeezing your hand. "Yeah, I'm your superhero girlfriend." You began to fluster, heat creeping across your cheeks.
Gwen stood up, still holding your smaller hand in her stronger grasp.
"Which unfortunately also means I've gotta do superhero girlfriend stuff," she sighed, brushing her hair behind her heavily pierced ear. She looked at you apologetically as your grip on her tightened.
"Hey, we'll see each other again. I promise," she whispered, pressing a sugary kiss to your lips before backing away, her fingers slipping out of your reach. She pulled her mask down swiftly before turning around and leaping out of your window.
"I love you!" you shouted after her. Gwen beamed as she jumped through the city, posing in a recital-like fashion for the cameras when she lowered to the streets.
The rain didn't feel so cold anymore.
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a/n: thanks for reading!! if you're sapphic and in love with gwen then. definitely check my other gwen fics out hehe. been thinkingggg about a villain gwen x fem!reader au? let me know by sending smth to my inbox as a request or commenting !
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sweetyluvs · 10 months
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧ young & dumb
Gwen Stacy x fem! reader
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You’ve never truly talked to Gwen Stacy.
You both have four classes together, which is quite a bit, but you didn’t truly ever speak with her. You knew her name, what she looked like, who her best friend was— but it was difficult to not know that.
To you, she was a flustered, shy, word-sputtering, red faced mess. a socially awkward teen, which is universally known to be extraordinarily common. It was only when you thought your perception of her was wrong when you saw her conversing smoothly with a group of people.
the smile on her lips took over her whole face, the gap between her teeth visible, eyes gleaming with amusement during the time she cracked jokes. She was completely different around other people than she was with you. She didn’t profusely sweat, turn red, her tongue didn’t tie and she surely doesn’t trip on her untied shoelace’s. You wondered if she didn’t like you, maybe she didn’t want to spend a second near you— but that thought drowns down when you recall the many, many moments you’ve caught her blue eyes on you.
Staring so intensely you had felt as though she was studying you. your every feature, your movements.. it was strange, and it made you uncomfortable. you would lock eyes with her for two seconds before her face would light aflame and she would whip her head away— trying to not look back in order to avoid your eyes.
You’ve only had four “conversations” with Gwen— two of them being you asking if she’s okay after she brutally fell face smack to the floor.. it was interesting.
yet, it was the way her hues bore into you that left a strange knot the the very pit of your stomach. a strange flush of confidence— even if Gwen did not enjoy your company, it was interesting knowing she looks at you, at the very least, thirty times a day.
𓅪
the pace of the moving hallway was leisurely. 
a sluggish atmosphere covered everyone, as it was Friday, the day just before a three day weekend and no one was interested in anything other than going home.
You, on the other hand, wished you had the blessing of parting from your school when the bell rang at 3:40, but you do not.
After school activities are unworth your time, and you wished you would have never agreed to participate.
A sigh escaped your mouth upon arrival of your second to last class; aka, everyone else’s last class.
Algebra.
your nemesis— a nightmare in disguise, the devil in a shape. Your hatred for Algebra outweighed any other type of emotion you have. Walking out of the classroom as the bell rings and going home is a fantasy, a petty dream.
a grumble left you after you swallowed harshly, shoving the stuck ball of nervous saliva in your mouth down your throat.
Your hand met the door handle, and you pushed it open. You knew the new seating arrangements were designated for today,  so it was no surprise to see everyone in an unusual place.
the tired hues in your eyes snapped to the bored, looking over the shitty drawn classroom and the names placed next to each other.
You caught your name, and your eyes traveled to the name beside you; Gwen Stacy.
You had no quarrel with her, you had no reason to. You only hoped she didn’t laugh at your mathematical failures.
As you approached, you pursued your lips upon seeing her fiddling nervously with anything possible, trying to occupy her unoccupied hands.
You sat beside her, the chair creaking from its old age. the sound of the zipper on your backpack was drown out by the chattering of other students, you pulled out your book and placed it on the table, trying to ignore the obvious glances from the girl beside you.
The both of you sat in silence for a while, due to the math teacher always being late. The students in his class had no proof— but they swear he’s on some kind of substance due to his lack of ability to thoroughly teach his students— including yourself. You blamed him for your horrid mathematical situation, but then again, you could just be bad at it, because other students have A’s.
You saw Gwen pick at her nails, her knee bouncing up and down anxiously. You wanted to begin a possible conversation with her, but you had no clue what i would be about. Math? you wouldn’t know what you’d be speaking of.
your eyes flickered down to her notebook, it was littered with small stickers of all kinds— some of them surrounding the subject of biological science (if you’d guess). Animals, cells, Anatomy..
“is biological science something you enjoy?” before you knew it you had asked a question, tearing the awkward silence and thick air down the middle.
She froze, sweat dripping down her forehead profusely as she began sputtering her words.
“uh— yes— i mean, i guess.. it’s alright— well, yes— it is..” Her voice cracked and broke, it made you hurt for her internally.
“That’s nice. do you volunteer?” you questioned on, truly trying to dissipate the uncomfortable atmosphere.
“yes..”
“that’s really cool. biological science is difficult, you must be extremely smart.” you complimented, smiling at her although she was hiding her face with her blonde hair. She was undeniably beautiful, her eyes were bright and you liked the gap between her two front teeth, it was cute.
you eventually learned she didn’t take compliments well due to her silence.
“um.. do you have any other interests? like out of school?”
“I.. guess..”
The conversation, if it had the privilege to be called that, between you both ended when the teacher walked in, laughing boisterously, erasing what was on the board and writing an equation.
he began to explain it inefficiently, you squinted in confusion.
“and so, X equals A because C is not available as an answer.”
at this point, your eyes began fluttering shut upon the boredom of the class.
before you knew it, you were out cold.
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a repetitive tapping on your shoulder woke you up. Eyes shooting open.
“um.. you fell asleep, and class just finished.” gwen informed, a sweat drop falling down her forehead.
“oh, thank you for waking me up.” You acknowledged, yawning as you cracked your back.
“uh-um, no problem— no problem..” you caught her eyes flickering to you and away multiple times, making a strange smile fall on your lips.
Gwen was sweet, smart and cute. You think highly of her, and perhaps you should try and speak up on that.
“are you doing anything after school?” you inquire, watching her while she froze. You instantly regretted asking the questions the moment she began to stutter.
“um— no- yes, well, only for a while— not really— but.. no— I..”
She tumbled over every syllable.
“so.. no?”
“yes.”
“would you like to get a coffee downtown at the new place?” you question, tracing her side profile with your eyes.
“um.. sure..”
“wonderful! what about 4:50?”
“okay..”
You were about to say something before your name was called by a friend, catching your attention. You told them to wait a moment, turning back to Gwen.
“I’ll see you there, Gwen!” you smiled, quickly standing. Grabbing your bag you walk out the doors, sending the blonde a final look before making your way to your after school class.
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theprismyyy · 6 months
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I can't say much about whether or not Gwen Stacy is trans, I think the creators left it up to the public's own interpretation (which I think is pretty cool)....but no one, I repeat, NOBODY will be able to convince me that THIS darling doesn't kiss girls...
LOOK AT THAT SWEET LOOK...THAT LOOK OF THOSE WHO KISSES GIRLS!!!
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That being said, I will open a fanclub to defend bisexual Gwen Stacy😘 give this girl a MJ
(You can disagree with this, think she's straight or that she's better with Miles, I really don't care, it's your right, but I will not tolerate homophobic or offensive comments of any other kind.)
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daydreaming-en-pointe · 3 months
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the swan and her princess (part 1)
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summary: Swan Lake isn’t all beauty and grace, contrary to popular belief. And you experience firsthand that as you wage a one-sided war with your “rival” for the role of the Swan Princess, Odette.
pairing: Gwen Stacy (Spider-Woman) x fem!Ballerina!Reader
word count: 842
warnings: uses of Y/N, lots of ballet terms and references, the teacher displaying blatant favouritism ig?, mildly petty reader 💀
a/n: I finally got around to doing it! yay :D academic rivals to lovers ftw honestly
gearing up for my first official chapter-based fanfic WHOOOOOOOOO
dividers by me btw! it’s my first time doing dividers so any feedback would be appreciated <3
part 1 // part 2 (pending)
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glossary:
Swan Lake: Swan Lake, Op. 20, is a ballet composed by Russian composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky in 1875–76. It is now one of the most popular ballets of all time. The ballet is based on a German fairy tale, and tells the story of a prince named Siegfried who falls in love with Odette, a princess who has been turned into a swan by an evil sorcerer
Odette: Odette is the main female protagonist in the ballet "Swan Lake," which is composed by Pyotr Tchaikovsky. She is the White Swan, also known as the Swan Princess/Swan Queen.
Anna Pavlova: Anna Pavlovna Pavlova was a Russian prima ballerina of the late 19th and the early 20th centuries. She was a principal artist of the Imperial Russian Ballet and the Ballets Russes of Sergei Diaghilev. (basically, every ballerina’s idol)
first position: In the first position, the heels are together, with toes turned out until the feet are in a large, open V or a straight line.
relevé: Relevé is a French term meaning "raised up." It is one of the basic ballet moves. The dancer starts in a demi-plié (a move where the dancer bends their knees halfway while keeping their feet on the ground) and then rises up into demi-pointe (on the balls of the feet) or en pointe (on the toes), either on one foot or both feet.
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“Let’s take it from the top, Y/N. More turned out this time. And your ‘wings’ aren’t flowy enough. You are the very Swan Princess, not a struggling cygnet. You die gracefully.”
You blew air threw your nose a little more forcefully than you usually would, trying your best to follow your ballet teacher’s instructions.
“Ah, Gwendolyn! So nice of you to join us.”
That statement was usually used sarcastically in most settings. So why did your teacher’s voice take on a note of adoration? You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, not even looking at the new arrival. All she ever did was drop into class half an hour late - without even doing her hair in a proper bun - and get showered with praises for everything she did. Always Gwen this, Gwen that. You were so sick of it.
“Gwen, if you decide to try out, you would be a perfect fit for the White Swan,” Your teacher eagerly told her, and your ‘flowy feathers’ tightened into fists. Just brilliant. In her eyes, you had no chance at Odette, did you? Once again, Gwendolyn Stacy would swoop in and snatch up something you had worked so hard for, spending hours upon hours on late nights at the studio practising alone, all because the teacher thought she was the next Anna Pavlova. But every time, you bit your tongue and kept your head down. One day, you would show them. You would show them all how good you were. And little Gwendolyn Stacy, the number one teacher’s pet, would watch and weep.
You cleared your throat to jolt your teacher out of her rambling. “Miss? My audition?”
She blinked as if she were just noticing you. “Ah, right. Yes, you may continue.”
You were ready to hurl your pointe shoes at both of their annoying faces, but you focused on making yourself extra turned out and extra graceful. Oh, how the tables would turn when you got this role.
You risked a glance out of the corner of your eye and noticed with a smug satisfaction that Gwen was staring at you, eyes wide. Completely enthralled.
Ha-ha, Gwendolyn Stacy. Look upon actual, hard-earned talent and despair.
You finished the Dying Swan - the Swan Lake piece you were doing for your audition - and bowed, standing in first position with your head held high.
“Thank you, Y/N. That was very nice. Everyone, let’s get started. Get your shoes on and get into your positions at the barre, please.”
Ugh, the barre positions. Your arch-nemesis, apart from a certain Gwen Stacy. Well, maybe not apart from her, since your barre position was right in front of her.
“One, two, three, four - hold, two, three four…”
You tuned out the voice of your ballet teacher; the exercise was purely muscle memory to you by now, and her voice was only distracting you at the moment.
“Hey, Y/N.”
You were pulled out of your intense focus by the voice behind you. Once you realised who it was, you had to resist the urge to scoff. “What is it?”
“I, uh… I just wanted to say that you did amazing. It was very graceful. You’ll make a good White Swan.” That almost made you lose your balance in a relevé and twist your ankle, because what?
Gwen Stacy thought that you’d get the role?
Oh. That was new.
Or maybe it wasn’t, and you were just imagining the whole ‘undeserving slacker’ thing and painting her as the bad guy…?
You almost giggled at that. Nah. This was definitely some ploy to get you to relax a little, to stop practising almost obsessively. Yeah, she was just trying to ensure you weren’t a threat. The moment you let down your guard, she would snatch up the role of Odette. You just knew it. Well, she could try all she wanted; you would not make it easy for her.
“Oh, I know,” You replied coolly, ending the exercise with everyone else and turning to offer her a politely bored smile. “But thank you.”
Gwen’s smile dropped a little and her eyebrows scrunched together slightly, her piercings glinting in the studio’s warm light. “Okay, well… I’ll see you around, I guess.”
She reached down and grabbed her duffel bag, unceremoniously dropping her teal pointe shoes into the mess of clothes and who knows what else she kept in it.
You kept your eyes on her until she disappeared out the studio’s door after a quick goodbye to the teacher. She was like a ghost, always appearing and flickering out just as quickly as one. And somehow always getting away with it, every single time. Not to mention… she was also somehow really good. Despite missing classes and coming late.
“Remember, class. Now that I’ve seen all your auditions, the roles will be up next week. Don’t be late,” your teacher called as you all left the building.
You kissed your teeth in annoyance. Yeah, don’t be late. Unless you’re Gwen Stacy.
Good grief, that girl would be the death of you.
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Taglist: (reply to be added!)
@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099
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tvgirlzz · 7 months
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Gwen Stacy x fem!reader
notes: did not proofread this but enjoy 😣 also the only story I’ve really written was an English assignment on a book so feel free to give critiques if you have any 😋👍
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“Sit still, Gwen!” You laughed as she moved uncomfortably.
Gwen had snuck into your window and while you were trying to decide what you wanted to make your art project on. Your teacher said it ‘had to be something close to you and not a random thing you traced from the internet.’ It was unbelievable the amount of times someone in your class used a dog they never met before for their project. Being the amazing girlfriend you are, you decided to make your project on her.
Which brings you to now, watching Gwen squirm uncontrollably on your bed.
“How long is this gonna take Y/N? I don’t think I can feel my butt anymore.” She complained, shifting around.
“Not long, I swear! Only a few more minutes.” Your brush delicately strokes, the light watercolors slightly dripping down the canvas. Painting beautiful pastel colors such as blue for her eyes, yellow to match her blonde hair, and topping it off with a pink and purple background.
Making sure to miss no detail, you picked up a small tipped brush. Carefully painting the small dots of her freckles, to the small, visible veins on her hands.
“Are you done yet? Lemme see!” She stood up, picking at the canvas in front of you.
“No! Sit down!” You lightly pushed her back down, moving her hands so she could pose again.
“It’s supposed to be a surprise. You can see the finished product once my teacher grades it.”
Setting the brush down, your eyes scanned all over the canvas. Sighing, you bit your lip nervously. This was good, right? You knew your art teacher was a hard critic but very easy on the grading. So why were you nervous?
“What’s wrong, babe?” Gwen furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to read your facial expression. She stood up and walked behind you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and laying her head on top of yours.
“If it makes you feel any better, I love it.” She knew you didn’t want her to see it yet, but she couldn’t help it. Your art was one of her favorite things about you. How different and unique it was.
“You weren’t supposed to see it yet..” You whispered in a downhearted tone.
She kissed the top of your head and hugged her tighter. “I know, but I can’t help myself. Your art is so beautiful.” Gwen was trying to cheer you up since she knew how much pressure you put on yourself to make these projects perfect.
“And your muse is pretty hot, don’t you think?” She smirked and poked your cheek.
Letting out a chuckle, you let your lips curve into a small smile. “Yeah, she is. The prettiest muse ever.” You move your head to look up at her.
She smiled back at her and gave you a sweet peck on the lips. “Don’t worry about this, okay? You’re the best artist ever and probably better than everyone in your class. I’ve seen some of those works and damn- it’s awful.”
“Maybe we’ve seen different works because everyone in my class is advanced.”
She gasped. “You call Ned’s self portrait advanced?!”
“That’s different, he’s just really bad at art.” You stood up from your stool, let Gwen’s arm slide off of you. Picking up the canvas, you move it to your desk where it can hopefully dry. Then, you felt Gwen grab your waist as she turned you around to look at her.
“I love you, alright? And if you don’t get a good grade on this, just know that I still think you’re the best artist in the world.” She placed one hand on your hip and the other resting on your cheek, stroking it lovingly with her thumb.
“I love you too.” You replied in a soft tone. She smiled at you and leaned down to give you a kiss.
Pulling away, she moved her hand down into your pants pocket. “Now come on, I want to lay down together and binge a show. That’s why I came here.”
“Alright, you can pick.” You handed her your tv remote and crawled into your bed. She hopped in after you and laid her head down on your chest, letting you run your fingers through her hair.
As you and Gwen spent the rest of the night watching 90’s television shows, your art project slowly dried on your desk. Leaving bright, colorful watercolor marks as Gwen’s painted face stood still on the canvas.
She was really the prettiest muse you could ever have.
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{ written by @loversrockxx please don’t steal 🙏🏽 }
157 notes · View notes
sspidrwebz · 4 months
Text
🎧 Airpods | Gwen x Fem!Reader 
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word count | 1785 notes | fluff, wlw, no physical desc of reader, no mention of y/n
also this is my first fic!! feel free to req anything or give me constructive criticism!!
fluff under the cut!! <33
You were bored and lonely this weekend, so you decided to make the relatively short journey to your friend Gwen’s house. Her dad was gone for what you could only assume would be most of the day, and you figured it would be nice to have some calming alone time with her.
Now, you’re both laying on her bed, sharing a pair of Airpods and listening to soft indie music together. You’ve been like this for a long time, staring at the ceiling without a word said for hours. That is, until you catch her staring at you with a faint smile on her face.
You can’t help smiling a bit back at her as you turn to face her. “What’re you smiling about?” you ask curiously.
There’s a certain brightness to her eyes that gives you a warm feeling. “Just looking at you,” she replies, before pausing for a few moments, looking into your eyes unblinkingly, a sort of calm focus on you. “Probably a little weird to say, but I've honestly never really had the chance to just stare at you, y'know?”
Your smile grows a bit wider at her answer, and you find yourself blushing a little. "O-Oh, well.. I suppose not, huh?" you agree with a flustered laugh, having been caught off guard by the comment.
"Mhm." She keeps smiling at you before looking out the window, seeming to think for a little bit in silence. "This is really nice, y'know?" She looks back over to you. "Just… us. Like this." And she motioned to both you and the bed. "This is probably the most relaxed I've felt in a while. It's nice being able to just exist next to you."
Her words create a warm feeling in your heart that you couldn't ignore if you wanted to, and for a minute you just look at her happily before sighing pleasantly and looking back up to the ceiling in thought. 
You two remain in the comfortable silence for a few moments before Gwen decides to speak up again, her voice soft and sweet. "This probably sounds stupid, but..." She sighs softly. "Is it alright if I hold your hand?" she mumbles, not looking over at you as if to hide her slight embarrassment at her own request.
The blush on your face is definitely noticeable after that, but your voice is still somewhat calm, calm enough to not be read as easily as your face. "Yeah, that's fine with me," you simply reply, letting your hand lay palm facing up on the bed as your arm reaches out for her.
Without even hesitating, she reaches out her hand to take yours. Immediately, she feels safe. There’s something about her best friend being so close, so warm, so comforting that makes her feel a little more at ease. Gwen squeezes your hand lightly and brings it slightly closer to her side, placing her free hand underneath it. It’s a small gesture, but a loving and tender one.
After a few minutes of more silence, you finally speak up again. When you do, your voice is soft and gentle, and you don't bother looking away from the ceiling as you talk to her. "You make me feel safe." There's a bit of a pause as you think to yourself. "I've always been the girl who just… I don’t know. It’s just hard to make, like- genuine friends, you know? I used to dream of having these kinds of moments with people, and I guess I’m just… really happy I get to have it with you."
Her lips curve up in a slightly embarrassed smile. She knows it’s cheesy as hell what she’s about to say and knows she’s going to cringe at herself afterwards, but she doesn’t care. "I always thought a boyfriend was supposed to be the one who made me feel safe, but if I'm being honest I've felt the most safe and at home with you." She squeezes your hand again. "I know that's probably so lame and cliche, but I can't help it. It's just the truth."
You snicker softly in response. "Can't relate to that much, especially since I'm gay as hell," I add with another slight laugh. "But I get what you mean, and... I'm glad we can be like that."
Gwen chuckles with you. Your response was unexpected, but it was a good mood lifter. She brings her thumb up to slowly run it along the outside of your hand and the top of your wrist. The movement is small, but it’s comforting.
"Do you think this is what a boyfriend feels like?" She asks you curiously. "I know some people say it's a completely different feeling between a friendship and, like- an actual relationship, but… the way we are kinda feels like one of those romance books sometimes.”
You shrug a little. "Maybe. I honestly wouldn't know. Never had a girlfriend myself, so I have no clue what romance even is at this point. My brain just kinda says 'women are cool' and just skips out on the instructions for how to get one or something.”
She chuckles again. "Same, honestly. I just look at girls and think they're cute." She paused, her brows furrowing in thought. "I've always wondered how it would feel to be with a girl. Like, is it that much different from being with a guy or…? I've never really had the balls to ask that question or test it myself so, there's that.”
You shrug again, thinking to yourself as I answer her. "I dunno. I mean, I always kinda hated men, so I'm kinda biased to make a statement on it. But if I were to guess, yeah; it's probably different. Maybe not too much, but enough."
She hums, her brows knitting again. "It's crazy that we're like, almost the same." She giggled and looked over at you with a playful smile. "Like, have you ever kissed a girl before?"
She hesitates. "Sorry, I know that's a loaded question but I'm trying to test this boyfriend feeling I have."
You nod with a smile, turning to her finally. "Yeah. Only once, though."
Gwen's heart speeds up as she tries not to get too excited with the answer you gave her. "I was hoping you would say that." She takes a deep breath. "Can I ask you to do something for me?"
I turn a little more toward her after she asks me this. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"
Gwen's cheeks pink instantly as she speaks her next words quietly. "Would you be willing to kind of… show me what it's like to kiss a girl? I've always wondered what it's like, and I trust you a lot so I know you probably won’t hate me if I ask..” She looks away from you slightly, embarrassed by her request. "Sorry if that's weird."
Your face goes red for a moment, but you smile in a bit of amusement to better hide your flustered state. "Oh! Well... well, do you want to? I can if you want me to, I just wanna, like... make sure."
Gwen's face lights up with relief and excitement. "Oh, yeah! I mean, if you're up to it." There’s a moment of silence, Gwen's eyes looking away from you while she’s thinking. Finally, she looks back over at you with a grin, getting closer to you on the bed. "Just… don’t make fun of me if I'm bad at this."
You chuckle softly. "Nah, I wouldn't do that to you," I say, smiling as I sit up from my spot for a moment. “Besides, everyone’s bad at romance and stuff at some point, right?”
She giggles quietly, bringing her face over towards you and closing the distance between them to mere inches. Her blue eyes, now with flecks of green in them when exposed to the sunlight from the window, stare directly into yours. Her lips look soft and pillowy, and she wants nothing more than to feel your mouth against hers, though she can’t quite tell why. "So… how is this supposed to work? Can I just kiss you, or… do we wait for the three seconds of staring like we’re in a Hallmark movie?”
 You can't help laughing again at her joke. "Don't be silly, Gwen, Hallmark doesn't have the balls to be gay," you say before going silent and just staring between her eyes and her lips, slowly leaning in.
Gwen's eyes close in anticipation as she feels you starting to lean in. Her heart is beating so fast it’s all she can feel. She’s so close that she can feel your breath against her lips. When you finally close the gap, your lips meeting hers with just enough pressure for you both to feel it. Gwen breathes out softly and lets a small moan slip out. The feeling of your lips against hers is electric. She feels like the world has temporarily stopped and that nothing exists but herself and you.
The sound she makes genuinely sends a shock through you, and a good one too. You kiss her slow and gentle, but there's something so intimate about the moment itself that you could never describe even with all the words in the world.
It’s as if she could feel every part of your body against hers. Your arms around her, your hands grazing against her body, your face touching hers. The moment is all she could think about. You were everything.
Her hands rest on the back of your neck as she tilts her head slightly to the side for the most optimal spot for kissing. It’s better than any romance movie, any kiss she’s ever had with a guy, any dream she's had about being with a woman. This is real and she couldn't be more grateful for it.
You could go on like this forever if you wanted to, but after a few more seconds you force yourself to slowly pull away from the kiss, from her, and as you do your eyes slowly open again and the entire time, they're locked on hers.
Up until now, the music in your ear had faded into the background, and your brain hadn’t been recognizing any other sound except your thoughts. But now, as you finally allow yourself to listen, eyes still locked on hers, you recognize the song almost immediately. Girls by Girl in Red. Of course. You smile widely.
“Gwendolyn Maxine Stacy, you listen to Girl In Red? And still thought you were straight?” you tease, nudging her very lightly. She just smiles back, face as red as yours, if not more. 
“I think it’s safe to say I’m definitely not.”
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im probably gonna do a hobie one next, so stay tuned if you wanna see that!! love yall, see ya soon!!
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hobvitr · 11 months
Note
I don't know if you do male reader too, but if not.. you can make a fic where a gn!reader help Gwen sleep? I'm also Brazilian too, my english is terrible and I don't know how to request anything-
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gwen stacy x reader
gn!reader
genre/warnings: fluff, angst, comfort, just a little blurb, unrevised writing, this is short, sorry :(
note: obrigada pelo pedido!! nos brasileiros temos que nos unir! sorry, i don't tend to do male reader because I don't know how to write from the male perspective :( so i prefer to do gn!reader so you can insert yourself whenever gender you are! recommended song: say yes to heaven - lana del rey
sinopses: gwen needs you so she can sleep.
you were already laying in your bed, your earphones on and scrolling through your social midias. it was 2:34am, so you just assumed all your friends and your girlfriend were asleep.
you heard the window of your room opening, making you turn your head abruptly to the side, taken by surprise at gwen's sudden appearance. you got out of your blankets, going to check up on her.
"are you okay? did something happened?" you asked, your voice low due the time of the morning. your arms coming to hug her and she did the same, sighing as her head nuzzled on your neck. "i can't sleep..."
you could hear the exhaustion in her voice, your expression dropping with worry for her health. "i can help you sleep" you said softly, now holding both her hands, looking at her with your head leaning slightly to the side. you hear her humming while nodding.
you took her by the hand to lay down with you. you manage to find a comfortable position, facing her. "sorry for bothering you..." she whispered, her hand on your waist, drawing little shapes involuntarily. "don't be sorry, baby, i'm here for you at every moment you need me." you comforted your girlfriend, your left hand going to caress her cheek.
"I'm happy you came to me so i can help you" you smiled softly at her, gaining a little grin in exchange. you got closer to her, holding her ever so tightly, but not much to make her uncomfortable. her face nuzzling between your shoulder and neck, taking in your scent. she was finally getting sleepy. "it's okay, you can sleep how much you need to, I'll be here when you wake up, okay?" you said, lips touching the top of her head, feeling the silky blonde hair.
"thank you, babe" she mumbled just loud enough for you to hear. "i love you" she whispered quietly making your heart sink in your chest. "i love you too" you whispered back.
you waited for her to fall asleep, which didn't take longer than 5 minutes at your presence, then you fell asleep too, with the her warmth and the blankets you were sharing. you blacked out till 8am, opening your eyes to be met with gwen's back. you smiled softly, seeing she was still there, asleep, with you. you hug her middle making her become the little spoon, face snuggling at the nape of her neck.
even asleep, her arms wrap above yours, being as close as possible to you, and she was surely dreaming about you, because she had a slight smile at her lips. you made her feel safe, strong and complete, she couldn't ask for anything more.
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tinkerbelle05 · 10 months
Text
And that's what makes this so tragic
Characters: Gwen Stacy x fem!reader
Genre: Angst
Summary: Gwen left you, she just cuts you off so you were forced to moved on. But you saw her again, and now you’re going to confront her.
Warning: Angst, grief over a relationship, arguments, lying
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It’s been a long year or so. You met a girl, fell in love with her, all for her to just leave you. With no warning, no phone number, or traces, she just leaves you.
It made you wonder if all those nights were fake and she was just saying words that she thought you‘ll like to hear.
“Your so pretty,” Gwen would compliment you. “You play your instruments so well. You are so talented.”
Were you so desperately lonely that you’ll clung to a beautiful stranger’s praises so easily? Is this all she took you for? A desperate lonely person?
When those thoughts had gotten so loud, when they have clearly overstayed their welcome, you’ll ground yourself with the little notes she’ll write for you.
The writing ultinsel of choice would change day to day. Sometimes a dull pen that's running out of ink, a pencil, or a bright orange sharpie. But her words were always the same. They were words of affirmation, comforting thoughts that showed you undeniable proof that she was there, that she existed.
That this love or attraction, or whatever people chose to label it existed too. It was present, real, and alive, if only for a fleeting moment.
It was also undeniable that she left as quickly as she came, however. And life would move on with or without you, so you had to move on too. It was the most heart-wrenching choice but the only option available. You tried to be content with her gorgeous smile and bright blue eyes existing only within the confines of your thoughts and music book. You will be content with it, eventually.
“It's good to see you out of the house, mija.” Ms. Morales greeted you with a kiss and a hug.
You smiled into her shoulder, “It’s good to be here, Mrs. Morales.” You look around, taking in the sights and sounds around you, someone was missing. “Hey, do you know where Miles is?”
Her soft smile melted into a straight line, “No, I haven’t but when I will….” The threat was obvious even though no words were said. “Let me know when you see him. For now, go eat something.”
Nodding your head, you made your way through the crowd of people and to where the food was. Hot steam flows from the abundance of vegetables and meat. You can smell the multiple seasonings and spices that must have been used in their creation.
You grabbed a paper plate and made sure to get one of each. You balanced that, with a can of soda, and your phone. You sat down and dug into the food, enjoying the atmosphere around you. You were enjoying yourself when you saw familiar blond hair. You heard that laughter, that voice.
Your heart stopped and you strained your ears to hear more. Maybe you were mistaken, maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. It’s been a while. But still you had to make sure.
Could that be Gwen?
You placed your plate and soda can down, and looked over. There were two people under the tower, you definitely heard Miles’ voice. You felt weird eavesdropping but you had to know if it was her.
And it was. It was her.
Her haircut was the same half-shaven length she had before. She claimed she did it spontaneously and she wanted a dramatic new look. She was wearing a familiar oversized sweater. You couldn't breath. It's like everything around you disappeared. All you saw was Gwen, the way she smiled, the way she laughed. You felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest and you wanted to run to her. To hug her, to tell her how much you missed her.
She left you.
And with that high came the low. You remember how you felt when you discovered that she left. You felt lost, confused, betrayed. You half thought that you imagined Gwen.
“Gwen!” You yelled for her and watched as she turned around in shock. She smiled at you but that changed when she saw how angry you were.
You didn't give her the chance to say anything, “Where the hell were you?!”
Miles looked between the two of you, “Uh how do y’all know each other?”
You glared at him but softened up a bit. You were not mad at him so it makes no sense to blow up at him. You take a deep breath, “Miles, I need to talk to Gwen right now. And afterward I'll explain, okay?”
Miles looked between the two of you again and nodded then left. Now it was just the two of you, the music faded into the background as tension took the forefront.
“I can explain,” Gwen said quickly. “I know that your angry at me, and you have every right to. But please let me explain to you.”
You stared at her. She looked sincere enough so you nod. As angry as you were, you were also wildly curious. The question kept you up at night, where did she go and why?
You two found a pair of steps that were secluded from the party, giving you two privacy. Both of you sat on the stoop with a generous amount of space between you. You wanted to be calm about this. You were beyond angry and hurt but maybe she had a half decent reason for leaving.
“Well, Gwen?” You prompted her.
You watch as she takes a deep breath, “I…I was in some trouble. Family issue and stuff. That’s why I left in a rush and didn’t talk to you.”
She was lying.
It wasn’t something you knew deep inside of you or whatever. She had a tell. She’s tapping her fingers on her knees. When you two were in the beginning of your relationship, whenever you told her you liked something she’ll say that she liked it too. The lies were convincing but she couldn’t elaborate on why she liked that tv show or book, and she would tap her knees. Like she’s doing right now.
Those were little white lies of a girl who was trying to be liked by someone so you didn’t really mind. But this. This was different. You took the time to hear her out and all she could do was lie to you. And to your face at that.
“Gwen,” you tried to keep your voice from breaking like your heart was doing right, you tried not to cry, knowing that you would not stop, “you are lying to me right now. Your tapping your knee, which means your lying.”
Silence engulfs the two of you as Gwen mulled on what are you had said to her. You were tired of this. So, so tired. You had imagined your reunion with Gwen multiples with multiple scenarios. None of them were about her lying to you, and none were about how heartbroken you were.
“Listen, I’m-“ Gwen starts but you put your hand to stop her. You didn’t want to hear anymore of her lies. You couldn’t stomach it. You just couldn’t.
You got up from the stoop and dusted yourself off. With your back turned to Gwen, you left her with these final words, “Gwen, I don’t know why you left or why you felt like you had to lie to me. But I…I feel like we should probably stop talking for right now.”
With some courage you turned your head to see that Gwen was crying with you. She attempts to get closer but you maintain your distance. “We had so many good memories, and I do not want them to be overshadowed by the lies and the secrets.”
Gwen shakes her head and doesn’t bother wiping the tears, “No, please. I messed up I know, I know. But please. I still like you, please.”
“And that's what makes this so tragic. Goodbye, Gwen.” Was all you could say to her and you walked back to the party putting on a fake smile.
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1-danid · 9 months
Text
A torn sheet of crumpled paper landed in your lap. Their was only one person brave enough to pass notes in Miss Smiths class. The one and only Gwen Stacy who seemed to always be Smiths favourite no matter what she did. As much as you wanted to ignore the letter you could feel Gwen's intense gaze on you as she waited for you to open the letter.
Soon enough you were passing the same note back and forth, the lesson long forgotten.
Blue is Gwen, Pink is you.
When you told me you we're a fan of villains in mask I didn't think you'd send me Ghost Spider edits.
Gwen. Mrs Smith is gonna catch us.
No she won't live a little. Since when do you like ghost spider? Isn't she like a murder?
I've always liked her doofus. You've just never asked. And Ghost Spider isn't a murder she saved my aunts dog. Anyone who saves the dogs is a hero in my eyes.
You know. Your the weirdest friend I have.
Yeah but I'm your favourite. Now stop before we get a detention, again.
Gwen chuckled as she placed the note in her jacket pocket. You were always full of surprises. Maybe Ghost Spider would have to pay her biggest fan a visit. After all you were special to Gwen.
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futureplayboibunnie · 9 months
Text
Aphrodesiacs PT. 5
Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader
You and Miguel were bitten by the same spider….what could possibly happen?
bro i hit 600 followers three days ago and now i’m at 1,000? wtf thats insane i love u.
NSFW AS ALWAYS 18+
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It was months since you saw Miguel.
Well, thats what it felt like. In reality it was just 3 days.
Honesty was never a big deal with you, but when you promised Miguel you’d kill him the next time you saw him: you felt it in every cell to be true. It was delusion kicking into mass hysteria at this point. What was startling though and quite frankly alarming was that Miguel believed you.
You were akin to that of a bloodied and mauled rabid dog when he saw you last, he had never seen your face look so ashen and convincing. Normally, when you were away from him, your cheeks were stained pink as you enertained whoever you were talking to, you were happy. He was taking that away from you and he was beginning to feel slivers of guilt make home in his chest. So he did what he had to.
You were stood looking like an idiot in your apartment, fiddling with your interdimentional watch, slapping it and messing about with it to the point you were sure you were breaking it further. That was until a blaring orange screen showed up: Access Denied. You ogled at the glitchy words like a shell shocked fool, that look soon dissipated into an indignant frown. Miguel…again. Of course.
You threw the object closest to you at the wall, a large gaping crack left in the wall due to sheer force of your poisonous indifference. You sighed heavily as a disgruntled sound fell from your throat. That dick was cutting you off entirely, your needed to get back in the lab, all of the materials you lacked here were there.
You didn’t learn your lesson.
You wanted to see him.
You said you’d kill him if you did and right now you were contemplating it.
But he put his foot down and pushed you out, forcing you away which was counterproductive as it made you want to see him more. You groaned in frustration: what the fuck is wrong with you? It was like you were all for yet going against every intuition and feeling in your body, you wanted one thing and felt another and all it did was leave you bewildered mess in heat.
How could you contact him?
No, you definitely shouldn’t.
You’d just cause more problems relating to this.
But you needed answers.
Fuck.
An embittered look crept on your face as your finger hovered over the button that called Lyla. If you couldn’t contact Miguel…you’d just use Lyla and your incredible convincing skills. You pressed it and she popped up looking happy and over her head as usual.
“If this is about your restriction-“ She sighed, rolling her eyes in the process.
“Well yes. I need to talk to Miguel about it.” You winced, not entirely believing yourself and she just raised an eyebrow at you.
“Hm.” She muttered under her breath. “You’ve definitely talked enough recently.”
“Look. I know Miguel told you he didn’t want to see me at all and I get it, hell, I’m trying to get through it too. But he needs to answer some questions I have a right to know.” You raked a hand over your exhaused face and breathed out heavily as you met her look. “I just need to speak to him, I don’t need to see him. Fuck, I don’t want to see him because I’d kick his teeth in. Maybe just give me his phone number or something?” You cringed internally as you said it. No one was close with Miguel let alone had his phone number, Lyla looked like she saw a ghost.
“Like as in calling him? On the phone? Old fashioned? God, humans are so strange. All this tech and you want to call him on the…phone?” The mention of something so menial such as a phone made Lyla retch back in digust and all you could do is look at her unimpressed at her overreaction. “I mean I guess you aren’t actually near each other…and I love scaring Miguel shitless so…yeah okay.”’ She brightened up at the idea or irritating Miguel, she showed an orange screen of a smattering of numbers. Your face cleared of cloudiness as she showed it on screen. “Be quickkkkk. I’m leaving in 10 seconds.” She giggled. You haphazardly lunged to your desk to find a sticky note to write the numbers on, you almosr fell to the goddamn floor.
“5, 4, 3…” Lyla taunted and you finally grabbed a pen and wrote the numbers down on a note.
“Good. Now go away.” You mumbled breathlessly.
“You’re just like Miguel.” She then disappeared to where she came from. You pondered the words she left ungracefully hanging in the air, the thought made you shiver grotesquely.
You clutched onto the sticky note with those fated numbers on it and you honestly felt like a teenager who finally got her crushes number. Pacing around the room seemed like a great option. Your feet went wild, staring into space then back at the numbers. Okay, okay. Just call him. Give him a piece of your mind. Self soothing didn’t work. Just do it, just call him. This is a healthy way of communicating since you couldn’t just show up and speak to him. Adrenaline and fear pumped your veins raw as you put his number into your phone. You raised your phone to your ear and heard the defeaning and soul eating dial.
-
Miguel was at home for once, just trying to occupy himself in an environment that didn’t have eyes poring all over him and every move he made. He was trying to get some sleep after all the agitation you put him through, but he was failing terribly, again.
It felt like having you was the only thing he was put on this Earth for. His bare chest tightened at the thought. All that was sketched onto in his peripheral was that fucking picture. You looked like a wet dream. Fuck, you were just perfect. Your pussy was begging to be pounded and he couldn’t wait until-
His phone lit up the black of his nightstand.
Miguel opened his eyes as he saw the screen brighten and the blaring of a ringtone he’s long forgotten. He was astonished even though his eyes were seeped in tiredness. This was so odd. He barely ever used his phone, even for hookups, he’d fuck them and then ditch the number. Miguel stared at the white of the screen and the black outside, only lit by a few orange streetlamps that seemed to creep in through his blinds. He groaned as he grabbed his phone and stared at it, it was an unknown number, is this was a cold caller he would rip their head off with his teeth and spit it out into a gutter.
Miguel rubbed his eyes and answered, holding the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He said in a strained, raspy voice- it wasn’t quite obvious that he was trying to sleep.
You felt yourself gush when you heard his voice, your mouth popped open into a gape, you winced but kept a normal voice. “Miguel?”
His eyes glazed open wide as he heard your voice, what the fuck? How did you get his number? Why were you doing this? A wild amount of questions shot through his head but he was confused and didn’t know how to handle it, the majority of him was exhausted and seething. He leaned up and spoke. “Y/N?” He attempted to sound calm but he wasn’t convincing. “How did you find-? Whatever. Don’t call me. Ever. Again.” He gritted through clenched teeth.
“Lyla.” You said in a clipped tone.
Of fucking course.
“Stop using your damn power to fawn over me and restrict me from using the damn watch you gave me.” You were chafed you even had to say this.
Miguel sat on the edge of his bed and plaved his feet on the cold marble, his elbows dug into the skin of his thighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out the signature annoyed huff. “You know exactly why I had to do that.”
You paused and bit your lip, pacing around your room, reminding yourself that you’re barely even clothed right now. Your tank top and sleep shorts barely covered anything and you were still feeling searing hot by his voice alone.
“Stop… Just stop.” It was just above a whimper and Miguel’s ears pricked up the sound. Fuck, your voice was like velvet. “Miguel…we were honest with each other once before. We can do it again.” You breathed against the phone and it was taking everything in him to not moan at the pretty sound. “We shouldn’t be close to each other. I fucking know but…are you shutting me out of the society completely?” Your lip quivered at the mere idea.
Miguel was taken aback. He really didn’t know what to say or do about this now. Being honest or lying didn’t seem to do him any favours at this point. “Don’t ask me that. Please…just don’t.” His voice was so close to breaking but he was dampened by such a pure need for you it was distracting as fucking always.
You both sat in silence, hearing each other’s soft sweet breath on the line. Waiting for the other to break such a tense yet natural thing. Miguel could hear you lick your lips, every shift of that tongue and pretty mouth.
“Do you still want me?” You said flatly, so damn nonchalant like you weren’t even realising what you were talking about.
Miguel was left speechless for a solid 60 seconds. Are you dumb? He wanted just leave and kick your door down, rip all your clothes off and not let you leave for an entire weekend. He would mark every inch of your skin up to show everyone who you belonged to, he wouldn’t be soft at all and you would fucking love it. He’d pump you full of his cum.
“That’s a very stupid question.” He grunted huskily. His talons dug into the sides of his mattress as he said it. You heard the way he was holding back and it made you that much more desperate.
“You told me that it was manageable. How are you managing Miguel?” It was like you were taunting him, waiting for a big fat massive ‘I told you so.’
“I’m finding my own ways of coping.” He stipulated, fingers trembling into the mattress at your words. His dick was rock hard in his boxers at just hearing you breathe against the phone. He felt pre-cum leak from his tip.
“Hm. Like just so happening to know that I take nudes of myself and send them to my fuckbuddies.” You hummed, catching him out with that teasing cock stimulating voice of yours. Miguel swallowed thickly as you called him out.
“It’s 2099 here. Fuckbuddies aren’t taboo, sending nudes isn’t either.” He didn’t directly answer the question, he wrapped it up in a lie that it was normal and he just guessed that you did not that he literally violated your privacy.
“Then why do you not want me to send them anymore.” You whispered on the phone and the sensation of hearing such a honeyed voice made him shudder. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, exasperated but voice calm.
“Because it should be me seeing you like that. Only me.” He avowed in an unexpected admission. Your eyes fluttered shut as you heard it, exactly what he wanted to hear. You paused and your silence scared him.
“Did you like it?” You asked sweetly and he thought he could’ve came right then and there. He could just…slip his hand down and touch himself as you talked. God, he could. He wanted to so bad.
“You have no idea.” He rasped out and you tried to gulp down your arousal, instead it arose out in words.
“Miguel, I get wet just listening to you talk.” You said softly, not even ashamed anymore.
“Whenever you say my name I think my dick wants to snap in half.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this then.” He could feel you smiling lazily, your tone deceptive and teasing. You didn’t want to stop at all.
“Yeah we really shouldn’t.” Miguel teased back, his voice low and inherently dishonest.
“I won’t call you again then.” You smiled sweetly, eyes half lidded and flirty. “Let’s just say that this was… a little moment of weakness between us. We can go back to avoiding each other later.”
“I wonder how we’ll manage.”
“You better get rid of my restriction on my watch too.”
-
yoooo. I’m not gonna be able to post anything in the next week bc I’m on holiday and I probs won’t have wifi. I’m still writing chapters I just dk when I’m gonna be able to post it. I know i edge yall but this specifically isn’t on purpose I swear forgive meeee.
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taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @l3laze @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house @defnot-bri @awkward-d3rs3-dramer @hasai69 @unnisumi @irongardenermaker @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n @ro99se @nxrdamp @mrssabinecallas @jesmynsjoys @spiderman2099sgf @xiylio @leahnicole1219 @reine-sans @tallmanlover @neverlandlostchild @axerrri @frieschan @plzfeedmebread @rorel1a
2K notes · View notes
goosetheluce · 8 months
Text
silver stars (Gwen Stacy x Fem!Reader)
requested by anon: Gwen Stacy x fem!reader where the reader is just obsessed with Gwen’s eyebrow piercing??
info: established relationship, fluff, physical affection
a/n: we all just need a little more Gwen fluff in our lives, don't you think
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
"I think if you stare just a little longer, I might actually notice."
"Huh? Oh!"
Gwen's sarcasm cut through your zoned out stare. She tapped her fingertips along with the beat of the song you shared in your ears.
A smirk settled on her lips when she realized you were staring. Heat flushed into your cheeks at being caught.
"What am I supposed to do? Not stare at you?" you retorted eventually, letting your arm fall over her shoulders as you sat on her bed. She shrugged you off playfully and turned to face you.
"That's what's considered socially acceptable, yeah," she teased. You rolled your eyes.
"I'm not exactly sure that we're in a social situation right now," you huffed. You directed your attention elsewhere, opting to bask in the comfort of your girlfriend's room. Band posters littered the walls, and the hardwood floor was swept clean of dust and debris. Even though you couldn't see it, you knew her suit was hidden somewhere safe.
"Hey, I mean, if you like it so much...you can pick another piece out for me to wear," she offered. She brushed the longer side of her hair behind her ear instinctively. She'd never allowed someone to pick something out for her. Gwen always went her own way; at least, until you.
"Wait, for real? Show me."
She leaped up gracefully from her bed and glided towards her dresser. She pulled out the top drawer and gently lifted a box full of accessories. You watched with curious eyes as she popped the locks open and revealed a two layer stack of jewelry.
"Wow," you remarked, thoroughly impressed. You wondered how much money she'd spent on all of it.
You scanned the collection, full of silvers and chocolate golds. Gwen's finger pointed to a particular chunk of the layout. It was seemingly dedicated to eyebrow piercing attachments.
"Take your pick," she chirped before sitting down at her desk, flipping the switch to a light-up mirror. You watched as she ran her hand along her shaved half, then tousled the rest of her locks. You let out a small hum of adoration when she slicked it all back with her digits.
You paid attention to the decision at hand. You loved how silver looked on Gwen's cool-toned skin; it matched perfectly with her sky blue eyes. You flipped through the rows of attachments until a pair caught your eye. They were polished silver stars that glinted in the sunlight pouring through Gwen's window. You carefully extracted them and latched the box's locks closed.
You walked over to Gwen and she beckoned for you to sit in her lap. Your heart raced as you lowered yourself onto her strong thighs, holding out the attachments in your hand.
"I, uh, thought these fit you pretty well," you explained as she brought your hand closer to inspect the stars. She looked up with her adorable gapped smile and nodded.
"I forgot I had these, honestly. They're damn cute, though."
She laid back in the chair and held your hips with her hands. Your pulse pounded as you carefully removed the metal balls intricately twisted onto her piercing. You slid the stars onto the curved barbell, pressing them firmly in place. They perfectly complimented her fun and confident personality.
"Et voila," you beamed dramatically as Gwen swiveled in her seat to check herself out in the mirror. She leaned over your body and titled her head to side, favoring her right eyebrow.
"Huh," she remarked. "This is great! I can't believe I haven't worn these before."
"You look fantastic," you agreed, staring at yourself sitting on her lap in the mirror. She squeezed you in her warm arms gently as she met your eyes in the mirror. She turned to see you right in front of her and craned her neck to press a kiss to your forehead.
"Thanks, (Y/N)."
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
265 notes · View notes
normspellsman · 1 year
Text
Take Me With Her
“She Is Mine” Lo’ak Version
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part one | part two
pairing: lo’ak x fem!human!reader
genre: angst, forbidden secret relationship, tiniest bit of fluff, no comfort at all, & violence
word count: 4.1k+ (don’t…just don’t)
warning(s): hissing, lo’ak calling reader babygirl (eeekkk), mentions of death + injury, death threats, lo’ak being possessive, kidnapping, cursing, suggestive tones, brief neck kissing, quaritch being a creep (ewww), reader thinking that she’s going to die, everyone being terrified, spider + lo’ak thinking about killing quaritch, & lo’ak crying
taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @optimisticblazetrash @goodiesinthecloset21 @liyahsocorro @universal-s1ut @minkyungseokie @amortencjja @chshshhshshshshshshshs
word bank: yawne — beloved, paskalin — honey (term of endearment), eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, sa’nok — mother, sempul — father, & prrnen — baby
note: spider, kiri, lo’ak, & reader are aged up to around the age of seventeen. it just makes more sense given the timeline i had in my head & with what i wrote. also going to be two parts hehe 🤭
Giggles erupted from your throat, your shoulder coming up instinctively to hide your neck from the ticklish attacks your boyfriend was doing to your delicate skin. You were almost confident that he even left some marks on the dips of your collarbones from his nipping.
Lo’ak whined in protest, attempting to burrow his face deeper into the crook of your neck.
“Yawne,” he whimpered, rubbing his cheek against your pulsepoint once he finally broke through your insistent hiding of your neck. “Can’t I show my love to my babygirl?” He whined, yet again.
You huffed in response, not sure if it was from annoyance or the proximity of your lovers face from your neck.
“No, Lo’ak. It is getting late and we must get back,” you replied, finally coaxing him out from your neck.
The Na’vi boy in front of you pouted, tightening his grip on your waist as he looked up at you from your position on his lap. Your thighs were on either side of Lo’ak’s waist causing you to kneel as he rested in between your legs.
“Just a few m’re minutes,” he pleaded, diving back into your neck as he gently ghosted his lips against the soft flesh and puckered his lips against it.
You gave out a small sigh, hands going up to the back of Lo’ak’s head and into his braids. “Sure,” you replied, making your boyfriend's tail perk up and wag back and forth from behind him, “Later. When we go home.”.
Lo’ak let out a frustrated groan, burying his face into your neck again and taking a deep inhale of your scent before reluctantly pulling away. A pout made its way to his face again.
“Fine,” he mumbled, standing up with you still in his tight hold.
“Lo’ak!” You squealed out, increasing your grip on his shoulders so as to not fall from his arms. He was such a pain in your ass sometimes.
The boy smirked at your response, bringing you a bit higher in order to be face to face with him, “Yes?”.
“Put me down you big oaf!” You demanded, slightly glaring at your smirking boyfriend, “And don’t drop me either! Gently put me down.”. You knew how Lo’ak worked during his teasing moments, it was always too obvious what he was thinking when the thought came across his mind. There were too many times where he playfully let you go and wasn’t quick enough to catch you, resulting in you harshly landing on your ass.
“Sure thing, princess,” he obeyed, gently placing you down onto the Pandora floor and kissing the crown of your head. “Better?” He asked.
Simply rolling your eyes at him, you shook your head and began to walk away, hoping to find Spider or Tuk to spread the message that you needed to start heading back home before eclipse began.
“Ugh. Baby, wait!” Lo’ak called out, quickly gathering his bow before swiftly following after you, tail swishing behind him as he did so.
———
Everything that could go wrong, went wrong.
First, Lo’ak stumbled upon strange footprints, tracking them to the forbidden shack, a place where Jake warned you guys repeatedly to never go. Then, Jake ordered all of you to fall back and head back to the stronghold. After that, it was going smoothly. Kiri and Lo’ak were bickering back and forth about how much trouble the boy was going to be in while Spider and you trailed behind Tuk, before she was snatched up by an RDA Avatar. Lo’ak had thrown himself in front of you, hiding your much shorter frame from the enemy soldiers' sights as he bared his fangs and drew back his bow. But that didn’t last long until an unwelcome figure came up behind you and roughly pulled you back by your hair, making you yelp out in response. Which led to where you were now, struggling in an Avatar’s tight grip as Quaritch began to eye all five of you.
“Show me your hands boy,” he demanded, striding up to Lo’ak as the boy was forced to kneel before the man.
Lo’ak only lifted up both of his middle fingers to Quaritch as his response, causing the man to reach behind the boy and harshly pull at his queue. Lo’ak hissed out in response to the pain, growling as his eyes shot daggers into Quaritch’s skull.
You shouted out in protest, beating your hands against the soldiers skin in attempts to force them to let go of you. But that only caused their grip on your hair to tighten, you whimpering out in response.
Your boyfriend's ears drew back at your expression of pain, letting out a little snarl as you went quiet.
Anxiety erupted within Lo’ak’s body as his eyes darted to both of his sisters to Spider and to you, lingering on you the most. Which proved to be something he shouldn’t have done as Quaritch caught onto the boys staring, slowly turning around and following his gaze.
Fuck, you thought when Quaritch made eye contact with you, gulping at his blank yet wild amber eyes. Holy shit, I’m going to die.
The thought was so abrupt in your mind, scaring you with how fast it formed. Everything about Quaritch and the situation you were put into terrified you. You always felt safe around other Na’vi, even Neytiri at times. But there was just something about the armed soldiers surrounding you that made you want to crawl within yourself and never come out. Every move they made, made you think it was going to be your final moments on Pandora. You just hoped that if it was, they had the decency to take you out of eyesight and do it then. You didn’t want the others, especially Lo’ak and Tuk, to see the potential violent scene.
The minute Quaritch switched his attention from Lo’ak to you, the teen boy snarled at the man, challenging him to do anything to you. There was no way that Lo’ak would even allow Quaritch to touch a singular hair on your head. Over my dead fucking body, he internally seethed.
A cackle escaped the Colonel's lips, tightening his grip on the boy's queue before turning back to the five-fingered boy. An unsettling smile etched itself onto the man’s lips as he slightly bent down to face Lo’ak, ears pinning back to the sides of his head.
“That your girl boy?” He asked, a smirk evident on his face. Lo’ak wanted to claw that smirk off his face. How dare he speak of you? Of his mate? Quaritch was pushing at Lo’ak’s buttons and he knew it. And it was working.
“How does that even work? I mean, she’s so much smaller than you. Very fragile too,” he taunted, pulling the back of Lo’ak’s head back, making him cry out in pain. “Be a shame if-” he started, but was caught off by a loud growl and hiss.
“Shut the fuck up!” Lo’ak sneered, “Keep her out of your fucking mouth.”.
Another cackle left the Colonel’s mouth, tongue gliding over his new sharp teeth before unsheathing the knife from his hip, holding it up inches away from the teen boys chest.
“No! Please! Don’t hurt him!” You yelled out, thrashing around in the soldiers grasp, ignoring the stinging in your scalp with every tug.
“Aw, that’s sweet. She’s begging me to not hurt you,” Quaritch commented, eyes glued on Lo’ak’s face, studying his expression. “I wonder what other kinds of begging she can do,” he grinned, eyes dark and sinister.
“Fuck you!” Both Lo’ak and Spider yelled out, angry at the man’s comment. The words coming out of his mouth was disgusting. It may have been socially okay to speak about women like that back on Earth, but on Pandora, women were treated with respect and praised. Both boys held you dear to their hearts. Lo’ak and Spider were going to kill Quaritch when they got the chance for the way he talked about you.
Spider and you have always been close. Being the only teenage humans on Pandora was hard but you had each other to lean on. Over the years, he became extremely overprotective over you, especially when it regarded a certain blue skinned boy. He always viewed you as family. He’d do anything to ensure that you were safe if it was deemed necessary. You may not be his sister by blood but he sure as hell treated you as if you were. So, hearing Quaritch’s words, he wanted to rip the man’s head off his body and put it on a stick as a warning for whoever else dared to speak such obscenities about his sister.
Lo’ak and you have been together for nearly two years, being close friends for way longer than that. He loved you since the day he met you and always treated you the way you deserved to be treated, with gentleness and kindness and respect. Never had he ever thought such vile innuendos Quaritch had hinted at. The older man was disgusting for thinking such things about a seventeen year old girl, especially one that was already called for. In Na’vi culture, it was a disgrace for one to talk about any women that way, mated or not. Lo’ak was raised to respect the women in his clan and those he came into contact with. So, having Quaritch talk about you in a way that made you want to throw up and sparked intense anger within Lo’ak’s system, made him want to repeatedly stab the man in front of him and watch the life leave his eyes. No one was allowed to speak about you in such ways. Not if Lo’ak had anything to do with it.
“Don’t talk about her in that way,” Spider growled out, struggling in the grips of the two soldiers that held onto him. (It was impressive that the human boy needed two Avatar soldiers to hold him back. His strength was closely compared to a regular Na’vi’s.)
Quaritch let go of Lo’ak, allowing the original soldier who had him in his grip to return to his previous position. He quickly turned around to face the both of you, your stomach dropping at his gaze.
“What’s your name, sugar?” He asked, crouching down to your level. You wanted to throw up on the spot from the nickname. It made you sick.
“Don’t fucking talk to her!” Spider snapped, achieving in getting closer to you and in Quaritch’s eyesight.
Quaritch quickly glanced towards Spider, lips forming into a thin line.
Before Quaritch or any of the other soldiers could do anything, you answered his question robotically.
“(Y/N) Selfridge.”.
The man before you stilled. He hasn’t heard that name in a long time.
“You’re Parker’s kid?” He asked, eyes slightly wide in shock. He didn’t know that Parker had a special lady during his time on Pandora. The man never seemed to be the one that was interested in that kind of stuff. Too busy trying to get the rare metal from underneath the very ground he stood on.
“No,” you spat, disgust evident in your voice, “I’m his niece. He dragged his sister, my Mother, to this planet years before the Na’vi won the Great War. She died giving birth to me after the battle.”.
Your explanation struck something within Quaritch. Parker mentioned a sister in passing during their very few and limited conversations. He never thought that Parker would bring her along to Pandora nor did he ever think that he’d leave her on the foreign planet alone to give birth. But, yet, he did almost the same thing to Paz and his son, Miles.
“What about you boy?” Quaritch asked, nodding at the human boy next to you. There were very limited surnames that went through the Colonel’s head as he waited for the boy to speak, his being one of them.
“Spider…Socorro,” he replied, hesitancy laced in his voice.
Quaritch’s heart stopped, “Miles?”, he asked.
Spider pierced his lips, eyes darting across the older man’s face as he stared up at him, “No one calls me that anymore,” he responded.
Quaritch was shocked, to say the least. He’d thought that they’d send him on the next available ship back to Earth. Albeit him being only a couple of months old, he still thought that there’d be a possibility that his son would go back to his Fathers home planet.
“I thought they sent you back to Earth,” Quaritch commented, voice slightly shaking, void of all the cocky confidence he had prior.
“They can’t put babies in cryo, dipshit,” Spider spat, fists tightly balling up at his sides. Surely his ‘Father’ couldn’t be that stupid. He should’ve known that there was no way for Spider to go back to Earth, to a planet where he’d have no one. Pandora is and always will be Spider's home.
An uncomfortable silence fell upon the group as seconds passed by. Meeting his long lost son seemed to throw him off, messing up his mojo. It was clearly evident on his face and in his body language. He seemed more tense and unsure of what he was doing.
The silence was broken by a voice erupting from behind you, “What should we do, boss?”.
As soon as the emotions from Spider’s confession of his surname came, they left just as quickly. Quaritch was back to the way he was before. “Tie ‘em up. Looks like we got ourselves some prisoners,” he responded, preparing himself to call in his position to Ardmore.
The rest of the soldiers exclaimed in agreement, slapping restraints onto the children they had captured and throwing them all into a circle near the shack.
The soldier that had you in their grip had harshly thrown you to the floor, causing you to groan out from the hard contact with the forest floor. They laughed at your reaction, taking a few steps back to talk with his fellow comrades.
Lo’ak had quickly scurried to your side, hissing at the soldier that threw you like you were a rag doll. His body was positioned in front of yours in a crouch, the tense muscles of his back being the only thing you saw before he abruptly turned around and brought you into his embrace, checking over every inch of your skin to see if there were any new cuts or scrapes he should be worried about.
You didn’t say anything as you tried your best to pull yourself closer into your boyfriend's body, the restraints on your wrists preventing you from wrapping your arms around his neck in comfort. Your brain was still trying its best to process the previous events that occurred.
Lo’ak could sense the tension in your body and how your brain was scrambling to pull itself together. So he brought you closer into his arms, bringing his tied wrists up and over your body before settling them against your back, pulling you into his chest and lap.
“It’s alright, paskalin,” he reassured, tucking your masked face into his neck, “I got you. I got you.”.
———
When Spider had nudged you and turned his head ever so slightly to you, eyes darting behind you where Lo’ak stood a few feet behind, you knew that Neytiri and Jake arrived. It was the slightest change in pitch of a call that drew your attention to the trees. Neytiri, you realized. Lo’ak had taken it upon himself to teach you all the callings and ululatings his Sa’nok had come up with, telling you which meant what. You supposed his late night lesson all those months ago came in handy at this moment.
Your head harshly jerked back from the soldier pulling at your hair, once again. He didn’t like it when you guys would interact with each other and decided that pulling at your hair and Kiri’s queue was the best option to teach you to not speak to the others.
Fucking dick, you thought to yourself, restraining yourself from turning around in the soldiers grip and sinking your dull teeth into the flesh of his arm. See how he’ll like it.
A low growl was heard from behind you, Lo’ak glaring at the man who yanked at your hair. He was beginning to itch to choke out the man who had your beautiful and soft hair in his hold. It made him angry that someone like him was touching you in a way that brought you pain. Made him want to bring you into arms and hold you like a prrnen. He wanted to kill anyone and anything that caused you harm.
The distinct yip echoed throughout the forest yet again, your eyes darting to where the Na’vi woman could possibly be. Neytiri may have not liked you and you may have a very strained relationship but you were overjoyed in the moment that she and Jake were here to save the lot of you. You found yourself thanking your lucky stars and the Great Mother for the fierce couple.
From Spiders left, you could hear Kiri begin to pray aloud to Eywa, muttering her words only loud enough for the soldier and the boy beside you to hear. In retaliation to Kiri’s mumbles, the soldier began tugging at her sensitive queue, causing you and Spider to follow with the harsh tugs as he also held both of your hair in his grip.
“Shut up!” He harshly whispered, getting annoyed with the girl's constant rambling. The more Kiri prayed, the more he tugged and demanded her to shut her mouth. Eventually, his command was cut off with a sharp thwick and an arrow lodged into his skull.
Chaos erupted from around you as the man behind you dropped to the forest floor dead. Guns began to go off, forcing you to duck as Spider grabbed both you and Kiri and pushed forward. You ran behind Spider as he followed after Kiri, restrained hands on the lower part of her back to keep her moving forwards but she was pulled back by another soldier.
Spider stopped his movements, which caused you to run into his back, hands going out to grip his hips to steady yourself.
Everything was going too fast. You could barely process what happened to Kiri before she was by your side again, the soldier who grabbed her slumped over with an arrow in her chest. Gassy smoke was spraying everywhere as RDA soldiers ducked behind whatever they could to hide from the onslaught of arrows Neytiri was shooting at them from her advantage point. Before you knew it, Spider began to pull at your handcuffs, urging you to follow him and Kiri as they began to retreat into the thick foliage of the forest. Your brain barely had time to process it all before the three of you were hurriedly crossing over a connecting branch to another tree.
You felt it before you heard it. The hot air and stinging of your skin as you went flying forward into Spider's back before the two of you ultimately fell and tumbled down the hill underneath the overpass that was just blown up from whatever weapon a soldier shot at it. Pain was all you felt as you rolled down the hill, harshly making contact with all the sticks and rocks along the path. It hurt. Everything hurt.
You must’ve slammed your head up against a rock or the ground because the next thing you knew, it all went black.
———
Adrenaline was coursing through his veins as he ran and jumped over everything in his path, Tuktirey hot on his trail as she followed her older brother.
It all went by too quickly for him to properly digest what just happened. The only thing on his mind was you. He just hoped that Spider and Kiri were already somewhere safe with you in tow. Should’ve grabbed her when I had the chance, fuck.
Lo’ak came up to an opening, not planning on stopping until two blue bodies popped out of nowhere, causing Tuk to let out a scream and him to jump out of the way. But as quickly as his fear settled into his stomach, it went away just as fast.
“Daddy!” Tuk cried out, running into her Sempul’s arms, whole body shaking from the shock and adrenaline coursing through her tiny body.
“Lo’ak,” Neteyam breathed out, bringing him into a hug, thanking the Great Mother for safely bringing back his younger siblings to him. Lo’ak leaned into the hug the best he could, hands still tied and whole body on alert for you.
“Tuk!” Neytiri called out, both her and Kiri emerging from behind some bushes, taking her youngest into her arms as she kneeled down to the forest floor, “Thank you Great Mother! Oh, thank you!”.
Jake had brought his second son into a hug after cutting his restraints off his wrists. But, as Lo’ak began to count the bodies around him, his heart sunk into his stomach. Spider nor you were in sight. Which only meant one thing.
“Where’s (Y/N)? Spider?” He shakingly asked, already knowing the answer.
Kiri looked up to her brother with tears in her eyes and a quivering lip. “They took him. They took them both!” She sobbed, head shaking at the fact. If only she had followed after you both. If only her Sa’nok didn’t pull her away.
Everything around Lo’ak began to crumble before him. The only thing he truly loved was taken from him, from right between his fingers.
As Jake tried to reassure his daughter that both you and Spider were going to be okay, that you both were tough kids, Lo’ak darted back into the forest, retracing his footsteps.
“Lo’ak!” Neytiri called out, trying to get him to come back. She was about to follow after him but Neteyam beat her to it, quickly running after him.
Tears began to brim Lo’ak’s waterline as he pushed himself to go faster, not wanting to accept the fact that you were now in the enemy's hands. His mate was in Quaritch’s hands, in the clutches of the RDA. Who knows what they’d do to you and Spider once you get to their base. Please, Great Mother, please bring her back.
But as the sight of the helicopter came into view and began to ascend back up with their precious cargo, Lo’ak felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.
“No!” He cried out, “Bring her back!”.
He fell to his knees as the flying piece of metal got tinier and tinier in his line of sight, becoming a bot in the starry sky before disappearing completely.
You were gone. Gone without a trace. Lo’ak had no way of tracking which base they’d bring you to. He had no way of saving you as he knew his Father would never waste bullets or Na’vi lives over you and Spider. The only thing he could do was cry out to Eywa to bring you back or have Quaritch come back and take him with you. But his prayers fell on empty ears.
“Little brother,” Neteyam softly called out, finally catching up to the teen boy.
The eldest Sully knew of your relationship with his brother. He had gone to visit Spider in the lab one afternoon when he stumbled upon you and Lo’ak in quite the compromising position. The younger had to beg the older to not speak a word about what he saw, knowing that if he did, their Sa’nok would have both of your heads on a stick. Neteyam hadn’t uttered a word of it since then.
Neteyam tried his best to comfort his brother, but he knew that the only person that could comfort him was you. And you were gone. Lo’ak was going to be inconsolable until he got you back into his arms.
“She’s gone, Teyam,” Lo’ak whispered, fat tears running down his darkening cheeks, “She’s gone.”.
“I know, Lo’ak, I know,” Neteyam cooed, bringing his brother into his arms for some comfort, “I’m sorry.”.
The rest of the Sully family had met up with Neteyam and Lo’ak, hugging the boy. None of them knew of your relationship, keeping it a secret from everyone, minus Neteyam and Kiri. Neytiri and Jake thought he was distraught at losing two of his closest friends but they couldn’t be further from the truth.
That night, Lo’ak cried himself to sleep, wishing that you were in his arms and that he could bury his nose into your neck and inhale your calming, yet intoxicating, scent.
Eywa, why didn’t you bring her back?, he thought to himself as sleep began to consume him, Why didn’t you take me with her?.
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theprismyyy · 3 months
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can you make a headcannon of gwen having a introvert or super shy girlfriend?
Gwen with a super shy girlfriend
Pairing: Gwen Stacy x Fem! reader
Tw: Nothing, basically just cuteness (not revised)
(English is not my first language)
I feel like this could be better, but honestly I'm not at my best... so I guess that's it, I still hope you like it ❤️
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Gwen with a super shy girlfriend------------ I feel like Gwen is an ambivert type of person, so she can kind of be on both sides of the coin depending on the situation or her mood in day. Either way, this girl would be super understanding with you, always trying her best to make sure you are comfortable in her surroundings.
Gwen with a super shy girlfriend------------ If you were in a circle of people talking and she noticed that you had something to say, she would do her best to help you to integrate into the conversation, in addition to listening carefully to what you have to say.
Gwen with a super shy girlfriend----------- Whenever you are in very crowded places, she keeps her hand firmly attached to yours, arms intertwined, hand in your back pocket, around your shoulder, on your waist or belt strap, in general anything that helps her stay close and not end up losing you in the middle of so many people (she also wants you to have this guarantee that it is there and not going anywhere).
Gwen with a super shy girlfriend----------- If you're the type who's too embarrassed to ask for directions on the street or order your own food, she wouldn't mind doing it for you. But she always tries to encourage you in a healthy way, obviously, to do it alone and be SUPER proud when you succeed, even if you stutter or fumble a little while speaking she still couldn't be most proud of your girl😭 she is your number one supporter.
Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- I imagine a scenario where you would have to present a project in class, in front of the whole class and you're like: Internal screams, anxiety, hyperventilating, wanting to faint, cry and vomit all at once. But Gwen is such a supportive and understanding girlfriend that she would never diminish the way you feel about it, and instead of saying it's silly and that you need to learn to deal, she tries her best to set aside at least one hour a day (either in person or via video calls), to help you practice your lines, comforting you and giving you words of support.
Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- Who when the dreaded presentation day finally arrived, would sit with you under the stairs about an hour early and just She would let you go over your lines if things were really bad for you, she would help you with breathing exercises and even hold your hair if you were the kind of person who needed to throw up. Regardless of anything, when the time finally came she would be right up front to hear everything you had to say, sussurrando palavras de conforto sempre que você gaguejasse, now...if by chance she doesn't have that particular class with you, make SURE she would be standing at the room window or opening the door to watch the presentation, with a big proud smile and a thumbs up as confirmation that you are doing well.
Gwen with a super shy girlfriend------------ No matter what grade the teacher gave you on that presentation paper, she would be there for you congratulate you and tell you that you were incredible simply for having the courage to go in front of everyone to speak, that this is how you start and that soon you would be doing it to the letter.
Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- The beginning of the relationship would be so weirdly cute and funny, this girl is crazy and hungry for physical touch, but you don't know exactly how comfortable you are with that, you're both a shy mess and too embarrassed to ask each other.
Gwen with a super shy girlfriend—------- But things start to flow and work naturally little by little, until you finally reach your first kiss. Gwen would probably be the one to initiate it... and you to walk away, not because you didn't like it but because it was unexpected, like, you were casually at her house at a sleepover, talking and being silly teenagers when suddenly she He leaned over and kissed you, more like a peck since you got scared and went to the other side of the room 😭😭 (you didn't talk about it for about three days).
Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- The first time the two of you actually kiss without running away from each other is at an even more random moment, you're in the bathroom, Gwen leaning against the sink counter as you fix your makeup in the mirror. As soon as you finish, you approach Gwen softly, both of you with a silly smile on your face when she compliments some of your makeup, it's just a super sweet interaction before you realize how close you are to each other, how you wouldn't need to lean in so much for touching your lips and how your breaths seem to mix perfectly.
Then they both go in for the kiss…and damn, that's awkward.
A small shy peck, followed by lots of silly giggles that barely allow you to put your lips together properly, hands shaking and not knowing where to rest, your teeth they probably clash a little...but at the same time as it's strange it's also so adorable. Soon you find a little rhythm that is still shy, but more comfortable for both of them, with Gwen holding her face with an almost crushing softness and her (very shaky) hands resting and delicately gripping her waist her. Anyway, a student ends up getting in the middle of this, disrupting this little moment and making the two of them separate like scared cats (you still laugh about that whenever you remember)
© 2023 theprismyyy — please do not copy, translate or repost any of my works without my permission.
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daydreaming-en-pointe · 2 months
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the swan and her princess (part 2)
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summary: Swan Lake isn’t all beauty and grace, contrary to popular belief. And you experience firsthand that as you wage a one-sided war with your “rival” for the role of Odette.
chapter summary: A pleasant surprise turns out to be possibly not so pleasant after all.
pairing: Gwen Stacy (Spider-Woman) x fem!Ballerina!Reader [aka some sort of a messy Ballet!AU]
word count: 2695
warnings: cussing, ballet terms, creative liberties taken since I’ve never been to Lincoln Center and the research I’ve done may or may not be fully accurate
a/n: :D got a little carried away with this one whoops doing this is much harder than i expected this au is taking up my entire brain pls help
part 1 // part 2 // part 3 (pending)
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glossary:
Barre: A handrail used by ballet dancers to maintain balance while exercising. One hand is placed on the barre at all times, and the dancer stands beside it.
Kitri: The feisty and wilful heroine of the ballet Don Quixote. When her father Lorenzo tries to marry her off for money, she doesn’t play the victim, but hatches a plan to marry Basilio, the charming barber who has won her heart, and pursue her own version of happiness. As a dancer’s role, Kitri is athletic and demanding. Kitri wears striking red costumes (look them up, they’re really beautiful) and gestures expressively with a fan in a nod to her Spanish heritage.
Don Quixote: Don Quixote is a ballet in three acts, based on episodes taken from the famous novel Don Quixote de la Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes.
Kurta: A loose collarless shirt/dress of a type worn by people in South Asia, usually with a salwar, churidars, or pyjama.
Dupatta: A length of material arranged in two folds over the chest and thrown back around the shoulders, typically with a salwar kameez. Usually worn by women from South Asia.
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Right after you set foot in the studio and dropped your bag in the corner, you made a beeline for the cacophonous, eagerly buzzing crowd that had formed around the cast list.
You saw a familiar duffel bag and raised your eyebrows slightly. Surprisingly, Gwen had showed up on time. Miracles really did exist.
Murmurs of disappointment and cheers of satisfaction rippled through the dancers in the room as they dispersed one by one, either wearing an expression of genuine excitement or a mask of disguised regret that they hadn’t tried harder or trained longer.
You pushed your way to the front, your eyes immediately darting to the name next to Odette. Your heart sank as you traced over the curly loops and sharper lines of the handwritten letters.
White Swan/Princess Odette : Patricia Roberts.
Pat…?
Sure, she was good, but she was always a little bit too fast for the pieces. She was brilliant at lightning-quick steps in speedy variations, but couldn’t ‘dance like a flowy fairy’, as your ballet teacher said, to save her life.
And the White Swan was all about being slow and sad and graceful.
Your eyes travelled further down the list, going through the roles of Odile, the cygnets, the general swans, and the royals. Each time, you were disappointed. By the time you reached the end of the list, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit anxious. Your name just… wasn’t there.
You were a part of this, right?
The entire class was taking part in this production. It wouldn’t make any sense for you to not be there. Even if it was just as a regular background swan.
“Can’t find your name either, huh?”
You hadn’t noticed that everyone else had broken off into excitedly chattering groups to start warming up and take their places at the barre, leaving only you and Gwen standing and craning your necks up at the piece of paper that seemed to decide your fate in the studio for the next few months.
You shook your head no, earning a sigh from Gwen that lasted longer than it probably should have.
“Well, we could ask Miss Walker, but she’s not here yet. So…” She shifted awkwardly beside you. You tried to observe her from your peripheral vision without being too obvious. She sounded… tired. Exhausted, really, like she hadn’t slept in a few days and then had to run a marathon around the city. She had done a pretty shoddy job of concealing the heavy dark circles under her eyes — which truly was saying something, because her makeup was usually immaculate.
Fuck. You couldn’t believe it, but for a moment you almost felt sorry for her. Well, maybe not just almost.
“Hey, uh… you good?” You winced at your attempt at a nonchalant tone. Gwen turned to look at you like you had sprouted a third head, slight confusion reflecting in her eyes.
You had never noticed them before, but she had nice eyes, honestly. The expressive kind that could show every little shift in her emotions if she didn’t hide it. And right now she looked like she was about to grin or crack a joke, so you fixed a scowl on your face to ward off any amusing thing she might have been gearing up to say.
The smile in her eyes faded.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Time to poke the bee’s nest. “You don’t sound—”
You were cut off as the studio doors flew open, and Miss Walker, looking extremely hassled, practically sprinted in. Random strands of hair poked out of her unusually-untidy bun, and her glasses were perched precariously on the tip of her nose. She held her phone in one hand and a clipboard in the other.
“Class, pointes on and everyone to the barre right now, please! Finish your second warmup, I’ll be right with you. Gwendolyn, Y/N, may I have a word with the two of you?”
We’re in trouble, mouthed Gwen with a comically scared, wide-eyed, completely exaggerated expression that was very childish and definitely should not have made you want to laugh. You bit the inside of your cheek to clamp down on your smile.
Your ballet teacher led you both over to a corner of the studio, adjusting her glasses right as they were about to fall off. “Okay, so I have some very good news for both of you. You might have noticed that your names weren’t on the final cast list at all, correct?”
You both nodded.
“As it turns out, you’ve been selected by the School of American Ballet to feature in New York City Ballet’s version of Swan Lake! And not selected for just any role — you girls are playing both Swans!”
The words took a few seconds to register in your mind. The sheer improbability of it all was phenomenal — two mere teenagers chosen to perform by the most prestigious ballet company in the world, to dance alongside some of the best professional ballerinas-in-the-making? This was a dream come true; was any of this real?
“You’re joking,” you heard Gwen say beside you. You felt like you were about to lift off and float all the way to the sky when your teacher just gave a broad, proud smile.
Everything after that was surrounded by a hazy glow of euphoric shock — blurred by excitement and lightheadedness and disbelief. You might’ve blacked out at one point, bracing yourself against the wall while you waited for your vision to clear.
Gwen suddenly narrowed her eyes in a wince, squinting as if she had a headache. “I’m so sorry, I have to go,” She mumbled hastily, before grabbing her bag and slipping out of the studio. And just like that, she was gone. Again.
You and Miss Walker exchanged a look of slight confusion, but she shrugged. “Well, you’re dismissed for today, Y/N. They’re expecting you tomorrow. You know where the company is, right?”
“Yes, miss.” Of course you did, which ballerina didn’t? Of all the best aspiring ballet dancers’ dream companies, New York City Ballet was right up there with The Royal Ballet in London, Paris Opera Ballet in France, and the Australian Ballet in Melbourne. In other words: this was a giant fucking deal and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
You’d have to be beyond idiotic to blow it off.
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You arrived at Lincoln Center (which housed the New York City Ballet), fresh-faced and a few minutes early. Well, maybe not so fresh-faced, since you could barely sleep because of nerves. Throughout the night, what felt like a million thoughts that were all variations of what if I’m not good enough? and maybe I’m not cut out for this plagued you well into the early hours of the morning.
You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Gwen, looking annoyingly (and most probably effortlessly) put-together and honestly quite fashionable. Did she have to have such perfect eyeliner? Even her hair tips seemed pinker than usual.
“Wow, you’re early for once,” You tried to load snark into your tone but failed miserably, earning you an insufferably relaxed chuckle from Gwen.
You shook your head and focused on trying to find the ballet company’s actual studio. Lincoln Center was comprised of a complex of buildings in a giant neighbourhood that you had never been in before, and the David H. Koch Theater which housed the New York City Ballet was just one of those many buildings spread over 16.3 acres.
You were lucky you two had arrived early, because it took you ten whole minutes trying to find the theater - because, as it turns out, you and Gwen had entered from a separate entrance from the main one. Finally you entered the studio, and for a while the only sounds were that of your shoes squeaking on the shiny wooden floors.
Something that struck you was just how big everything about it was.
The light fixtures that lined the walls cast yellow light all along the hallway, illuminating everything with a soft glow the colour of honeyed amber. Just walking that corridor made you feel like you were approaching a royal ballroom, floating around in a gown that could put Kitri’s costume from Don Quixote to shame.
You finally saw the door to the studio. Someone was waiting outside — a man in an all-black suit with close-cropped black hair and a salt-and-pepper beard. His face broke into a smile as he saw you and Gwen, and without waiting for you to fully make it to the door, he strode forward and clasped your hand.
“Welcome to New York City Ballet! I’m Carlos, the resident choreographer of this company. We’ve been expecting you! Your teacher has informed you of the production we are working on, yes?” He rattled all of this off at full speed in clipped, staccato pronunciations, so fast that it took you a second to register what he was saying.
“Swan Lake, right?” Gwen answered for you.
“Yes, yes. I assume you both know the combinations for both swans?” You nodded maybe a little too eagerly, eliciting a subtle eyebrow-raise from Carlos. “Very good. Come, I will introduce you to Shaoni. She is our support staff, and a former ballet mistress. She taught many young dancers who went on to become famous prima ballerinas. Don’t take her words too seriously; her bark is worse than her bite.”
He gave you a sympathetic smile and pushed open the double doors. Immediately the first thing you saw was a woman wearing a blue kurta with a gold-trimmed dupatta, her dark hair pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck. The thing that stood out most about her was her highly displeased scowl that had her looking like someone had insulted her entire bloodline three times over, spat in her face and then wrecked her favourite tutu.
Forget a simple resting bitch face, this was a prime, next-level display of an I’m-done-with-this-shit-and-I-need-a-vacation expression.
“Good morning, girls. My name is Shaoni Lahiri, you will address me as Miss Lahiri. You’re a bit early; please begin your warmup while we wait for the others. Also, our artistic director wanted to talk to you about your first day, so once he arrives meet him in his office.” Miss Lahiri had just finished her introductory monologue when her phone buzzed in her pocket with a notification.
Her eyes swiped over the lockscreen for a brief second before she tucked it away again, and you could’ve sworn you saw her roll her eyes slightly when she saw the name of the messager. “Mr. Osborn will see you now. The door to his office is in the far left corner of the studio. Try not to get lost, will you?” Even her sarcasm sounded effortlessly annoyed beyond relief.
And just like that, she abandoned you and went over to compare choreography notes with Carlos.
You turned and followed her directions, noticing a polished wooden door near the end wall of the studio. “Hey, wait for me!” Gwen had been busy gawking at the studio and, really, you couldn’t quite blame her. It truly was something else compared to the much smaller one you were used to.
You knocked once and pushed open the door once you heard a voice call out, “Come in!”
The moment the door swung open, you were immediately blinded by the brightest white light you had ever seen. The entire office looked like it had been bleached to within an inch of its life; there were no specks of dust to be seen and everything was neatly arranged in cupboards and on shelves.
“Oh, hello there!” Once your eyes had readjusted, you noticed a man with greying red-brown hair in a crisp suit with a green pinstripe jacket, an orange vest, and black pants. He sat with his hands clasped neatly on the lacquered teakwood desk in front of him, wearing a polite smile.
“You must be the new arrivals, yes? Let’s see, what are your names…” He opened a folder that had been pushed to one side of the desk, flicking through pages. “Gwen Stacy and Y/N Y/L/N?”
“Yes, that’s us,” You answered quickly, feeling slightly giddy with excitement as the truth sunk in properly. This wasn’t a dream, you had really been selected by the fucking New York City Ballet. You would be working alongside some of the best ballet dancers in the area. Better yet, you had more than a fair chance at dancing Odette. Of course, so did Gwen, but you were obviously the better choice… it wasn’t personal, really, just that she barely attended a full class and therefore should probably dance Odile instead.
“Excellent, excellent. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Norman Osborn, the artistic director of this company.” He stood up and shook your hand. He smiled at Gwen, but instead of smiling back, she just dropped her gaze, inhaling sharply as if she had been stung.
“Something’s not right with him,” She murmured to you the moment Mr. Osborn turned his back to retrieve a folder from his filing cabinet. “I can’t explain it, just… please trust me. I think he’s going to be a threat to us.”
You felt annoyance flare up inside you, white-hot maelstroms of anger expanding by the second. “Please excuse us, Mr. Osborn. Gwen and I need to discuss something.” You tried to sound as inconspicuous and well-mannered as you could. You grabbed Gwen’s shoulder and pulled her through the door, closing it behind you.
“Listen here,” You hissed, letting go of her. “I didn’t make it all this way and train for an extra four hours a day for three years just so you could blow this off. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re some sort of a package deal. So don’t you dare make up stuff and tell me this perfectly polite man is a threat. Is this some sort of scheme? You make me get cold feet, pretend like you’re dropping out, then when you convince me to leave the company you swoop in and snatch up the role of Odette? Is that what you’re playing at?”
Gwen stared at you in utter disbelief, rubbing her shoulder where your grip had tightened just a little too much. “What? No, of course not. I would never—”
“Okay, good. Now let’s get back in there and do whatever the hell he wants us to do, because this is the New York City Ballet and we are not leaving till we’re done with this production, got it?”
For a split second, intense desperation marred her features and she looked like she was about to cry. Then, just as quickly as it had come, all the vulnerability displayed on her face disappeared — but not from her eyes. Her mouth and eyebrows were relaxed, cool, but her eyes shone with a feverish light that made her look a bit manic. Finally she took a deep breath and glared levelly at you.
“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Something about her tone would have sent a shiver down your spine if you hadn’t been so pumped up about this whole ordeal. You dismissed it easily, penning it, possibly, as the sullen disappointment of a plotter whose evil scheme hadn’t gone quite according to plan.
You entered the office again, Gwen trailing behind you reluctantly, and gave Mr. Osborn a big smile. “You were saying?”
He passed you and Gwen two sheets of paper and a pen. “Sign this. It’s a contract that officialises your stay at this company for the duration of this production.”
You signed it eagerly. Gwen, who was studying the words intently, noticed your impatience and signed it too.
“Perfect,” said Norman Osborn, giving you a big smile. Was it just you, or did it look more plastic this time…?
Nope, definitely just you. He carefully filed the sheets away and clasped your hand in a handshake once again. “Welcome to New York City Ballet. I’m sure this contract will prove to be beneficial to the both of us.”
Gwen dropped her eyes to the floor. Probably just her odd headaches acting up again.
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Taglist:
@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 @theprismyyy
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some-bunniii · 2 days
Text
Lucifer dotes on a mama!reader
・❥ Caring for an infant isn’t easy, but luckily, you’ve got a charming king willing to do anything for you.
| Part 1 | Part 2 |
x: reader is fem, no use of y/n.
xx: it’s here! a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, but lots of think you’ll enjoy it! keep your eyes out for some pretty art i commissioned inside!
~ 15k words
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When you welcomed your daughter into the realm, and finally reached that next long stretch of motherhood, you had prepared yourself for the many changes that accompanied the new addition.
For example, your sleep schedule flipped entirely on its head once you realized that newborn babies slept only a few hours intermittently, which meant a good, long night's rest did not exist anymore. 
You found yourself putting your daughter down for a nap at six in the morning, having spent the previous night breastfeeding and soothing her cries. Sometimes, her wailing lasted several hours, and you began to worry if she had a hellish form of colic. You prayed it wasn’t that, because that would mean it would worsen for the next month or so.
The first few weeks were spent holed up in your room, away from the loud noises and constant active state of the rest of the hotel. It was pretty easy, seeing as it was basically a studio apartment, save for the kitchen, which was an exhausting walk down the hall, even more so than when you were pregnant. 
“Ya look terrible, mama,” Angel Dust had grimaced with a laugh when you appeared like a ghost late one night inside the much posher lobby, your complexion sunken and drained as your feet dragged across the red carpet.
He had just arrived home from a long day at the studio, his expression equally as drained but his demeanor much livelier than your zombie appearance.
You probably did look terrible, in your oversized pajamas that no doubt had stains of baby spit-up and breast milk. You looked unsightly, a mess, that pregnancy glow extinguished like a flame as you tiredly frog blinked in Angel’s direction. 
“Need… to clean the milk bottles… before she wakes up,” you mumbled, lifting three small, dirty baby bottles to view.
“Ya need any help?”
“No, thanks. M’fine,” you waved him off with a yawn, slowly crossing the room towards the kitchen doors. 
There was no reason to bother him with such a task, it was your baby, and he already had enough to deal with at the studio.
“Well, have a good time then. I'm jus’ gonna call it an early night an’ head ta bed,” Angel replied, bidding farewell as he turned and left the lobby. 
Your head twisted to catch a glimpse of his figure turning the corner, surprise crossing your features at his sudden departure. Usually, Angel Dust had a couple of drinks after work or went out to party until the early hours of the morning. 
Tonight, the only thing on the spider demon’s mind was to curl up with Fat Nuggets and sleep those troubling emotions away.
He had been drinking far less lately, or, at least, had been keeping his habits away from the hotel ever since the new hotel was built and your daughter was born. No more did the pornstar burst in after a night at the studio, eyes red and speech slurred as he spoke gibberish and laughed at nothing in particular. 
Even though it was Hell, you were determined to keep the gateways into a chaotic life away from your daughter. She was going to have the best quality of life possible in such a place, and you were vocal about your disapproval of those habits, especially in a place that’s supposed to be free of such sin.
When Cherri began staying longer and longer at the hotel, you were apprehensive at first with how much deeper she seemed to be in ‘the life’. Would she sink further into the depths after Sir. Pentious’ death? It wasn’t easy for someone to deal with both grief and guilt at the same time. 
Fortunately, she had the support of the residents inside the hotel, and she was finding healthier outlets than a thin line of white powder to quell her pain. 
You were grieving too, even if you hadn’t known Sir. Pentious that long in comparison to the others, the little time you spent with him was all but enough. 
Sir. Pentious was kind, and courteous, and made the best cookies you’d ever tasted. You had a connection with the snake demon with your shared enjoyment in cooking, and you welcomed the assistance of his Egg Boiz taste-testing your delicacies. 
Now, he was gone, and the emptiness of his departure was palpable inside the hotel. His loyal egg companions now dwindled to just one singular yolk, the rest having sacrificed their shells along with their selfless general. 
Frank, who had survived solely because he had guarded you at the hospital, returned home to an empty nest and no boss.
You weren’t sure whether the little guy could understand how double death worked, but the way he stared longingly at Sir. Pentious’ portrait in the lobby that he knew his old family was gone for good.
Charlie had done her best to integrate him into the staff, him a room service attendant. He stayed your faithful helper in that way, summoned to your door by the newly installed service button whenever you needed.
“Sorry for bothering you, Frank,” you had smiled down at him, poking your head out from the inside of your room, your daughter latched onto your nipple, “But I’m out of toilet paper and I'm kind of busy right now. Could you go grab me some, please?” 
“Sure thing!” He replied chipperly, lifting his hat courteously from the top of his shell before he scampered down the hall and out of view. 
He’d return with your items of request, as he did for all the rest of the residents. It kept him busy, allowing his one-track mind to stay away from thinking hard thoughts about what was lost for too long.
Those hard thoughts plagued you as well, as you dealt with the grief of losing a friend and the mood swings that began to take over you. The hormonal changes that came post-birth was also something you prepared for, the ‘baby blues’ as most would call it.
It had started as mood swings, the typical sudden bursts of emotions that accompanied your pregnancy, and the ones that liked to show their face around your period. Suddenly, you’d find yourself shooting a glare at a particularly noisy conversation outside of your door, or find your eyes welling up with tears at the slightest inconvenience.
A mix of sleep deprivation and postpartum hormones was not a good one, and you were determined to keep this weakness away from your friends. 
What if they thought you weren’t doing a good job as a mother? All that time, energy, and resources that were used to help you and your baby. They’d think it was all a waste, caring so much only for you to end up a disappointment. 
Was that… how your ex had felt when he chose a whore over his lover and child?
Those thoughts began to plague you, and your anxiety heightened with every passing day. The idea that their judgments on your parenting would be harsh had you withdrawing for longer periods inside your room, and farther away from your friends.
Unfortunately, you weren’t able to keep your feelings completely hidden from them, and you realized quickly how erratic your emotions actually were.
One day, Vaggie had swung by to inform you that they had ordered some pizza, and you were welcome to have some too. You were busy breastfeeding your baby at the time, and had to wait until she was sound asleep to sneak out of your room and into the kitchen. 
When you finally arrived, your stomach growled with giddy anticipation as you passed by the others who had mostly finished their plates, your lateness obvious. The lobby was filled with chatter, all the residents gathered for a nice meal and to catch up on anything new that had transpired during the week.
When you reached the partially open pizza box inside the empty kitchen, that delicious scent wafted to your nose and you licked your lips hungrily. Gripping the lid, you lifted it quickly, your mind already picturing whatever goodness lay inside. 
Was it the classic pepperoni that couldn’t go wrong? Maybe it was from that new pizzeria down the block with their best-selling macaroni and cheese… 
Your train of thought derailed, your gaze narrowing at the contents inside the box. 
A singular slice of pizza was all that remained inside, your most hated topping sprinkled atop the now-cooled cheese. 
Your lip curled at the sight, irritation flickering across your face at the lonely slice. You heard laughter from the conversation behind you, and that only had your eye twitching.
You had lived with these guys during the most intense months of your cravings, and they were aware of what kind of pizza you devoured in an instant and which ones had you gagging. And, only one slice? Had they forgotten about you, even though you had told Vaggie you’d come down after feeding the baby? 
You were itching to commit some sort of violence, which had you steeling your arms from lifting the box and chucking it against the wall. 
Those intrusive thoughts had you rubbing your temple with a frustrated sigh, before lifting a hand to begin plucking the disgusting toppings from the slice. 
As you placed the last of it onto the cardboard, you grabbed the pizza and threw it into the microwave nearby. Your foot tapped impatiently against the marble tile as the slice spun slowly inside the appliance, your thoughts spinning along with it.
By the time you had made it out of the kitchen with steaming food, your tolerance for social interaction was drained, and it seemed a better idea to just eat in your room. 
Passing by a few familiar faces, you only greeted them with a tight smile, walking fast enough so that they’d assume you were busy and it would be less likely for them to invite you to chat. 
Right as you were about to turn the corner into the hall, plate in hand, a figure rounded the corner and smacked into you head-on. Your chests collided, and you felt the plate slip from your grip, you snapped your head up to see the familiar apple-cheeked woman meet your gaze.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Charlie gasped, right as the pizza slid off your plate and began to free-fall down to the carpet.
Your eyes widened, and Charlie tensed as the pizza splat face-down, the tomato sauce beginning to ooze from the sides like a bloody scene and your hand began to tremble.
At first, those intrusive thoughts were prodding you to snap at her, but you held your tongue. That anger quickly morphed into gloom, and your eyes cast down longingly to the overturned slice.
Your lip quivered, and your chest heaved as you took a shaky breath to keep those tears from falling. Charlie’s brows furrowed and she slowly matched your expression as guilt squeezed her stomach. The banter around you quieted, but your gaze was firmly on the woman in front of you. 
Fuck, that was the one thing you were looking forward to today. You couldn’t lose your composure in front of the princess, however, that would heighten her concern, and she already had enough on her plate with the new clients.
“Here, let me get Niffty to clean this up and I can get you some more piz—”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” You interrupted her, a quiet growl laced in your wavering words as you chuckled humorously, “There isn’t anything left, this was all you guys cared enough to save for me.” 
Charlie’s eyes widened at your tone, before she opened her mouth to speak again just as Niffty walked forward to clean the mess. Looking down, you took notice of the large glob of sauce that had landed on your top, and you clenched your fists in frustration.
“If you excuse me, I have to get changed now,” you huffed, spinning on your heels to face the hallway, not giving the princess any time to press further as you briskly walked away.
That hot, salty liquid began to spill down your cheeks right as you entered into the long corridor, and you desperately tried to wipe them away. Your face was rubbed dry in a desperate bid to silence the tears.
What was wrong with you? It was one slice of pizza, yet your heart ached like your lottery ticket was one number away from winning. Charlie’s expression had proved your mask was beginning to crack, with the mix of concern and surprise toward your change in demeanor. 
Motherhood isn't easy, that had been clear since day one, but you had hoped your emotions would have stabilized by now. It seems that sleep exhaustion and maternal hormones just don’t mix very well, huh?
That incident had been so embarrassing, that you kept to yourself the rest of the week, only venturing out when necessary, which had you spending most of your time with your daughter. 
Your baby couldn’t speak yet, and wouldn’t for quite a while, which meant you had to speak for her. Usually, you attached words to the silly little faces she would make at any action you or another demon did around her. 
The one time you switched her bottle from breast milk to formula, she didn’t seem too happy about it with how big of a stink eye she sent you chugging down her dinner. Peaches was only a month and a half, but her expressiveness was that of a moody, hormonal teenager.
You spent many hours cooped up with her, sometimes, you needed to have a little fun and play puppeteer one evening as the two of you lounged on your bed.
You squished your daughter's cheeks, making tiny little duck lips as you pitched your voice higher, “Yes, Mama, I promise to sleep through the whoooole night this time!”
“Wonderful,” you beamed, using your other hand to pat her approvingly on the stomach, “And you’ll drink your whole bottle without fuss?”
“Yes, Mama! And, I wi—”
“What are you doing?” An amused, honeyed voice came from across your room.
You froze, turning towards the open doorway, your fingers still pinched around the baby's lips as your eyes widened at the familiar face.
There, standing leisurely against his cane, was the casually dressed ‘Big Boss of Hell’. Lucifer’s blonde hair was slicked back, a few curls framing his statuesque features. Those warm, golden eyes and skin that practically shimmered against the waning daylight from your window.  
He tilted his head with a soft, playful smile, as he drank in your figure. The red evening light basked the bed with a warm glow that lit your eyes up like diamonds, enhancing your maternal elegance as you bonded with your daughter. 
Your love for her was obvious, and that always had Lucifer’s heart fluttering, seeing something so pure exist in such a grim world.
Slowly, you slid off the bed, your smile widening every step closer you took towards the king as you crossed the room. Somehow, even in your melancholic state, his presence always seemed to have you energized and bouncy.
“Your Majesty,” you batted your lashes, coming to a stop at the doorway before leaning casually against it. 
“M’lady,” his grin widened into a wide, teeth-glinting smile as he lifted his hand to present a caramel-coated apple nestled snugly atop a thin, wooden stick. Your stomach growled on cue, and the scent that wafted to your nose had your mouth watering.
“Looks like that glow hasn’t left you yet, if I do say,” he replied, his eyes flicking across your figure before meeting your gaze again.
You only shook your head with a breath of laughter, reaching forward and plucking the delicacy from his grip and turning it in your fingers.
“Charlie says she hasn’t seen you for a few days, you really should go and get some fresh air once in a while,” Lucifer continued as you widened the doorway for him to enter, shooting you a stern glance as spoke. 
Is he talking right now? You quirked a brow as he slid past, lifting the offering to your lips and taking a large, hungry bite out of the treat. 
Lucifer’s eyes were on one being in particular, swaddled snuggly across the room on your bed. His gaze lingered on your daughter for a few moments, before he turned to face you again. 
“How is everything going?”
“Good,” you lied. 
“That’s great to hear,” his warm smile widened, and his eyes flicked back over to your daughter, before snapping back to you. 
Lucifer’s cane twisted between his fingers nervously as he opened his mouth to speak, before disregarding his thoughts and clamping his mouth shut with a small huff.
You only titled your head at that, your lips curving into a more genuine smile as you watched him. 
Children were such a soft spot for Lucifer, you could tell the way his demeanor changed instantly when he was in the presence of a baby. His voice turned to velvet whenever his gentle tone gained from experience in soothing their little ears.
You couldn’t imagine how beautiful lullabies sounded with those vocals of his, the very thought making you melt like butter. Although, you haven't gotten the chance to hear them yet. 
His parental instincts seemed to have resurfaced with the birth of your daughter, and that natural affinity for caring for the innocent and helpless buried along with his angelic began to emerge with each passing visit.
He kept his love at a distance, at first. Almost as if he was afraid of getting attached to such a tiny being, like the emotions that came along with it were a deadly force that could take him out far quicker than angelic steel.
Was it because the baby wasn’t his? Did he think you didn’t want him around your child? Maybe, one day he assumed you’d take the baby and leave, and those growing would only break his heart along with your departure. 
You just needed to prove him wrong. 
“Come on,” you finally nudged him with a laugh, setting the apple on a table nearby, before beckoning him to follow you towards the bed. 
It seemed as if Lucifer had been waiting for your approval, as his demeanor lightened at your words and he slowly followed you. His steps were light and quiet as you neared the side of the bed, stopping just as he settled beside you. 
“Peaches! You’re looking quite radiant this evening,” Lucifer greeted with a flourish, as he leaned over the side of your bed, and your daughter’s eyes widened at the familiar face.
Your eyes flicked up to the fallen angel at his words. Peaches, the nickname he had come up with. Shockingly, a name that didn’t derive from apples, ducks, or the circus.
“Well, aren't you just a peach, so quiet and easy for your mama!'' Lucifer had cooed to the little one her first days in Hell, she lay in your arms as he softly brushed a thumb across her chin, “So adwowable wit those chubby wittle cheeks.” 
Your baby had only frowned at the strange man’s touch with a half-lidded gaze, but soon she’d learn to get used to Lucifer’s presence, as he never disappeared for too long without visiting his three favorite girls. 
You had a real name for your daughter that was chosen after her birth, but that could be reserved for when you’d have to pull out the full name card during arguments in her teenage years. Peaches had been a simple phrase that seemed to stick, and even if you weren’t fond of the cute addressal, you wouldn’t dare ruin his first attachment to your daughter.
Peaches had only stared up at the porcelain figure invading her space with a curious gaze, no doubt wondering who this silly was, and why he always left her gifts to fawn over. 
Like the first day you came home from the hospital, he presented you with a beautiful red, silken bassinet, with intricate gold lines woven into the detailed design, enhancing the elegance of the crib. Its plushness looked very comfortable for your daughter, and you adored that Lucifer got you something in the first place.
Another time, he brought you a golden mobile that depicted ducks flying rhythmically in circles, ones that threw vibrant, warm lights across the walls late at night, soothing the girl’s late wakings before they woke you at times. 
That seemed to be Lucifer’s love language towards your daughter, always presenting her with toys and other little gizmos he cooked up inside of his workshop. Finally, the fallen angel had found purpose for the dusty space, instead of constantly tweaking the same old, yellow rubber ducky day after day.
“For you, a fan-favorite from the vault,” Lucifer hummed as he snapped his fingers, and a stuffed goat with devilish horns and bat wings materialized in his hands.
Right as he pulled the plush from behind his back, Peaches became enamored with it, kicking her legs in excitement as the stuffed animal was held high for her to get a full view. Her motor control was still poor, and she couldn’t grasp the amusing creature, but its colorful fur and dragon-like features were something to gawk at in the little one’s eyes.
“Look, she’s smiling!” You beamed beside the fallen angel, heart melting as you watched the little girl’s mouth open with a squeal at the offering, “I think that’s her biggest one yet!”
“It seems I’m just a natural at this kind of thing, huh?” Lucifer winked playfully your way, before he levitated the toy just above your daughter’s head, whose attention was solely on the little goat plush, “I think she’s even starting to like me, too.”
‘You’re such a good daddy, please let me make you one again.’
“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” you replied instead with a simple nod, before turning on your heels to hide your goofy smile and retrieve the caramel apple once more.
You plucked the apple from the table, before biting another large chunk from its side. The flavors swirled in your mouth, and that fog in your mind lessened a little more with each bite.
You watched from a short distance, as Lucifer’s index finger pointed towards the air above your daughter’s head. With a flick of his wrist, a trail of golden sparks shot from his fingertip and upward above their heads, before exploding into a flurry of sparkles that sent golden shadows across the room.
Peaches was digging the light show, her eyes fixated on the floating spectacle before they flickered out of existence. 
“Anything else going on?” The king finally spoke, turning his head slightly to catch a glimpse of you. 
“Not really, just taking it one day at a time,” you responded absentmindedly, lifting the coated apple to your lips to take another bite. 
“Are you free tomorrow?” He blurted, smile cracking wider as straightened himself against his cane. 
You froze, brain short-circuiting as those words processed in your head. You, free? As in, available to partake in some sort of activity with Lucifer?
“Yes, technically…” you trailed off, gaze flicking to your daughter, giddy on her bed as she watched the stuffed goat, “But I can’t just leave the baby alone all evening, she needs me.”
“She doesn’t need you, she’s fine with someone else for a few hours,” he waved off your excuse, before throwing another trail of sparklings into the air, and they exploded in a flurry of golden glimmers above the baby’s head, “I’m sure Charlie would love to spoil the kid for a few hours anyway, don’t you trust her?” 
“Yes…” 
“I was thinking,” Lucifer continued, beginning to take a few slow, deliberate steps towards you, “Nothing too crazy, just a nice, quiet evening with good food. Maybe throw some of my good wine into the mix, what do you say?”
He sent you a sultry, half-lidded gaze as he sidled closer to you, the caramel apple in your grip lowering from your lips as Lucifer enraptured your full attention, heat blooming across your cheeks at his expression. 
“If that is what His Majesty wishes, then I cannot refuse such an offer,” you struggled to keep your voice from wavering, the heat in your cheeks creeping farther down your body.
“But do you want it?” He pressed, only a foot away from you now, his lips upturned in a smirk at your flustered expression. 
Apparently, those horny hormones had also stuck around after your pregnancy. Having such a gorgeous, ethereal figure so close to you made your heart skip a beat as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. 
“I… think that is a very lovely offer, and I would enjoy being able to spend time in just your company,” you finally replied carefully, a smile blooming across your lips.
“Perfect!” Lucifer clapped his hands together, his eyes glinting with glee as he took a step away from you, back toward the bed.
“Goodbye, sweetheart,” The king cooed softly to your daughter, as he plucked the stuffed goat from the air, “Take good care of this little guy, he’s a special one.”
Lowering the plush, Lucifer placed it gently against your baby’s chest, and her chubby little hands came up to wrap firmly around the toy. Ungracefully, the goat was lifted to Peaches’ lips before she opened her mouth to begin suckling on its ear.
“I bet that tastes delicious,” Lucifer laughed, and you smiled fondly at the duo with a tilt of your head.
The fallen angel took a step back from the bed after a moment, before he lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. That familiar white, brim hat materialized from thin air into his grasp, and he turned to you with a smile.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm a very busy man and have other matters to attend to,” Lucifer sighed dramatically, brushing past you towards the doorway. 
“I have no doubt,” you shook your head with a laugh, following him towards the end of your room.
Lucifer reached the open doorway, before turning to face you again. He met your gaze for a few moments, before he leaned forward in a bow.
“I’ll see you tomorrow evening, m’lady,” he hummed with delight, adjusting his hat against those beautiful golden curls as you smiled warmly.
“Is there a dress code for our little outing?” you responded with a mischievous grin.
The king only sent you a playful wink, before he stepped out of view and the soft thuds of heeled boots against carpet faded as he disappeared down the hall.
That interaction with Lucifer stewed in your mind for the entire night, as well as into the early morning. Your thoughts drifted to the previous conversation as you snuck down the hall and into the lobby to grab breakfast from the kitchen.
The others were fairly busy, so you were easily able to travel unseen. Angel Dust was working overtime at the studio for a new porn flick, and Charlie was using the extermination to push her hotel further into the spotlight and attract new clients. Vaggie always went along with her, and Alastor was probably up in his fancy new radio tower, doing whatever it was he did up there. 
It was only Husk who remained, always behind the bar, shining the bottles and whistling a strange blues tune. He had begun to rope in his drinking as well, choosing to pick up a bottle much later in the day than usual. It was the early morning hour, when you passed by the bar with breakfast in your hands, and the sober bartender turned to you.
“How’s the kid doing?”
“She’s fine, growing very fast too, gaining more control over her movement every day.”
“That's nice,” Husk’s lips curved a smidge, as he placed the glassware neatly underneath the counter, “Haven’t seen you in a while, glad to know ya ain’t dead or nothin’.”
“Yes…” You said slowly, mind racing for a good excuse, “She has just been fussy lately, so I’ve been tending to her.”
“You should bring her out one of these days,” He lifted his eyes from the glass in his paws, meeting yours with an unreadable expression, “I’m sure the others would be happy to see her.”
You couldn’t tell whether Husk was using the term ‘others’ as an inclusion of him as well, you knew the furry demon had a heart somewhere beneath those layers of fur and grumpiness.
You nodded your head at his words, taking a bite of your breakfast, thoughts drifting as you chewed. You’d have to ask Charlie about babysitting anyway, and you couldn’t avoid her forever.
Maybe, knowing that you were going out with her dad, she’d be thrilled to shoulder the responsibilities of a newborn for a single night, or, she could hate it… which was something you desperately tried not to think too hard about, for your sanity.
Needless to say, Husk was right, your daughter really brought the best out of your friends, as they melted in her vicinity. None of the residents at the hotel had any problem looking after the adorable little demon.
Charlie had stood quietly in the lobby, humming a tune as she rocked the baby softly in her arms. Vaggie stood beside her, tilting her head as Peaches’ eyelids began to droop at the gentle motions.
“They’re as cute as the ones in Heaven, maybe cuter,” The fallen angel spoke with a smile, her hand lifting towards the little girl’s head, before tiny fingers wrapped around a single digit and clamped tight.
“And strong too, wow,” She laughed, trying to gently dislodge her finger from the steel grip.
In the hallway behind them, you turned the corner into the lobby, anxiously fiddling with your appearance as you neared the trio. Dressed in a wine-red outfit, you stumbled slightly in your heels as you navigated over the plush carpet. 
Finally, you were actually able to fit into fashionable attire. Your stomach was no longer inflated with an eight-pound baby, and the aching of your once swollen feet no longer bothered you to continue venturing the world in socks and flip-flops.
“You look really nice in that outfit!” Charlie beamed as she turned at the sounds of footsteps, and Vaggie nodded beside her. Your daughter’s eyes widened at the exclamation, before moving to your figure, tracking your figure as you joined them near the bar. 
Angel Dust was lounging on a bar stool, swishing alcohol absentmindedly inside a martini glass as he scrolled on his phone. He glanced up at the sound of Charlie’s voice, before catching a glimpse of your outfit with a knowing smirk.
“Someone is dressin’ to impress,” he playfully nudged Husk’s shoulder over the bar counter, who turned his head from the bottles he was organizing to sneak a peek. 
Everyone knew who you were trying to impress, and when you came back, they would no doubt prod you for any juicy details. 
You stopped in front of Charlie, smiling as you adjusted your outfit again. You had spent the past few hours getting ready, which also included multiple outfit changes because you were never satisfied with your appearance. You needed to look good, really good if you were going on a date with the king.
Why would Lucifer want anything to do with you? You had nothing to offer, just tired eyes and a baby on your hip. There had to be better options, surely. Just because the man never went anywhere other than his manor and the hotel, didn’t mean there wasn’t a line of demons wanting to fill the place of Charlie’s mother.
Lilith. You tried desperately not to think of her, for your own self-esteem. You had seen pictures of her, in old magazines and glimpses of family portraits in Charlie’s room. Lucifer spoke of her when talking about his daughter’s childhood or humorous memories, but he seemed to keep the reminiscing of her specifically curt around you. 
You struggled to understand why, did he think you’d react poorly to the mention of his ex-wife? Except, It wasn’t your place to act that way, though. She had been married to the king for thousands of years and was the mother of his child. She was the Queen of Hell for crying out loud! Not to mention, drop-dead gorgeous, had a fantastic voice, and cared deeply for her people’s wellbeing. 
In comparison, you were a sad sack of potatoes. At least, in your opinion. 
Self-conscious thoughts like these had slowly begun to fester during your early pregnancy, and peaked when your stomach resembled a watermelon, and, for some reason, it had decided to make a nest in your brain postpartum. Laying more seeds of anxiety and dejection deeper within your mind.
But, when Lucifer was around, it was like you could finally breathe again. His energy was warm and inviting, like taking a sip of the finest liquor and that buzz in your brain thirsting for more. It felt like snuggling your face into soft sheep's wool, nothing but comfort and relief from the harshness of the realm. 
Even if the fallen angel was no longer welcomed inside Heaven’s gates, he still retained that ethereal grace that made you feel like you were committing the largest sin just by staring too hard at those soft lips of his.
The king cared about you, in a way nobody did. He was the only demon in your group who had any experience with raising a child, and he was your support when it came to understanding the same stages of parenthood you were currently going through. In a much lesser light, of course, he had never actually birthed a child and suffered the effects of such a–literal–mind altering experience.
Tonight, you’d be able to have Lucifer all to yourself, and you were determined to make the most of it. 
You had held back from making any advances towards him for so long due to that golden band on his finger that glinted painfully in your eyes. A reminder of his attachment to his ex-wife, and the fragility of your close bond. 
What if Lilith were to come back? Would he choose her, and distance himself from you? What of you then, being dragged by the heartstrings for so long just to have them snapped in your face at his rejection?
That thought had terrified you, so you kept your feelings hidden, and let Lucifer set the pace on how far things would go. You were determined to start changing that, starting tonight.
As you came to a halt in front of Charlie and Vaggie, your daughter cooed softly, and you reached out a hand to run gentle fingers across her cheek lovingly.
“Okay, I think I’ve got everything taken care of. Bottles in the fridge you just need to warm up, first aid kit in my room, and I’ll have my phone on ring in case there’s an emergency,” you nervously triple-recounted everything in your mind.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” Charlie sent you a confident nod of her head, her fingers tightening around your baby as her smile grew.
It is then you come to realize how good of a big sister the princess could make if she were to have a younger sibling. Your heart swelled at that, as you imagined your daughter at least finding companionship in the young woman. Charlie looked like she could really pull off a stellar children’s tea party.
“I know you do, you’re always so responsible,” you replied warmly, and the princess's eyes widened for a moment, before her lips upturned into a grateful smile as you lowered your hand from your daughter’s face.
“So, where are you going?” Vaggie inquired.
“I don’t know, he just told me to wait outside my balcony door. Which means I should probably head there now, if everything is fine out here.”
“We’re good, toots!” Angel Dust called from behind Charlie, throwing his head back before downing the rest of the liquor in his glass, “Go have some fun!” 
You nodded, before wishing farewell to your daughter and the rest of the demons in the lobby before turning on your heel and heading back towards your room. 
“I hope those two have fun,” Vaggie said as you disappeared around the corner. 
“I have to use the bathroom, will you take Peaches for me?” Charlie turned towards her girlfriend, only for Angel Dust to shoot up from his seat with a large grin. 
“I would like to hold the baby!” He strolled up to the duo, and Charlie glanced over to Vaggie, before shrugging and carefully holding the little girl towards the demon. 
“C’mere, cutie!” Angel Dust beamed, arms outstretched to take the child as she kicked her feet in little baby glee. 
“You love your uncle, Angel, dontcha’?” He cooed, lifting the baby with secure hands underneath her armpits, before he leaned in and rubbed noses.
Peaches sneezed, and Angel Dust positioned her to sit in his lap at the bar counter. Husk leaned across to get a better look, before taking a claw and reaching it towards the baby.
Gently, he squished her chubby arm, trailing down towards her hand. Husk didn’t have time to retract his claw, before a tiny hand wrapped around the cat’s finger and refused to let go.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” He grumbled as he allowed your daughter to stay latched onto his digit.
You had just made it inside your room, adjusting your appearance one final time as you reached the balcony doors. Grasping the handle, you pull it open to slip outside, the lights from the city illuminating the balcony’s white tiled floor.
You turned your head to search for the fallen angel, but he was nowhere in sight. Instead, you were left to twiddle your thumbs, eyes casting towards the demons strolling the streets down the hill in the neighborhood below.
Lucifer didn’t forget about the date… did he? He was getting much better at being on time, but you still could not help to worry. 
“Hey.”
You jumped with a gasp, spinning to face the familiar voice. You had to grip the chair beside you to keep from stumbling in heels, your gaze lifting to meet those familiar, yellow eyes.
Lucifer was perched across from you on the balcony’s thin railing, one pair of his large wings stretched wide, throwing shadows across the tiles beneath your feet. The other two he kept folded at his sides, white against the crimson underbelly of his open wings.
They practically shimmered in the waning light, their shape and color unique to only one kind of being, an angel. Husk’s wings could not compare to the exotic beauty before you, and you struggled to keep eye contact with its owner as you examined the rare sight.
“Lucifer!” You scolded playfully, your eyes tracing across every feather that rustled slightly against the gentle breeze, “You scared me! What are you doing up there?”
“I apologize for the fright,” Lucifer chuckled, rising to his full height as he balanced across like a tightrope, closing the distance between the two of you, “I just thought I’d give you a peek of what tonight has to offer.”
His wings beat softly for balance, before they folded in slightly and the fallen angel lowered himself back to sit on his feet, smiling mischievously as he lowered a hand in a gesture for you to take.
“First, you should take off those heels. They look really nice, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to climb up here with them on.”
You furrowed your brows, suspicion in your gaze as he extended a hand for you to take. What was your darling king planning? 
“Why exactly am I climbing onto the railing?” You kicked off your heels, and you shivered at the cold flooring against your skin.
Your bare feet planted on the cool tiles for a few moments, before your fingers laced with Lucifer’s, and he effortlessly lifted you to stand beside him.
“Well,” He started, his fingers brushing up your wrist to grip your forearm, before steadying you with a flap of his wings, “I just thought you wanted a better mode of transportation to our little dinner than walking in those stilettos.”
“And what ‘mode’ are we talking about here?” You turned to him with widening eyes, realization slowly dawning on you.
Lucifer’s grin only widened, and you gulped. He really was serious about taking an evening flight, and you mentally prepared yourself as your gaze lowered to the long drop beneath you. You steeled your gaze towards the fallen angel, who scooted even closer.
“Are you ready?” His honeyed voice whispered in your ear, and you felt like exploding at the feeling of his touch across your waist.
Were you? Never did you guess this was what he had planned, and never did you imagine finding yourself being able to travel with your feet off the ground. Adrenaline began to pump through your veins the longer you stood there in thought.
With one final deep breath, you moved your hands to grip tightly against Lucifer’s dress shirt, and nodded your approval. Lucifer’s hold on your waist tightened, and you screwed your eyes shut just as you felt him pull you forward and off the side of the railing.
The wind whipped past your ears, your eyelids still locked shut as you clamped your mouth shut to keep from screaming. The two of you were falling fast, and for a moment you imagined Lucifer unable to lift in time, and you’d become a splatter against the grass.
Instead, you heard his other two pairs of wings unfurl and spread above you, the thrumming of heavy flaps and the feeling of being lifted once more had you cracking an eye open. The wind whistled its natural tune, and your eyelids fluttered open to see your legs dangling beneath you. 
You were very high up, as Lucifer glided across the outskirts of the city, those vibrant, flashing strobe lights that lit up the sky above V Tower passed in a multicolored blur. 
You were flying! Free and uncaged from the stress back on the ground, that weightless feeling was something you’ve never experienced all your years in Hell. The adrenaline rush that hit your body had you laughing in the thrill as the fallen angel dipped and rolled. Cars passed below you, and you waved to the pedestrians walking on the streets underneath your feet, if they even noticed your presence.
“Having fun?” Lucifer called from above, and you cocked your head up to meet his playful gaze.
“More than I ever imagined!” You replied, the wind carrying your voice to the king’s ears.
“Good, now hang on!” He laughed, and his wings tightened against his body, causing the two of you to dive with greater speed towards the buildings below. 
Your grip on Lucifer’s shirt tightened and he pulled you closer as he sped towards an illuminated rooftop below. 
Rather carefully, your feet hit the cold bricks beneath, and Lucifer released his hold around your waist to land beside you. His wings folded against his back, and with a split-second flash of golden light, they completely vanished from his frame. 
Lucifer began to walk toward the center of the rooftop, beckoning for you to join. Taking a few steps forward, your eyes follow his path, before widening at the scene. 
Powerful magic had transformed the space into a romantic, candle-lit dinner right out of the movies. The string of bulbs that cast warm light across the small, cute table before you held an intimate glow, paired with the soft, classical tune that filled the air.
A single, elegantly shaped candle stands at the center, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across your face. The table was adorned with a lace-trimmed cloth fluttering gently in the breeze. On top, there's an assortment of delectable treats—cheeses, fruits, and a selection of fine chocolates.
The backdrop is breathtaking, with the city spread out below, its lights twinkling like stars in the distance. The distant hum of traffic and city life is a soothing contrast to the quiet rooftop ambiance. 
Lucifer only smiles at you, before he pulls a chair slightly from the table and gestures for you to sit. You oblige, settling into the comfortable padded seat as he pushes the chair back in place.
He settled into the seat across from you, and you leaned over the table slightly to take a look at the charcuterie board lined with various cheese, meats, and chips. Your stomach growled, and you plucked a few items from the board and placed them on the white plate sitting before you. 
“Is everything to your liking?” Lucifer hummed, as he popped a slice of prosciutto into his mouth, before meeting your gaze.
“This is really nice,” you smiled, lifting your eyes to trace the string of lights that zig-zagged across your head, “I had expected you to just take me to a fancy restaurant, not something like this.”
“I like the atmosphere of places like these much better. Less noisy and more.. personal,” he replied, lifting another meat slice to his lips  “I just thought you needed time away from that suffocating little room, the both of us, really.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, this was very kind of you.”
Lucifer smiled softly, and heat spread across your face at his staring. You took another bite of cheese, and the king’s eyes flicked across the table and his brows furrowed.
“I feel like I’m forgetting something…” he started, rubbing his chin deep in thought, before his eyes widened as he perked, “That’s right, the wine! Waiter!”
The king snapped his fingers, and you turned your head in confusion. The rooftop was empty, save for the two of you, who could possibl–
Your thoughts were interrupted when footsteps echoed across the gravel, and a figure dressed in a black and white tuxedo strolled forward toward you. It was… another Lucifer, and your mouth dropped slightly at the familiar face, whose curly mustache bounced as he grinned.
A red bottle of wine materialized in the double’s hands, and with a loud pop the cork lid flew across the rooftop. Fizz spilled from the bottle for a few moments as the waiter stopped beside you. Lowering the bottom, he poured the empty glass in front of you to the brim, before standing straight once more.
“For you, ma chérie,” Lucifer #2 spoke with a perfect French accent, before bowing respectfully to you. 
He sent you a playful wink as he slid over to your Lucifer’s side, and lowered the wine bottle. Lucifer watched his glass fill, before shooing away his double, who backed away from the table and vanished into the shadows.
You lift the wine glass to your lips, taking a long sip of the dark red liquor. Its rich, apple flavor danced on your tongue as warmth bloomed from your stomach. 
“This is amazing! When you were talking about good wine, I didn’t think you meant this good,” you beamed, that buzz already tingling in your brain as you took another sip.
“An old recipe that’s been sitting in my cellar for, well… a few thousand years by now,” Lucifer swirled the wine in his glass, before lifting it to his lips.
As you nibble on the delicate offerings, conversation flows effortlessly between you both. The topics range from silly memories and active interests, punctuated by laughter and shared glances. Lucifer's eyes hold a warmth and depth that matches the glow of the candle, his demeanor a mix of confidence and vulnerability, as he shares with you details of his past.
Time seems to stand still as you savor each other's company, the burdens upon your shoulders vanishing for the moment, as you keep your gaze fixed on the gorgeous face across from you. The night feels infinite, filled with promise and the simple joy of being together.
Unfortunately, time passed much quicker than you hoped, as the sky above was blanketed in darkness at the late hour. Even with the giddy buzz from the wine, exhaustion was still creeping up your spine, and your eyelids were growing heavy.
Lucifer and you both stood at the same time, and when the king joined you at one end of the table, he lifted a hand toward you. It was a gesture for you to take, and when your eyes lowered, you found that the golden band usually around his finger was nowhere in sight.
Your eyes widened, and something stirred inside you. You didn’t waste any time in reaching forward and lacing your fingers with his, his touch soft and warmth bloomed from his fingertips. 
What now? Should you just lean over and kiss him? No, not on the first date, that’s silly! It must have been the buzz of the wine making all those intrusive thoughts seem very logical as you locked eyes with the king for a few moments.
But… was it really the first date? Sure, you had never spent time together so.. intimately before, but he was there for you a lot during your pregnancy. Helped you cook, filled your day with entertainment, and cared for your health, all he did by choice. 
Which is why you felt so weird asking for his help now, he had already done so much, any more and you’d feel utterly… useless.
It seemed like Lucifer wanted to say something, his brows furrowed slightly, lips moving as if he was just moments from speaking. He held his tongue though, sighing softly in the breeze as he turned his head towards the vibrant cityscape.
You followed his gaze, glimpsing the large, digital billboards a few streets away depicting lude models and VoxTek advertisements. 
“Are you sure you’re doing okay, with the baby and everything? You know you can always ask me for help, right?” Lucifer's words caught you off guard, and your head turned to meet his gaze.
Was he catching onto how much you were really struggling? You bit your lip, mind racing. You had tried so hard to seem normal, but the truth was, you felt like a different person after your baby. These emotions that refuse to leave you in peace were only creating a deeper divide between you and everyone else.
Your daughter was beautiful, and you loved her so much. But, she was still a mentally draining, constantly hungry being that begged for your attention 24/7 in the form of harsh, deafening wails. It seemed to be improving, hopefully.
“I think so,” you answered honestly, using your free hand to rub your shoulder soothingly, “It was tough for a while, but I think whatever has been bothering her is going away. Everything should be much smoother from here on out.”
Lucifer looked at you for another moment, as if he was finding it hard to believe you. He didn’t press further, instead giving your hand a supportive squeeze before tugging 
“Ready for round two?” He smiled, his wings unfurling from behind his back as stepped onto the edge of the roof beside him.
You only laughed as he pulled you close to him and the two of you fell off the side of the building. Lucifer’s wings stretched wide as they lifted the two of you towards the sky, your worries in the wind once more.
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You should have knocked on wood when you told Lucifer your daughter’s crying fits were improving, because only a few days later, it was quite the opposite. Peaches has been overcome with another intense round of colic, and her screams bounced across the bedroom as you rocked her gently in your arms.
You had spent the past hour trying to soothe her cries, to no avail. Tears pricked at your eyes as you lifted a binkie towards her mouth, it took a few moments for the little girl to even notice her outburst, before she clamped her mouth around it and began to suckle. 
Her crying turned to whimpers, which soon faded into sniffles as she suckled on the pacifier. You exhaled a sigh of relief, as you slowly lowered her into the red bassinet beside you. Carefully, you positioned her comfortably on the plush bedding, placing a small blanket snugly around her toes to keep her from waking from the cold, before you straightened again. 
What could she possibly be feeling that you were unable to help her through? You weren’t telepathic, and the mystery was only driving you mad. 
You needed fresh air, and your daughter’s wails were finally silenced long enough to be able to disappear for a few minutes and recollect yourself. With caution, you took quiet steps across the room towards the balcony doorways that were concealed behind dark red curtains. Slowly, you reached through the thick fabric to grasp at the handle, before pulling it open just a crack to slip through.
The door closed softly behind you with a barely audible click, and that large breath held in your lungs finally expelled with a heavy sigh, heavy with emotions you so desperately wanted to release from your mind in any way possible. If it meant collapsing to the ground and flooding the balcony with the outpour of unsung frustrations.
You felt so useless. Your daughter was in some kind of misery, and the effects of the constant jump to tears were starting to take a noticeable effect on the infant. She just seemed so tired, practically pleading for you to end whatever misery she could possibly be facing.
You were at your wit's end, and you stared out into the distance, your breath quickening as tears threatened to fall. You just needed some time alone, time to think, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to ask for hel–
“Boo!” A sudden voice near your ear pulled you back into reality, and your heart slammed into your chest.
This time you screamed, your back hitting the railing as you quickly pivoted to find Lucifer, perched atop the railing once more. His wings were gone now, and his smile was wide as he landed on the tile next to you.
“Ha! I got you good, didn’t I?” Lucifer laughed, and you tensed at the volume.
“Shhh!” You hissed, placing a finger to your lips and Lucifer froze.
“Sorry…” He grimaced, glancing at the glass doorway before taking a step closer toward you,  "is she asleep?” 
“Yes, I’ve been trying to get her to settle down all day… she’s been really fussy and it’s been hard,” you sighed, turning your head slightly to hide the emotion building on your face.
“Oh, I had no idea. I just swung by to ask you something, but I see you're a little preoccupied at the moment,” Lucifer chuckled nervously, concern written across his features at your glistening eyes and quivering frown.
You were having trouble containing all the horrible things you were feeling, and your body began to react to the pressure that was threatening to burst inside of you. Inhaling a shaking breath, you crossed your arms and held them close to your chest, your heart beating rapidly. 
“Hey... are you okay?” You felt a hand softly grasp your forearm, and that warm touch was what had you coming undone before the king.
Tears poured down your cheeks, your body shaking with sobs as you slammed a hand over your mouth to hold back the anguished, raw sounds that were begging to be set free. 
You felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be in a really long time. The weight of your emotions crashed over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf you in its depth. 
You felt a hand soothingly rub circles into your back, another one on your forearm as the king tried his best to show his support through silent gestures. You choked back another sob, straightening in embarrassment and you regained control of your composure. 
“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, face twisting as you tried to compose yourself, “I’m trying to be a good mother, but it must be obvious how terrible of one I am.”
“What? Don’t say that!” Lucifer shook his head quickly, lips curving into a nervous smile as he spoke, “You’re doing a great job, nobody thinks otherwise.”
“I’m sure,” you replied bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“Times like these can be really hard, I understand how you fee–”
“You don’t, though!” You snapped, lifting a hand to harshly rub your face free of the river running down your cheeks.
“Okay, maybe that's true, but I'm just worried about you, you’ve been—!”
Crying erupted from behind the door, and Lucifer’s mouth clamped shut at the sudden interruption. You jumped at the noise, one hand quickly reaching backward to grasp at the doorknob.
“I’m sorry, she’s crying again and I need to go. If you want to help so badly, come back another time!” the words spilled from your lips in a single breath, and your body moved past the threshold of the doorway as you turned away from the fallen angel.
“Wait! Please let me-!” 
The door locked into place, ceasing the desperate words from the other side. You couldn’t bear to listen any longer, embarrassed by your childish outburst of emotions.
Resting your forehead against the wooden surface, you squeezed your eyes shut, collecting yourself. Your daughter screamed for you across the room, only intensifying the ringing in your ears and pushing the tears to spill faster down your cheeks.
You saw Lucifer’s shadow behind the curtains for a few moments longer, before his silhouette backed away and disappeared over the railing. You rubbed a hand across your face as your daughter screamed, growling at yourself before you stalked towards the crib.
It had only been a few days later, when you heard your daughter's whimpers begin from across the room in her red bassinet sometime in the very early morning hours. You groaned, so comfortable in your nest of pillows and weighted blankets to heed her noisy demands.
You were exhausted, and for once there had been hope that you’d catch a few more hours before having to awake. Peaches wasn’t crying, though, not like her usual wails. You were still in the clutches of sleep, and your consciousness was drifting in and out, and the sounds around you were dampened by the dreamy state.
Then, something else joined the soft whimpers, a faint voice that had you stirring awake with heavy eyelids and sliding the plush covers from your figure. A rich, melodious tone hit your ears, delicate and soothing in the night. 
It sounded… like a violin. It was hauntingly beautiful, a lone siren in the stillness as it lulled your daughter into a deep sleep.
You lifted yourself from the warmth of the sheets, the cold air kissing your bare skin as you slid to the edge of your bed, eyes squinted to see through the darkness towards the corner. In the maroon lighting that escaped through a slit between the curtains of the balcony doors, you could make out some shadowed figure hunched slightly above the crib, your view limited by the small dining table in between you and the stranger.
Quietly, you slid over to the edge of the bed, before planting your feet softly against the plush rug underneath. You took careful steps as you snuck around the table in the center of your room, the music growing louder as you neared the bassinet.
Slowly, you peeked from behind the dining chair, your gaze followed the dappled, red light from the curtains, as they lit the features of a familiar, pearlescent skin with a ruby-like glow.
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Lucifer.
His movements were graceful, like a swan, as he slid the bow across the strings, which glowed a subtle golden light as the heavenly melody left the instrument and filled your body with awe. His gaze fixed on the tiny figure nestled inside the crib, his features concentrated as he continued to play.
You only watched, silent as the lullaby began to damper, and the bow’s movements slowed. Soon, the music ceased, and Lucifer lowered the bow to his lap as he took a seat on a sofa behind him wearing a satisfied expression. Your heart swelled with emotion at the realization of the love behind his actions, and you took another step forward.
“Lucifer?” 
The king jumped at your voice, his fingers tightening around the instrument in his hold as he slowly turned his head with a large, innocent grin.
“Heyyyyy,” Lucifer replied awkwardly, lowering the violin from his shoulder, and setting it down onto the cushion beside him. 
The fallen angel met your gaze once more with an apologetic smile, rubbing his neck uneasily. He was trying to quiet without waking you, which he did the opposite, and it was rather awkward with his intrusion to soothe your daughter. You quietly moved forward, closing the distance between the two of you he chuckled nervously.
“I’m sorry for not announcing my presence, you told me to come back another time, then I just heard her crying and–”
Lucifer’s words caught in his throat, pupils dilating as your fingers came up to slowly brush across his chin, before settling to gently cup his cheek. Your thumb softly grazed across those red cheeks of his, and the tension in the fallen angel’s limbs subsided at your caring touch.
You didn’t know what had come upon you, but the craving to be close to this pure-intentioned being, in a literal and figurative sense, outweighed any thoughts of keeping your feelings at bay anymore. 
“Why are you so good to me?” You whispered, lips beginning to quiver.
Lucifer’s gaze softened, and he melted in your palm. Warmth spread across your fingers, easing the ache in your muscles and deep in your bones, as euphoria overcame you. 
“Because you’re one of the only good things left in my life,” he replied, his voice tight with emotion, as if he was choking back tears, “You, Charlie, and…”
Lucifer trailed off as his eyes lowered to your sleeping daughter, adoration in his gaze. It was pure love, the kind that lasted for an eternity. Your heart swelled at that, and lifting a hand to his other cheek, you cupped his face and smiled warmly.
“Can I kiss you?” 
“Kiss me? Well–ha–I don’t find anything wrong with tha–” Lucifer’s stammered reply was cut off once more as you pulled him forward into your embrace.
You pressed your lips to his, they were warm and soft, and you drank in the sweetness of Lucifer’s aroma, nibbling slightly at his bottom lip. You felt his hands slide to your waist, before grasping gently and pulling you flush against his chest. 
Lucifer leaned backward slowly, his back hitting the support of the sofa and you shifted to fully rest against him, your lips moving to delicately graze across his chin, and you felt his heart quicken at the touch.
Lucifer’s breath hitched slightly as your lips traced along his jawline, you lingered for a moment, feeling the warmth of his breath on your cheek. His hands, still at your waist, tightened ever so slightly. The softness of his lips beckoned, and you closed the remaining distance, meeting in a tender, lingering kiss. 
Your eyelids were heavy, and you slowly broke the kiss and let your head fall into the warmth of the fallen angel's chest, tightening your hold around him and snuggling closer.
“Thank you, for putting her to sleep,” you murmured into Lucifer’s shirt, before feeling claws slide up to your back, caressing the area softly as he hummed a reply.
The two of you embraced silently, lost in the intimacy as you listened to the gentle thrum of his heart, and he continued drawing circles in your back with pleasurable movements. You felt yourself drifting into slumber once more, and your breath slowed as you heeded your body’s exhausted demands.
“You should come stay at my manor,” Lucifer whispered above you, his chin resting gently against the top of your head. 
Your eyelids fluttered open at that, sleep in the back of your mind at his words as you lifted your head to meet his gaze with a raised, disbelieving brow.
“What?”
Lucifer’s lips tightened, and his eyes bounced across the room as he struggled to formulate a response.
“Well, I–I mean, it would be a lot better than staying here, right? I could hire you as my… private chef! That way, you would make your own money to support yourself. You could even have a whole wing of the manor if you wanted, also a big nursery, a private kitchen, and a master bedroom as big as this entire living space!”
Your mouth opened slightly, head spinning. Live in the same house as Lucifer? The royal manor to call home? Probably the most luxurious and non-hellish place to exist in all the seven rings? He sounded completely serious, and you never expected him to make such a bold offer. You’d also be able to support yourself independently by working as Lucifer’s ‘private chef’, save for the free room and board.
“And, of course, you get to permit who comes and goes in that area, so if you wanted to keep everyone, including me, out…you could do that, too.”
Lucifer’s tone sank slightly as those words left his lips, and your brows furrowed in thought. 
“We’ll you give me time to think about it?” You asked slowly.
“Of course!” Lucifer nodded with a satisfied smile, content you were even considering his sudden proposition, “Take all the time you need.”
The two of you fell back into comfortable silence, and stayed locked in an embrace for the rest of the morning, and the crimson light peeking through the curtains began to lighten with the coming dawn. Even as you drifted into sleep, Lucifer’s words lingered in your mind as you slipped from consciousness.
They continued to linger the following evening, as you spilled your heart out to Angel Dust at the bar, your face in your hands as you recalled verbatim. He sipped from his glass of alcohol, lips set in thought as he listened intently. 
Out of everyone in the hotel, you didn’t know why you went to Angel for advice, especially in dealing with romance, but you told him everything nonetheless. About going to live with Lucifer, all the help he’s been to you thus far, and the encounter with him earlier. You even gave him a brief glimpse into the… physical intimacy the two of you also had shared earlier.
“I think ya should do it,” Angel Dust said after a few moments of silence, downing the remaining liquor in his glass, before turning to you. You lifted your head from your hands, you met his gaze with surprise written across your features.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, placing one hand supportively on your shoulder as he continued, “Now I ain’t tryna be mean to ya, but… the hotel was a great place for you before the baby, but with our track record with keeping this place from being attacked by thugs and angels, it mayyy not be so good for the actual baby. Ya get me?”
You took a sip of the water in front of you, nodding slowly as the answer you had been searching for finally settled on your shoulders. You turned to face the spider demon, your lips curving into a small frown and he tilted his head at you.
“I’m really going to miss you guys,” you murmured, rubbing your hands together self-soothing.
“Oh, you’re gonna make me cry, toots! C’mere!,” Angel Dust wrapped all four arms around you, and you returned the embrace with a tight grip. 
And wow, his fuzz was soft. You finally understood the appeal as you held your friend close. Even though in retrospect you had only known the porn star for a short amount of time, the bond you shared was heartwarming and kind. One of the few relationships of Angel’s that didn’t devolve into debauchery and drugs. 
Two hours later, you stood in front of Charlie, hands once again rubbing together in an attempt to soothe the nerves that were making it difficult to hold eye contact with the princess as you filled her in on the decision regarding your future. You planned to move into the manor, and raise the baby in a place that most resembled a home, instead of growing up in a hotel room.
“You’re going to go live with my dad?” She asked slowly, her brows furrowed at your words.
You tensed. Was she apprehensive of the idea?
“Yes, but it’s nothing crazy like I’m getting with your dad or anything… haha.. yeah,” you trailed off, because you were feeling like that may turn out to be untrue sooner than later.
At least, you hoped they did. For now, it was just something along the lines of roommates, even with how silly that sounded in your head.
“Well…” She began, rubbing her chin in thought, and sweat beaded down your forehead as she continued, “I think… it's a wonderful idea! I really enjoyed growing up there, and I’m sure your daughter would too!”
Phew. You exhaled a sigh of relief, the tension leaving your body and your shoulders relaxed. 
With Charlie’s blessing, it was all you needed to give Lucifer the news. He practically jumped for joy as you gave him your answer, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“I have to baby-proof the whole place beforehand!” he had proclaimed, racing around the makeshift room he had been staying in the past few days as he grabbed his cane. 
“She won’t even be able to crawl for a while longer,” you had laughed with a raised brow.
“I can’t afford anything less than perfect,” Lucifer shook his head, grabbing his coat and hat to get everything ready as soon as possible, “Don’t worry, I’ve got the power of creation, remember? It’ll only be a jiffy.”
The king had literally exploded into a burst of confetti, a sizzle of magic zapping him out of the room and away to the manor. You had blinked, the colored paper mache settling on your shoulders as you turned towards the hallway.
It seemed like the only thing that was left was to start packing, and so away you worked for the next few hours. 
Peaches was swaddled tightly against your chest in a makeshift baby wrap, made from a sheet of fabric that held her close and secure to you while you placed clothes and other items into organized boxes.
Lucifer had been back in a jiffy, appearing at your door right as you finished stuffing everything away into storage. It took a snap of his finger for all of your things to go poof in a cloud of red smoke, and the king had summoned a limo to take the three of you back to the manor, since traveling with magic was risky with an infant. 
You had stood on the front steps of the hotel, trying to contain the tears as you wished farewell to your friends. They watched you leave with furrowed brows, and Charlie had even sniffled once as you and your daughter climbed into the white vehicle. 
“Come by and visit us sometime!” Charlie called as the limo pulled off from the curve and you leaned out the window for a final wave as the hotel disappeared from view.
When you arrived at that glittering, white, and gold royal home, you were met with tall, imposing statues depicting regal figures from centuries past, their stony gazes fixed upon the entrance. As the limo pulled up to the front steps, you noticed the large gardens surrounding the manor, each flower seemingly in perfect bloom despite the season. Fountains sprayed later spouts of water up in the air, before cascading down into glittering pools.
“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Lucifer had smiled as you took your tour around the premises, examining the once-neatly trimmed bushes that lined the place.
There were no imp servants, or attendees at all really, which explained why the place was beginning to look overgrown by the hellish flora. Large red vines climbed up the manor’s side, a few even weaved across large panes of glass, windows that would have once offered a beautiful sight. 
It appeared the current homeowner was not doing a very good job maintaining the place, and you weren’t going to let this place rot any longer. You’d have to add landscaping to the job description when you felt good enough to do such heavy tasks.
Right as you stepped through those large, golden doors, you were greeted with crystal chandeliers that illuminated a giant corridor. Plush, red carpet met your feet as you a few more steps inside, your eyes tracing over the array of paintings and sculptures lining the walls, along with a few family portraits and other elegant decor. 
It was clear that the interior was designed by the women of the house, the lack of circus decor even prevalent inside the Hazbin Hotel was nowhere in sight. As you followed Lucifer down the hallway, you guessed his withdrawals had given him no strength to change the house to his liking. You stepped through a tall, open doorway into what seemed to be a parlor.
Lucifer paused, turning to you with a warm smile as you joined him with your daughter in your arms inside the living space. You took in the sight of velvet couches circling a large fireplace and a small bar snug against the opposite wall, bottles of liquor lining the racks behind the counter.
"Welcome home," he said, his voice soft as he turned. Peaches cooed softly, seemingly content in the entrancing, shiny surroundings. You followed Lucifer down another large corridor, and he began to give a proper tour of the residency.
You didn’t realize how big this place really was until he showed you the third parlor in the house. This one had more tables, seemingly for dining primarily, but with a similar fireplace nestled in one of the walls near two, red armchairs. 
When Lucifer said you’d have large, private areas, you assumed he was just being generous and giving you some of his dwellings. Now, you knew that wasn’t the case, as there was definitely enough for the both of you between three large bathrooms, five bedrooms, and two dining rooms. 
It took a few days to settle in, as Lucifer helped you unpack your things with easy magic and you found renewed energy in making the nursery perfect for your daughter.
It was clear, from day one, that the two of you were going to be just roommates, when you found yourself stealing kick kisses from him as you organized the nursery, or when his hand found your waist as you rocked Peaches to sleep in your arms some days. Some nights, you found yourself playfully bantering with the fallen angel in front of the fireplace, a glass of wine in your hands as gentle music played in the back. 
Lucifer’s presence and companionship seemed to be what you needed for your emotions to begin to stabilize, along with the fact that you had practically an entire mansion to yourself, instead of sharing the living areas with a large group of demons like back at the hotel. 
The king wasn’t holed up in his home all the time anymore, as he joined his daughter in promoting the hotel and actually making an effort to go to a meeting here and there. He had a purpose now, and you noticed that subtle ethereal radiance that lined his figure began to glow brighter with each passing day.
Lucifer’s social battery was still adjusting to the changes in his daily routines, and some nights he’d return with heavy eyelids and sluggish steps, as if he had returned from a battle against Heaven.
You had been sitting in the front parlor one cozy night, a book in your hand as you waited for the king’s return. He usually wasn’t gone so long, and the dinner you had made had gone cold, so all there was to do was sit around and wait.
Your daughter’s colic seemed to have tapered off by now, as it has already been a few weeks since you arrived at the manor. This was a relief, and you found yourself sleeping much longer, your energy and patience naturally returning. 
That fear of being useless began to dissipate, now that you were able to enjoy time in the kitchen, testing out new receipts for Lucifer as his chef. He paid you very handsomely, even though you rarely did cook as you recovered from postpartum and kept busy with the baby.
You didn’t complain though, it was nice to see a paycheck that could actually cover all your groceries and bills, if you actually paid any of the bills around here... did Lucifer even have bills?
Your thoughts were cut off when the sound of heeled boots thumped across the corridor right outside the room, and the book in your hands lowered to the coffee table in front of you. 
Lucifer kicked off his boots at the door to the parlor, his hooves meeting the carpet as they dragged towards the couch you were lazing on. His blonde was hair disheveled, and some of the gold buttons on his vest were unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of what lay below his collarbone.
He looked exhausted, his eyes tiredly frog-blinking as he fell against the cushions beside you, before exhaling a long, drawn-out sigh. 
“Rough day?” You whispered softly, and he turned his head slightly to face you.
“Just.. a lot,” was Lucifer’s response, his eyelids fluttering close for a few moments as he drank in the warmth from the crackling fire nearby.
You watched the fallen angel for a few more moments, his breath rising and falling slowly as he relaxed. His skin practically glowed against the soft colors thrown across the room from the dancing flames. A thought crossed your mind, and hesitantly, you reached a hand to Lucifer’s shoulder.
You felt him tense slightly from your touch, before relaxing slowly as you gripped his shoulder and forearm and began tugging him to lay down against you. He turned his head, raising a brow as he began to lean against you.
“Come here,” you smiled warmly, as you pulled him to fall over against you.
Lucifer’s head softly landed on your lap, his face upturned towards the ceiling as you smiled down at him. He watched the orange light reflect against your skin, enhancing your already perfect features. 
You lifted a hand towards his face, before you began to gently brush your fingers through his hair. Your nails grazed against the king’s scalp and a satisfied sigh left his lips. A hum reached his ears, as you quietly filled the room, with the soft tune. 
Something stirred inside the king, and emotions began bubbling up into his throat, and he could barely contain them as his lips parted.
“Can I tell you something?” Lucifer whispered after a moment.
“Of course,” you nodded, tilting your head down to him.
“I think… that I’m in love with you.”
Those words had your hands stilling against his scalp, and your breath hitched.
Lucifer in love with you? 
Oh, the joy you felt, at finally hearing those words you only had dreamed of for so long. Your grin spreading ear to ear as heat crept across your cheeks.
“Oh, you silly man,” you laughed softly down to the nervous face in your lap, before you gripped Lucifer by the collar and pulled him up from your lap.
You leaned down and pressed your lips softly to his, and the king rose the rest of the way on his own. He pulled you against him, as his back hit the cushions and you pivoted to straddle him as the kiss deepened. 
Lucifer’s arms were snaked around your waist, and your hands cupped both sides of his face as the two of you were lost in this intimate, quiet moment of affection finally revealed.
Time flew by fast after that, once your daily routines began to settle into place. Lucifer began to step in more in raising the baby, and sometimes you’d find your daughter in his arms, and a sweet, soothing tune coming from his lips.
You’d stand there, leaning against the nursery doorway as you watched with a warm smile. Peaches was beginning to like–no, love him. You could tell when she started to let him dress her up without her usual stink eye. She was now able to sit up and speak in her own, unique form of baby talk.
“Stop moving,” You had heard Lucifer laugh one day from inside the large bedroom, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be!”
A string of incomprehensible sounds followed, high-pitched babbling from the tiny figure in response.
“Hey, don’t give me attitude, missy!” You heard playful chastising from the king, and you turned into the doorway to see his back towards you, as he kneeled over your daughter. 
Her tiny legs kicked in protest as he wrangled something onto her, and you took a few steps into the room before announcing your presence.
“Lucifer…?” You started, nearing the bed.
He jumped at your voice, before pivoting to face you with an innocent smile. Your daughter was visible now, some kind of bright yellow fabric around her head and hugging the rest of her body.
“Hey! Don’t mind us, we're just testing something!” Lucifer’s smile widened.
“Testing what?” You asked with a smile.
Lucifer’s smile turned playful as he turned back to your daughter and lifted her towards you, and your eyes widened.
Peaches was dressed in a fuzzy, yellow duck onesie. Its head was designed into a hood that was pulled over her head, the orange beaking sticking out and resting slightly on her forehead. She babbled something incoherent with an open, gummed smile, something probably along the lines of ‘Look! Don’t I look so gosh darn cute?’
“I pulled out some of Charlie’s baby clothes from storage, and funny enough they fit Peaches just fine,” Lucifer continued, placing his cheek against your daughter’s and rubbing it affectionately with puckered lips, “She is so adowable in her wittle onesie, huh?”
“Yes, she is!” You cooed, leaning forward to pinch one of her cheeks with a grin.
The three of you were beginning to turn into a proper family, and it became obvious when Lucifer started making breakfast for the three of you in the early mornings, despite paying you for such tasks.
“You know that's my job, right?” You quirked a brow as Lucifer stood in front of the stone, flipping large, fluffy pancakes in a pan, before placing them upon a steaming pile of deliciousness. 
“You have days off, don’t you?” He hummed in response, turning off the stove and sliding the plate into his hands, “Will you grab the syrup for me, please?”
You opened the cupboards nearby, grabbing the large bottle of syrup as you followed him toward the dining area, your daughter playing with a rattle on the floor near the long table. She was able to crawl now, a speedy little demon that took off as soon as you turned the other way. 
Luckily, Lucifer had baby gates to help with that, and now she was easily confined into any room for fear of escaping. Her tiny stomach growled and she lifted her gaze from the toy as you and Lucifer stepped over the gate. 
Peaches squealed with happiness, and began to crawl towards you, her hands plapping against the tile as she moved. She slowed right next to the last dining chair at the table, before her head lifted to examine it for a moment. 
Your daughter began to lift herself onto two feet as she gripped the dining chair’s leg. She was getting good at standing by herself, but she had never managed to successfully step forward and not flop back onto her butt. 
You set the syrup on the dining table, ignoring her movements as first as you helped set the table. It wasn’t until you turned to place her into the high chair, did you watch your daughter’s foot begin to lift.
Peaches took one step forward, wobbling slightly as she tried to regain balance. Your mouth dropped, and your arm reached out to grip the back of Lucifer’s shirt and tug him beside you.
“What’s going on, why are yo–” Lucifer froze beside you, as your daughter lifted the other foot and took another wobbly step forward.
She had never remained on two feet for this long, and she didn’t look like she was stopping yet. Lucifer quickly lowered onto his knees, and you joined him as he stretched out his arms.
“Peaches, come on!” He called to the little girl, who was only a foot away from the two as she smiled at the fallen angel and took another step closer.
You joined him, cheering for your daughter as she took another step, and another, and then she reached out her little arms towards the two of you. She took the final step, before she lost total balance and fell forward.
The both of you jumped forward and embraced Peaches at once, the three of you in a tight huddle of affection as your daughter giggled against your chest. 
You peppered kisses against her forehead, tears pricking at your eyes as you lifted them to meet Lucifer’s gaze. His eyes were glistening as well, and you leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his lips, your smile large and brilliant. 
It was clear now, that your little family had grown to include another, and you were so thrilled it was Lucifer. Your ex, and the fears that came with his betrayal began to dissipate from your mind, and a tear rolled down your cheek in happiness. 
From that day on, you promised to make sure that your little girl would always have a father in her life, although it seems like you’ve already found the one who would cherish her for the rest of eternity.
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“Psst, Mom!” 
You grumbled incoherently, still in the clutches of sleep as the voice rudely interrupted the nice dream you had been having in the early hours of the morning.
“Moooooommmm, wake up!”
You stirred awake at the voice hissing in your ear, your eyes fluttering open inside the dark master bedroom of the manor. Someone was standing right in front of you, a short figure tapping her foot impatiently as you lifted your head from the pillows.
The room was still covered in blackness, the morning light unable to escape through the blackout curtains blanketing the large bedroom. You could see the outline of a small figure in the shadows at the edge of your bed, illuminated by the open doorway behind her.
“What is it, baby?” You rubbed your tired eyes, turning to face your daughter.
Peaches was much older now, the name long outgrown her as she aged from toddler, to child, to girl. She resembled a nine year old now, that cute baby fat gone from her limbs, and her chubby little cheeks beginning to sharpen into gorgeous features. 
“Can I go with Charlie to the mall? She said she’ll pick me up in an hour if that’s okay.”
Charlie and your daughter had been doing everything together lately, which you guessed was because of the older woman’s joy in having a little sister she could take under her wing. They may not be related by blood, but nobody could tell the difference with the bond those two shared.
Peaches often assisted her at the now-bustling hotel, learning how to best help the inhabitants of Hell through the teachings of her sisterly figure. 
“Sure, tell Charlie I said hi,” you nodded with a smile, and your daughter bounced giddily on her toes.
“Yay! Thank you, mom!” She lowered her face down to leave a quick kiss on your cheek, wrapping her arms around your neck for a tight hug before backing away, “I Love you, see you later!”
You watched her rush out of the room with a slip in her step, the door closing softly behind her. 
“What was all that about?” A voice tiredly mumbled beside you, and warm arms snaked around your waist. 
You laid your head back against the pillow, repositioning your body to face toward the naked figure beside you.
“She just wanted to go out and have some fun with Charlie,” you replied to the tired, pearly face before you, his blonde hair disheveled around him as he blinked the sleep away with a yawn.
“Those two are like glue, nowadays,” your husband, Lucifer, yawned, pulling you flush against his bare chest in one smooth motion.
You snuggled your face into the crook of his neck, placing wet kisses across his skin, earning a pleasurable noise from his throat. 
“Should we get up and make some breakfast?” You asked into his skin.
“Five more minutes,” you heard him mutter, as he rubbed his cheek against yours affectionately.
That gives me five more minutes to think about how lucky I am to have you by my side.
“Okay,” you smiled softly, placing a loving kiss against his forehead before snuggling closer, “Five more minutes.” 
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woah lots of emotions in this one, good thing everything worked out in the end, eh? the art was done by indxlulu over on twt, go check out some of their other work!
what did you think? let me know! <3
tags 🏷️
@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0 @yourlocalgoldenretrieverboy @wpdarlingpan @halo-balo @chipper-chip @lvstyangel @acrazyartist @midorichoco @xoxohugslove @ivebeenthearchersstuff @indestructeible @otherthoughtsofbu
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primaviva · 8 months
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ICKS
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PAIRINGS: gwen stacy, miles morales (42 included) hobie brown, pavitr prabhakar, miguel o’hara x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS: things that give the teens and adults major icks from their girlfriends and crushes.
WARNINGS: mentions of toxic traits within relationships such as controlling behavior, privacy and boundary violations, etc. also not proof read !!
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— GWEN STACY
to start, gwen is pretty easy going so it would take a lot for her to get the ick from her girlfriend or a girl she likes
PRIVACY: gwen wants her privacy and she will definitely start grimacing at you when you don’t respect her need for alone time or give her space when she wants.
this is like a definite turn-off for her and a major ick because she wants someone who will support her even from a distance and if you keep tryna force her out of her time alone… yeah you gotta go in her mind
TERRITORIAL: it’s not that gwen doesn’t like a jealousy moment. if she sees you death staring at someone who’s looking at her or tryna flirt with her while you’re right next to her because she loves when you get all sassy or jealous. she finds it cute.
buuuut that’s completely different from toxic jealousy like borderline territoriality. gwen does not want someone on her case 24/7. she will get the ick if she notices you constantly blowing up her phone. gwen has a life that she balances outside of being ghost spider and if you are spamming her texts when she just wants to hang w her friends and not you just for a moment then congrats cus she’s sticking her tongue out turning green ICK!!
EFFORT: gwen wants her partner to be motivated and just try for things instead of doing the bare minimum or something close to that.
example. if you wear sweats to dates or just basic outfits that look like you don’t care or show up a mess and you don’t have a real reason for it. she gets that life can be hard and she’s had a fair share of just putting on clothes for the sake of getting dressed. however, if you just do that just cus you don’t care you will have her so irritated. gwen is a fashion girl and is always trying to look good and attractive to you when she gets dressed for dates and if you always showing up lookin like adam sandler for the murder mystery movie premiere then i'm sorry but it’s not gonna work for her at all
“how did i come dressed in multiple layers of clothing and jewelry but you somehow, someway came to the conclusion to wear a soccer moms everyday work clothes? you can’t be doing this to me.”
RESPECT: gwen does not want a girlfriend who’s gonna act all high maintenance or try to make her do things she doesn’t want. if you’re always trying to change her or peer pressure her to do stuff that isn’t her personality she will start getting mad at you
example. she tells you that she isn’t comfortable with obvious pda yet you try to kiss her in public anyway
if you don’t respect how she feels as an equal then she can't be with with you it’s that simple
LEGALITY AND MORALITY: gwen wouldn’t be able to deal with someone who breaks the law that’s not for the good of others or does things they shouldn’t be doing. she would get the ick if her girlfriend smoked, did drugs, shoplifted, etc.
she would not get the ick per say just from seeing you smoke but gwen’s dad raised her by the book and she wouldn’t feel too comfortable being with her girlfriend or crush who does stuff she was raised to say is bad
unless you smoke or do other things for stress relief, she would be understanding but still try and get you out of it just for your own sake. but if you do stuff just to do it then it’s a bit of a dealbreaker for her. gwen will not have a girlfriend who’s face is posted on the door of fine fare cus she was caught shoplifting paper plates
MUSIC: this really isn’t an ick but if you have music taste she deems bad… and that’s gonna take a lot considering that gwen listens to everything but country like you would have to be born and raised in ohio for her to get the ick because of your playlists
and this wouldn’t be a deal breaker because she would gladly put you on with songs but if you disrespect her taste in music like that may be her third biggest turn-off after privacy and respect.
if you have even one country song on the playlist she might start violently convulsing
she’s a drummer so rock and alternative music is rooted in her passion so if her girl didn’t like her music taste or her bands music she would struggle a bit…. a lot
and if we talk about ICKS she can’t even say anything because she probably chews with her mouth open and gets her hands dirty cus this woman eats fast food crazy. she would hate it if you said cringe stuff in like a non satire way like if she caught you saying sum like “not in my christian minecraft server”
“babe, it’s 2023… not 2018 so don’t make me break up with you, okay?”
to summarize, gwen icks at if her girlfriend or crush doesn’t like her music taste because she can’t deal with someone who doesn’t appreciate something she’s passionate about, she doesn’t want someone who is overly clingy and controlling of her whereabouts especially if you don’t know she’s spiderwoman or she’s just wants to hang with her friends, she needs someone who will respect her privacy and her boundaries, she doesn’t want someone who she knows her dad will not like for their bad actions, and she wants someone who tries just as hard as her in what they do.
— HOBIE BROWN
hobie is another one where it’s hard to give him the ick
BOUNDARIES: he doesn’t want someone who is overly clingy or attached to his side. hobie wants his partner to have their own life and he can recognize when it’s unhealthy that two people in a relationship are closing themselves off to their friends for the sake of being together every moment. this also goes hand in hand with if all you want to do is has sex with him because to him, it’s more than just a high libido but you’re just using him physically. and don’t get him wrong he is just fine with a partner with a high libido but a constant demand for sex… he’s gonna raise an eyebrow.
“can ya like not try and claw my clothes right off for a minute? damn.”
but if he tells you something and you do it anyway it’s a total ick for him when he gives you something you’re supposed to respect but don’t.
example. if he asked for time alone to be absorbed in his own music cus it’s what he needs and you ignore it to do the exact opposite… very off-putting and weird to him
COMMUNICATION: communication is very important to hobie. he thinks it’s very important that partners comunícate their issues to each other or else it just leads to problems along the way
that being said, hobie hates it when you don’t tell him something. not in the sense that something happened to you and you won’t open up about it because he would never force that information out of you. however, if something is wrong and you just choose not to tell him? he absolutely hates that. it would just hurt him if you didn’t trust him to speak your mind or feel comfortable enough, especially since he’s always there for you
he will hate it even more when you lie to him like that’s a borderline deal breaker if you are constantly lying or doing half lies
IMMORAL: he doesn’t want somebody who has a bad moral compass and chooses to do bad things. and bad things don’t mean bad choices, it means someone who steals from others who are struggling themselves, someone who is rude to people for no reason, etc.
this is also related to if his girl is unfaithful as in if she flirts with others, entertains other guys or girls, and if she outright cheats or sleeps with someone else
this is a definite “you gots to go” situation
BORING: hobie is always tryna have fun and live in the moment and if the girl he likes or is dating can't do that then the relationship is doomed.
“ya gotta stop bein’ a downer on the mood doll. learn to live a little for once in yer life, yeah?”
by boring, i mean someone who can’t let loose and try to have fun. if you are super uptight, overly critical, or just don’t get his sense of humor or even have one then he’s gonna get the ick because he doesn’t want someone killing his vibe by taking everything too seriously or refusing to try and live a little
he also doesn’t want a drama queen like if you do way too much… yeah no
MUSIC: similar to gwen, if you don’t like his music taste he’s not sure if he will be able to continue the relationship
yes, this sounds like a big deal but you have to understand that music is a big part of his life and is one of his passions. it’s one thing to simply not be into rock and even that he’s iffy on, but for you to dislike it completely or drag it on? hobie wouldn’t be able to stand it
to summarize, hobie needs someone who’s gonna understanding his passion for music like him, he also doesn’t want someone who’s immoral and actively makes bad choices that they don’t need to, he also wants someone who can communicate to him as well as respects what he communicates back, and he desires someone who can match his energy
— MILES AND MILES G. MORALES
miles knows the type of people he wants around him so if he saw his girlfriend or crush doing any of these things he would definitely get the ick
MORALS: if you are objectively a bad person like just being mean for no reason, making offense joke (racism, transphobia, body image, etc) and passing it as your “sense of humor” or just literally anything where you are actively trying to disrupt someone’s peace he is literally fake vomiting at you
example. you see a girl wearing a perfectly fine outfit, not something crazy looking or anything, and make a rude comment involving her normal sense of style, body, looks, etc he is just turned all the way off
miles doesn’t want someone with an ego or someone who doesn’t show empathy for others so…ICK
NEEDY: miles wants a girl who is independent and has her own interests. so if his girlfriend or crush is always trying to hang out with him when he is trying to do his own thing or link with friends of his own but they won’t leave him alone? yeah it won’t work out.
he likes it when he knows his girl can take care of herself, even if he does like to play the protective role. but miles also knows that he has to balance life as a superhero, boyfriend, son, and friend to those around him and if you just make that more hard for him then he will get frustrated with the clinginess when he just wants to spend time with his loved ones. to an extent, he thinks a clingy girlfriend is cute! but overdoing it is just annoying and in a way takes away his own freedom to do things he wants.
example. his crush or girlfriend constantly trying to be next to him no matter what, especially in public when they are with friends or if they are both invited to a hangout and miles says he won’t go so his girl says she won’t go either just because he isn’t going (not because you know no one there, but only because miles isn’t doing it)
TRUST: trust is a big thing for miles. he wants to be vulnerable with his girlfriend and also be able to confide in her as well as get that same treatment back. if miles notices that you don’t have his back as much as you should, he will get a weird feeling from it but also very irritated because he feels he is there for you and as a girlfriend you should be giving the same energy back— if not more.
this also includes lying. miles hates it when you lie to him even if it’s a half lie or the “bended” truth. he takes it as a sign of dishonesty and that you may not be as loyal as he thought. he also counts lying as if you don’t tell him something and brush it off by saying everything is fine with you when it clearly isn’t.
“i don’t know why you saying you good when you clearly have a problem. you can talk to me, you know that right?”
it would physically kill him if you pulled a “well…” and then said nvm because that’s something he hates the most cus now he’s gonna be wondering what it was until you tell him. it will haunt him.
PRESSURE: miles doesn’t want to be pressured into doing things or guilt tripped. sometimes he doesn’t feel like going on a date or hanging out, but if you make him feel a certain way for choosing to be indoors and reading he will feel bad and force himself to do whatever you wanted to do. he doesn’t want that.
miles wants to feel comfortable in his relationship with you and doesn’t want to feel like he needs to conform to your needs and wants in fear that it will distort the idea you have of him. he doesn’t want to be taken away from his hobbies and interest that give him peace from the chaotic lifestyle he has, meaning that he really values his alone time to just be with himself.
DIRECTNESS: miles does not want to chase you and get down on his knees just for you to be honest or say how you feel. he also doesn’t what you to feel pressured but at the same time will get a little frustrated if you can’t open up to him even if he does understand. at the same time, miles doesn’t want you doing the silent treatment, playing mind games, or trying to make him jealous. that is one of his define icks because why are you purposely trying to ruin his mood and be petty?
BAD ATTITUDE: he hates it when you go out of your way to be disrespectful to someone who doesn’t deserve it.
example. his girlfriend or crush is rude to other people for the sake of looking “badass” while he tells you to just chill
and if you talk bad on your mama? if you just talk bad on your family when they don’t deserve it in general…it’s a definite ick because of how important his family is
example. if you have a mom or female guardian in your life and call them out of their name, make disrespectful comments, etc when they do simple things that annoy you instead of genuinely causing you distress or harm
“who gave you the audacity to talk about ya moms like that? she does a lot for you so you better chill with that. c’mon now she don’t deserve allat.”
it’s a major ick for him.
to summarize, miles wants a girlfriend that is there to support him whether it means being physically with him or allowing him the space he needs. he doesn’t want somebody who is going to stress him out on purpose, do things he doesn’t agree with morally, make him question his trust, and play with his feelings. AND RESPECT YOUR PARENTS.
— PAVITR PRABHAKAR
AFFECTION: pavitr is very physically affectionate and just shows his love very up-front. if he tries to hug you, hold your hand, or even touch you just a little and you give a almost disgusted reaction it definitely gives him the ick. and not in the sense that you are uncomfortable with physical touch, but if his girlfriend seems annoyed by him trying to show his love it definitely turns him off a little. not listening to him, not making an effort to talk to him, etc. it’s like when you go to hug someone and they try to close themself off mid hug and back away jus because…
example. pavitr laughs really hard at something his girlfriend says and goes to give her a playful touch but instead he sees her giving him a glare for laughing so loud before telling him to quiet down and backs away from his grasp
PESSIMISTIC: he doesn’t always expect you to be happy go lucky about life because if anyone knows that not every day is a happy one— it’s him. however, if you are constantly negative and bringing down happy moments for him or good news by the potential bad that can come from it or just always complaining? you’re basically killing his vibe and the last thing pavitr wants is to have a girlfriend that won’t be a energy vampire and will support him wanting to look on the bright side. he is spiderman after all it’s literally his job to give hope and he will try to inspire you but if he finds that his crush his continuously complaining or being negative when there is no need he will start to be turned off by the behavior.
he tries to start each day positive and be a light at the end of the tunnel for others who see him trying even after a bad day and if you aren’t with that you gotta go
“how come is it that every time something good is happening, your first thought is to say the worse thing that comes to mind? i think you may be struggling with something..”
BORING: this doesn’t mean boring in the sense that pavitr girlfriend or crush isn’t fun, but boring as in she tends to be lazy/a shut-in and doesn’t want to go out much. he is fine with staying in but he wants a girl who is gonna put just as much effort into seeing him as he is going to being the hopeless romantic he is. he definitely gets frustrated if you have a nonchalant attitude or don’t care about things because he feels like you should always work hard in what you do even when it comes to things in your personal life.
example. he wants to take you out but you rather stay inside and watch a movie even though you two haven’t went out in a while
EXES: this is a definite turn off if you talk about exes too much and not even in a way where you open up about possible trauma/hardships you endured but reminiscing certain times, discussing talking stages before you both got together, and such. he feels like if you’re in a relationship you shouldn’t praise an ex person you were romantically affiliated with. he doesn’t just find it awkward, but also a little disrespectful and shameless to just do it in-front of him.
it also makes him feel insecure and overthink like, “there must be a reason she’s bringing this up.” he’ll also get irritated if he brings up that he finds it weird/rude and in response you basically downplay it.
DISORGANIZED: pavitr would hate if you had a messy room. he feels like peoples rooms and houses are a reflection of who they are, so if you’re messy? yeah, no. and i don’t mean the type of mess where you were busy and stuff has been moved around and not cleaned up yet, depression bed, but full on sloppy and borderline hoarding. he could not deal with that and i can imagine him beginning to frantically circle your room and offer you free assistance if it’s that bad.
“are you sure you’re gonna clean this later? and what does later mean to you because-“
to summarize, pavitr wants somebody who is gonna be on the same positive wavelength he is, tries to make the most out of every day, remains respectful and affectionate, and puts effort into how they carry themself.
— MIGUEL O’ HARA
BAD LISTENER: something that will turn this man off almost immediately is not being good at listening to him, comforting him, and everything that has to do with this man’s trauma. miguel wants somebody who is gonna be a shoulder to cry on even if he won’t actually cry often. he wants someone who is listen to him and just let him dump his thoughts without putting any of the weight on you. but if you’re bad a listening it’s definitely gonna get on his nerves.
example. miguel is venting to you about gabi and how he feels that he failed her as a father and protector but when he looks up to see your face, he notices you aren’t paying attention by how clouded your eyes look— almost as of you’re thinking of something else entirely.
if his girlfriend or someone he has romantic interest in did that, his heart would shatter and if he showed any sort of change in emotion on his face in the silence you could probably swear you hear the pieces hitting the ground. it’s very important to him to have someone to talk to because his group of people who support him has gotten shorter and shorter throughout the years.
JUDGMENTAL: miguel hates a know-it-all. he doesn’t want to open up to someone who he feels will be critical of what he likes, his hobbies, his lifestyle, his choices and mistakes, etc. he doesn’t want somebody who is going to make drama out of nothing and just play games with him by saying stuff just to get a rise out of him. will it work? yes. does he hate it and it gives him an ick that you’re trying to get him angry on purpose knowing how he is? absolutely.
CLINGY: he is a bit hesitant to physical touch even when being touch starved. miguel makes it very clear that he does not want to be overly attacked with affection or forced into being affection because he father eases his way into it and basically take things slow. however, if you try to pressure him into being physically affectionate or just cling to his side he will definitely get annoyed.
he wants you to respect when he wants space or time to himself, and you showing that support and allowing him that is basically a silent blessing to him.
POOR COMMUNICATION: communication is very important to miguel. and not communication in terms of talking to him regularly and he gets mad at you of you don’t talk to him, because while that can be the case sometimes if he notices you avoiding him, it’s more so about talking to him.
“you know, i feel like a babysitter talking to a noisy kid that still doesn’t know how to listen to when they’re being talk to.”
example. he notices you acting off and asks you about it but instead of saying a genuine answer you make up a lie or completely shrug it off, which prompts an argument because he confronts you for not talking to him
miguel would never force you to open up, but he also doesn’t want you to lie. if there is truly something wrong, he at least wants you to voice that instead of lying and saying everything is fine because it creates distrust and other underlying problems. a simple “i don’t want to talk about it” would keep him at ease and he would offer you anything to make you feel better. however, if you go out of your way to not communicate well with him especially during arguments than he will begin to get the ick
example. you and him get into an argument and after it you decide to ignore him which he views as childish and petty as it causes a rift between you two.
DIRECTNESS: similar to miles, miguel wants his girlfriend to be straightforward with how she feels. he doesn’t wish for her to sugarcoat things just to try and ease his mind because to him that feels like bending the truth and taking away a layer of what you really want to say. he doesn’t want you to be “childish” when addressing problems in the relationship and he will set you straight or he sees you acting this way while he’s trying to communicate with you.
but if he can’t persuade you the act different as well as handle things better and you can’t bother to change, that will be the end of the relationship to him. biggest ick of icks for him.
also random but he also as icks linked to the self image of his partner. he would be an angrier man if you had bad hygiene, kept apologizing 24/7, and doubted yourself most of the time similar to nice guys who are just self pitying. even if you aren’t self pitying… his reaction is still the same.
“ay mamita, have some dignity please.”
to summarize, miguel wants a partner who is going to support him no matter what he needs to do and to ground him. but he isn’t looking to keep someone around him who is constantly neglecting his emotional needs, critical of his personal experiences, making his life harder by disrespecting boundaries and not wanting to communicate with him, and ultimately doing too much than needed.
DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.
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