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#i'm grateful to myself that i put in the work and love to make this so that i can always come back to it. i wanna illustrate scenes properly
theweirdwideweb · 10 hours
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Thank you from the bottom of my heart to all the kind people who left comments and messaged me about my traumatized butthole. For real. It's deeply meaningful to me to be able to be so open about my life and be received kindly by strangers because of it. If my story has impacted your life I'm so grateful, because my internet friends have lifted me up time after time over the past decade. As many know it's awful to be up late, upset, with no one to talk to. It's been the gift of my life to be able to express myself with total honesty any time day or night and have friends there to listen. I love you all.
I'm not a coward or a quitter. I set my alarm a little later than I usually do. I put my outfit and teacup next to the alarm so I can get dressed and put the kettle on first thing. I'm going to go to work, then my DBT group therapy, then I'm going to continue with the steady progress I've been making. My first three physical therapy sessions are already scheduled. I'm going to do exactly what the doctors tell me and I won't give up. I turn shit to gold. It's what I do. The pain I'm experiencing now is a gift because it's showing me where to heal myself and what I truly desire. I'm already living a life of unimaginable luxury compared to where I once was and I choose to fly higher.
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lunarharp · 1 year
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into the deep end - 30k T orufrey fic, focusing on memory trauma, disability, and romance.
the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the other.
for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.
the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.
but they were never whole to begin with, were they?
qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.
olly says nothing.
#witch hat tag#orufrey#sorry i wanted to make a new post for my fic since the first illustration is new.#*stands in the middle of a desolate field in the pouring rain* Please Read My Tale...Blease..Oh god please..*collapses to the ground*#someone asked if there's spoilers in it. Um...yes. Sorry...it's about everything#maybe i should describe it more? it's about qifrey becoming more and more disabled - as i feel is his canon trajectory#and both of them processing the choices that have been made. it was necessary for me to explore this in order to fully understand orufrey#and for them to have the cathartic conclusion-that's why this is important to me for my witch hat fanwork making life. this connects it all#and having dived into qifrey's mind and lived through oru's feelings i was able to get to a place that is possible for them.#the hit/kudos ratio is so pathetic idek what happened. ppl opening it realising its long and saving it for later or just bailing lmfao#idek any more i hate advertising my writing i hate trying to get more ppl to read my long fics it's so hard 🥲#i'm so much prouder of this than my art...i was able to sink deeply into the orufrey feelings i had always wanted to fully explore#so. it's there lol.........i reread the date/kiss segment today after trying to forget about it thinking maybe the fic is just BAD lol#and like.....nope! i like it very much and this is what i was trying to get across. and it's always there to be read by anyone who wants to#and i will always remember the bliss i felt while writing when i was just lost in their world and living as them. dear GOD i love them.#i'm grateful to myself that i put in the work and love to make this so that i can always come back to it. i wanna illustrate scenes properly#but i'm never satisfied with drawing things i've written because i just can't capture the vivid experience in my mind. maybe one day.
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vaspider · 10 months
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Last year I wrote about what happened at Pride when a couple of kids didn't understand why us older folx were so bitter about Reagan.
This year, I have something a little softer.
Someone who looked a little older than me came up to the booth wearing a pink t-shirt proclaiming him one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, San Francisco chapter. As I was ringing him up, I asked if he'd been involved for a while.
"Yes," he said, "for a bit," in that way us middle-aged people do when we're sort of wincing and feeling old.
"Okay, well," I said, sitting at my register in my queer booth full of queer clothes and patches and pins, topless in public for the first time. (I had pasties on for my own comfort bc I was working, but I live in the city of the Naked Bike Ride, and I took full advantage). My baby brother and both of my partners ran around behind me, my brother wearing a loose tank top that makes his scars visible.
"I need to tell you that you all helped keep me alive."
He blinked at me as I continued, "I was a kid in high school in the early 90s. I lived in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, and what you all were doing was so loud and so out there that even I heard about your work. It was one of the things that kept me alive. So thank you, and please thank the rest of the Sisters."
I heard about them through people in my parents' church complaining about them, and then I sought more information through the beginning of the internet, through newspapers, through anything I could find. I found the cover of Newsweek that one of the Sisters was on. I read about their "exorcism" of fundamentalist preachers whose books sat on the shelf in my parents' basement and probably still do. I saw how loud and colorful and unapologetically queer they were.
The knowledge that someone was out there, so full of defiant joy, refusing the shame that people kept trying to put on them? Oh, that kept me alive. I saw them, and I knew I could make it through. I wrapped my hands around that knowledge, and I held on so tight.
It took me a long time - a long, long time - to unwind most of it for myself and get to the point where my fat butch ass was sitting bare-chested in the July breeze, looking up at him as he held out his arms and said "you're actually giving me chills." I answered, "I mean every word. You helped keep me alive. So thank you."
I never know what to say when people come up to me in public and tell me that I helped them or changed their life in some way. I appreciate it, and I genuinely love the people who apologized for "fanpersoning" at me last weekend, I just never know what to say. I'm incredibly grateful that the Sister I spoke to was incredibly gracious, saying "usually we give blessings, but I feel like you blessed me." Another member of the party let me pet their tiny dog, who was not very interested in me, and that's okay. It was an overwhelming day. Then, they moved on.
Me? I'm still sitting with the fact that I looked last weekend into the faces of people who didn't know they were holding my head above water, and that I got to tell them the work they do matters. It's a rare thing to get to tell someone, "You saved me," and I'm treasuring it.
Last weekend, I wore my new battle vest with nothing underneath it, unless it was too hot, and then I just sat in my chair, chatting and ringing ppl out with my skin free to the air. I decided last year that top surgery isn't for me, but that also I'm going to love this body unapologetically, and it's no less a transmasculine body because the soft new dark hair on my belly isn't accompanied by pink scars along my ribs.
I didn't get here on my own. I got here because someone else cut through the undergrowth ahead of me so I could take another step forward. Here I am, decades later, still taking step after step, one at a time, and trying to lay paving stones behind me.
Last weekend was another step along that way, another step through unwinding the fear and shame and sadness that my parents and their church built into me. Another step out of hating myself for hiding parts of myself for so long, for acting out in other ways to distract people from my queerness, for feeling so much guilt when other people tell me I'm brave, because I know how much of myself I hid for how long because I was a coward, because I was afraid.
Another step into expiating stigmatic guilt.
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Your writing was adorable! I have a headcanon request for TWST. Feel free to ignore if it's not interesting, I won't mind. ( ̄▽ ̄)=3
Lilia, Leona, Azul (or whomever as long as Lilia is there)'s reaction to crush!reader sleepily telling them they want to marry them one day.
I'm a sap for mushy things. ˘͈ᵕ˘͈
A sleepy confession
Thank you so much for the request, it's adorable!! and of course, thank you for the compliments too! I'm a sucker for mushy things too, so this was so much fun to write!
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Crush!Reader sleepily telling him, they want to marry him
Characters: Lillia, Leona, Azul
Format: Headcanons
Warnings: None that i can think off
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Lillia
-you probably found silver asleep somewhere comfortable and instead of waking him up like usual (cause you're a good friend) you decide to also lay down and sleep... You most likely had History with professor Trein before this.
-Lillia just happened to be nearby, or maybe he was keeping an eye on silver, yk, like a good dad :D
- If you're napping under a tree, he might just be sitting on one of the branches
-You'd sleepily look up to him on the branches, as the old fae smiles down at you, and you, probably already half a sleep and maybe even thinking it's a dream, mumble out a soft "I wanna marry you one day.." 
-poor guy almost fell out off the tree
-you can't just do that to his old heart!! You can and you did
-his expression would soften, like he'd still be smiling, but it wouldn't be his typical trickster kinda smile (please tell me you know what i mean)
-Despite his usual attitude, I feel like he was very worried about loving you. I'm a huge believer in the Idea that fae usually only fall in love once, so after Meleanor, he believed that was it, he'd never love again. And then you came into his life, like a shining star, guiding him out of the darkness.  
-While he was grateful that he got a second chance at love, especially with someone as amazing as you, it's also nerve wrecking for him. The last and only time before this, he had his heart broken and ended up raising her son. Just the thought of the same thing happening again terrified him.
-But after what you just said, he won't need to worry about that anymore, right?
-Now he just needs to come up with the best way to confess... maybe he could cook you something! 
Leona
-Due to Leona being a bit of a tsundere, I don't feel like he'd get you to cuddle/sleep with him before officially dating
-BUT, if you two got paired together for a project, especially if it's in the botanical garden, chances are very high, you are doing the project and he's napping
-and doing a project by yourself gets you tired, especially one meant for magic as a magicless student, so you eventually lie down next to him
-due to his sensitive hearing, he lazily opens eyes, and sees you, already half asleep, looking at him, confusing him at first not that he's complaining, till.. "Despite you making me do this project by myself, i somehow i still wanna marry you some day" and just like that you're asleep.
-He, on the other hand, is suddenly very wide awake. 
-what?? you didn't mean that, right?? that's just the tiredness speaking, right?? you couldn't have meant that, right? why, or rather how, could you like him of all people?....He can't imagine being anyone's, let alone your, first choice. He's so used to being second.
-For the first time in forever, he is fully awake and can't go back to sleep, just what are you doing to him, Herbivore? 
-But this means you like him back, right? alright fine, he'll put some work into confessing, just don't expect anything to grand
-He'd still be awake once you wake up again, much to your confusion, but still deliberately refuse to help. Not a word of what you said is spoken, but if you look closely enough you'll see the blush on his cheeks!
Azul
-You wanted to rest after a long day, maybe even after a long shift at the mostro lounge, and Azul was gracious enough to let you rest on one of the couches in the VIP room, while he worked. He actually wanted to appear like a gentleman in front of you and impress you.
-You can't convince me that those couches aren't comfortable. Which is why you almost immediately fall asleep the moment you lay down.
-But before you do, you make one last comment "I already want to marry you one day as is, but if it means I get to rest like this every night, I'll buy the ring tomorrow"
-If a student walked in right now, they might just confuse him with a crashed pc; or maybe with riddle, considering how red he is
-Just completely stops everything he's doing, he's in shock. he doesn't believe he can actually be loved
-It genuinely shocks him so much that you actually like him back, let alone want to marry him, but he can't say he isn't happy! So him being even more of a gentleman to you and giving you countless discounts worked! (You actually already liked him before that! but he was to busy being insecure to notice)
-Immediately starts working on a relationship contract for you two, hell, you said you want to marry him, right?? might as well start working on the marriage certificate!
-He continues to be absolutely flustered as he writes the two contracts, if either of the twins saw him right now, he'd never hear the end of it!
-Prepare to be asked to dinner at the most romantic table in the mostro lounge with Azul, where he will then ask you out and discusses your relationship as if it was a business meeting :)
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Ahhhh my first request, thank you so much again for your kind words and the adorable request, I truly hope i lived up to it's greatness <3
I'm still in book 4, so i tried to write Lilia as in-character as possible based on what i saw of him during events and from other writers :)
feedback is welcomed, just be Kind! Hope you all have a lovely day/night!
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anantaru · 4 months
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a/n. ✩ ˛˚ . i am currently sick and wanted to write something sweet, enjoy my loves while I'm drowning myself in hot lemon water, gn! reader
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neuvillette likes to buy you flowers.
he doesn't necessarily have a favorite type of flower that he likes to purchase for you, because to him, it's the plant itself that reminded him of you.
for one, when he looks outside the window to catch the neat, sprouting garden outside your home, the sun rays shimmer gently along the various petals, rainbow roses stretching and slowly opening its eyes to the soft tickle of warmth.
to neuvillette, it felt the same as when he hears your voice whisper a honey-like "good morning" first thing during sunrise, and he wishes he could explain to you just how much the sound of your voice gave him butterflies and hope.
one part of him was on fire when you begin to smile as you realize he had bought you a bouquet full of blossoming lumidouce bells again.
to neuvillette, your grateful smile was resembling a warm gesture that was widely manifested in a garden scented with the fragrance of nectarous flowers, various plants going crazy when they receive the warm affection of the sun.
now, the man was calm and peaceful knowing that you liked them and that when he wasn't here with you, there was at least something that would always remind you of him.
you move towards him, slanting close, settling on his lap, and it makes his heart skip a beat when you leisurely wrap your arms around his neck to pull him into a quick kiss— because you see, every time he connects with you physically, neuvillette felt like you were a piece of him that had been missing perpetually.
neuvillette moves his tongue gently until you forget yourself into his trace, savoring the moment as he runs a finger along your thigh. you shift your hips a little to move closer, a wave of felicity shielding your bodies before the man decides to break the kiss as to catch his breath.
restraining his bliss for a moment, the iudex reminds himself that work had been awaiting him.
he takes your hand and squeezes it gently, "i assume you like the flowers?" as he questions lightly, even though he fully knew the answer to his own questioning— yet his mellow voice was so full of passion like it was attempting to burst his lungs, unable to exclaim the deep gratitude he felt.
you snicker back, quite absorbed in watching him blush vividly after one kiss, "you ask if i like them? i love each and every one of them," you continue, sounding sweet to his ears, "thank you, i will take care of them while you're gone,"
your gentle lips pass a smile, and you admire his eyes, see and notice how they had been cosseting your own.
this love, it wasn't like one you had encountered in the past— because the one you shared with neuvillette was an union of souls and hearts and minds, not something you could put under a microscope and understand immediately, because simply put, it was too complex for that, strong and unbreakable.
pure love, like a liquid which descends from the clouds in rain with your body feeling different— bouncier, more energetic.
feeling happy.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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malusokay · 1 year
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2023 reset guide
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Glow up
2023 vision board. Visualize your dream 2023 and write down your goals!
Daily Hot girl walks. No excuses, babes; let's get moving!
Reflecting on 2022. Look back at what you've accomplished and what you could have done differently.
Make a Bucketlist. Write down places you want to visit and things you want to do.
Extended self-care. Take some time to yourself to recover from the stressful holidays and get back on track. <3
Buy a good SPF. Do some research and find something that works for you!
Start Investing in yourself. Money, time, and energy. Put yourself first!
Annual check-ups. Make a dentist appointment, go to the optometrist etc...
Buy a Silk pillowcase. Protect your skin and hair!
Set clear boundaries. And make sure that people respect them!
Less screen time. Self-explanatory.
Manicure, lash lift, haircut. High maintenance to be low maintenance! ;)
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Wellness
Daily vitamins. Visit a doctor to discuss which ones you should be taking for the best results.
Morning stretches. Wake up your body and drink some water!
Skin/hair care. It's time to find products that actually work for you.
Reading more literature. Set yourself a daily reading goal.
Planned grocery lists. Make a grocery list that aligns with your dietary needs and goals to make shopping less stressful. <3
Less coffee. Especially if you struggle with anxiety!!
More greens and protein. Let's give our body what it needs.
Journaling. Truly helps with overthinking!!
8 hours of sleep. Beauty sleep. <3
Cooking for yourself. Such a cute form of daily self-care.
Yoga. Or just any low-impact exercises in general.
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Deep cleaning
Organizing your closet. Only keep things that make you feel beautiful.
Budgeting. Check your bank account and plan ahead.
Clean your hairbrushes. Trust me...
Donating clothes. Donate the items that you don't wear anymore.
Clean your make-up brushes. The first step to clear skin!!
Fresh sheets. Wash your pillows too.
Charge your electronics. IPad, Mac, Camera etc...
Get rid of expired make-up and skincare. Step 2 to clear skin, lol.
Declutter stationary. No need to keep dried-out pens.
Delete old emails. I currently have 1840...
Delete unnecessary apps. Anything you don't need.
Clean your camera roll. Making some space for new memories! :)
Cut out toxic people. <3
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Mindset
Pretty, smart, kind, and prioritising myself.
Positive affirmations!!
Your daily habits play a huge role in your mood/life. Be mindful, and take care of yourself.
It's okay to outgrow people!!
Decide what kind of life you actually want and start saying no to everything that won't get you there.
"I'm attracting opportunities that align with my dream life."
A girl who will do big things can't let small things bother her.
Honestly, reinvent yourself over and over again until you are satisfied with who you are.
Do you want to be comfortable, or do you want to grow?
"Am I doing this for me, or am I performing for others?"
very high standards. VERY HIGH STANDARDS.
Be obsessed with yourself.
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2022 has been such a life-changing year for me, not only personally but also regarding my social media! As I already said on Twitter, I'm incredibly grateful for this little community that has formed this year, and I'm excited for all the things that lay ahead of us! I wish everyone a successful 2023 with many beautiful moments and lots of growth!!
✩‧₊*:・love ya ・:*₊‧✩
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rosey-tta · 8 months
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is it a controversial topic to say that making the reader's appearance overly detailed, giving them a title and a overly detailed backstory (mary sue backstory often), focusing more on their pov which reveals their personality heavily that some readers would NOT relate too, not making it poc friendly, saying it's gn but using personal pronouns and characters calling them gender specific nicknames (princess/ baby girl...etc), is it controversial to say you didn't write an x reader fanfic but an x OC and you're tricking us to read it?? lmfao i think people have the right to be mad ESPECIALLY if it's not gn or poc friendly when you claimed it was... like i love writers and i appreciate the works ALL of you are putting yall are awesome for giving us this fanfics but PLEASE BFR
if your (y/n) is someone the reader can't relate to it's not x reader. simple as that. idk why ppl are scared of saying this.
PS; i deleted a stupid reply that got mad at x black!reader for being exclusively for black people when black/poc friendly fanfics are already a minority when the harmful majority is very european centered (white people specifically) and even very anti black in some cases. don't twist my post to be fucking racist/sexist/homophobic/fatphobic or ableist because that's not what i'm talking about at all ffs. to the poc and other minority creators who are writing for their people and for unconventional, non-white beauty standards i love you, you're amazing and a straight up war veteran in some of these fandom, geez. (this is for context if anyone looks at the replies. and to tell yall to be decent human being cuz some of you are bold ASF.)
PS 2; i didn't want to address this but, some people pointed out that writing ambiguos x reader is impossible and hard. that's not the case at all, look at the most popular fanfics in a fandom x reader. they ARE ambiguous and general stuff! such as jealousy headcanons, general dating headcanons, prompts, general kinks or the like.... why? because you didn't give the reader too many details or made them mfing black widow or madoka kaname, who'll be relating to that???? you might say "oh i'm writing for myself" or "this is my self-insert don't like it don't read" cool, we all have self-inserts. stop tagging it as x reader however. that's it. tags exist for a reason, and you not using it properly is your problem not the readers who have been misled.
Ps 3 PLEASE READ: ❗❗❗
I read what other people opposing this post said and I absolutely get how difficult it is to write for ambiguous readers. I'm deeply sorry for making it seem as though I'm berating writers when I don't share my work here on tumblr. My post was NOT meant to insult creative writing OR to say that putting the slightest bit of detail on your headcanons, fanfics, scenarios etc is a terrible thing because I assure you it's NOT. But please for the love of god tag your work correctly. THAT'S IT. And give warnings and heads ups about what your writing contains. If it has fem!reader only tag it as fem!reader, if there's mention of physical characteristics specific to one race others or group may not relate to PLEASE give a warning. I know the content here on tumblr is free and I like many here are SUPER grateful for it.
I don't appreciate entitled readers and ik how frustrating it is to get backlash from something that you do for free and it brings you immense joy, but please remember your work is also public and by that it WILL be subjected to criticism and feedback however it may be. And of course I'd never support harrassment or rudeness on any party giving or receiving feedbacks.
Remember that tags and warnings exist for a reason and you're free to write WHATEVER as long as you publicize it keeping in mind the target audience you're reaching. Of course people will not be happy if you state your work is something that ultimately isn't. But imo if you give a prior information then no one should harrass or demand of you anything. This post was made to address the lack of honestly with certain content, the non-poc friendly fanfics and MY PERSONAL OPINIONS. You're free to agree and you're free to disagree.
I read the replies and tags and I understand both sides of the argument, but I also needed to clarify what this post is NOT about. Of course any harrassment or rude comments will be ignored. You're free to have your opinions and preferences and free to say them as long as it isn't problematic.
I also removed the x reader because I understand how it would be hypocritical of me but I truly needed to get people's opinions on a wider scale. Again I apologize if I offended everyone and if I came off as rude or entitled i promise you that's not the case, And you can't even say I think the fanfics should be centered around me since most with the unconventional beauty standards and personality within them do not match me in any way and that's okay 💁‍♀️
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reiderwriter · 9 months
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Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.
A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️
Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.
Word count: 4.6k
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.
My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!
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It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.
But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.
You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.
Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.
You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.
You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.
You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.
“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.
When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.
On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.
You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.
–X–
It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.
You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.
But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.
It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.
The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.
Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.
–X–
It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.
Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.
You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.
You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.
Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.
You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.
“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.
You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.
“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.
“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.
“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.
–X–
It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.
It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.
Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.
“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.
He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.
It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.
“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”
“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.
“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.
“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”
“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.
“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”
–X–
For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.
You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.
You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.
“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.
“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”
“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”
“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.
“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.
“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.
“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.
“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.
“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.
The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.
“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.
Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.
“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.
And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.
He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.
“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.
“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.
“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.
“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.
“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.
“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.
“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.
“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.
“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”
“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.
“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.
“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.
“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”
“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”
You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.
“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.
“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.
“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.
“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.
“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.
“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.
He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.
It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.
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barcaatthemoon · 13 days
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unlucky || alessia russo x reader ||
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alessia gets sick and has to miss out on the conti cup final, bringing up some feelings for both of you.
one thing you had learned early on about alessia was that she was not as slick as she thought. you had noticed alessia coming down with whatever was going around the training grounds just a couple days before the game. the conti cup final was a big deal, and alessia wanted so badly to win with arsenal, but you knew that wasn't going to happen.
arsenal's chances were good, but there was no way that alessia was making it to the game. she had been bedridden the day before with a migrane and a fever. alessia played it off like a minor headache, but you could hear the whimpers whenever she thought you weren't paying attention.
that morning, alessia had gotten out of bed and dressed herself up for the game. she had nearly managed to make it out of the apartment without waking you up. the crash in the living room from alessia tripping over herself was more than enough to have you running into the living room. you weren't exactly surprised to find alessia sitting on the floor, but you were definitely disappointed.
"come on, back to bed with you." you reached out to help her up onto her feet. alessia looked utterly miserable as you dragged her back into the bedroom. "what were you thinking less? you're still burning up!"
"i've got a game, and it's an important one," alessia told you. "i can't miss this, it's the final."
"you don't have a choice, and neither do i. if you really want to go, we can watch and support our friends, but you aren't playing," you told her. alessia pouted as she settled back in the bed with you. as much as you wanted her to get better, you were somewhat grateful that she was still too sick to really argue with you.
alessia was fairly quick to fall back sleep, still dressed in her kit. you usually loved watching alessia sleep, but this wasn't the same. alessia tossed and turned in bed, never quite able to get comfortable. your heart ached for her, knowing that the look on her unconscious face wasn't just because of her illness.
winning with arsenal was a big deal to alessia. she wanted to hold that trophy up for the gunners alongside her team. it was all alessia had been talking about since she signed. the season had gone well, even if there had been quite a few wrenches thrown into the plan. each of those times, alessia had been the picture of optimistic, but today she seemed utterly defeated.
"hey, how are you feeling lovely?" you asked alessia as she started to wake up. she sounded a lot less congested, but you weren't going to suggest going to the game for her. if she felt up to it, you were sure that she'd say something to you.
"i feel like everything i've worked towards doesn't matter," alessia grumbled. you sighed as you turned onto your stomach. the look on alessia's face was even worse now that she was awake. you didn't think that you had seen her look so upset since the world cup final. "i don't get it. i work so hard all of the time. why can't i catch a fucking break?"
"lessi, baby," you sighed. you tried to move in to comfort her, but alessia slipped out of bed. "come back to bed, please. talk to me, i don't want you to shut down, please."
"no, i can't right now. just, please, give me a few minutes to myself. i'm going for a walk," alessia said. you watched as she put a hoodie on to cover up her jersey. it was hard to watch alessia just walk out like that, but you knew that you had to give her space. she didn't ask for it often, and you knew better than to try and get close when she resorted to that.
you tried to stay in the bedroom, but you couldn't just sit there and wait for her all afternoon. it was hard, but you managed to get through most of your afternoon with alessia gone. she had sent you a couple of texts promising that she'd be fine, but that didn't stop your worrying. it didn't help that alessia's walk out turned into a pint before she made her way to the stadium to watch the game.
a part of you wanted to go and support your club, but you stayed in the apartment. you felt like alessia's bad luck was all your fault. the only times in the decade that you'd known her that she had gotten like this was after the two of you had begun seeing each other. it was like every single loss in alessia's life was your fault. she had hit a string of bad luck, and you were at the center of it.
sometime during the game, you had pulled out a few bottles of alcohol from the fridge. by the end of the game, you were definitely way past tipsy. you laid your head down, prepared to rest for a moment before you called the girls to congratulate them. instead, you completely passed out, only to wake up to alessia carrying you back into the bedroom in the middle of the night.
"less?" you cracked your eyes open. your head was killing you already, as if the alcohol had worn off just enough to give you a taste of what you'd get in the morning. "what time is it?"
"it's just a bit past 10. sorry that i stayed out so long," alessia apologized. she laid you down in the bed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "the girls missed you in the locker room. katie tried to facetime you, she thought something was wrong."
"something is wrong, and it's all my fault. i'm like your little bad luck charm," you mumbled. you never would have said that sober, and alessia tried not to think about how long you had felt that way. "all the bad things happen because of me, and i'm sorry. you should leave me, find yourself a lucky girl because i'm like a goddamn black cat."
"i don't want a lucky girl. i don't think you're unlucky at all, not one bit," alessia told you. she pressed a kiss to the top of your head as the two of you settled down comfortably. you knew that it'd only be for a moment, but you were happy in her arms. "you didn't get me sick. in fact, you took off from your recovery to help me get better today. any time that i need something, you practically trip over yourself to get it for me."
"excuse me, but we are not all as clumsy as you, ma'am," you joked. alessia shoved your shoulder as you laughed at your own joke. "i'd do anything for you. missing today hurt me too, but i'm glad that you went to watch the game instead of getting drunk like me."
"oh my god, i'm an idiot!" alessia exclaimed. you flinched at the sudden shouting fit, which alessia quietly apologized for as she gave you a quick squeeze.
"i don't think you're an idiot, less." you leaned up to press a kiss to her cheek.
"you're injured. you've been injured for months now, and i miss one game because of a cold and i bitch all about it. i'm so sorry, i didn't even think about your feelings. how could i be so inconsiderate?" alessia looked like she was about to cry as she came to the realization that she had moped around for most of the day with you. you had gotten used to knowing that you'd miss things because of your injury, and alessia was always painfully careful about the things she chose to celebrate.
"don't beat yourself up, it's fine. i knew when i went down that it wasn't going to be on the six weeks side of things. this was big for you, and it was your dream to win with arsenal. you had to sit out on this game, but by this time next year, you won't remember how bad it felt when you're scoring hat tricks left and right," you said. alessia smiled, and you knew that she was thinking about that feeling. "but before you can do any of that, you've got to rest and get better."
"i don't know what i'd do without you sometimes," alessia admitted. she felt a bit foolish about how she had acted earlier, even if you repeatedly let her know that her feelings were valid.
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ajortga · 4 months
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always for you
pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader
thank you for your support! honestly i'm so so grateful you guys like my writing<3 this was from a request that i loved making, (especially the texting part.) requests are packed! theres so many more so i won't be checking inboxes till i'm finished with the majority of them! to whomever requested, i hope you like this!
-
can I request another soft!jenna x r?? I know your requests are closed, and you can do this anytime if your free. I can wait.
Where r's phone is acting up but doesn't want to buy a new phone cause r is broke, jenna sees r struggle with the lag and buys r a new phone
-
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(shes so cute)
Jenna always thought you were too thoughtful and selfless, you always thought of others before yourself, you gave love to every person you possibly could before you could even love yourself.
You gifted Jenna the new black noise canceling headphones for Christmas, you loved music as much as she did. But even with your immense love, you still managed to have wired earphones, though they were tangled almost everyday. 
There was a day the brunette noticed the way your phone had been acting up. She won’t mention how you dropped it in the bathtub while trying to give your cat a bath, and she’ll leave out how it somehow didn’t crack the numerous times you dropped it on the table or carpet. But whenever she texted you, you’d take longer to respond, apologizing endlessly.
“goodmorning my love! my phone was glitching again, it keeps bringing me back to this stupid dancing vegetable i put on for nephew cash last week. It took me a while to finally get back to messages! i'm sorry:((.”
“oh my god it did it again, now it’s a piece of radish dancing”
Sometimes you’d respond halfway and then stop there too cause your phone would crash
"y/nnnn, baby, i used the damn salt for our cookies instead of sugar and i put so much and i wanted to make a pickup line for you. i was literally pretending you were there and said "you're as sweet as a cookie" and i bit into it and it tasted so salty and i coughed so much"
“HAHA oh my gosh your like the silliest person i know, you literally remind me of-”"
10 minutes later
“MY PHONE CRASHED AGAIN”
“it did it again, it kept bringing me to different tabs so i had to get back in here. baby i can’t even talk to you properly anymore, i think we should-”
25 minutes later
“THE DANCING VEGETABLE IS ON MY SCREEN AGAIN”
"jenna? are you there?"
"i amm here"
"IT'S FRUIT NOW"
"baby 😭"
-
She did talk to you about getting a phone, she knew that you wanted to spend your money on others until yourself. You saved a little portion for yourself, so your portion made you a little broke. But you insisted that if it still worked and was helping the way it was supposed to, it would be okay.
It was funny to her, she would try charging both your phones before you snuggled to sleep together, but she always struggled on charging your phone because it wouldn’t charge.
You could hear her grunting as she cursed under her breath, “You have to use the first charging port and twist it at an 80 degree angle to the right, the phone has to be facing up.”
As it finally charged, she made a small sigh and smiled as she looked at you, softly saying, “You’re always too thoughtful Y/N, there’ll be one day where life will give it all back to you.”
You nuzzled into her chest, “As long as I can make others happy, that’s all I need to make myself happy,” you said drowsily as you rested on her chest. She kissed your forehead as you dozed off, cradling you to sleep.
-
The next day, Jenna got up so early and unattached herself from your grasp, making you make a small noise as you subconsciously looked for her embrace.
The bed creaked as you made a small murmur, looking up at Jenna barely awake.
You yawned, really sleepy, “Where are you going??” You said sadly, a little tired pout forming.
You sounded so drowsy as Jenna giggled, kissing your temple, “I need to pick up some strawberries, we need some pancakes for our breakfast and some other goodies sunshine. It’ll be packed in the afternoon, it’ll be quick, I promise.”
You made a sad noise, your hands reaching up for her and scrunching her arms as she hugged you, taking her giant stuffed animal and letting you hold it.
Soon enough from her scent on the stuffy, you were asleep, snuggling it.
Jenna changed into a sweater, jeans, and wore her headphones you gave her as she was off.
She was going to buy you that phone, no matter what you said.
Her footsteps crunched against the leaves as she listened to her music, getting a new idea as a proud smile sneaked on her lips.
She entered the electronic store, buying you the latest white phone that she had as well. She also went to the head gear section and bought you Sony headphones, a white one that would look so pretty on you. Her fingers signed the signature as she payed with her card, buying you guys two matching phone cases with two black cats on them.
Two hours later she came home, opening your bedroom door as she walked in.
“Y/N, sunshine, I’m here,” she whispered as you made a small murmur again, opening your eyes.
“Mhh…”
A small grin appears on her face as she shows you the new phone and headphones as you stare.
You were so tired you stared at it in disbelief and confusion.
Then you looked at her, your eyes teary as you pouted, “Baby.. Why? You didn’t have to-”
“You deserve it, you always think about me and all your friends hardly before yourself. And you deserve the world. I want you to be able to use your phone and those headphones. I like seeing you happy.”
Your pout turned into a wide smile as you pulled her collar to your level and hugged her tightly.
“Thank you. You really didn’t have to do that for me," you said, your voice happy as you nuzzle into her, not wanting to let go.
“Always.”
“I love you.”
Jenna smiles, her soft lips pressing to your temple, "I love you too."
--
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513 notes · View notes
alxtiny · 3 months
Note
hi i hope your requests are open 😓😓😓 i was wondering if you could do an ot8 comfort fic thing for when the ateez members find out that reader used to selfharm because of the scars left behind. if you dw to do ot8 then just mingi is fine.
thank you sm!
I’m so sorry it took this long i got sidetracked 😭😭 but i hope you like it
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Ateez reacting to their SO’s self harm scars
Synopsis: ateez comforts the reader after finding out about their self harm scars
Pairing: ateez x gn!reader, domestic au
Genre: fluff, comfort
Word count: 3k
Warnings: mentions of past struggles with self harm
masterlist
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• Hongjoong
The soft hum of music filled the cozy studio as Hongjoong focused on the delicate dance of his fingers on the MIDI keyboard, his laptop screen glowing with various tracks and effects. Beside him, you were nestled in a comfortable chair, engrossed in a book, occasionally shifting to find a more comfortable position.
As you moved, your shorts rode up slightly, revealing faint scars on your thighs. Hongjoong's eyes flickered with concern as he noticed, surprised to have not seen them before. He paused his work, turning to you with a gentle furrow in his brow.
"Jagi, what happened to your thighs?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for answers.
You looked down at your scars, a small sigh escaping your lips. "Oh, those? Just old battle wounds," you replied casually, trying to not fall back into painful memories.
Hongjoong's heart sank at your casual response. "But... how did you get them?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice.
You inhaled sharply, setting your book aside. "It's... a long story. But really, it's all in the past. They don't bother me anymore."
Hongjoong's heart clenched at your stiff tone, but he chose not to pry further. He reached out to gently trace the scars with his fingertips, his touch hesitant, as if it might hurt you, but you found it comforting. "I wish I had noticed sooner," he murmured, his voice laced with regret.
You met his gaze, offering him a small smile. "It's okay, love. I got out of it. It not exactly pleasant to remember but I’ll be fine," you reassured him, squeezing his hand affectionately. "Besides, consider it character development."
Hongjoong pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he could shield you from any pain. "Don’t make jokes now," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "But remember, you don't have to bear it alone. I'm here for you, always."
"Thank you," you whispered, feeling With warmth spreading through your body, grateful for his presence and understanding.
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• Seonghwa
Seonghwa sat comfortably on his bed, his back resting against the pillows as he played Animal Crossing on his Switch. You snuggled close beside him, the warmth of his body against yours, as you watched the screen together.
You continued watching with fascination, occasionally pointing out cute details or offering suggestions for his virtual paradise.
"Hwa, look! You should put a little picnic area by the beach," you suggested, your voice filled with excitement.
He glanced at you, a warm smile gracing his lips as he listened to your ideas. But then, as the light from the screen shifted, he noticed something on your forearm. Faint scars, barely visible except for when the light from the screen illuminated them but it was enough to catch his attention. He paused the game, concern flickering in his eyes as he gently traced his fingers over them.
"What are these?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with worry.
You hesitated for a moment, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over you. But then, meeting his gaze, you offered a reassuring smile. "They're old scars," you explained gently. "I'm better now, Seonghwa. You don't need to worry."
He furrowed his brows, his concern evident. "But... how did I never notice them before?"
You shrugged lightly. "They're not something I like to talk about, anyways being with you makes me feel confident and content with myself and I don't dwell on the past when I'm with you."
Seonghwa's heart swelled with love and admiration for you. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're so strong, Y/N," he murmured, his arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. "And you're not alone. I'm here for you, always."
You smiled at him, feeling absolutely content as you relaxed further into his arms.
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• Yunho
Yunho had always been passionate about his work, especially dancing. So when he dragged you along to the KQ dance studio one evening, you couldn't say no to his big puppy eyes, even if it meant sitting on the sidelines and watching him move with such grace that not even the best could replicate.
As he swayed and spun across the polished floor, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. His dedication and talent were mesmerizing, filling the room with an energy that was infectious.
"That was amazing," you whispered as he finished a particularly intricate sequence.
He grinned, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Thanks, love. But you know what would make it even better?"
You raised an eyebrow, already anticipating his answer.
"If you joined me," he said, extending a hand towards you.
You shook your head, chuckling softly. "No way, Yunho. I'm not half as talented as you are."
But Yunho was persistent, and before you knew it, he had pulled you up from your seat and into the centre of the studio. You stumbled a bit, feeling a little self-conscious as you stood next to him.
"Don't worry," he reassured you, placing his hands on your waist. "Just follow my lead."
You moved together, following his lead as best you could. It wasn't long before you found yourself lost in the music, the worries of the day melting away with each step.
But then, as you spun around, your shirt shifted, revealing the faint marks on your shoulder. Yunho noticed immediately, his expression shifting from playful to concerned. He stopped dancing, his hands dropping to his sides. You froze at his sudden shift in demeanour and looked at him in confusion waiting for him to say something.
"What's this?" he asked, gently tracing the marks with his fingertips.
You bit your lip, feeling exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. "Oh, um, it's nothing. Probably just from a cat or something."
Yunho raised an eyebrow at your answer, he wasn't convinced. "You sure about that?"
You sighed, knowing you couldn't keep it from him any longer. "Fine, I used do it when I got frustrated or angry with myself. It's stupid, I know."
Yunho's eyes widened in horror, his fingers still lingering on your skin. "Why would you do that?"
You shrugged, feeling embarrassed. "I don't know. It's like a subconscious thing, I guess."
"You don't have to do that anymore," he murmured against your skin, kissing the scars lightly. "You have me now. Whenever you feel like that, come to me. Lean on me, use me however you like. I'll be here for you."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in his chest, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.
• Yeosang
Yeosang had gone out for a while to run some errands, leaving you to enjoy a peaceful nap on his large bed. You decided to steal one of his shirts, the comfort of which immediately sent you to sleep. Unbeknownst to you,in your deep slumber as you shifted around, the shirt had slipped off your shoulder, exposing the healed scars that adorned your skin.
As Yeosang returned home, his heart swelled at the sight of you, peacefully sleeping. He couldn't help but smile fondly, thinking of how cute and tiny you looked in his clothes, quietly he approached to admire your peaceful face. Gently, he reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, as he did his gaze shifted to the scars that marred your skin. Concern flooded his features as he leaned in closer, his fingertips hovering over the healed marks.
You stirred at his touch, blinking awake with a soft smile as you recognized him. "Hey, Yeosang, you’re back, " you greeted smiling at him, your voice still laced with sleep.
But as your eyes met his, you noticed the concern etched in his expression, his eyes fixed on the scars. "Is everything alright?" you asked, furrowing your brows in confusion.
Yeosang's worry spilled out in a rush of questions. "What happened? Are you okay? Why didn't you tell me?"
Confusion flashed across your face before you realised what he was looking at, and you gently reached out to cup his cheek, soothing the furrow in his brow. "Yeosang, it's okay," you reassured him, your voice gentle yet firm. "Those scars are old. It's been nearly a decade since then."
You could see the relief wash over him, but he still looked troubled. "But... why? Why did you...?"
You placed a finger over his lips, silencing his questions. "I was going through a tough time back then," you explained softly. "But being with you... you make me so happy, Yeosang. I haven't had any bad thoughts since."
His eyes softened, and he pulled you into a comforting embrace, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "I'm just glad you're okay," he murmured against your skin.
You smiled up at him, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. "I'm more than okay," you whispered, leaning in to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. "I'm better than I've ever been, all because of you."
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• San
After a warm evening shower you wanted nothing more but to get into your fluffy pyjamas and go to sleep. You stood in front of your mirror, carefully putting on your clothes, when the door unexpectedly swung open, revealing San on the other side. Startled, you instinctively grabbed a towel to cover yourself.
"Oh, sorry! I didn't realize you were in here," San stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"It's okay, San. Just give me a moment," you said, adjusting your shirt as you continued dressing. You had been with him long enough not to feel entirely uncomfortable with him seeing you like this.
As you finished, you noticed San's gaze lingering on a particular spot near your hips. Sensing his stare, you furrowed your brows and glanced down, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"Is something wrong?" you asked, your voice laced with concern.
San blinked, seemingly snapping out of his trance. "Oh, no, it's nothing," he quickly replied, though his expression betrayed his curiosity.
You sighed softly, knowing he wouldn't let it go that easily. "They're just scars from my past," you explained, gesturing towards the faded marks on your upper thigh and hips. "Back then I struggled a lot with my confidence," you winced slightly at the painful memory.
San's eyes widened in realisation, and his features softened with empathy. "I had no idea," he murmured, stepping closer to you. "You're perfect, you know? I can't believe you would ever think otherwise."
A small, appreciative smile tugged at your lips, touched by his sincerity. "Thank you, San," you replied softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I'm in a much better place now."
Without hesitation, San reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. "I'm glad to hear that," he whispered, his gaze filled with adoration. "But just know, I'll always be here to remind you of how incredible you are."
His words melted away any lingering insecurities, and you couldn't help but lean in to press a tender kiss against his lips. "Thank you for always being so understanding," you murmured against his mouth.
"Of course," San replied, returning the kiss with equal fervor. "You don't ever have to worry about anything when you're with me.
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• Mingi
After ages of going to the gym, lifting weights and what not, you had finally convinced Mingi to join you for a workout session at home. He was a bit hesitant about it at first, but eventually agreed, eager to spend more time with you. You chose something slow and peaceful, as opposed to the usual fast cardio routine.
You rolled out your yoga mats in a quiet corner of the living room, ready to start your session. "Alright, Mingi, let's begin with some simple stretches," you said, gesturing for him to follow your lead.
Mingi nodded, a determined look on his face as he mirrored your movements. You guided him through various yoga poses, explaining the significance behind each one with patience and encouragement. As you moved gracefully from one pose to another, you couldn't help but notice Mingi's intense focus on you.
Eventually, you transitioned into a seated position, stretching out your legs. That's when you saw Mingi's gaze flicker down to your thighs, his expression shifting slightly.
Sensing his sudden shift in mood, you paused, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. "Is everything okay, Mingi?"
Mingi hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Y/N, I... I didn't realize..." His voice trailed off, his eyes fixated on the faint scars adorning your skin.
You followed his gaze and realized what he was looking at. You never made an effort to hide them, but you hadn't expected Mingi to notice them either.
You shifted closer to him and reached out, gently placing your hands on his. You took a deep breath, deciding to address it calmly. "Those are just old scars from before. I don't hide them, but I understand if it's a bit surprising."
Mingi blinked back tears, his emotions bubbling to the surface. "I... I never knew. I'm sorry, Y/N. I should've noticed sooner."
You shook your head, squeezing his shoulder gently. "You don't have to apologize, Mingi. You couldn't have known. What matters is that I'm here now, and I'm okay."
Mingi's eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice filled with sincerity. "Y/N, please... promise me you won't struggle alone anymore. I'm here for you, always."
You nodded, a warm smile spreading across your face, as you hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek, making him crack a smile too. "I promise, Mingi.”
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• Wooyoung
It was one of those lazy afternoons when you and Wooyoung were both off from work and free from all worries, allowing just the two of you to enjoy each other's company. Of course the best way to spend it was by annoying each other and generally goofing around, engaging in your usual banter and playful teasing.
As you playfully jabbed at Wooyoung's side while he was attempting to pour himself some water, successfully making him spill it, he retaliated by attempting to tickle you. You squirmed and laughed, trying to evade his grasp and running around the apartment, but he managed to corner you and began tickling your sides mercilessly.
"Ah! Wooyoung, stop!" you squealed between giggles, your cheeks flushed from the laughter.
His hands slipped under your shirt, tickling up and down your sides with no mercy as tears escaped your eyes from laughing too much. Abruptly his movements stopped, and a concerned frown creased his forehead as his fingers brushed against thin ridges on the side of your ribs. Gingerly he lifted your shirt, his eyes widened to discover pale white scars strewn across your skin.
"Hey... what's this?" Wooyoung's voice softened as he traced the scars with his thumb, his playful demeanor instantly replaced by worry.
You glanced at him, puzzled by the sudden change in his demeanor, until you followed his gaze down to your ribs. Realization dawned on you, and you gently placed your hand over his, giving him a reassuring smile.
"Ahh those, it's okay, Wooyoung," you said softly. "I'm okay now. You don't need to worry."
He searched your eyes, silently asking for confirmation. Your reassuring words seemed to ease his concern, but he still couldn't shake off the worry completely.
Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss against the scars, his lips warm against your skin. "I love you," he whispered softly, his voice filled with sincerity and affection.
Your heart swelled with warmth at his words, and a giggle bubbled up from within you. Wrapping your arms around him, you hugged him tightly.
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• Jongho
As you walked through the door after a painfully long day at work, Jongho couldn't help but notice the weary expression etched on your face. His heart clenched at the sight, knowing all too well the burdens you carried. He had always known of the battles you fought within yourself and the scars they left behind. Yet, out of respect and understanding, he never broached the topic, letting you open up at your own pace.
Today, however, he felt compelled to reach out, to offer you the comfort you so often extended to him.
"Hey, love," he greeted softly, setting aside his book and rising to meet you.
You managed a faint smile, but it didn't quite reach your eyes. "Hey, Jongho."
He stepped closer, his gaze gentle yet searching. "Rough day?"
You sighed, nodding slightly. "Yeah, you could say that."
Taking your hand, he led you to the couch, where he enveloped you in a warm embrace. "I'm here for you, you know? You can always talk to me."
You tensed slightly at his words, your gaze flickering to the floor. But Jongho's reassuring touch grounded you, as he smoothed over the jagged lines on your arms, easing the knots of anxiety that tightened within you.
"I'm just... tired," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
Silence settled between you, but it was a comforting silence. Jongho pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his arms secured around you.
Jongho nods, his hand finding yours, offering silent support. "You know you don't have to carry it all alone, right?" he says, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you're grateful for the dim light that hides the vulnerability in your expression. "I know," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.
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© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.
Send an ask or a message to be added to taglist
DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY
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429 notes · View notes
thesirencult · 5 months
Text
Pick A Card Reading: Your Soulmate's Letter To Santa About You 💌
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PILE 1
Dear Santa,
I want to thank you for my gift from last year, lol. She is amazing.
She makes me happy and puts a smile on my face. Sometimes I smile so hard my cheeks burn.
I've never felt happier in my life.
The way she talks, the way she moves, the way her eyes brighten up when she looks at a puppy or a piece of chocolate pie, they all drive me wild.
I want to be there for her, this Christmas and every other Christmas after this one. I want to buy her a house as a gift and a ring to go with it, maybe even a car? She doesn't like to drive that much but my baby has to have everything she wants.
What she wants she will get. I love her. I adore her. She owns my heart and soul. I'm proudly whipped.
Thank you Santa, I'll take care of her heart ❤️
~ Your soulmate is a provider. They must be a "golden retriever" type of person. I'm hearing "here comes the boy!". When you first meet them you won't expect to fall so hard for them. They have a compatible sense of humour with you.
PILE 2
Hey Santa Baby,
Am I in the naughty list? Great!
This year I put up with no bs and I said "bye" to everything that held me back. I let go of the old stories and left the world behind.
Well, not the whole world, because I met that special someone and they are amazing. I'm writing down my goals for next year and I want one of them to be to deepen my relationship with my soulmate.
I know that they are special, I'm not crazy! I consciously make the choice to commit to them. I feel like we are twin flames and can not wait to explore they way their mind works.
I want to help them unlock their potential. They are a force to be reckoned with and they don't even know it.
Bye, for now!
~ Your FS (yup, they are) is someone who could very well be a motivational speaker or a content creator in that space. They love doing challenges like 75 hard and lighting up other people's fire. They could also be an athlete or ex athlete. You will love this person's practical nature and approach in life. This person is also very spiritual and they probably have heard of Ayahuasca and other popular terms etc. They remind me of a Tech Founder in silicon valley who is I'm woowoo stuff (no worries, I'm the woo woo stuff).
PILE 3
Santa,
I'm ready to move on from this year. My faith is stronger than ever before.
I've wished for so many things in the last few years. Many of them manifested into my life but one thing still hasn't showed up yet and I'm very bumped because of that.
Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for the life I live and lead. I have almost everything I've wished for but that almost is killing me.
I know she is out there. I've felt her energy before. Since I was a child, whenever I looked up to the stars, I felt this overwhelming connection with someone. This invisible string tagging at my heart at all times. No one has ever made me feel this way and I know that it is unfair to say that for my previous partners but I miss her. I miss someone I've never met. Can you please bring her to me this year? I don't want anything else but my love to come back to me in this lifetime.
I know that the time to meet her is coming. I can feel it, but make it as fast as you can. Please.
I have a lot of goals for the year, especially financial ones. I'll try to focus on them until she comes. Where is she? Where is my love?
I will know she is here when I lay my eyes on her. My heart will speed up and the world as I know it will shutter. Shutter my world darling. I don't care. I made that world by myself and it is time we build our own world together.
P.S. Send loving energy to my soulmate, they need it. Tell them I will buy them their gift myself next year, but for now... This, sadly, has to do.
~ Awww your soulmate is very sweet and... depressed! They don't show it to anyone though but when they are alone at night they drink a glass of wine and think about you. They would want you to be there.
This person is very, stoic and "protected". That give me "military" vibes even if they have nothing to do with the military. This inability to outwardly express their feelings. You will baby them a lot and it is going to look comical but they will love it. Your FS might be older and taller than you and people will laugh when they see how much of a baby they become around your presence. They are very tired of being lonely. Don't get me wrong, this is not someone mopping around, they are just a "closeted" romantic. They hide their true feelings and you will know they love you because they will do acts of service for you or you will catch micro expressions. As soon as you enter in an official relationship they won't be able to keep their hands away from you.
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eternalguk · 2 months
Text
All Yours || jjk. (M)
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Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep.
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↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader
↠ Summary : Your love for Jungkook was a quiet emotion. He was the oxygen you needed to breathe. In his kisses, you found sincerity. In his embrace, you discovered your heartbeat. And in his love, you found your eternal home.
↠ Genre : established relationship au, slice of life au, comfort au, boyfriend!jk & teacher!reader, pwp (teeny tiny angst, fluff & smut)
↠ Word count : 6.3k
↠ Warnings : allusions to sadness / anxiety, oc hating her job, oc is an overthinker, brief mention of taehyung, unprotected sex, female oral, fingering, breast play, making out, reader squirts, pet names, softdom!jk, praise kink and they’re both just hopelessly in love with e/o.
↠ A/n : hi everyone, it’s nice to meet you 🤍 here is a soft Jungkook fic that I have written as a form of closure for something. I hope you enjoy this short musing and can also find comfort from this. Your feedback is always appreciated and I would love to get to know you! Happy reading 🦢.
↠ Song : Chariot - Jacob Lee.
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Work.
The word itself sent a chill down your spine and made your throat feel stuck. What field of work does your job fall into, you wondered as you stepped outside the building.
Am I a babysitter? A therapist? A cleaner? An administrator? A parent? Everyday, as you walk towards your car, the same thoughts fill your brain as you keep your eyes from closing.
A teacher.
All those jobs fell into one category and that was being a teacher.
You loved your job, you really did. But it was finally beginning to catch up to you and burn you out. 
As you put your students’ exercise books into your car, your phone rings. A sigh escapes your lips as you curse whoever is calling you at the moment your brain is shutting down.
A small smile forms on your face as you read the caller id. 
Jungkook.
You answer immediately, your tense body visibly relaxing.
“Jagi? Hello?”
You listen to his voice, eyes beginning to tear up as you realise how much you’ve missed him.
“Guk!” you say brightly, hoping to mask the tiredness laced all round you.
“You’ve not replied all day, I’ve been waiting!” He begins. You already know what’s coming next.
“I told you to message me at break, lunch and to leave as soon as the bell rings for the end of the day. You’ve stayed behind again!”
“Mhmm”
“Do I need to come collect you myself? Keep the car at home, huh?” He scolds, but you know his intentions simply mean well for you. What did you do to deserve a loving boyfriend like him?
“I’m sitting into the car now to head home; I’ll be back in no time. I was on detention duty.” You reply, skin crawling at the remembrance of you waiting for the students to leave.
“Be quick babe, I’ll get your food ready.”
“Okay, my love.” You smile again, counting down the minutes until you see your boyfriend.
“Love you,” he whispers. You imagine the grin playing on his lips.
“Love you more,” you respond, switching your car on as he cuts the call.
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Comfort. Delight. Jungkook.
As you step through the threshold of your home, a sense of warmth and comfort immediately envelops you. The cosy ambiance welcomes you like an old friend, with soft lighting casting gentle glows across the hallway. The scent of freshly made cookies mingles with the familiar aroma of your favourite scented candles, creating an atmosphere of tranquillity.
He truly knows how to bring a smile to your face.
Every corner is adorned with personal touches, from cherished photographs of you and Jungkook, to carefully selected décor that reflects your unique styles. As you move through the space, you can't help but feel grateful for the haven you have created with Jungkook, where you both have cultivated a sanctuary that feels like an extension of yourselves.
Here, amidst the walls that hold your shared memories and the echoes of your laughter, you have crafted the perfect safe space where you can be yourselves, finding solace and serenity in one another's presence.
Smiling, you head into your main living space, waiting to see the only person who puts your busy mind at ease.
Jungkook stands with his back to you. Bam, your playful dog, next to him.
You admire Jungkook staring out the window, lost in the rhythmic percussion of the rain that briskly falls outside. His eyes are steady to each drop, face aglow with the orange rays that spill from the lamp before him. His lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he is enjoying his thoughts, whatever they may be. You move closer to him, hoping he’d feel your presence, yet you stay quiet, allowing him to stay lost in the moment a little while longer.
“You got home fast?” A quiet whisper breaks the silence as a hand reaches out to you, beckoning you to come closer. Nuzzling into your boyfriend, you reply a quick, “mhm,” before reaching up to peck his cheek and resting your own against his bare shoulder.
“And you’re half-naked?” You tease, brushing your nose against his soft skin. Jungkook had evidently just showered, his typical body lotion filling your nose. You’d always tell him how you dislike his lotion, and so he’d use exactly that one.
“That’s what love is,” he’d always say.
“Long day?”
“Long week,” you sigh, removing your shoes at the same time and dropping your bag. You mentally thank the fact that you missed the rain by a millisecond. Having soaked clothes and books would’ve definitely made your day worse.
“Wanna talk about it?” Jungkook prompts, his husky voice already washing you with calmness. You shake your head, “no,” simply wanting to relish in the comforting ambience that occupied your home.
Minutes pass as you both watch the March rain. The day really had slipped away into a moment of time, as if it had never really been yours in the first place.
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“And here is your lasagna, my love. Made by yours truly.” Jungkook smiles, placing a bowl of warmth before you.
As Jungkook places the steaming bowl of lasagna in front of you, its aroma fills the air. He settles across from you, a grin playing on his lips, but you notice there’s no bowl for himself.
"Where's yours?" you inquire, already sensing the answer.
With a nonchalant shrug, Jungkook replies, "Already had mine." 
You roll your eyes, a playful scowl crossing your face. "That's one thing I hate about you," you jest, though there's a hint of annoyance in your tone.
He chuckles, undeterred. "It's not like I can't eat again." With that, he rises to retrieve a modest portion of lasagna for himself.
As you both dig into the savoury dish made by your boyfriend, conversation flows effortlessly. "Shall I ask about work?" Jungkook inquires, breaking the comfortable silence.
You sigh, swirling your fork in the layers of cheese and pasta. "I'm really considering handing in my notice," you confess, contemplating a change to a quieter job.
Jungkook nods understandingly, his eyes reflecting empathy. "You could do with a break," he agrees, his voice gentle. "You know, my dad really liked those jewellery designs you sketched. Come work with us. Plus, I’ll get to see more of you," he adds with a playful smirk.
You laugh, shaking your head. "You just want to fulfil your dreams of office sex," you tease, with a fondness in your tone.
He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hey, don't call me out so soon," he retorts with a smirk, winking at you.
Shifting the conversation, you inquire about his own work, wondering if he felt more settled today with his dad.
“Yeah, I'm enjoying the creative freedom,” Jungkook replies, a sense of satisfaction evident in his voice. You knew he had troubles voicing his ideas, but with encouragement from you, he finally felt confident enough to show his father.
Curious about his recent photography bookings, you ask about any upcoming weddings.
Jungkook's face lights up with a grin. "Yes, Sunmi recommended me to a friend," he reveals proudly.
The joy you felt knowing Jungkook was still able to balance his passion with work was something inexplicable.
"We need to invite her and Namjoon over for lunch," you suggest, already picturing the lively gathering.
Agreeing wholeheartedly, Jungkook nods as you both continue to savour the lasagna and each other's company, content in the warmth of shared moments and future plans.
Breaking the comfortable silence, Jungkook clears his throat, drawing your attention. "Guess who reached out to me earlier today," he announces, a hint of excitement, but shock in his voice.
Curiosity piqued, you inquire, "Who?"
Jungkook's eyes light up as he responds, "Taehyung hyung." 
You offer a polite smile. "Ah, that's nice," you remark, though a subtle tension settles over you.
"He's back in town next weekend with, you know who," Jungkook continues, sensing your unease but pressing on gently.
Your grip tightens slightly on your utensils, but you nod, silently signalling for him to continue.
"He wanted to see us," Jungkook reveals. "I said I'll check with you."
Before you can even apologise for your hesitation, Jungkook reaches over, gently clasping your hand. "Never apologise," he insists, his voice firm yet comforting. "We'll do whatever makes you feel comfortable."
You exhale softly, grateful for his understanding. "I really don't mind him," you confess, your words tinged with resignation. "It's been years, and I've moved on. But being in his presence brings everything back, and I don't feel happy with that."
Jungkook nods in understanding, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "We can cross that bridge when we come to it," he reassures, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
Feeling a wave of gratitude, you offer a small smile before suggesting, "I'll wash the dishes."
Jungkook nods, his expression softening. "I'll go edit some photos," he offers, rising from his seat.
With a silent understanding, you both retreat to your respective tasks, the air filled with unspoken reassurances and a shared commitment to each other's comfort.
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Jungkook hoists you onto the counter effortlessly, gently slotting himself between your parted legs. With a quick peck to your lips, he reaches behind you to grab your cleanser, pumping it twice into his hands.
“I’ll put on some soft music, light a candle,” he begins, lathering the cleanser between his fingertips before doing his best to apply it to your face, “and then I’ll cuddle you until you fall asleep.” 
You simply nod, the sight of Jungkook concentrating on not getting the cleaner in your hair distracting you. 
“Why do you do this for me?” You whisper, genuine curiosity taking over you as you come to terms with just how delicately Jungkook has tended to you not just today, but everyday. Everyday for the past 6 years. The feeling felt foreign but comforting all at the same time.
You weren’t used to someone taking care of you, and as Jungkook dampens a face towel to smoothly remove the product from your face, you realise once again how lucky you are to have him.
“Because you deserve this, angel.” He pauses, grabbing a cotton pad and your almost finished toner. “You deserve to know that you’re also a priority.”
You melt at his words, leaning forward to gingerly press a kiss against his nose. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
You aid Jungkook in finishing your skincare routine which he confidently completes. An intimate silence envelops you and Jungkook thankfully doesn’t pierce it. You didn’t quite feel like speaking right now, your mind being loud enough. 
What would it be like to see Taehyung? Should you say yes? Should you say no? It’s not fair on Jungkook. It’s not fair on you.
“Stop thinking about seeing hyung, Jagi.” Jungkook scolds, offering you a cheeky smile at the same time.
“I hope you know that there’s no fee-”
“I know; I trust you.”
“But-”
“And you trust me.” 
He swiftly lifts you from the counter, and you cling to him like a koala as he carries you to your bedroom. Upon entering, a gentle breeze hits your bare legs which makes you cling to Jungkook stronger, eliciting a small chuckle from the man.
Softly, he lies you on the mattress before joining you underneath the crisp duvet.
“Sing to me,” you whisper as Jungkook pulls you onto his bare chest. You nuzzle into him, basking in the warmth he holds.
“I was thinking something else,” he whispers and he moves you closer.
“And what would that be, Mr. Jeon?” You feign innocence, knowing exactly what is brewing in Jungkook’s mind.
“I’ll just show you, soon-to-be Mrs. Jeon.” He smirks, leaning forward to peck a kiss on your lips.
As the moonlight streamed through the lace curtains, illuminating the room with a soft golden glow, you couldn't contain the flutter of excitement in your heart. The thought of marrying Jungkook filled you with a warmth that spread from the tips of your toes to the depths of your soul.
You imagined the way his eyes would sparkle with joy as you exchanged vows, and the gentle touch of his hand reassuring yours. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that your love was the greatest adventure of all.
“Hey, dreamer. Wakey wakey.” Jungkook laughs, shaking you out of your daydreams.
Dreamer.
A few years ago you wouldn’t have ever imagined having another nickname, but here you were, loving this one the most. Where does time go?
“Jungkook, my love?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Show me, please.”
With that,  Jungkook cups your cheek and moves forward to rub your noses together as his long, slender thumb caresses your blushed cheek.
In the room that is now twilight and shadow, Jungkook lies close enough for you to breathe in his alluring scent. His arms wrap around your back, and in one gentle pull, he is hovering above you, and your skin touches his. You feel his hand in your hair, how he loves the softness, watching it tumble as he releases it. His hand then moves down from your cheekbones to your lips.
“Kiss me, Y/N.” Jungkook requests with his husky voice and you don’t need to be told twice, reaching upwards to sync your lips together. The two of you move like partners in a dance that is written in your DNA. Your bodies fit together as if you were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm. 
Jungkook’s hands are all over you with a vehement urgency, removing the black vest top you had worn to bed. You pull back to admire him, moving his hair out of the way so you can see his beautiful eyes. With a laugh, he brings his face closer to yours, rubbing your noses together, letting your giggles echo inside his safety cocoon. You lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel safe with one another.
“My prettiest angel.” he whispers in your ear.
And then the heated kissing starts again.
Jungkook showers you with kisses, each one different from the last. He pulls you closer to him by your waist as he lets his hands roam your body freely. Jungkook bends down, brushing his lips gingerly over your cheek.
Despite it being a light touch, he still manages to send euphoric sensations through your nerves, making you shiver. The control this man has over you through the subtlest forms of love, is something you still cannot encapsulate.
“If you want us to stop, tell me now.”
You remain silent as he brushes his lips against your temple.
“Or now.” he mutters as he traces the line of your cheekbone with his index finger.
“Or-”
You reach up to interrupt him, pulling him down to collide your lips together, the rest of his words lost against your mouth. Jungkook kisses you gently, carefully as if you were made of porcelain and would break easily. And that’s exactly what you love about Jungkook.. how tender he is with you. How he always makes sure you’re comfortable enough to proceed.
You knot your fist in his hair, pulling Jungkook against you harder. After waiting for so long, a gentle kiss was not going to satisfy your needs. He groans softly, low in his throat, and his arms circle you, gathering you closer against him all whilst beginning to remove the remaining articles of unnecessary clothing that adorn the two of you.
Jungkook’s tongue licks a long stripe down your neck as his fingertips are whisked away in your hair. He holds the back of your head gently in place as he decorates your skin with deep purple stains of ardent worship, as though you’re his canvas. You hug him close to your throat and your naked breasts rest against his bare chest as you grind yourself up against him. Jungkook cups your face, bringing you to face the deep pink hues of his swollen lips as he presses a searing kiss that has you groaning into his mouth. Jungkook indulgently hums into the kiss, the sheets becoming messier as he leans forward, moving himself against you.
You mouth at him sensually as he tightens his grip on your torso, being sure to dote on each part of your skin he roams. He traces his finger down your chest, his lips following shortly after as he cherishes each inch of your skin. He stops at your breasts, breathing deeply on the already hardened nipples. You tug at his soft tresses as he groans against your nipples, before he begins kissing from the valley of your breasts.
“God, I love your tits.” He sighs out as he shifts towards your nipple, taking the hardened peak into his hot mouth. You arch against him, moaning pleasurably as you massage his scalp. It had been so long since you and Jungkook had time to be this close… this intimate.
Hearing you moan so audibly has Jungkook smirking against your soft skin, your reaction spurring him on. The way he was prodding at your nipple with his sinful tongue had you so utterly lost in his ministrations. He was sure to fondle your neglected breast, bringing his hand up to knead it. The pressure of his skillful tongue and the softness of his palm had you sighing out in bliss. Your moans filled the dimly lit room as you writhed underneath the man providing you with utmost pleasure, realising that this is just the beginning of his ministrations.
You pull Jungkook back against your lips, crashing them together once again. His slightly rough stubble rubbed against your skin in the most delicious way, far from uncomfortable. Jungkook cinched you further into him as he felt the silken strands of your hair. Stopping the soft assault against your mouth, he pulled back.
“I love you Jagi. I really do.”
You stared back at him, swollen lips, messy hair and watery eyes. Jungkook looked down at you through heavy lidded eyes, eagerly needing a response.
“I love you more, baby.” You whisper as you reach up to press a kiss between his brows. Your pussy clenches as your eyes are drawn down to his thick erection. The heat in your gut is only gushing more. You hear Jungkook click his tongue as he palms at himself in order to distract you from it.
You reach forward to grab, but Jungkook stops you before you can even do so. A simple shake of his head gives you the answer you were certainly not looking for. He can’t help but feel proud knowing that despite you both being together for so long, despite you both being in this position frequently, you still always managed to become amazed by the size of his length and what he could do with it.
But today? Today the air around you both is filled with a sense of shyness. It most definitely isn’t the first time for you both, but you’re so nervous you’d never know it. There’s something about Jungkook that lights you up from the inside. And something about you which melts all of Jungkook’s confidence to nothing at all. Touching him is like being handed the holy grail. Almost as if your heart is mended each time you are together even though you never knew it was broken.
Your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and your heartbeat increases. He stares at you with deep respect and adoration, it almost hurts. No one had ever paid this much attention to you before Jungkook. No one had loved you like this. No one had celebrated you in this manner. Jungkook changed that. He stayed with you in your quietness and kissed the scars you hid from others. He is your greatest and rarest treasure. A blessing that brought you inner peace.
Jungkook’s hand that lies on your waist gradually makes its way down to your hip, stopping at the very border of it. 
“If I may?” He reaches forward and whispers before nibbling on your ear.
You nod and that was all the consent Jungkook needed. He has you far too riled up for you to even consider stopping his ministrations. 
“I’m going to show you how much I love you.” He pauses. “Going to show my angel how happy she makes me.” He breathed out.
“Guk-”
His actions interrupt you as he leans forward to suck on the sweet spot right behind your ear. You inhale sharply and he uses this opportunity to trail his hand down further. Jungkook himself may have been shy, but his doings were far from it. You felt yourself heat up as his fingers reached your nether lips, caressing the soft and soaked area.
“Always so wet for me, aren’t you, Y/N?”
The use of your name had you clenching your pussy, which wasn’t missed by Jungkook. He smirks against the temple of your head, mentally giving himself a pat on the back. 
“Is my baby feeling shy?” He playfully teases as he faintly  brushes over your clit, refusing any direct contact with the place you need him the most. Jungkook’s other hand grabbed the back of your thigh, bringing it to rest at his waist, granting him the further access he needs. He presses himself closer to you, gently rubbing over your clit. His touch ignites something deep in your senses, you grind into his hand wanting more.
“I don’t want to play too much today.” He simply voices as he pulls his hand away. You whine underneath him, dissatisfied at the loss of his hands. Jungkook’s quick to make that disappear as he lifts your thighs over his shoulders, letting them rest there delicately. You slightly relax, knowing what’s coming next. 
Jungkook slides to rest on his lean stomach as he begins to kiss from your ankle upwards, his hand always just a little higher than the gentle kisses he presses everywhere. You feel your back arch in anticipation knowing where his sinful mouth will reach soon. Your head rocks back as he inches towards your core, ready to moan his name as he devours you wholly.
Jungkook breathes against your soaked folds making you quiver with arousal. He massages the inside of your thighs, attempting to calm your nerves. “Always so pretty for me.” He praises before reaching forward to press a kiss against your clit, making you shudder with  sensitivity. 
“You’ve missed this, haven’t you my love? Missed having my tongue all over your messy cunt? He asks as you run your fingers through his dark locks, tightening the grip on his scalp. You arch your hips into his eager mouth, striving to gain some form of contact. 
“Please.. Jungkook, please.” You breathlessly moan out, patience being a virtue you can no longer abide by. Jungkook gives in to your pleading, knowing that he too, needs to have a taste. Needs to subdue the longing of being deep within you.
Jungkook uses the tip of his tongue to lightly trace your nether lips. You squirm underneath him, moaning his name needily as you try to chase more of his tongue. Jungkook feels turned on seeing you lost in the clouds of ecstasy despite him doing so little. 
“Guk… please, I need more.” You impatiently whine, trying to provoke further action. And so he does. He finally accepts that he’s perhaps tortured you a little too long now. “If it’s too much, princess, be sure to tell me.” is all he musters as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He allows himself to latch onto your quivering cunt, sucking on your labia and making out with it to his heart’s content. 
He buries himself further as he skims with his lips, gathering all your wetness on his tongue as you mewl at the orgasmic sensations he provides. He grants you no mercy as he uses his masterful tongue to eat you up. Jungkook had missed this deeply. Missed seeing you lost in the throes of pleasure with not a single care in the world.
You buck your hips closer to his face, begging for more through your actions. Jungkook flattens his tongue against your cunt, sucking greedily on the pulsing bud, groaning at the sweet flavour he had so dearly missed. 
“Oh god, Jungkook please. I- I need more!” You give up trying to be quiet, chasing your high being your main priority at the moment.
“Baby wants more?” Jungkook smirks against you before he repeatedly licks up your slit, lapping at you shamelessly. Jungkook takes you by surprise as he sinks two of his long fingers into your leaking pussy. He curls them at the right spot and you whimper out loudly, gripping his hair tighter, not even considering the pain it could cause him.
“Jungkook.. Kook.. You can’t just..” You attempt to mutter out, but the excitement of reaching your high overtakes you and you moan his name instead. He pushes them in and out of you fast and hard whilst teasingly slurping at your juices. You know Jungkook is keen to make you come, and he knows he’s reaching his goal by the way your brows furrow and how you haven’t stopped biting your lips.
“Almost there.. aren’t you, angel?”
“Mmm, Guk, please. Please!” You have no clue what you’re begging for, crying out lustily. 
“My baby is so gorgeous. So beautiful for me. My good girl.” Jungkook coos at you, the praises making you need more. Jungkook closes his lips around your clit and sucks it hard as his fingers relentlessly fuck into you. You arch and attempt to push his fingers out. Jungkook understands what you need without words and withdraws them from deep within, instead harshly rubbing at your clit in regular motions, watching you squirt on his tongue and gush all over the sheets.
You mewl distinctly as Jungkook groans at the sight of the mess in front of him. You’re panting hard as he encourages you to continue releasing all your cum. 
“All of this for me, jagi? Come on, show me how much more there is. Show me how good I make you feel.” 
You gasp and twitch from the oversensitivity of Jungkook’s ministrations as he rushes to hover above you, pressing gentle kisses to your face and wiping the tears which had formed.  Jungkook praises you and you don’t fail to blush at his devotion, feeling a sense of pride wash over yourself as he repeatedly refers to you as his good girl. 
“Thank you.” you mutter as you reach to latch your lips onto Jungkook’s, him shaking his head no as he brushes the drenched tendrils of hair from your face. A gentle smile adorns his face as he whispers back an “Always” making you feel flustered all over again. You notice Jungkook looking a little too calm and peer down once again at his painfully hard cock. 
“Let me jus-”
Once again, Jungkook interrupts you as he grabs your hand, stopping it from reaching its desired destination.
“Not today, jagi. I don’t need your hand today.”
“Hmm?” You mutter, confusion written over your face. 
“I just…”
“You just?”
“I just want to make love to my princess.” Jungkook whispers against your lips as he presses his hard length against your soaked core, casting it against your slickness making you whine again. 
Jungkook kisses you so gently, so tenderly, you feel the grand amount of love he has for you through the simple movements of his lips against yours. The two of you continue to make out languidly, the moonlight spilling from your sheer curtains illuminating your surroundings, making it all the more intimate. All the more magical.
He leans forward pressing careful kisses to your bare shoulder up to your ear. 
“I want to make love to you, Y/N. I want to show you how loved you are.”
You bring your dainty hands to rest against his bare chest as he moves to rub your noses together. 
“I want to feel you, Jungkook. I need you.”
And that small whisper is all Jungkook needs as he wraps your legs around his waist and lines himself up against your entrance. Jungkook glances down at where your bodies are soon to connect and smiles as he prods your wet and desperate flesh with his tip. 
“Is this okay, jagi?” He delicately inquires, the warmth in his eyes making it evident that he only wants to provide you with utter comfort and nothing else. “Mhm.” You answer as you move your hands towards the nape of his neck, interlacing them.
Jungkook steadies his hand on your pillow as he pushes himself into your wetness, groaning pleasurably. You arch into him, familiarising yourself with his thickness, the feeling still somehow being foreign. The two of you curse as Jungkook nestles his cock into you, your tightness spurring him on further.
“I’ve missed this.” Jungkook moans out loudly as he softly moves forward to settle into you. “I’ve missed the way your walls clench around me.” You whimper at his words and the delicious stretch, your chest rising as you anticipate his next measure. Jungkook gently pulls out of you, only to penetrate you deeper as he hits your cervix. 
“I want to love you. Softly. Slowly. Take my time and worship you the way you deserve..” He groans as he glides himself out of you once again, your pooling wetness allowing him to drag himself at ease despite the tightness. You are already filled to the brim, the feeling of home apparent to you both.
“I want to kiss every inch of your perfect body. Love you the way you love me, my love.” 
You moan at his confession, tears threatening to spill as the thickness of Jungkook’s cock stretches you out flawlessly. You clench around him tighter which makes Jungkook moan, reaching forward to kiss you harder. 
You whine into his mouth, urging him to move.
And so he does.
Jungkook sets a steady and sensuous pace, pressing his hips into you keenly as he moves in and out of you in a languid manner. He presses sweet kisses to your lips and cheeks, breathing deeply as he softly fucks your dripping pussy. Jungkook looks at you with all the tenderness he could gather, moving his hand to slide at the base of your spine, pulling you further onto his cock. Jungkook presses your foreheads together as he continues his tender thrusts. 
“I love you so much, so much it hurts.”
Jungkook’s precious words shelter you. Protect you. Make you feel whole. They tend to your hidden wounds, caressing over them in the most soft manner. Your heart flutters at his confession, making you wrap your legs around him tighter as you rut against him trying to match the rhythm of his thrusts. The slightly harsh rocking of Jungkook’s hips provided your clit with the relief it needed. Your cum was already pooling beneath you as he kissed the tears of his passion away from your eyes. Jungkook takes your hand, resting it against your head, entwining your nimble fingers with his own. The slight breeze from the air outside and the warmness your room was providing was the perfect mix, making you feel all the more loved. All the more safe with him. 
Your mouths were leaving sloppy kisses wherever they could reach, your sweaty bodies entangled together and your breasts suffused with red from Jungkook’s earlier doings. The both of you felt divine, the wetness all around you being your greatest evidence. The two of you were so lost in one another, so infatuated by each other’s presence, you don’t even realise the mess you had created. You squeezed Jungkook’s hand as he picked up the speed of his thrusts, ensuring to provide you with the ease you needed. 
“I love this.. God, I fucking love the way you make me feel. The way you love me.” You spill, making Jungkook penetrate you deeper. Words were hard to muster and so you refrain from speaking further, simply letting your begging moans inform him how good he makes you feel. How heavenly he makes you feel with every precise thrust.
You don’t need to communicate, Jungkook’s hard and animalistic groans echoing inside your little bedroom are enough on both of your behalfs. He pulls out lightly, before grinding deeper as he presses his taut body against your smaller self, provoking you towards another orgasm. You claw at his back, wanting him closer and so he tightens his hold against you, kissing at your neck as he whispers sweet nothings and innocent promises into your sensitive ears. His rhythmic hips not halting their pace, sensually drawing you towards your end. 
“You’re doing so well for me baby, such a good girl.” And you know he means each and every encouragement that leaves his lips, a reflection of the pure love he feels for you. You thread your fingers through his hair as he sinks himself into you again, hitting against your g-spot, making your legs quiver and him grunting at the feeling of your wetness pooling on his cock. 
Your moans become louder and Jungkook recognises that you need more friction, bringing his hand down to rub against your clit. The sweet pressure as he perfectly thrusts into you has you curling your toes, the feeling of him stretching you wide and making you more wet was exactly all you needed right now. “Almost done, I promise. My baby is so perfect. isn’t she?” He hummed against the temple of your head. 
“Jungkook.” You moan in utter euphoria as he picks up his pace, slamming into you with  completely new force, ensuring he syncs with the thumbing against your clit. Jungkook begins to move harsher, ramming into you hard, hitting each pleasurable spot whilst holding your body down with his strong yet soft hands. 
His actions contrast with the softness of his kisses and the integrity of the loving praises he showers you with. His eyes never once leave you, watching you bite your lips, watching your eyes become more watery, watching the sweat begin to form at your baby hairs.
Jungkook swears he has never seen a sight so gorgeous, so breathtaking. You reach to cup his cheek, telling him repeatedly how much you love him and he gently nods at you, a shy smile breaking out on his face while his pace inside you never changes. 
Your hands find Jungkook’s toned back once again, scratching down it as you feel your insides constrict, the coil threatening to break as Jungkook’s pelvis and skin hits against yours repeatedly. You melt into his body as you seek the comfort Jungkook provides you with his sweet, blissful love. You both moan in sync and mirror each other's expressions as you internally thank the heavens above for the love that has been graced upon you. 
A series of ‘I love yous’ and ‘You’re all mine’ are heard from the two of you as Jungkook paints your insides white. You feel his cock pulsing as he fills you to the very brim, eliciting a distinct whimper out of you. You leak your wetness all over yours and Jungkook’s legs as he rests his head against your shoulder, telling you that you’ve done well through kisses on your warm skin. Jungkook pushes into you harder as if he wants you both to be one just a little longer. As if he wants to melt into you completely. You run your fingers through his damp hair as he finally stills.
“You always feel so amazing.” Jungkook chuckles, evoking a giggle out of you. He slips his softening cock out you carefully, being sure not to hurt you. You wince slightly at the loss of close contact, wanting to experience this all again. Jungkook pecks your lips before moving to rest next to you, splaying his hand against your stomach and resting his chin on your shoulder.
He had moved from Busan to Seoul. Travelled from America to Europe. Europe to Asia. He had felt safe, secure and content wherever he went. Yet the feeling of home, the feeling of evermore was only ever found with you.
“You’re mine.” You softly whisper.
“I’m all yours.”
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The room is now silent, the only noise being heard is the deep panting coming from the both of you and the rain that patters against your window. Cleaning your surroundings and yourselves is far from your mind, Jungkook’s presence and warmth being the only aftercare you need. You wrap your arm around him and nuzzle into his neck as he pulls you closer, straightening what he can of your tousled hair. The breeze from the outside world cools you both down, bringing in a sense of balance; the wisdom to move yet at a steady pace. 
You and Jungkook both have your eyes closed, calming down from your highs whilst resting in one another’s embrace. You feel yourself finally drifting away to dreamland in the presence of your safe place. The beginning of this new spring day was like a love song, one that morphed from a melancholy slowness to a happier and more uplifting tune.
The two of you are relaxed, as the early spring breeze brings for you a sense of hope. An awakening magic inhabits the room, a sensation of an old-spirit rekindling and seeking to knit together all that is good. 
Feeling at peace in the arms of your lover, you know you are safe. Jungkook presses you against himself firmly and before you slip away to a more tranquil mindset, you feel a sweet kiss being placed on your forehead and you know that you are in a flower meadow with Jungkook, surrounded by the colour of his love for you. The thousands of petals representing the thoughts he had. Feeling at ease, you settle well into him.  Every muscle’s tension, lost to the calm ripened air. 
You are home. 
You always are, when you’re with him.
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And there we go. I hope you enjoyed! Feedback and comments are always appreciated <3
Until next time,
🤍
309 notes · View notes
fatuismooches · 2 years
Note
Hello
I just saw your post with the fragile SO and honestly I loved it sooo much ❤️
Now I wanted to request kinda of a follow up. Like what if before you died you wrote them a letter, saying how much you love them and how they made your last days on earth so memorable and stuff like that. And they found it, like maybe a month or so after your death. How would they all react? (I'm specially curious of Capitano because you said you thought he would think that he killed you 😭)
I really love your writing and I plan to make more request in the future 👋
-🦎
♡𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞/𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐝 ♡
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synopsis: The Harbingers are made of steel, unflinching in any possible situation. But it seems that even such strong beings falter in the face of their lover's death, especially after they find a letter you left behind. Can be read as a part 2 to this.
includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader
notes: Hop on the angst train, everyone. This is the first completely angsty thing I've written, and probably one of my favorites + longest pieces. I hope you enjoy this sadness, anon...!
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Pierro:
Pierro carried on. He went about his day, filing paperwork, assigning duties to new recruits. What could he do? There was no time to mourn. The entire Fatui depended on his guidance and orders. He couldn’t just drop everything to fully devote himself to grieving you. But everyone knew - in any spare moment he had, he was thinking about you. Thinking about how he used to be able to go home to you waiting for him. Thinking about the walks he took with you that were heartwarming despite the body-chilling temperature. Thinking about when you were alive.
It was another day when one of your maids came to him with a piece of paper. Of course, she was terrified at being in the presence of the Harbinger, but she presented a folded piece of paper to him, stating that she had found it while cleaning your room. Pierro hadn’t been in there for a while. He was consciously trying his best to avoid it, choosing to pick up work instead. He nodded and the maid quickly scurried out of the room. It was most likely a final memento from you. He should honor that, he thought as he took off his mask.
Dear Pierro,
Hello there, my love. I hope your day wasn’t too tiring. I know how you’re always swamped with your Fatui business and such. You’re the head Harbinger, you know! You should definitely abuse your power to get some more days off. You didn’t hear that from me though, not like I wanna keep you to myself or anything. Totally not because I’m dying to spend some more time with you before I quite literally die. 
You know, sometimes I wish I was a Fatui soldier just so that I could admire you from afar some more. Those recruits are damn lucky, getting to see you more than I do. I don’t mean to complain though. I’m still tremendously grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying the best moments of my life with you. Yeah, even when I made jokes you still had that stoic look on your face but it was still hilarious. I loved when you would wrap me in your coat and tell me stories about Khaenri’ah. Even when you weren’t here, I loved when these random recruits would be scurrying to my room every so often to deliver your handwritten notes. 
Truly, there’s no life I’d rather live than this one… minus the illness part though. I am sorry to make you shoulder another death, my dear, but I love you greatly. I will always be with you.
Quietly, Pierro put the paper down and rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ever since the fall of his nation, his heart had long gone numb. He had tried to ignore the prickling of his heart after your death, but your letter was really rubbing it on. When was the last time mere words could stir up such emotion in him? He didn’t know. But he promised you, this would not be your final resting place. Pierro knew, after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s promise, he would see you again.
Capitano:
Capitano wasn’t very photogenic. After all, all you saw was a helmet shrouding his face in darkness along with his pitch-black armor and clothes. But you had insisted on taking a variety of pictures with him, claiming that it kept you happy. It wasn’t until later on when he stumbled across a scrapbook, with pages covered in photos of the two of you together, that he understood why. Since then, he let you do as you please. The doctors said it was good for you to keep occupied by doing things you liked. And well, it was rather cute, with all the decorations and fancy tape you added. Capitano often found himself looking at it to see what you added when you weren’t around.
But ever since your death, he hadn’t looked at it since. If he did, he didn’t think he’d be able to control the emotions boiling up inside of him. If he looked at your smiling face again, the pain and regret would be too much to bear. But as the days passed by and he continued to think about you, he couldn’t help but flip open the scrapbook, revisiting the memories he made with you so long ago. He flipped until he found a envelope in the middle, causing him to perk up. It had been sealed perfectly, even stamped with one of his seals. Now, Capitano didn’t want to invade your privacy, but what was inside called to him too much, and he very carefully unsealed it with a knife. Inside was a piece of parchment, similar to the ones he used to send you letters.
My knight,
I’m writing this after you just left for an expedition. You’ve just fed me breakfast (a/d fa//ed, but it’s f/ne b/ca/se it w/s c/te.) (The ending part of the sentence has been erased, but it’s still a bit readable.) We took an early bath together, and you helped me choose a nice outfit for today. You dutifully assisted me with my medicine and tucked me back into bed for some rest. Lastly, you’ve just tenderly kissed me with all the love in the world, my favorite part of course.
It’s too bad that I won’t be able to receive any more of your kisses soon. I think the sickness is really catching up to me, haha. (There are some doodles of the two of you randomly drawn in the middle of the paper, with lots of hearts and stars and rainbows. Maybe you stopped because you didn’t know how to continue.) To be honest, I’ve asked the doctors not to tell you, and somehow, they’ve listened to me. I just don’t want you to worry about me. Somehow, for someone as menacingly looking as you, you worry a lot more than I thought (no offense, though.)
I don’t want you to blame yourself for anything, my love. You genuinely made my life so, so much better. Even towards the end, I can only feel happiness that I was able to share some of my life with someone so incredible. You aren’t a monster. You’re the man I love dearly, the one who many people look up to all the time. You did everything and more, which really warms my heart.
I’m saying this because I know how you are and I need to knock some sense into you before you start getting any crazy ideas. Please don’t beat yourself up. If I could choose my destiny, I’d rather choose to be sick and be with you rather than being healthy. I’d choose you again and again, over and over, my dear. I love you, truly.
Carefully folding the letter, he tucked it into the envelope again and resealed it. He snugly placed it back into the scrapbook and closed it, placing it back into the drawer where he usually kept it. Capitano was used to the grief and destruction that war brought. But he wasn’t used to it when love brought these feelings upon him. His heart still hurt - terribly so - but… your letter seems to have brought him some peace. You would forever be in his heart.
Columbina:
It had been a while since your death. By now, everyone had become accustomed to hearing her songs every day. It was a constant reminder of your passing. Oftentimes,  Columbina had begun to stay in your room longer than her own. You were gone, but something about your space soothed her soul a bit from all the grief she was going through. And she also liked to go through your stuff and remember different things about you.
There was a box that contained a compilation of the many songs and poems she gifted you, along with some that you created yourself with her help. Sometimes, she liked to go through the box and think about you, but she never had the time to inspect every piece. Until now, when she noticed that there was an unfamiliar piece of paper that she didn’t recognize. Columbina picked it up and began to read.
My lovely melody,
Lately, I’ve begun to sing more. I think you’ve inspired me. I hope you don’t mind me stealing that one song you like to hum the most. The only problem is that I don’t have enough stamina to sing for that long, and I think my voice is kind of off-key. But I promise I’m working on it! I’m not going to tell you yet because I want to surprise you with something nice, as a thank you for taking care of me for so long.
Actually, there’s another problem, and it’s that… (it seems that you wrote a lot of words here and then scratched them out; perhaps you were unsure how to word it) Well, I guess I don’t really know if I’ll live long enough to perform for you. It’s been kind of tough lately. But I’m going to persevere for you. Your poems have been helping a lot. We should make a book of them one day. And um, in the case that I don’t make it, I would like you to know how happy you made me.
I always got so giddy when I heard you humming down the hallway. Nothing felt better than when you would croon to me and massage my scalp and play with my hair. You are so comforting and sweet, and just - lots of things that would be too much to write. I always feel eternally fortunate that I was able to have a lover as amazing as you. You really did change my life. I love you very much, Columbina. Please don’t forget me.
Columbina’s usual smile had turned into a downward curve. Oh, how she wished she could hear you sing. Your usual voice and laugh had already been angelic to her, she knew your songs would be beautiful too. But you were no longer here. She would have really loved to hear your song. You would have been the best duet partner. But perhaps, you could hear her songs from the other world as she laid on your coffin once again.
Dottore:
Dottore hadn’t entered your room since your death. He was far too busy with his research and experimentation with resurrection. Mourn you? No, no, you weren’t going to be dead for long, after he finds the answer. You would be back in his arms soon enough. Both of you would be fine. That was, until no matter how hard he researched, he always seemed to hit a dead end. It was frustrating. He couldn’t believe it, but he was at the point where he willingly needed a couple of minutes to rest. Dottore headed to his room, but as he placed his hand on the doorknob, something stopped him and he looked over to the room next to his, yours. He silently walked over and opened your room, having not been in it for a while. The only reason you didn’t share a room was that his was very… bland, boring, not very comfortable, and not spacious enough for the medical equipment.
It was the same as he had left it, not bothering to change anything. You liked to decorate it, and he let you. Framed photos of the two of you were on the dresser, lights hung up around the room. It seemed to make you happy. But there was something he had not noticed before - a slip of paper sticking out from under the pillow. Dottore walked over and took off his mask - something he unconsciously tended to do when it was just the two of you - and opened the folded paper.
To Zandik,
I remember when you first took interest in me, looking at me up and down with your mask on, a wide smirk on your face. I knew my parents said they hired someone intelligent to cure me, but I sure didn’t expect it to be the second Harbinger. I think you already know this, but when I saw you, I was kinda scared for my life. And I was for a while, especially when you made me drink the most hellish concoctions and injected strange things into me. But long story short, I still fell in love with you somehow. Even though you were probably trying so hard just because you wanted to solve the mystery of my illness, I couldn’t help but think you were quite handsome when you focused on something so intensely. Your pointy teeth were the cutest. (The previous sentence has been erased but Dottore could still make it out. You were an idiot, he thinks.)
I don’t mean to insult your intelligence or skill… but I don’t think I’m going to make it, Dottore. I know you’ve been trying really, really hard (I was there the whole time, after all) to help cure me, but I think you know better than me about my condition. So yeah. I guess this is my goodbye… my parting letter.
I know you don’t care about anyone or anything really, but I hope you accept it when I say I genuinely enjoyed our time together. Yea, you were hella terrifying and a lot of scary stories drifted about you, but there was a lot of maniacal laughter and you rambling on about things I had no clue about, but I would always happily listen to you, Zandik. I would write more, but I don’t think you’re one for sappy words and stuff like that. So I’ll leave end it here. I love you very much.
His mouth was a straight thin line at the end of your letter. Dottore put his mask back on and tucked your letter into his coat. For once, he couldn’t blame someone for insulting his intelligence. He did fail, after all. But Dottore was no stranger to failure. Experimentation was a series of trials and errors, failures and successes. He swore to himself that you would not be a failure. Perhaps his journey to Sumeru, the land of wisdom, would grant him some more insight for your resurrection.
Pulcinella:
It was just after your funeral. Surprisingly, all the Harbingers had gathered too. It seemed like they had grown somewhat fond of you after Pulcinella introduced you to them, at least enough to attend your funeral. Pulcinella was grateful. He had spoken a few words in memory of you. He couldn’t keep everyone for long. They had other matters to attend to. But in his heart, he had a lot of dear words for you. 
Pulcinella sat down at his desk, deciding to do some paperwork to distract his mind. He pulled out the drawer to retrieve some items but he noticed a piece of paper stuffed to the back of it. He certainly had not put that there. He reached for it and opened it to read the contents.
Hey Papanella,
Do you like that nickname I came up with? I haven’t said it to you yet because I’m not sure how you’ll react. But I think it’s pretty cute. I haven’t said this out loud yet either but… um, I guess you’re like my dad to me. My own parents never cared much for me after my illness proved to be too much work, but you always treated me so kindly. So yeah. Thanks for being a father figure to me. Archons, this is kind of embarrassing.
I’m admitting this because I don’t know how much longer I have. I know you’re always encouraging me to keep living on, and I really do appreciate it. I’m sincerely trying my best, but I think my sickness has been getting worse. Ah, and thanks for introducing me to the Harbingers. They’re pretty scary but they’re kind of cool when you get to know them. Some of them are cute too. Please don’t tell them I said that. But really, for the longest time, I thought my life would amount to nothing, and that no one would remember me. But you proved me wrong. I truly enjoyed spending the last of my days doing old people stuff with you (just kidding of course!)
I’m going to ask you to tell me lots of more stories when I see you again. They really make my day. I like the ones about you in your youth the best. They’re the funniest. Anyway, I love you, gramps. Don’t miss me too much.
Pulcinella was old. He had seen things be built and broken down, people come and go. But he always hated it the most when he had to see youngsters go before he did. Especially innocent ones who had done nothing wrong. He just prayed, that whichever world you were in now, treated you better than this one did.
Scaramouche:
Ever since your death, the soldiers had been on the receiving end of Scaramouche’s insults even more. No longer were you here to hastily save them from his berating, much to their dismay.  They actually appreciated you for stopping Scaramouche from giving them another verbal (and sometimes even physical) beating. But now if he wasn’t yelling at someone, he was deathly silent, which was why even scarier than his words. Everyone knew they were forbidden from speaking about you in his presence.
When Scaramouche had to visit Inazuma for whatever reason, he always found himself walking towards your house. Once he had came across the Tenryou Commission moving your items out of your house, due to no one living there anymore and the want for someone else to buy it. Needless to say, he swiftly dealt with them and sent them on their way with rage. They had tried a few more times and he did not hold back, until later they stopped coming, apparently after the head shrine maiden gave an order on the behalf of the Shogun to leave the residence alone. Hmph.
He doesn’t know why he keeps coming here, the only thing that’s different is the new collection of dust on the dresser. But the want to see you again keeps calling him, only to leave Scaramouche sorely disappointed. He thinks he knows every nook and cranny of your house, that is until he walks on a floorboard that caves in and nearly makes him fall. He’s about to lose his temper until he sees a piece of paper hidden under the floor. The words die in his throat as he picks it up to inspect.
To my beloved Kunikuzushi,
As I write this, you’re probably yelling at some unfortunate Fatui soul and they’re all trembling in their boots. Haha, I wish I was there to see that. You should be nicer, you know. But it is kinda funny to see you mad. I hope you come back soon… it’s getting too quiet around here without your quips and remarks.
But I know as you read this, I’m no longer alive. Kuni, I… (There are wrinkled spots around this area, presumably from your tears.)
I love you, and I don’t want rage and hatred to consume you again. I’m sorry to make your heart bear such pain again. It may be fruitless to say this, but please don’t blame yourself… it was out of our control. Please know I enjoyed every moment with you, whether you were cursing at some guy who bumped into me, even when you teased me relentlessly, or silently crying in my arms about your fate. But my favorite part was your soft smiles which grew more frequent. You are loved very much by me too. I want to see you smile more, many more times before I- (The rest of the sentence was scribbled over with a pen, making it unreadable.)
I wish I didn’t have to depart so soon… I wish I was born someone else, someone more strong and healthier… if I was, would our story be different, Kuni? Perhaps we’ll meet again one day… hopefully, sooner rather than later, and maybe I won’t be the same as I am now, but…
Will you wait for me, Kunikuzushi?
Scaramouche hated when he cried. He felt weak, stupid, and disgusting, especially when you were there. And somehow, he couldn’t help but feel worse than that when he finished reading your letter. He was never favored by the Gods, having been betrayed by one already. It seemed as though he was always fated to be betrayed by people he cared about. But he knew deep down that you didn’t betray him, he did instead by not being able to protect and save you. In an effort to bury his despair, anger, and grief, he would wipe himself clean of foolish human emotions, ready to ascend to godhood with his creator’s Gnosis…
Arlecchino:
Arlecchino’s days had been exactly the same ever since your death. They were the same as before she had met you too. Bland. Boring. Dull. It was after your passing that she truly realized how much your presence had added some thrill and color into her life. Now they were empty. But she was used to that. She had felt that way for a long time.
Arlecchino didn’t do much in her room besides sleep. Her room wasn’t anything special, just the standard and rich master bedroom. That was, until you took it upon yourself to decorate it. She hadn’t bothered to change it despite the style being very much different from hers. Today she had come in briefly to retrieve some documents under her bed. But, there was a random piece of paper there, collected dust on top of it, most likely from being placed there a long time ago. Arlecchino opened the folded paper and was greeted with your handwriting.
To my sunshine,
I bet you’re wondering why the hell I chose “sunshine” of all names. Even I can admit that you are nothing like sunshine. But I wanted to spice things up a bit, and to be honest, you bring a lot of sunshine into my heart and dreary little life, despite your stone-cold face. So yeah! I don’t think I can call you that to your face though. It’d be too scary.
I didn’t tell you, but I’ve had some people ask me why I chose to stay with you despite my health being what it is. My answer is always very easy - I love you, Arlecchino. Plain and simple. They don’t know how you are with me (which I’m kinda glad for… I want to keep this side of you to myself; yes, I know I’m greedy.) The way your lips quirk up for a split second then always turn downwards because you don’t want anyone to see. The way your eyes soften for a bit when I tell a corny joke. Or when I do anything actually. Your facial expressions are pretty cute.
Ahem, moving on from that, I guess you can say that I’m not too scared to say these things because I might be leaving you soon. Not of my free will, of course. Rather, it seems like the time my illness is allowing me to live is limited. Hopefully, you don’t notice anything off about me. I don’t think I could explain all of this in person… 
But I am really thankful to you for sticking by my side for so long. Even though you don’t tell me, I know sometimes you lament about your lack of ability to be verbally and affectionately comforting. But I hope you know that I don’t really care about that. You are more than enough for me. You’ve done a lot more than you think. I’m forever appreciative, my dear.
Arlecchino was left speechless, the usual bite in her throat died down. As someone who had few kind words to say to others, having such sweetness directed at her was not something she was used to. But of course, a part of her wasn’t surprised, because the only person who’d utter such things was you. It pained her, and even the children who cried after your death, greatly. But whenever she needed a reminder of you, she would uncharacteristically gently trace her fingertips over the words of your letter.
La Signora:
Everyone knew to stay out of La Signora’s way after your death. She was cruel before, but your passing seemed to reignite all the flames of anguish and hatred she harbored deep inside her broken heart. Once again, her walls had been put up to be unbreakable.
Rosalyne had gifted you a lot of makeup and accessories. She liked to experiment on you and liked it when you tried it yourself too. You had kept everything in a nice big box so nothing would get lost. One day she felt drawn to it again. She knew she was missing you dearly again, and although opening it would just cause her heartache, she couldn’t help but pry it open to see how you kept it. But on top was a hastily folded letter, stained a bit by the surrounding makeup, tucked into a small compartment. She flipped it open and began to scan the contents.
My dearest Rosalyne,
Hello there, pretty lady. You know, that’s the first thing I thought when I saw you. Tall pretty lady. Did you know that? Now you do. Anyway, I was wondering - how many of your flame moths can you create at a time?? Can you make them form a heart or something? 
Haha, I’m sorry for beating around the bush. The truth is I don’t know how much longer I have left. No matter how much warmth your moths provide me, for some reason, I always feel the chill of death creeping up my spine…
I don’t mean to be your second heartbreak. I’m really sorry… you deserve so much better than that. But for what it’s worth, you made my life a lot better than it was before. I hadn’t had much confidence in myself because of my illness for a long time. But you, Rosalyne… you made me feel like an actual person, as strange as that sounds. I feel like, when I’m with you, you make me feel so loved and special. I’m far from it but I actually feel like royalty. And royalty is really a life worth living. I don’t even know how you did it, but thank you. My life is so, so much happier thanks to you.
Hopefully, I make it a lot longer after I’m writing this letter. Maybe the Gods could finally take pity on me and give me some kind of blessing so I can stay with you longer. But if anything happens, I really, truly love you, Rosalyne. (The end of the letter has an origami moth colored in and taped to it.)
Signora’s hand trembled as she finished your letter. Her heart had returned to being ice, but it felt like her whole body was being swallowed up in red-hot grief and anger. Signora would dedicate herself solely to the Tsaritsa’s noble dream. It was the only thing she could do now, with nothing else to do and no one left for her freezing heart to love. No one could ever hope to understand the grief and pain she’s been through. Perhaps, that was why when she stood in front of the Raiden Shogun’s sword, she did not feel much regret.
Pantalone:
Whenever Pantalone went out, he often found himself looking through the windows of many stores to view their products. It was almost an instinct to pull out a large sum of Mora to buy anything he thought you’d like. And he still did this, only that he stopped halfway every time when he remembered that you were no longer with him. And his heart felt painfully heavy once again, like how heavy his smile felt with the pressure to keep it up.
The silence of his office had become a norm once again, your joyful presence no longer around to brighten it up. Pantalone opted to drown himself in paperwork to ignore it. Actually, he never realized how much the tick of the grandfather clock bothered him until now. Usually, your voice was loud enough to hide it. He sighed and reached for the bottom drawer to get some new pens to sign the documents. But his eyes widened as he saw a paper clearly laid out there, addressed to him at the top. His heart beat quickened as he carefully picked it up and realized it was from you. It seemed like you had experimented with some fancy calligraphy pens he had gotten you a while ago. And you had also stolen every stamp you had from him and stamped all over the paper.
Darling,
Hello, my love. Sorry for all the random stamps. I wanted to see what they looked like. Why does the Fatui need so many different-shaped stamps? You should make one of us, actually. And do you see I’ve been practicing my cursive script? (Indeed, on the back on the paper, your name has been signed in different styles.) I’ve been trying to do my signature all fancy like you. Hopefully, I’m improving.
I am thinking to make you read me a bedtime story tonight. I found a new one that seemed pretty cute. It’s a commoner falling in love with a nobleman… a tale of forbidden romance. It seems to go fine, until the commoner s/cc/mbs to (It seems that you scratched off the rest of the sentence.) Actually, I won’t spoil the ending for you. But by the time you read this letter, we may have finished it already. I’m just going to abuse that pretty voice of yours as much as I can (kidding of course… but no joke. Have you tried some kind of service where you just read things to people? I think you’d make a lot of money from that. I sure would give all my life savings to you.)
I guess since I’m writing this, I should say another thing I’m thinking about. I’m not sure how much longer I can hang on. I’m trying my best because I don’t want to let you down. I know you’ve been trying your best, with all these fancy doctors and equipment, but um… yeah. But I should also say that I’m not regretful having spent my time with you. You made the last days of my life so relaxing, so stress-free, so… nice. I’m glad I don’t need to worry about anything with you. Let’s move on from this, actually.
I’m thinking of a lot of things, actually. I wonder what you made the chef prepare for us tonight. Mhm… I’m getting hungry. Will you feed me dessert again too? Hah, I’m going to miss thinking about such mundane things. Hmm, I think I can hear your voice down the hall, so I’ll wrap this up. I love you.
Pantalone gazed at your words forlornly, his mouth formed into a downwards line. He had never thought the loss of something besides Mora could squeeze his heart so painfully, but here you were, making his eyes sting once again. Blinking back any tears, he made sure to store your letter in a safe place. He made a note to visit your grave today. He’d bring your favorite snack too, and read you a story perhaps.
Sandrone:
It was almost ironic - the puppet master had become a puppet herself. She didn’t speak much to others anymore, choosing to lock herself up in her lab. A part of her debated making some kind of robot or doll replica of you. But it would never be the same. She wouldn’t feel your warmth, or your natural, free laugh. Nothing would be similar.
Sandrone had begun inspections on all of her created robots. It was a grueling process she had gotten used to, but she missed the chirping of your voice as she did so. She worked in silence, opening the compartment of one of them when she was caught off guard by a formerly white paper, caked in dust, inside. The only person who had access to her Automatons was you. So could it possibly be…?
My forever,
I’m actually writing this in the same room as you. You're too preoccupied with your robot building and engineering and all that stuff, so you don’t notice me rushing to write all of this. I’ll make this quick. Actually, it’s hard to concentrate when you look so pretty and intelligent. Ahh, I’m so lucky to have you with me.
I think you’re repairing one of your robots so it can lift us up and take us on a walk. I’m excited. Those are always so much fun. I know you aren’t a sappy person. But I want to make my feelings clear, since I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to watch you unscrew some bolts and hammer down the nails. I don’t need to say it outright, do I? We both know I’ve been getting worse. Neither of us wants to say it out loud, but it’s reality.
Before I go, let me make it clear, since I know you like being blunt. You are my everything. Seeing your cute little robots send me these cute little messages really made my day. I think you told me a long time ago that you didn’t care much about human emotions. I think that’s changed now. I love waking up to see that calm and content expression on your face and watching it become a bit more softer when you see me. You’re more human than you think, you know. Some people think that being cooped up in a lab with a Harbinger is not an ideal way to live. But I beg to differ. I would choose no other way to live as long as I’m with you, Sandrone.
I think you’re finished with your tinkering. I’m going to have one of the robots hide this paper in them. I think some of them like me better than you >:) I wonder how long it’ll be until you find it. Hopefully, you don’t find it too quickly because it’ll be awkward to explain this to you. Either way… I love you dearly, Sandrone.
Sandrone gently brushed off the dust on your letter. She wished she found it sooner. She didn’t know whether it was good or bad her heart was finally feeling some emotion again, but she was grateful to have some final parting words from you. Sandrone had a bubble of inspiration float up in her. She had a good idea of what she was going to build next.
Childe:
Childe had found it after he was cleaning out your apartment in Liyue. He wanted to bring all of your stuff to his home in Snezhnaya. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t throw any of your items away, even the random useless trinkets. Childe’s chest felt hollow as he opened the door to your residence. He expected to see your face brighten and eagerly pull yourself out of bed to hug him. He’d easily lift you off the floor and spin you around, drinking in your gleeful giggles as he pressed his lips to yours. But now it was just the creak of the floorboards as he walked in.
Childe had a memory connected to every piece of clothing that you had. That one he gifted to you for your birthday. Another he remembered twirling you around in on a picnic. One of his sweaters that he doesn't remember you stealing from him, mingled with your scent and his. Archons, his chest hurt so badly, but there was nothing he could do as he neatly placed your items in boxes, emptiness consuming him. He was finishing up the packing when a piece of paper folded in half fell out of one of your pants’ pockets. Childe picked it up and his eyes widened when he recognized your handwriting and his real name. Sitting down on your bed, he began to read.
To my one and only Ajax,
My greatest wish is that you’ll never find and read this letter because it means that we’re living our best lives. We’re happy, content, still deeply in love with each other… living in bliss. 
But if you’re reading this, then we probably didn’t go and do all of the cool and exciting things you wanted us to. I didn’t move to Sneznhnaya and I didn’t meet the rest of your family. We didn’t go travel to all the nations like you wanted to…
Heh, that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to seeing the same sights you saw on your travels. The pretty bloom of Inazuma’s sakura trees, the beautiful snow-covered streets of Snezhnaya. Remember that time you asked me if I wanted to conquer the world with you? Of course, since I can’t ever say no to you, I accepted your proposition. But in my head, I couldn’t help but think that you should probably choose someone who can match your ability and someone who is act/a/ly g/i/g to b/ ali/e. (The previous words have been haphazardly erased, making it hard to make out.)
You know I… (The ink here has bled through the paper, most likely due to you stopping there for a good while.) I don’t even know what to say, I’m just sorry. I don’t wanna leave you, I wanna be by your side forever, wanna be attacked by your cuddles every day. But the only thing I can do now is to make sure you understand that I’m truly grateful for you. No one else has ever cared about me as much as you did. You never stopped believing in me and always smiled when I needed you. You made my feeble life worth living.
Please don’t be sad. Teucer and the rest of your siblings need you. I love you so very much…
He didn’t realize how hard he was digging his fingernails into his skin until he started bleeding through the paper. Childe had been through endless battles, and fought countless enemies, but no wound had ever burned as badly as his heart did right now. Even in the Abyss, he did not feel as bottomless of despair as he felt right now. He wanted to hold you again too, Childe thought. He wanted to kiss you all over and show you how much he loved you. But you were gone, and the letter just solidified it more. He laid down on your bed, hand covering his forehead as he stared blankly at your ceiling. Biting down on his lip hard, he tried to prevent tears from flowing again. He would just go back to being the Tsarista’s weapon again, drowning himself in battle and blood just to feel something after your death.
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homestylehughes · 2 months
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part 1: the big spill
pairings: luke hughes x fem!reader
summray: on her way to an interview at the prudential Center, someone crashes into y/n someone causing her coffee to go everywhere, and that someone happens to be luke hughes.
wc: 786
warnings: slight angst? cussing, slight fluff. flustered and nervous reader and luke. nothing too crazy yet. OH cliffhanger..kindaa
au: hi everyone!! i'm back with another luke fic but most importantly i'm starting my FIRST ever series woooooohoooooooo. im super excited and nervous to write but i can't WAIT. anyways! i hope you guys enjoy the first part of this series. like and reblog if you'd like. thank you so much for all of the love on my other works, i'm so grateful.
happy reading <3
I'm late. Very late. I'm rushing. No, I'm sprinting. 
I'm late to the most important interview of my life, all because I wanted coffee. 
I shout out a quick “thank you!” to Bastria and sprint out the door. I have 5 minutes to get there. I think to myself I can get there on time. I can do this. 
Quickly running across the crosstalk, I can see the Prudential Center. Almost there, almost there. Shit, 3 minutes to spare. I pick up my speed, if that's even possible at this point. I can feel my neck beginning to sweat as I take each step.
As I turn to the arena, I feel a chest suddenly crash into mine, instantly feeling the cold liquid; my coffee runs down the front of me. 
I pull back from the stranger with a shriek. Looking down at my white shirt that's now covered in brown. My eyes began to water. This can not be happening to me. 
“Oh my gosh, shit I'm so sorry” I heard the stranger say, not being able to pull my head up to meet his eyes, if I did, he’d see mine filled with tears. 
I pull my wrist to my face to check the time, I'm 3 minutes late. Late. Now I'm crying, big hot tears are hitting my cheeks before I have the chance to stop them. 
“Hey hey don't cry, i'll get you a new shirt. Let me help you clean up” the stranger speaks again. 
I tilt my head up to finally look at the stranger and I can't believe my eyes. Luke Hughes. you're actually fucking kidding me. His eyes are locked with mine, I'm trying to search for words to say but I can't seem to find any. 
“H-here take my hoodie” Luke says as he pulls his hoodie off his body. Holding it out for me to grab it, taking the hoodie in my hands whispering a small “thank you” in his direction.
“you’re welcome” he says as he clears his throat, “again I'm really sorry” Luke speaks again. “It's okay” I sigh back, my eyes meeting him again, “ thank you for this, I have to go” I quickly say to him as I turn on my heel, I can feel more tears on my waterline threatening to spill. 
As I make my way away from him, rushing to find a bathroom. I hear someone shout “HEY” behind me, I turn around briefly, to see Luke still standing there “I NEVER GOT YOUR NAME, I'M LUKE” he shouts at me. “Y/N” I yell back, as I turn back around not waiting for his response.
 Im quickly rushing into the bathroom, taking in my disheveled state. Tearing off my shirt and throwing it in my bag as I put Luke's hoodie on, his scent filling my nose, he smells good I think to myself. I pull myself out of my trance quickly. Grabbing a paper towel and bringing it under my eyes and wiping away mascara that's fallen on my face. Fixing my hair, licking my lips deciding this is good enough. 
Glancing at my watch, to see that I'm now 10 minutes late. Shit. I began to run through the center, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, my chest and legs burning each step I took. 
Finally getting to the place where I'm set to have my interview. I slowly walk into the room, hoping my devils hoodie gives me brownie points and distracts them from the fact that I'm over 10 minutes late to my interview. 
  “Y/n! there you are! I was starting to think you wouldn't show!” “I'm Micheal but you can call me Mike,” Mike says to me as he holds his hand out to me, I quickly grab into a shake. “I'm super sorry I'm late” I say quickly, “I had a… coffee accident” I chuckle out. If you only know who ran into me, Mike, I say to myself. 
“Its okay, no worries! You're here now and that's all that matters!” he says back to me, i smile back at him. 
“Lets sit, and get this interview rolling” he says while pulling out a chair for me to sit in, quickly taking a seat placing my bag on the floor beside me. 
“Yes, let's get started!” I replied back, “oh nice Devils hoodie! I meant to tell you that when you walked in” he says to me. “Thank you!” I say as I look down at the hoodie. Thanking Luke in my head for bumping into me. 
“Okay let's get started, '' Mike says. Nodding my head quickly in response, i really hope I get this job, I say to myself. 
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goldenhourwriter · 11 months
Text
•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•
part one • part two (you are here) •
⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader
⋆warning(s): i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.
⋆a/n: oh i love writing sassy spider-people
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"And then the hot sandwhiches in the cafeteria suck ass, like, at least melt the cheese. I don't want some luke warm sandwhich that can't decide whether to be hot or cold!"
I hum absentmindely, playing with my bracelets as Ben Parker keeps mumbling and moping on and on about how his life is so terrible compared to all the other Spider-Men. Honestly, when I said he was allowed to get some things off his chest, I thought he meant telling me about the mission that went bad with him, not his whole life story from birth to this moment. He sighs dramtically, plopping his head down at the table we're sitting at, and I flinch at the sudden jolt of motion, my eyes lifting to look at him. He lets out a low, dramtic wail. "See? You don't care either!" He drawls. I roll my eyes.
"Nobody is looking at you, Ben, quit it." He rolls his head to the side with the most awful puppy-eyes I have ever seen. I give him a sarcastic, annoyed smile.
"Sorry, correction. Nobody is looking at you as if they hold any sympathy for you," I tell him as I stand up, having to take a moment to regain my balance from the whale that I am now. He sneers at me, his hair all dishelved from the way he's been tugging at it for the past hour. "I'll have you know that many people give their sympathy to me! There-there should be a book written about me! Or-or even better, a movie!" He calls out with frustration as I walk away from him. I scoff, not even bothering to justify his shouting at me with a glance over my shoulder. The doors to the cafeteria open and then close, and I heave out a sigh.
I think I'd hurl myself out the window if I hear his life story for the 30th time. It's a topic he loves discussing.
"Hey! Y/N!" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. I whip my head around. It could be any spider-person calling my name. From any floor, wall, ceiling, corner, web, anything. You never really know where to look when you work at a place like this.
The voice calls my name again, and this time it's more clearer, calling out behind me. I turn around and see Gwen walking towards me, a smile on her face. I let out a small breath of relief, grateful it's at least someone I enjoy being around, and not like one of the mind-numblingly boring Spder-Men who can't quit talking about how rough they have it. I hope you get who I'm referring to.
I walk a few steps, beginning to speak and raise my hand to wave in greeting, but she stops me with her hands. "No! No! Please, we'll meet you there."
Considerate. I love it. But I also hate it.
I put one hand on my belly, and one hand on my hip, jutting it out with. I give her a soft smile. "You're awre I can still walk, correct? I'm not toally useless," I sigh. She shrugs, not really responding. She holds her hand up to gesture to....something. But I don't really see what it's supposed to be.
"This is Miles," she smiles, with a hint of annoyance in her eye. I look to the side of her which she's gesturing to, but I raise my eyebrows.
"Gwen? Have we really drove you that crazy that you're making people up?" I ask, looking back at her. Her face drops in confusion, and she looks to her side. She groans, throwing her hands down into fists and spins around. I look past her, and I see another teen, presumably Miles, awe-struck and looking around everywhere. He seems a bit lost, but that doesn't hold a candle to the child-like wonder that is clear on his face.
"Miles! I told you not to fall behind!" She shouts at him. Immediatley, he snaps out of his daze, and he looks at her like a lost puppy. I've seen that before. I um, the pieces clicking in my mind, and I watch on with amusement.
This is the kid Gwen usually doesn't shut up about.
I snicker.
Cute, I think to myself as he smiles at her and mumbles an apology. They both clearly have feelings for one another. But, there is that air of nothing is established. A sort of tension. He looks at me finally, and his eyes immediatley drop to my stomach.
"You're pregnant?" He blurts out, and, despite his dark skin, I can still clearly see him blushing at his outburst. I furrow my brows at him, a bit worried that he might faint. Gwen closes her eyes, annoyed, and elbows him in the gut. I bite back a smile while straightening.
"Yes, I am pregnant. And don't even think about apologizing, all the new recruits have the same reaction." I smile as I think back to all of the young adults and teens I've met, each wondering in shock how I'm able to fight crime with two babies in me.
He goes to talk, and stick out his hand for me to shake, but Gwen hits him again.
"He's actually not a recruit, Miguel needed to see him. He's caused a bit of....well..." she trails off. I let out a small sound of understanding as I look at her while she's explaining. I look back at Miles.
"Well, I've already heard so much about you. I really do hope to see you joining our ranks someday," I say politely. I stick out my hand this time, and he takes it, a bit awe-struck. "Well, you know what they say," he says. He holds my hand as I look at him, expecting something. I quirk my eyebrow up. "What? What do they say?" A beat of silence.
"I have no idea."
I stare at him for a moment. Gwen didn't tell me this kid was so dorky. The again, all the Spider-People come from dorky backgrounds. I nod slowly, my hand retracting from his as I put it to my chest. "Great..." I trail off. I shake my head, and I look at Gwen again.
"I was actually just about to go see him, he hasn't had lunch, and I grabbed him an empanada, he usually goes nuts for them," I giggle, holding up the small container in my hand, which was long-forgotten while Ben shared his deepest, darkest corners of his soul. Again.
Miles lights up at the sight of the empanada.
"My grandma used to make those! Fueron los mejores (They were the best)," he beams, putting his hand on is hips, his chest expanding with pride. He bumps his shoulder intp Gwen's, who looks like she wants to crawl into a hole at this moment. I watch with endearment. It is endearing, how he gets all excited. I was the same way learning Spanish, wanting to expand my knowledge for Miguel. I wait for a moment for him to explain himself, my lips quirked up in a small smile.
"See? I know Spanglish," he chuckles, clearly getting prouder of himself. I smile widely.
"Que maravilla (wonderful)," I respond. His face drops, and he looks down, rocking on his feet, his voice growing quiet. I chuckle. "Oh...I see you...know..." "If you don't mind, Miles," Gwen says through gritted teeth. She looks back at me, her smile still strained. "We're going to keep moving along."
I shrug.
"I'll come with, give Miguel his empanada." I walk over to Miles, putting my arm around his shoulder. This throws him off, his eyes growing wide. He glances to the side, then back at me, not knowing what to do. I point to his chest with the empanada-hand. "También me encantaría escuchar más de su español (I'd also love to hear more of his Spanish)," I grin.
✮•
"Oi, there's the little child-bearer," Hobie announces as he gets up from his spot, walking over. He goes to put an arm around me, but I dodge, smacking it away. "Call me that again and I will give you something much, much more painful than giving birth," I growl. He doesn't even looked shocked, he loves riling people up. He pats my head, and walks a bit ahead of us. I scoff at his back, his guitar hanging so loosley off of it it makes me wonder how it's even managed to stay on for that long. I glance over my shoulder at Miles, who still walks a bit behind the rest of us. I slow down my pace, and when we're at the same speed, I whisper to him.
"You okay, kid?" His shoulders tense at that name, so I put my hands up in retreat. "Sorry, I wasn't the biggest fan of it either at your age," I chuckle. He glance at me, trying to find the amusement, but his laugh just comes out....dead. I sigh.
"Listen, Miles, I don't know what happened before you got here. I frankly, maybe I don't want to know. But just know it's nothing we can't fix, alright?" I mumble, bumping my shoulder with his for some light encouragement. He smiles just a tiny bit, his hand coming up to rub the shoulder I bumped bashfully. "Yeah...thanks."
I watch as he walks a bit ahead of me, and I watch as he looks at Gwen with...almost a longing gaze. A bit sad, too. I frown. I know how rough this kid has had it, Gwen's told me, and sometimes I would see him come up in the feed occasionally when I would cover for Miguel, giving him some much-needed rest time. I watched just as I did now, a frown etched on my face, wanting to reach out and tell him that this job does get better, but he wouldn't know I was watching. He still doesn't know I'm watching as we walk through the doors and into my husband's office. I fall into line with the teens, and look up at my husband and his beloved platform. Going down. Slowly. Inch by inch.
I groan inwardly.
This thing again.
I remember my first day here, I thought it was the most terrifying thing, seeing his broad back, all hunched over menacingly over the screens. Then, his mask came down, and I couldn't focus the entire time he was explaining everything to me, I was too focused on his face.
He claims he didn't know what I was doing, but I know that he was just as distracted as I was.
Miles glances at Gwen, and she shakes her head, indicating him not to talk. "I know, it's slow," she says. Miles still looks confused, and he looks over her shoulders and at me. I wave my hand in the air dismissevly. "It's his thing," I mumble under my breath, so Miguel can't hear us. God forbid we ruin his whole macho-'I'm so menacing,' act.
"Miguel O'Hara, meet, Miles Morales!" Gwen announces. No response.
"Ay, ¿Qué tal, tío? (Hey, what's up, dude?)" Miles smiles. "Yeah, I speak Spanish," he announces in front of me for the second time today.
I heave out a sigh, letting my head roll to the front. I look up again, and when I speak, my voice comes out in a shout. I have no idea what he can or can't hear from his mountain hideout.
"Amor, lo entendemos, puedes dominarnos. ¿Apuremos esto, por favor? (Love, we get it, you can overpower us. Let's hurry this up, please?)"
He grumbles something in Spanish, but I can't catch it. He spins around, shooting me a glare. "Glad to see you've met my wife," he says to Miles after giving me a hard look. Miles looks between me and my husband, his eyes scrunched together. He doesn't dare speak yet, however. Miguel smiles angrily, baring his fangs. "Something I had, like most things here now, no control over. Funny, considering I run this place!" His voice gets louder and a bit more sharp as he continues talking, and his hands come to his hips. I roll my eyes, making a sound of annoyance. I heave out a sigh. Miles steps forward, his hands moving while he speaks.
"Listen, man, I'm really excited to get going, I got some fresh new ideas on how to catch the Spot. You know, he just wants to be taken seriously-"
"Oh! Great. Uh-huh, uh-huh," my husband mumbles with a small, pestered smirk as Miles speaks. He lets out a very loud, very agressive roar as he hurls a piece of technology at Miles. Gwen and I both shout with shock, jumping out of the way, and Miles covers his head. Miguel doesn't even stop to consider what he did.
"You were worried about Spot, I'll worry about Spot!" he continues to yell at Miles. Miles is shaking, his eyes bulging with fear at him.
Gwen looks violated, and a bit worried for her friend. "Miguel! It's not his fault!" Miles agrees with her, nodding repeatedly.
"It was his fault, he blew another hole in the multiverse!"
"He didn't know any better!" Gwen shoots back. Miles doesn't quite know what to say, standing there awkardly, as if he and his friends' mom are fighting.
I step forward now, my head lowering as the platforms still moves slowly down.
"Miguel, think about throwing wires at someone! He was just tryng to do what Spider-Man does!" I try to rationalize. His head looks sharply to me, his eyes glowing red. It doesn't faze me, however. I've been on the receiving end of that look a few times, so I'm used to it. "Y/N, you're supposed to be on maternity leave!" He shouts. He holds up a hand, holding in a breath.
"Just...nevermind. You all knew what the risk here was! Gwen! You did! And you-!" Miguel looks to Hobie, pointing at him. Hobie is sliding down a metal arch, head first, on his back, just...enjoying life. As if this is really just his entertainment he threw together. Miguel sighs. "I was gonna try to ignore you," he pauses, before looking away again. "I can't, I just can't-"
"I ain't even here," Hobie mumbles in his thick accent. Miguel shakes his head, his thumb and index finger squeezing the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head as he walks a bit down the platform. I glance towards Gwen, who is already looking at me, silently begging me to say something, anything to try and calm my husband down. I sigh.
"Miguel, darling," I begin. Hobie groans.
"You know, just as a heads up, how married are you two gonna be today? Because I'm debating whether or not to sit here through all the pet names," he says, very annoyed, as he gets up from his seat, walking over to me and putting his arm on my head. He looks down at me, expecting an answer. I let a glare linger on him, and I look back at Miguel.
Miguel turns around again, his gaze boring into my eyes. "You fixed the whole catastrophe on Earth 199999, we can fix this. Don't go so hard on the kid!" I exclaim, gesturing towards Miles. He puts one hand on his hip, and another up to drag across his face, stretching it out.
"No, no, Y/N. He blew another hole in the multiverse! And that little...nerd and Doctor Strange fixed it. Not me! I'm just there to clean up stuff they don't know about so their lives can continue on, all happy and perfect!"
We all stay silent. Hobie lets out a low whistle, and Lyla appears on my shoulder. "I think he's projecting again," she whispers in my ear.
Miguel gestures for me to come over, once his platform has hit the ground, and I sigh, walking over.
"Can you just-just take my side on this? You've seen what these things can do," he murmurs lowly.
"Frankly, I think you should go lighter on him. He hasn't been here for more than 10 minutes, this is all very new. Quit yelling!"
"Uh-oh, mommy and daddy are fighting!" We hear a different, slightly older voice calling.
Hobie calls out. "Oh boy! Humbling reality Spider-Man has arrived!"
Miguel's whole body tenses, and his eyes shut with annoyance and anger. I turn to the door, and in walks Peter B. Parker. The man who practically trained Miles, and the man who thinks he's Miguel's best friend.
He walks in wearing a pink robe over his spider suit, and a baby carrier, but, no baby. He chuckles, a warm smile on his face. "Besides, Y/N's right, don't be so hard on the kid. He had a terrible teacher! He had no chance!"
"Peter!" Miles bounds over to him, giving him a big hug. Peter chuckles, patting his head. "Hey, kid! Don't mind my friend Miguel here, he looks scary but he's got no bite!"
Miguel growls, turning his back towards everyone, mumbling some curses, followed by Peter's name. Peter then makes eye contact with me. "Y/N! You're getting so big!" Miguel turns his head around sharply, his eyes glowing and his fangs baring with rage at his comment.
He winces immediatley. "Forget I said that."
Miles begins to ask him a string of questions, but his eyes travel down to the baby carrier. "Wait-what's is that? You have a baby!" He asks, pointing to it. Peter pats the carrier proudly.
"I have a baby!" He exclaims, mimicking Miles' excitement. At that perfect moment, Mayday crawls down from the ceiling, cooing. I get happy instantly, and she sees me, and squeals. She begins crawling on the walls, cooing and talking to herself in a string of babbles as I wave towards her, beckoning her over.
"Kid's an anarchist," Hobie mutters to himself. I frown at him, but I can't help but feel a bit of amusement at this.
"Don't forget to keep your daypass on, honey!" He calls out. He chuckles, and he begins to climb up the wall too, calling out to his child. Miguel shakes his head, letting his head rest in his hand, muttering "no puedo más," in a low, stressed voice. I put a hand on his back.
"Sólo aligerar (just lighten up), it's a baby, amor."
"¡No voy a entrar en esto ahora mismo! (I am not getting into this right now!)" He hisses, I hold my hands next to my head, signalling fake surrender, and turn back to father and daughter.
Peter laughs, reaching out for Mayday, but she swings away with her own webshooters. She swings next to me, landing on one of the consoles, and I pick her up, nuzzling my nose against hers.
"I knew I was gonna regret making her that webshooter, I shouldn't have done it, that's an actual mistake." Peter hops down, watching me as I play with Mayday. She reaches out to Miguel, and I put her on his shoulder. Besides, I'm not supposed to be carrying anything heavier than 20 pounds. Miguel just stares ahead. Peter perks up again, taking out his phone. "You guys wanna see pictures?"
He runs over to Miles and Gwen, putting his arms around their shoulders.
"Are-are you sure? She's right there..." Gwen trails off when Peter turns on his phone. "This one is the studious one, and-and, oh! The next one you're gonna crack up! Oh-oh, Miguel's gonna die" He laughs. I beam at him. He seems so proud and such a loving father. I put a hand over my pregnant belly.
Peter runs over to Miguel, showing him pictures. "You know I'm trying to hold a serious, adult conversation here," Miguel says quietly as he tries to keep staring ahead. Mayday crawls all over him, sometimes hitting him gently. Peter groans.
"You know, you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny, we're supposed to be funny!"
"The fate of the multi-verse-"
"You always lose me with that!. You say "the fate of the multiverse," and my brain dies!" He exclaims. Mayday rolls on Miguel's shoulder, sqeualing when she falls. Miguel catches her, holding her like a....football. I roll my eyes. "Será mejor que no seas así cuando tenga a tus hijos (you better not be like this when I have your children)," I say to him. He shakes his head, his eyes wide with shock and offense. "Wha-I-no! I'm just not the biggest fan of the Parkers! Sabes que puedo ser muy amoroso cuando él no está aquí para molestarme, ¿verdad, mi amor? (you do know I can be very loving when he isn't here to annoy me, right my love?)" He says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice to a level so that only I could hear it. I put my hands on my hips, giving him a 'then show it,' look. Peter puts his hand over his heart in mock offense.
"Wow, you truly hurt me. And Mayday. You want a baby's feelings being hurt on your conscience?" He stops, and sniffs the air, then looks at Mayday. "You smell that guys? Mayday took a crap. She's a Parker!" He calls out, taking her from Miguel and walking towards where he came in. "That's what hapens when a Parker eats an avocado..."
Miguel sighs, walking over to me and putting his forehead on the top of my head defeatedly, shutting his eyes. He's exhausted, I know that, and our height difference allows us some very interesting advantages. I reach around his neck and pat his head like a little kid as I watch Hobie pick Mayday up, saluting her.
Miguel straightens again, stepping away from me. He addresses Miles again, this timecalmer, but he's still annoyed. With everyone around him. Well, not me. I smirk. He could never be too annoyed with me.
"Miles," he begins, putting his hands on his hips. "You disrupted a canon event.
"Canon event?" Miles asks, but before Miguel can explain, Peter B. pops up again, a full spider web now formed as Mayday crawls and bounces on it.
"The kid wasn't thinking. That's not how he works!"
"That's insulting."
Miles takes a few steps to the right, looking at the ground thinking. "Wait," he looks bakc up at Miguel. Miguel raises his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "What are you upset about, I saved those people!"
Miguel fully steps off his platform. I give him a look, silently shushing him.
I take a step towards Miles, putting a hand on his shoulder, looking at him. "That, unfortunatley, is the problem here," I sigh, looking at him, implying an apology with my tone. Confusion is etched onto his face, and I can't blame him.
"Lyla," Miguel calls out. The hologram appears. "Do the thing."
"The thing?" I ask. Lyla smirks. "What thing?" She continues for me.
"What do you mean, what thing? The information explain-y thing!"
I scoff, taking my hand off of Miles' shoulder. "You're sounding like a mob boss, sweetie. We're not that kind of powerful," I tease, poking him in the side. Lyla laughs, but pulls up the vast, complicated web of canon events, similarities, and differences of all the Spider-People.
"Woah."
Miles steps forward, turning in a circle around himself, oogling at the intricate design.
"What's this?" He breathes out.
"This, is everything."
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