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kairiscorner · 10 months

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happy birthday — miles 42 x reader (birthday special)

↳ summary: miles has been really busy a lot lately, training hard under his uncle to better his tactics at fighting and balancing school and chores on top of everything, he just kind of forgets today was even special. but luckily, you don't forget your boyfriend's birthday that easily. ↳ word count: 1,916

↳ a/n: i did not realize it was my son's birthday on the third, i'm so sorry it's late SJEBCBFIVBRFVBRBVVRBO BUT I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH TO MAKE UP FOR IT, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY MY BOYYYY AND I HOPE YOU GUYS LOVE THIS <333

"got any idea what's up today, miles?" you asked miles with a big grin on your face as you caught miles in the halls before class began. he raised an eyebrow up at you as he glanced up at you after collecting all his books and everything else he needed for his first class of today before heading off. "um... no. is it movie night tonight? because sorry, i... i can't make it tonight, cielo." he muttered as he looked at you with eyes filled with hints of sadness and shame at not being able to hang out with you, despite really wanting to. his responsibilities as being the prowler, a student, and a son have got him really occupied lately. he can't really quit either of these full-time jobs he's got going on right now, and you couldn't blame him. you wished he went easier on himself, though, and took more breaks, took it a little easier on himself, maybe would blow off some steam from time to time and tell you at least how he feels so it doesn't bottle up inside him over time.

you held his hand and shook your head. "nah, silly, it's something more important!" you exclaimed with a grin. miles tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrow as he looked at you with a look of confusion. "um... hmm, is it a study night? i know it's not our anniversary yet, it's not your birthday, uh..." he mumbled as he closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his head, frustrated with himself because nothing came up in his mind. he didn't think there was anything worth such importance today, though if he was being honest, he wasn't sure what date it was today; he just got by the month by remembering what tests were when, if tonight had prowler activities, or if tonight was going to be laundry night with his mom. he was honestly drawing a blank here, he needed you to give him more obvious clues to help him find out what exactly was so important about today.

you sighed as you let go of his hand and folded your arms in front of your chest. miles' eyes widened as he felt you let go of his hand, he reached out for your hand again as he stepped forward towards you. "cielo, wait! please, i... i'm sorry." he apologized first as he stepped back and took in a breath. "can you just, um, tell me what's up today? i'm sorry, i've just been so swamped recently, and i know that's not the best excuse, but i'm not--" he went on and on, but was interrupted by the first bell. "ay, gotta go, cielo, we can talk about this later!" miles said as he scrambled for his stuff and ran off.

you waited for miles outside of his classroom once your class ended, though he had to stay behind and ask the teachers a couple of questions and clarifications over his homework since he was having a lot of backlog due to his duties as the prowler. miles caught a glimpse of you outside, though before he could call out to you or walk over to you, the next bell rang, and you had to attend to your next class. miles couldn't focus properly, he was overthinking about whether or not he upset you, or if you were already disappointed with him forgetting what day it was today. he wasn't able to check his phone or ask for the date today since he was busy catching up with schoolwork. eventually, miles caught you at lunch, but... you were with ganke. you were huddled over with him at his table, the two of you smiling and chuckling at each other as you showed him stuff on your phone.

miles trusted ganke, and ganke expressed how he didn't have any interest in butting in between you two, but the mere sight of you with ganke–all smiles with him and laughing together, after he hadn't been able to spend much time with you recently due to his responsibilities and all–it hurt him deeply, thinking he failed you and were seeking comfort with ganke. miles walked away, hurt and sad, but angry towards himself for the most part. he ate lunch alone, just like he did before befriending ganke and meeting you, but he felt like he deserved it for pushing you aside, even if he didn't mean to and wanted nothing more than to be by your side.

as miles headed home after school, not seeing you in the halls or at the school yard as he scanned his surroundings for you, he felt super dejected and disappointed in himself. he wanted to stop thinking about his responsibilities for once and just put all his time, effort, and focus on you and only you–but he knew that would be a mere twinkle in his eye, a dream that will only remain as that, a dream. but as he entered the front door of his home, he was greeted to the voices of all the important people he had in his life, with yours ringing distinctly in his ears.

"happy birthday, miles!"

miles stiffened as he heard those two words with his name following the greeting not long after. he blinked for a few times and looked around–his mom and uncle aaron were there, so were ganke and... you. wait, could this be the super important thing you hinted about today? oh, man, did he feel like an idiot–he never thought of his own birthday as something of importance, but you... you kept thinking about him, all day. miles was speechless as you approached him, all smiles, and pecked his cheek. "happiest birthday to you, miles." you said as you pulled away and presented to him the gift you had for him. miles looked at you with a puzzled look. "cielo... for-for me?" he asked you as you chuckled and nodded. "for who else, dummy?" you asked him as miles slowly took the gift and stammered. "i... but, cielo, i don't deserve this. i've missed out on countless dates and meet-ups with you, i keep pushing you aside even though i don't wanna, i--" miles rambled on and on, beating himself up for feeling inadequate at making you happy due to his repeated absences.

before he could continue, you hugged him tightly. "and it's okay, babe. you're good. you try, and even if it doesn't work out, it's the thought that counts. i'm already happy you think of me all the time and want to spend time with me, even if you can't. i love you, miles." you tell him in a gentle voice as miles hugs you back, bringing you closer to him as he kisses your cheek. "i really love you, too, mi cielo..." he mutters as you pull away from him and lead him to the couch for him to open his gift from you.

you handed him a thick box, it was wrapped in purple wrapping paper with green accents, with a green and black ribbon to tie it up. you encouraged miles to open it as ganke filmed it, with his uncle aaron and his mom watching intently. miles was gentle in unwrapping the gift, he didn't rip it open, he wanted to feel the suspense of opening the gift you got him. soon, when he saw what was inside, he gasped loudly as his eyes went wide. he kept repeating 'wait, no...' in a breathless, excited way as he realized you bought him the sneakers he had been wanting for the longest time. he could never ask his mom to buy it for him, and he was saving up to buy them himself, but to get them from you... oh, he felt like he had ascended.

"mi cielo, no freaking way...!" he exclaimed in an overjoyed manner with slight chuckles in his voice as his smile widened as the fact you gifted him the very sneakers he had wanted for a long time sunk in and made him momentarily forget the sadness he was feeling just earlier. his uncle teased you as he wished you didn't gift him those sneakers, he'd have a new obsession for a little while and keep his eyes out for him. "that boy's gonna be wary about me, asking me if i touched them. he's gonna be real overprotective of those, especially since they came from you." his uncle aaron quipped as miles told him that wasn't true. just a little true.

miles kept thanking you and kissed you on the cheek, and as ganke was filming, he encouraged you two to share a kiss. "c'mon, you dorks! for the camera! kiss! kiss! kiss!" he chanted, with uncle aaron chanting along with him. his mother chided the two, saying you two weren't going to be doing anything of the sort in front of them, but you decided you didn't care anymore and pulled miles in for a gentle kiss. miles' eyes widened even more as you kissed him, and though his mother cried out in surprise, with his uncle clapping and chuckling as ganke cheered for you two, he found himself not wanting to pull away and kissed you back.

miles pulled away and gazed at you, a smirk growing on his face as he kissed your cheek. "oh, how did i get so lucky? how could i have you, mi cielo? you know, i'll stop being too serious, you're the only lucky break i have from all the chaos in my life. i promise you, though, i'll make up for all the time that should've been just ours together. i swear, i'll make this place safer for you, i promise." he said as he interlocked his hand with yours, clutching the shoe box in his other hand. he kissed your lips and pulled away, causing you to giggle and get flustered. "i'll hold you to that, miles. but please... don't hesitate to come to me, talk to me, or do anything with me. i love you, babe, i don't mind if you miss a few dates or meet-ups, just be safe out there..." you whispered to him with a smile.

his mother retreated to grab a glass of wine as his uncle called out to her to save him a glass, with ganke chuckling as he saved the footage and teased you two lovebirds. "this... has got to be the best birthday ever." miles gushed as he ran a hand through your hair. you chuckled as you fidgeted with the end of his left braid in your hand. "even with your uncle and mom watching us kiss, with ganke filming all of it, probably never gonna let us live it down...?" you asked as you leaned closer to kiss him again and pulling away. miles smiled sweetly at you as he answered, "really." he kissed you again, with you reciprocating his kiss. that truly was going to be a birthday he'll remember, and he's gonna make sure he keeps his promises to you and work hard to earn your love and pay you back for the gift you gave him. though if you were to ask him, the only gift he really wanted was just to... hold you close, hear your voice, and just be with you on his birthday and for all the birthdays there were to come in the future with you, his sweetheart.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @pixqlsin @solecitoszn @q2ie @zalayni @anikaluv

#earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles x y/n #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x y/n #e42 miles #miles morales x reader #atsv #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader

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peachesofteal · 11 months

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Hey just wanted to say I love your writing!!! Somehow it fills me with a sense of contentment I haven't experienced before, maybe it's because I see so much of myself in darling from dead disco and I'm loving all the au drabbles too.

Can we please get a glimpse into what happened when darling saw them at the grocery store. Did she bolt the first chance she got? She's probably still heartbroken and emotionally exhausted but does she miss them? How is she managing motherhood by herself? Does she think Soap and Ghost tracked her down? Sorry for asking so many questions my mind is racing 💗

Hi love! Thank you so much for all your support, you're truly too kind. 🩵🩵 I'm so glad you're enjoying all these crazy little stories, it's definitely a treat to dive into.

Warnings-tags: 18+ Mature themes. Takes place after this.

It doesn't happen, quite like you thought it would.

You had expected to feel fear, when you saw them again. Expected to feel the nerves, the anxiety, the twisting in your gut when you finally laid eyes on them. You imagined those feelings would shift into anger, as they always do, the tidal wave of your rage's strength pulling you under, just as it did the night you left, nearly two years ago.

You're surprised when it's none of those things. You're surprised when it's... sadness instead. A profound sense of loss, the swell of it so strong it nearly knocks you off balance, while it brings tears to your eyes.

Your mouth hangs open in shock for what feels like too long, seconds turning into eons while you cradle the baby's head, brain sputtering while you try to process. They've done it. They've found you.

They're going to take her.

Except... they don't look like they're looking for you. They look they're just out, doing their shopping. They look like they're just... having a normal day.

And they look just as shocked to see you as you are to see them.

Bee gurgles in your arms, a happy song, and you bounce her instinctively, while you break your eyes away to look past them, at the other end of the aisle, and the towards the door. You should leave. The thought primes your muscles, preparing you to flee, when Simon's voice rings out over the dim grocery store music.

"Don't run. Please. Please, darling. Don't run." You hesitate, unwilling to leave the grocery cart, unwilling to try to run through the store, and stand frozen, rooted to the linoleum like you've grown there.

It's like Bee can sense the shift in your mood, can smell your distress, because her happy trill stops, and her face scrunches up like she's confused, before she starts to cry.

"Shhh, baby. It's okay." you hum, trying to rub her back to calm her, while your brain trips over itself trying to go a mile a minute. Run. Don't. Be calm. Panic. Scream. Cry. Run into their arms. Don't be crazy. Don't let them take her.

They're stepping closer now, easing up the aisle towards you, and you shake your head at them as a no. No. Don't come any farther. I don't trust you. Johnny tries to wipe his cheek inconspicuously, while Simon's got his hands out like he thinks he's about to catch a wild animal.

Maybe he is.

"Stop." you half yell it, the word bubbling up your throat and out like a barb, and it halts them in their tracks.

"Darling, please." Johnny croaks, his eyes locked on yours.

"Stop!" you say again, and step backwards once. Bee fusses, and Simon watches her. "I won't let you." you hiss, and Johnny's brow furrows in confusion, while Simon regards you slack jawed.

"Let us what?" He asks and you nearly laugh, except in the moment you realize your breathing is more shallow than normal, lungs tight and fighting your brain for air.

"Take her. I wo-won't." Johnny's face shifts into something crestfallen, something broken, and he makes a strangled sound. Like he wants to speak, but can't. It hurts you, wounds something deep, something you've buried, and for a fleeting moment, you want to comfort him. Want to reach out, and touch him. Only just to feel him again. Simon doesn't anything at all, just stares at you in shocked silence, his hands shaking.

"Darling, we would never-" Would never? Would never?! He seems to realize, what he's saying, and stops himself... before taking a deep breath and continuing. "We know you don't trust us. But-"

"No. That's enough." You take another step backwards. He doesn't stop.

"Please, we can at least try to help with-"

"I don't need your help." You spit, and try not to look at your trolley. It's full of Bee's food, puréed, organic foods and brightly colored snack packs, while your own is a smattering collection of bruised produce and discount rack canned goods. "We're fine." you double down, but your voice cracks with the weight of the emotions that you're staving off, and Johnny looks heartbroken. "I'm fine. I'm doing it on my own. I've been doing it, on my own."

"I know." Simon's voice is soft, gentle, the gravel pitch smoothed into something velvety, just for you. It tugs at you, stabs and twists, nips at your heart, while you try to build your defenses to keep it out.

"I don't need either of you. We don't. I'm taking care of her. And she's great, she's perfect." It's not a lie. She is perfect. An angel. Your inquisitive, sweet, beautiful baby. Your little piece of perfection. You do everything for her, sacrifice everything, for her. She's your world, and your her's.

But being someone's world who needs you to survive is hard. It's really, really fucking hard. And doing it on your own is even harder. No one understands, what it's like, and you feel so weak, so stupid, so beat down every day that sometimes, it's too easy to close your eyes in the bathtub. It's too easy, to feel like you did after she was born, alone in your tiny flat, with a screaming newborn, and no one to help you. No one to call. It's too easy to wish for terrible things, especially when you know she would be taken care of. When you know her dads would keep her safe.

"She's beautiful, love." Johnny says, jolting you from your thoughts, and you can't help but nod in agreement.

"You've done so well." Simon murmurs and you slam your eyes shut. Don't. Don't listen to them.

"T-thank you." It comes out as a cry, tears you can't hold off anymore, and they both step closer, close enough that they're maybe two arms lengths away from where you stand. "No!" you croak, and Johnny covers his face with a palm, while Simon's face twists like he's in pain.

Seconds pass, and Bee still fusses in your arms, her body wriggling in your grasp, while Johnny takes long, deep breaths.

"Are you taking care of yourself?" he asks you softly, after he rubs his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Li...like I said. We're fine." You choke it out, and Simon shakes his head. Like he knows. Of course he does. They can see right through you. You have to get out of here. "We should go."

"No, wait." Simon tries to step closer, but Johnny grabs his wrist.

"At least, let us buy your groceries." Johnny tries, but you shake your head.

"No."

"Darling, please. Please." Simon latches onto your trolley, making it immobile in his grip, and you shake your head back and forth.

"She needs to go down for her nap." You grit out. You can feel your own tears on your cheeks, and you try to ignore it, try to ignore everything except for your mission. Escape.

"Can we... get your phone number, at least?" He tries.

"That's not a good idea." I have you blocked on everything so not sure what purpose it would serve, either.

"You still have ours, right? In case you need anything?" Johnny asks gently, and you nod.

"You can call us, any time. Day or night." Simon rushes out, like he's a bit frantic, stumbling over the words. He releases the trolley finally, and you pull it away immediately. "For anything. We'll be there." Bee cries, screams, lungs screeching and you pat her back.

"Okay, thanks." You don't say anything else before you turn, swinging around and beelining for check out, all while trying to remember to breathe and soothe your crying baby.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

#baby trap au #peaches asks #peaches writes #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader

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lost-and-ephemeral · 3 months

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Helloo><!!! I love your fics sm ueueue!!! I was wondering if it's okay with you to write about Zayne and Rafayel with a very childish Mc who loves a lot of cute stuffies!!! Mc is really bubbly and gets excited and happy over all the little things and just like Rafayel, they are a painter too:DD!!! except Mc doesn't get attention on their art which makes them sad... But overall, just a mostly bubbly and cuddly Mc on both if its okie><!! Tyyy!!!

HCs: Childish Beloved (Zayne, Rafayel)

Pairing: Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship

A/N: Thanks for your request, sweetheart! I'm also sorry it takes me a lot of time to write requests. So much work, so little time irl.

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´-

Zayne

You're the exact opposite of Zayne, but that's not a bad thing.

Opposites attract. It works the same way with him.

Zayne is pretty reserved and quiet, so he needs a bright person like you for the perfect balance.

Your babbly and childlike demeanor makes his heart melt with love.

Even on the coldest and gloomiest day, you are able to shine like the sun itself.

It's hard for him to show affection, so your cuddly personality completely overrides that little flaw.

Every time you hug him unexpectedly, Zayne's whole body tenses up at first and then slowly relaxes in your arms.

Just don't melt that Mr. Snowman completely.

Don't mind your babbling, unless he has some very urgent work to do. Don't be upset, it's just that sometimes Zayne has lots of important work to do and he can't make a mistake.

After hard day at work he will 100% fall asleep to the sound of your voice.

Always praising your art, even the smallest sketches.

If you do a little goofy sketch of him, he'll carry it in his wallet. Always. He just won't admit it openly.

But one day you'll find out anyway. Zayne will just chuckle at your happy reaction.

When you get excited about the little things, he just shakes his head and smiles.

He can't believe that such a sweet little being could love someone as cold as him.

He doesn't mind that you in love with every cute little thing you see. Because, well, you're cute too.

Sometimes he will unintentionally look for something you might really like.

He's literally spoiling you with plushies and sweets.

You have a special warm place in his heart.

Rafayel

Rafayel isn't bothered in the slightest by your personality or your behavior.

He is an expressive and bright person in his own way.

Just loves listening to your babbling while he's painting. You can talk about anything that comes into your head, Rafayel won't say anything against it.

You're really cuddly person? Great, he doesn't mind and actually loves this too. He's pretty affectionate himself.

But he still blushes every time you get him into your arms. Cutie.

Perhaps sometimes it is your warm embrace that was missing for him to so wanted inspiration for his latest painting.

And speaking of paintings, he's just in awe of the fact that you're an artist too.

He'll be sure to ask you to paint something together with him.

Don't be surprised if at one of his next exhibitions you'll see this painting, even with an indication of your co-authorship.

Rafayel thinks that you and your art deserve all the love and attention. And he can provide it.

He will tell everyone that his beloved is really talented.

With you he is even more playful than usual.

You're his little sunshine. He's happy when you're happy. So when you're excited over something small, he can't help but chuckle and smile.

Loves seeing you all joyful and excited, because your joy is contagious.

If you see a cute thing you like, you'll have it right away.

Even in all available colors and variations if you want so. Rafayel can afford it.

Won't stop until he gets all the toys you like out of the claw machine.

Just never ever leave him. Rafayel won't survive without you and your adorable personality.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader

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arcadian-litterateur · 4 months

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sick of kissing you in my head (when can it be real instead?) | modern au!gally x fem!reader

masterlist

summary: your boyfriend, gally, is across the country, and despite the struggles a long distance relationship can bring, your love is strong enough to carry you through the long distance season of your relationship. but spending your birthday without him is different than spending normal days separated, and you know deep down that nothing will make you happy on your birthday when he’s all you need.

word count: 8k holy—i really didn’t even realize how long this was till i checked the wc omg

warnings: emotional meltdown, mention of anxiety and anxiety meds, brief mention of panic attacks

a/n: hey guys! i love love love the song this is based off of: all i need (the distance song) by avery lynch. it's such a good song. this was supposed to just be fluff about visiting your bf gally, and then it turned into a whole thing lol. so yeah, i hope you guys enjoy this long ass one shot. i really really enjoyed writing it.

“𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦. 𝘪𝘧 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥. 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥.”

𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 onto my side, legs brushing against my sheets, I smile at the FaceTime call on my phone, but it's bittersweet. On the other end of the video call sits my boyfriend, the soft smile on his face mirroring my own. From where he sits, I can see the San Francisco skyline out his hotel window, highlighted by the rising sun.

“I miss you,” I mumble, studying the lines and contours of his face and wondering if they've changed since the last time I saw him in person. If I've missed any change; any detail while we've been separated. If anything has changed or tipped the balance since we've been apart.

I'm not insecure in my relationship with Gally, but be long distance for enough time and everyone gets in their head about it. Catches themselves wondering; doubting.

“I miss you more every time we have to part,” I add, watching the bitter take over the sweet in my boyfriend's eyes for a few seconds before he replies.

“I know, baby, I know.” His gaze wanders into the space between the atoms, his mind leaping forward into the future as he assures both me and himself, “Once my contract with WCKD Enterprises is up, I'll be able to move back to Denver. We'll be back in the same city.”

My smile is tired, only half there, and Gally knows it. It's been months since I've held him in my arms. This long distance routine is wearing us both out. We're both running out of steam—not for each other; not for our relationship, but for the complexity that being long distance has brought to our relationship. Conflicting schedules, spotty internet, the deprivation of physical contact with the person we crave it from the most…it's all beginning to pile up, and we both know it.

In an attempt to change the subject, I ask, “When is your flight back to Chicago again?” I already know, but I'm not sure what else to say, and besides, it's always good to check.

“Your birthday,” comes the cheeky reply, my eyes rolling of their own accord as I secretly admire the handsome grin on my boyfriend's face. But all too soon, his grin fades.

“I'm sorry I can't be there for your birthday,” he says gently. I wave him off, assuring him that I'll be just fine.

“Bren, Tes, and Sony are planning something. Won't tell me what, though.” I sigh before admitting, “It won't be the same without you. But your work's important.” Gally smiles gratefully, but there's cracks in the smile, and my stomach sinks. Guilt over my last comment settles in my digestive tract. “Sorry,” I mumble.

“No, no, don't apologize,’’ Gally says quickly. “You're allowed to be sad that I can't be there.” His amiable grin morphs into a scowl, “Tried to get Janson to give me the time off, I really did. But that rat wouldn't do it.” I give Gally what I hope is a reassuring smile.

“It's okay, babe.” We fall into silence, not necessarily comfortable, but not bad either, before Gally interjects,

“It'll be nice to be in my own apartment, though. I'm getting sick of all these Californian hotels. I'll be glad to be home, smog and noisy L-trains galore.” I chuckle, knowing that Gally loves Chicago because of its quirks, not in spite of them.

Still, Denver has always been home to me. But Gally and I've decided to cross that bridge when we get to it. We've got enough to think about as it is.

I'm trying to come up with another conversation topic, since I don't have work until later today, but unfortunately, Gally isn't so lucky. It’s the perks of working from home as a crisis hotline counselor, I guess. The hours aren’t as demanding, since the work itself is.

“Shoot, I have to go,” he hisses. “I'm sorry, princess. I'll call you tonight?” I nod, forcing myself to look forward to tonight's call, rather than be sad that this one is ending. “Alright, good that,” Gally grins. “I love you, babe!”

“I love you, Gal,” I smile and wave goodbye. The half-baked grin melts right off my face once he's hung up. Gosh, I miss him so much.

There's only so much comfort a video call can give.

Teresa calls me soon after Gally hangs up, blabbering on and on about a date she'd had with some guy named Ben, but I can't focus on her stories like I normally would. Usually, I'm all in to hear my friend's tales, but my mind is still fixated on the miles separating Gally and I. Something in me wonders how much longer we'll be able to go without holding each other. How much longer we can stand to be separated.

When we first started dating, I could have gone months, as long as we were still interacting. But as my love for Gally increased, the length of time I could stand to be without him decreased.

I'm fully, unashamedly in love with Gally now, and part of me wonders what I would do to be living in the same place as him. To be in his arms for good. The easy answer—the most raw answer—is anything. I'd do anything for him.

“(Y/N)?” Teresa's voice brings me out of my thoughts, her suspicious tone confirming that she's noticed my lack of focus today. “You weren't listening, were you?” To an outsider, her tone might sound harsh; reproachful, even, but I know her too well. She's not mad. Just annoyed she'll have to repeat her story if she wants me to hear it.

“I'm sorry,” I mumble, and it's sincere. I am sorry that I lost focus. But I don't apologize for pining after my faraway boyfriend. There's no reason to, for one, and two, I won't ever apologize for thinking of him. For missing him.

Teresa is grinning at my distracted tone, I can tell. Even through the phone, I can tell. “You're good. Dreaming about your bae, aren't you?”

I don't hesitate to admit, “Yes. I miss him more than I thought was even possible.” I hear Teresa's hum from the other end of the phone.

“You need to see him,” she declares. I scoff.

“Believe me, I know, and we're trying to figure out when he can next visit, but we're both just so busy.” Teresa clucks her tongue, the sound distorting oddly through the phone speaker. I imagine it running across the telephone poles, through the wires, twisting and bending and knotting out of shape as it flies all the way to me.

“I didn't mean like that, (Y/N). You need to go see him.” I chuckle, I wish I could.

“He's busy, Tes. Besides, he isn't even in Chicago right now,” I reason. This doesn't deter her.

“Well, when will he next be in Chicago?”

“His flight's on my birthday.”

“That's perfect!” Teresa squeals.

“How is that perfect?” I huff.

“You can fly out and spend your birthday with him! Surprise him!”

I actually laugh at this. “Um, no, I can't. I don't have the kind of money to just throw down for plane tickets. Besides, weren't you, Brenda, and Sonya planning something?”

“Well, yeah, but we could always change plans if we needed to,” Teresa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. On any other day, I would entertain this kind of silly daydreaming, but today, I already felt lonely enough.

“Sorry, Tes. Those spontaneous decisions are not my cup of tea,” I sigh, and I think she can tell I'm shutting the conversation down. She lets it go, and I thank her silently, forcing the ache in my heart left by Gally's absence to venture to the back of my mind. If I waste the day away, it'll be evening again, and then he'll call, just like he said.

And so despite the fact that I know wasting the days away is bad for me, I do it anyway. Just today, I tell myself. Just today.

Of course, I know I'll do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and all the hours in between my calls with Gally. It's ridiculous, how they all say having space helps one think clearer, when having space just distracts me by making me miss him that much more.

When he's gone, I'm reminded that much more that he's all I need.

_______________________________

𝗜𝗧’𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 p.m. by the time Gally calls, his eyes lighting up when he sees me despite the exhausted, burnt out look on his face. I'm equally as ecstatic as he is to revel in the gaze of my lover, both of us simply brushing every inch of each other's faces with our eyes, memorizing each other for the millionth time. It won't be the last time, either. I could never get tired of scanning my gaze across his skin, memorizing every inch of his beautiful face.

In our current situation, it's the closest I can get to kissing every inch of his beautiful face.

Gally is the first to break the silence, and I'm okay with it. He's the one who's had a long day. He knows what he needs to talk or not talk about. I just love hearing his voice.

“How was your day, baby?” he asks, a tired sort of happiness seeping into his voice. Like I'm giving him some kind of rest just by smiling at him.

“It was good. Uneventful.” I shrug, knowing that I'd barely moved from the chair I occupied now. “The real question is, how was your day, my love?”

Gally grins at the pet name. He always does. It's the same reaction that I have whenever he uses terms of endearment on me. It's our own personal love language of sorts. How many different ways can I call you mine?

“My day was okay,” Gally says quietly, sighing when he sees the look on my face. The one that tells him to lay it on me; rant if it'll make him sleep better tonight. “Well, it was…mediocre,” he amends, running a hand through his short hair. “Tim was being an ass. As always.” I nod sympathetically, understanding the deep hatred he harbors for his coworker.

Why Gally doesn't like Tim, I'm not exactly sure, but I know it has something to do with taking credit for a project that Gally did all the work on. It resulted in a harsh lecture from their boss for Gally, who was presumed to have slacked off, and a promotion for Tim.

Anyone who knows Gally knows that he would never slack off. He takes duty and work seriously; more seriously than anyone else I've met, in fact. I know my boy. He wouldn't hurt his company's productivity, even if his boss is an asshole like Janson.

“I'm sorry Tim was giving you trouble, baby,” I croon, watching the aches and tension of the day seeping out of his stiff shoulders at the sound of my voice. His smile weaves its way back onto his face. It's a soft, vulnerable smile, the one that makes me want to take him in my arms and just hold him like the precious treasure he is.

“I wish I could hug you,” Gally groans, rubbing his chin with his fingers before trying to regain his composure. “Sorry…I don't mean to bring everything up again. I just…I just miss you.” My comforting smile wobbles, knowing that those same thoughts are eating away at me inside, but I bring the happy thoughts back to the surface and my grin rights itself.

“Soon, love, soon,” I murmur, knowing I can't truly promise anything with how busy our lives have become. But soon doesn't have a time slot or expiration date. I can promise soon and define it later. All I know is that it brings a smile to my boy's face, and that's what I need right now.

We spend the rest of the night talking, lifted by the promise of Soon, love, soon, knowing that it could very well mean a long, long time.

_______________________________

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗦 in my bedroom window, blinding me when my eyes flicker open. But once I blink away the black spots in my vision, I see that the sunlight isn't the only reason I was pulled from the comforting arms of sleep.

Brenda, Teresa, and Sonya are standing at my bedside, my sheets in a bunched up ball in Sonya's hands. I groan, trying to roll away, but Bren, ever the fearless one, grabs my shoulder and pulls me back to face them.

“Get up, (Y/N). No spending the day moping,” she orders. I heave out an exaggerated sigh, making my body intentionally limp as Brenda and Teresa each grab one of my arms, pulling me upright until I have to support my own weight.

“Sometimes I really regret giving you guys my apartment passcode,” I comment, leading Sonya to pinch my arm. I yelp, rubbing the red mark as I get manhandled out of my pajamas and into a new outfit by my best friends. “What—what are you crazies doing?” I splutter, quickly taking the pair of jeans from Teresa's hands before she can try to shove them on my legs, opting to put them on myself.

“We aren't letting you mope around until Gally visits. Who knows how long that would be? It's not healthy,” Sonya explains, linking an arm through mine as the three girls drag me to the bathroom. Brenda shoves my toothpaste-loaded toothbrush into my hand as Tes starts pulling my hair brush through my hair.

“Ow,” I complain around a mouthful of toothpaste suds, pulling away from Teresa's assault on my tender scalp momentarily to spit. She and Sonya make quick work of my slightly frizzy hair, tag teaming it to create a fun yet elegant braid.

“Beautiful,” Sonya sighs, leaning back to admire her handiwork. Brenda, on the other hand, seems to have some kind of mental checklist, full of all the tasks she must see me complete.

“Breakfast is next,” she commands, and I find myself being pulled into my kitchen, watching helplessly as my friends dive into making us a scrumptious, sugary feast.

I have to admit, the fluffy blueberry pancakes filling my stomach certainly make venturing out into the world much easier than I expected. I only feel the need to text Gally three times before leaving my apartment with my friends, rather than the usual five to ten. Whether these texts are to let him know I'm fine or to make sure he's fine, I've never been able to figure out. Maybe they're both. Either way, it's a good thing Brenda shoved my meds into my hand before breakfast.

When I'm here alone, I don't take them. Sometimes I skip them on purpose, sometimes I just forget. But either way, I don't take my anxiety meds unless Brenda is there to shove them down my throat. Thinking about it, I'm grateful she's here to force me to take them today. With all of these mixed up feelings about being separated from Gally for so long, having more control over my anxiety will be good.

A day shopping with my best friends is a good distraction from the painful loneliness I've been feeling without Gally. It's not exactly a cure, but it's close. My friends know this; know their own limitations, and so they do the best they can.

And I'm so grateful that they've put in the time. Put in the effort. All for me.

“Thank you,” I whisper to them as we sit in our favorite coffee shop, sipping oat milk lattes.

“Of course,” Brenda immediately responds.

“We love you,” Sonya adds.

“We know we aren't your boy,” Teresa chimes in, “but we're your best friends, and that means we stick by you. No matter what.” She leans over to rub my arm. “When you're down, I'm down. We wanted to help pick you back up.”

The smile on my face is genuine for the first time in a long time, knowing that my friends love me enough to support me despite having the knowledge that they can't give me everything I need. They give what they can, and accept me when it doesn't fix everything.

I haven't always had friends this good, and I look up at the sky, thanking the heavens that I've been blessed with such good friends now.

_______________________________

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦 before my birthday, I can’t get Teresa’s half-joking, hare-brained idea out of my head. Realistically, I know that the likelihood that I could find a flight on my birthday to Chicago that isn’t full (or way too expensive) is slim. Realistically, I know that I don’t have the money for plane tickets right now. Realistically, I know that flying halfway across the country on a whim to see my boyfriend is ridiculous.

But when Gally sends me his flight information, knowing I like to watch his progress and get confirmation when he lands safely, I find myself checking flights from Denver to Chicago, telling myself it’s just out of curiosity. Because what if there is a flight to Denver from Chicago on my birthday? What if there is a possibility that I could see Gally on my birthday? What if there is a chance that I could have this gift; the only one I truly want?

If there’s even a chance to see Gally on my birthday, I want to know.

Gally’s flight information is pulled up on my phone, which is next to me on my desk as I scroll through flights on my laptop. My right thumbnail is between my teeth, bitten down to the quick and then some. It seems that flying is a popular travel option right now, as flights are filled even into places like Dawson County, Montana. Every flight I find from Denver to Chicago is either full or too expensive for someone just out of college, like me. The cheapest is $374, and I know rationally that blowing through that much money would be devastating for my finances.

I swear under my breath, angry at myself for even getting my hopes up. It was a stupid idea to check the flights, and I find myself wishing I could go back in time to stop myself from looking. The disappointment grows even larger knowing that there would be a way to get to him if I wasn’t a broke post-college student making minimum wage in the Mile-High City. Then the disappointment and anger melt away, leaving me with a heart wrenching sadness that feels so empty and yet so all-consuming that I can’t help but break down into tears.

I don’t want to let myself cry about a silly daydream that was unlikely to happen anyway, but I’d let myself entertain the thought of seeing Gally soon; of holding him close and kissing him until we couldn’t breathe, and now everything else seemed pale in comparison. It wasn’t that my life had no purpose outside of him—I’d made it very clear when we started dating that the two of us needed to make sure we had lives outside of our relationship, too. But Gally had become a part of me; my favorite part of me, in fact. I was perfectly happy with the life I had, but Gally made it even sweeter. And knowing that sweetness was mine but was inaccessible made the absence of it even more palpable. Even more unbearable.

Crumpled into a heap on my floor with tears slowly leaking from my eyes is how Teresa finds me when she opens my door fifteen minutes later. “Hey, girl—” she calls before seeing me, rushing to my side with a worried, “Oh, my gosh, what’s wrong, (Y/N)?” I just shake my head, the waterworks turning back up to full blast.

“I miss him so much,” I sob as she gathers me in her arms, unable to care that I sound pathetic.

“Oh, I know, darling, I know,” Teresa coos, rocking back and forth with my shaking body, whispering comforting words into my ears just like she always does when I get so worked up. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, hand flying up to wipe the snot from my nose, but of course, the minute it’s gone, more replaces it. I’m past the point of an easy calm-down, instead finding myself close to the edge of hyperventilating. Thankfully, Teresa isn’t a stranger to my emotional meltdowns, and she isn’t afraid of them, either. Instead, she’s the kind of friend who will take my hand and guide me through it.

“Did you take your meds this morning?” she asks cautiously, to which I shake my head in embarrassment. Tears are still pooling in the corners of my eyes as I manage to get out,

“I’m sorry.”

Teresa just shushes me calmly. “Don’t apologize. It’s in the past now. I just wanted to know.” I nod shakily, the soothing pressure of her hand rubbing my arm helping me steady my breaths slightly. “What set you off?” she queries, squeezing me a bit tighter when the tears speed up again.

“I—I decided to check the flights for my birthday,” I answer, sniffling as my best friend strokes my hair lovingly. “It was stupid, because it just made me upset. They’re all too expensive, and I knew they would be, and it just made me miss him so much more.” Admitting it out loud makes me feel even dumber, the guilt creeping into my stomach. “I did this to myself,” I mumble. Subconsciously, my nails find their way to my arms, digging into the delicate skin and leaving pink crescents behind. Teresa pulls my hands away from my arms quickly.

“Stop blaming yourself. You did nothing wrong. I would’ve done the same, (Y/N).” I know she’s trying to comfort me, but I just squeeze my eyes shut.

“Yeah, and it wouldn’t have caused you to end up on the floor like a pathetic child.”

“(Y/N)! Stop!” Teresa scolds me. “Stop with the negative self-talk.” I try to protest, but she fixes me with that no-nonsense look that can get anyone to agree to anything, and I find myself nodding meekly. “None of this is your fault. You’re in a difficult situation, being separated from your boyfriend, and your heart isn’t sure how to handle it. That’s okay. You don’t have to know how to handle it perfectly yet.” I sigh, leaning into my best friend’s shoulder, feeling slightly calmer now. She always knows the right words to say when I’m in too deep to think straight.

Teresa coaxes me into the kitchen to drink hot chocolate once my breathing has steadied somewhat. She’s looking at me with an odd look that I can’t quite place, as if she’s…proud of me?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask warily over the top of my steaming mug. My best friend grins, staring at me for a couple more seconds before replying,

“You’re just, like, the strongest person I know.” My face turns what I assume is beet red at the compliment, not expecting such high praise from the woman who just held me in her arms as I sobbed like a baby. But then again, Teresa is special. She doesn’t judge based on outward appearances or impressions. She can see right into the heart of people, as if she can sense their goodness; their potential, and then she nudges them down that path. Helping them choose the sunshine. The good side. The light.

Knowing her compliment is slightly overwhelming, Teresa shrugs and changes the subject so fast I think I get whiplash. “You should call Gally,” she suggests. “Tell him that you were missing him and ask him for some love.” I cringe, turning away from her.

“I don’t want to make him feel bad that he isn’t here. I think I’ve already done that too much this week.”

Teresa scoffs, “That’s nonsense. He’ll be happy that you reached out to him after your meltdown. He’ll be touched that you wanted to let him know how you’re doing. He’ll feel honored that you’re willing to be vulnerable with him.” I know deep down that she’s right; that the only thing he’d do is make me feel better. Never after calling Gally do I feel worse. I know I’m just scared to hurt him, but he always assures me that I don’t need to harbor that fear. I don’t need to hold onto that anxious voice in my head that whispers, You don’t deserve him.

I can even imagine him next to me if I try hard enough, murmuring, “You’re perfect, baby,” when I grow insecure. Whispering, “I’m so lucky to have you” in my ear when I doubt myself.

“Okay,” I agree, letting Teresa take my phone and FaceTime him. Despite the fact that it’s the middle of the work day, Gally picks up on the first ring, a concerned look decorating his handsome face.

“Teresa? Wha—”

“She’s fine!” Teresa rushes to assure him, motioning for me to join her on the couch. I pop my head into the frame, wincing as I see how swollen and puffy my face is. Gally’s forehead immediately creases upon seeing me, obviously still worried when he sees the tear stains on my cheeks.

“Babe, are you okay?” he asks. Teresa silently asks if I want to take the phone, but I shake my head. My hands are still slightly shaky, and holding the phone is an added stressor. Teresa understands and angles the phone towards me.

“Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry,” I whisper, my boyfriend’s shoulders relaxing only slightly. “I just had a bit of a meltdown. Teresa found me and helped me calm down.” Gally’s eyebrows soften, his mouth tilting down in a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “What happened?”

“I just miss you,” I mumble sheepishly after a second’s pause. It seems kind of silly once I admit it out loud, and I start to duck my face away when Gally gets my attention.

“Hey, (Y/N), (Y/N),” he says, waiting until I’ve turned back to him before continuing, “You don’t need to feel embarrassed. I miss you, too, okay? I miss you so much. You don’t need to feel ashamed for struggling.” He waits for me to respond, and I nod slightly. Truth be told, just hearing his voice has made me feel better; stronger. There’s something about his comforting, strong tone that soothes me. Just his voice can make me truly believe in myself. I swear, this man could make me believe anything as long as he says it aloud.

“Thank you for picking up,” I smile, finding my mood lightening as a grin finds its way back onto his face. “Seeing you helped.” Gally blushes slightly, rubbing a hand along his chin.

“I’m glad I could help, baby.” Offscreen, someone gruffly commands him to get back to work, and he mutters an apology before turning back to the screen. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. But call me if you need anything, okay?” I nod, trailing my eyes over his freckles one more time as he thanks Teresa for taking care of me and then hangs up.

“It helped?” she asks, as if double-checking to make sure I truly am feeling better.

“Yeah,” I grin sheepishly. “You know what you’re talking about.” With a roll of my eyes, I joke, “You should be a counselor for a living. At this rate, you’re better than me at my own job!” Teresa just laughs.

“Well, now that you’ve cracked a joke, I know you’re feeling better.” She pulls me into a hug, and I gladly return it, silently wondering how I got blessed with such an amazing best friend.

“Hey, I’m here for you,” she reminds me one more time as she leaves, her meticulous check-ins a promise for the next few days.

“I know,” I assure her. “I promise I’ll call if I need to.”

“Good,” she says, smiling as she waves. “I love you, babes!”

“I love you, too, Tes!” Feeling a bit lighter, I wave back as I close my front door.

_______________________________

“𝗜 𝗖𝗔𝗡’𝗧—I can’t take this,” I stutter the next day, wide-eyed at the wad of cash Teresa is currently shoving into my hands. Brenda and Sonya are flanking her on either side with looks that imply they’re attempting to telepathically convince me to take the money.

“Yes, you can,” Teresa sighs exasperatedly. “Like I already told you, it’s the money we were going to spend on your celebration pooled together. But we all know you’d rather spend your birthday with Gally, and we want you to be able to, so we’re giving you the money for that plane ticket you couldn’t afford. It would be a waste to throw you a party you don’t want to be at. Helping you see your boyfriend is a much better use of that money. We all agreed.” Brenda and Sonya both nod, Teresa shoving the cash even further into my palms. I take it shakily, counting silently as I gape at them. “But—but this is nine hundred bucks! I can’t—I can’t take this, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry!” Brenda sighs. “Just take the money! It’s our birthday present for you!” I look back and forth between my three best friends, realizing that there is no way they’re letting me reject the money. But it feels so weird having this many fifties weighing heavily in my grasp.

“Please take it,” Sonya says softly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We want you to be able to go see Gally. We want you to enjoy this birthday. You’ll be giving a gift to us by making this impulsive choice to do what makes you happy.” My resistance gets melted away by her words, knowing that this was their tactic all along. Get (Y/N) all toughened up to the ‘just take it’ ruse and then let Sonya slip under her defenses when she least expects it. But I’m not annoyed by it. Instead, I let Teresa close my fist over the cash.

Immediately, the three start cheering, but before I can even blink, they’ve moved on from celebrating and are pushing me towards my laptop where, just as I’m sure Teresa suspected, the flights from Denver to Chicago are still pulled up. Teresa obviously asked Gally to share his flight information with her, because she seems to have it memorized as she scans the flights.

“Alright, here’s the best one,” she announces after a few minutes of looking. “United, nonstop, leaving at 9:30 a.m. MT and arriving at 12:56 p.m. CT. It’s in the same terminal as Gally’s flight, and he lands at 2:23 p.m. CT, so that gives you a little over an hour to get to his gate and wait for him. Sounds good?” I nod wordlessly, still slightly in shock over the way my best friends have handled this so nonchalantly, as if their friend flying across the country on a day’s notice is just a normal part of their lives.

Sonya pulls me towards my room as Brenda takes the stack of cash back from me, mumbling that Teresa insisted they have it for show but was just planning on Venmoing the cash to me. I laugh at our friend’s antics before following an impatient Sonya, who grabs my suitcase from my closet and starts making a list of what I should pack.

“We’re not buying you a return flight,” she explains, “because we didn’t know how long you’d want to stay, and we figured you didn’t know either. Just bring your work stuff and you can work from Gally’s apartment, and use the rest of the money to buy a return ticket when you decide to come back.” I shake my head in awe at the schemes of my friends, who have obviously thought of every single anxiety I could have because of this plan and have set out to refute them.

With Sonya helping me pack, a task that would usually take me at least three hours, two cups of coffee, and a panic attack is done in under one hour, no coffee or panic attacks in sight. While I wouldn’t have minded the coffee, the no panic attack part is nice, and I decide I can live without those two cups of coffee if it means my peace of mind is intact.

And the next morning when Teresa drops me off at the airport, my medicine taken and an ample breakfast eaten, the nervous butterflies in my stomach don’t feel scary. In fact, they feel almost…exciting. And I feel crazy for doing this; for flying halfway across the country to surprise my boyfriend so I can kiss him on my birthday, but I also feel so alive.

And today, the idea of living doesn’t seem as scary anymore.

_______________________________

𝗔𝗦 𝗜 wait at my gate and sip my Starbucks latte, I answer the countless birthday texts I have already received, smiling at the overflow of love from people I talk to everyday and people I barely even know. It’s funny, knowing that there are people out there who remember my birthday but don’t talk to me otherwise. Some might feel disheartened at the idea, but I just giggle quietly to myself, wondering if I’m going crazy for feeling so lighthearted.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline, I think to myself. The adrenaline from doing something so stupid and yet so exciting. Shrugging to myself, I take another large gulp of coffee, finally getting to the text from Gally. I saved it for last, knowing it would be the best one. And sure enough, as I read the message, I feel happy tears pricking my eyes. As always, he’s sweet; sappy, even, but his message also holds the serious intensity that he always has around him. It’s like an aura, telling those around him that he does everything fully and completely, never giving only half of his effort. That intensity is probably why I love reading texts from him over and over. Even if it’s a simple good morning, his texts always seem to scream I love you from between the lines.

I text Gally back, thanking him for the love he’s sent zipping along telephone lines, across the country and all the way to me. I suck the last dregs of liquid from my Starbucks cup, finally accepting that the beverage is gone as the gate attendant calls for Boarding Group 1. I find myself bouncing from foot to foot, realizing once again that I’m really doing this. I can’t bring myself to sit down as I wait for my group to be called, instead standing by the gate’s charging station, fidgeting like I’m about to run the 100 meter dash. By the time I’m boarding, I’m breathing heavily like I just sprinted up Pikes Peak. Whether from nerves or excitement, I can’t really tell, but it’s enough that the flight attendant touches my arm as she checks the cabin.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” I look up in surprise before giving her a quick grin.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just nervous.”

She smiles empathetically. “Is it your first time flying?”

“No. I’m flying out to surprise my boyfriend, and I guess I’m just hoping it all works out like I planned,” I explain.

At this, I receive an even bigger grin from the flight attendant, who thinks that is just—“the most adorable thing ever!” I nod along, unsure whether I’m actually smiling or just masking my anxiety. Either one is a plausible explanation, and I’m pumped so full of adrenaline that all of my emotions currently feel interchangeable.

I spend the entirety of take-off nervously fiddling with the little screen in front of me, trying to distract myself. Once we’re at a constant altitude, the flight attendants offer drinks, and I ask for a ginger ale, my go-to drink on airplanes. It calms me down, the comforting security of it helping me stay rational. Unfortunately, the ginger ale combined with my anxious thoughts cause my bladder to reach its limit quite quickly.

I hate the little bathrooms on airplanes. So loud, so claustrophobic, so turbulent. It’s like trying to pee while in the middle of an earthquake. But my bladder isn’t playing games today, and the last thing I want to do is ignore it and then pee myself. The intrusive thoughts fight to take over as I rush through the motions, washing my hands as quickly as possible, but I stave them off and make it back to my seat in one piece.

The remaining hour until landing is the longest hour of my life.

When we finally touch down and taxi to our gate, all of the tension that has built up inside me feels ready to explode, but I hold it in, knowing that I can let it all out once I see Gally. It’s barely even occurred to me that I’m a year older now—that it’s my birthday—because all I can think about is getting to hold my boy.

I almost trip getting off the plane, too busy checking his flight’s progress and landing gate. His flight is still an hour and thirty minutes out, giving me more than enough time to go to the bathroom, get some food, and wait for him. I pull my suitcase behind me, so glad I decided to take everything in my carry-on, as I’m now realizing that baggage claim is outside the secure area of the airport. I break free from the flow of traffic heading in that direction, redirecting towards the bathroom.

One bathroom trip, makeup refresher, and food court scavenger hunt later, I’m standing against a column at Gally’s gate, drinking my second Starbucks latte of the day. Normally, I wouldn’t let myself indulge like this, but it’s my birthday, so I feel justified. I even treat myself to a slice of sweet bread, too. I’m too anxious to eat a full lunch. Besides, I’m sure Gally will be happy to get lunch on our way back to his apartment. He’s always willing to eat, no matter the time of day.

I’m trying my best not to look suspicious. There’s a flight leaving from this gate after Gally’s flight arrives, so I blend in, but my leg is bouncing nervously and my hands are shaking slightly. I’m a naturally energetic person, but the fidgeting increases exponentially when I’m either excited or nervous. Right now, I’m both.

Thankfully, no one seems to notice me or think I’m behaving weirdly. I’m simply overthinking, like I often do. At least it passes the time. I only have thirty minutes left to wait.

I run back to Starbucks and buy another latte. It’s gone within ten minutes, my anxious energy prompting me to gulp it down like I’m dying of thirst. Then I’m running to the bathroom again, bladder shouting angrily at me for the caffeine abuse I’ve been subjecting it to. It’s unpleasant, but it kills more time.

Ten minutes to go. I’m staring at my phone, Gally’s flight details pulled up, reloading the page over and over in hopes that magically, they’ll teleport and be here instantly. With anyone else, I wouldn’t be this obsessive; impatient, but it’s Gally. I could obsess over Gally for days on end with all the love overflowing from my heart. So I pass three minutes refreshing the page persistently, watching the minutes countdown.

I let out a quiet, barely there gasp when my phone screen tells me he’s landed. I can barely contain my excitement, nervous energy causing me to wiggle my hips like a rhythmically challenged dancer. His plane is on the ground, taxiing over, right to where I’m waiting. He’s going to walk through that gate, and I’m going to see his beautiful face, and I’m going to run and jump into my boyfriend’s arms.

All of a sudden, doubt crashes into me like a fucking tidal wave. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if this is weird, and he’s going to be all awkward about it? What if this was one huge fuck-up? I can feel myself starting to spiral, starting to lose touch with the confidence I’ve been channeling all day. The panic has started to grow, and it surges through my veins, reaching to the tip-top of the cliff that is followed by a plunge off the deep end. Thankfully, though, with only a few minutes to spare before my boyfriend gets off his plane, a little girl in a princess dress bumps into me, hard, causing my knees to buckle and my head to snap out of the spiral it’s in.

I catch myself against the trusty column I’m leaning against, looking down to find a young girl, maybe six, wearing an Elena of Avalor dress-up costume with a stuffed animal that looks like some kind of leopard with bird wings.

“Amity!” her mother scolds her, ordering her to apologize for bumping into me. Amity looks up at me with big, brown doe eyes and a huge, genuine grin.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” she chirps. I smile back, making eye contact with her mom, before crouching down to her level and holding out a hand to shake.

“I forgive you. I’m (Y/N). Want to know something?” Amity shakes my hand, grinning widely, before looking at her mom as if to make sure it’s okay to talk to me. Her mom gives a gentle nod, a kindness in her eyes as they meet mine. “Well, Amity, you actually helped me just now. I was feeling super duper nervous and it was making me get shaky and worried. But then you bumped into me, and I saw your smile, and it made me feel a lot better!”

I can tell Amity’s mother is touched, and I make sure to assure her that I’m doing better. That Amity’s little scuffle with my legs was truly helpful. And then Amity and her mom are on their way, Amity’s tight hug and whisper of “You look like a princess” giving me the last boost of confidence I need.

Right as I finish waving goodbye to the adorable little girl, I hear the sounds of passengers starting to come down the jetway. I suck in a sharp breath, making sure my small suitcase and jacket are safe by the column before stepping closer to the junction between gate and jetway, watching passengers closely as they start to trickle into the airport.

It’s no surprise that I can pick Gally out of the crowd immediately after he walks out of the jetway, his head easily peeking over every other passenger. He doesn’t see me at first, focused on trying not to trample the small toddler whose family is trying desperately to get him to behave as they walk in front of my boyfriend.

I wait until he’s right there, just the toddler’s family in front of him, to call his name. “Gally!” His head snaps up, eyes scanning the surrounding area before settling on me, his jaw going slack, falling open in surprise as the toddler’s family quickly moves out of the way.

It’s like we’re living in slow motion, the way I watch Gally’s backpack slide out of his hand and hit the floor with a thump, his look of shock morphing into a state of joyous disbelief, as if he’s not sure he’s truly seeing me. He looks frozen in this state, unable to move towards me, but I don’t care. I’m already running up to him, happy tears gathering in my eyes as I jump into Gally’s arms, my head burying itself in his neck before I lean up to kiss him with all the pent-up love, tension, and nerves that have been coursing through my body all day.

His lips are warm just like they always are, soft and full and inviting as we kiss passionately; shamelessly, right in front of everyone waiting to board their flight. I can’t bring myself to care, anxiety nowhere to be found now that I’m here. In his arms. Held tightly, kept safe, flooded with warmth, just like I’m supposed to be.

He pulls away first, still in shock as he scans my face, as if expecting to find some imperfection that reveals me as a doppelganger. “Baby—” he chokes out, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes, my own tears rolling down my cheeks. “Baby, you’re here.” He lets out a giddy, confused laugh, cupping my cheek with his hand as he wipes the remnant saltwater away with his thumb.

“You’re—you’re here. In Chicago,” he repeats, putting my feet back on the floor so I can stand there with my arms around his neck, his other hand coming up to cup my other cheek. “You’re—it’s your birthday!” he says, and I can’t tell if it’s another reason he’s confused I’m here, or if it’s just an observation. Well, probably both, so I just giggle.

“Yes, Gally, it’s my birthday.”

“But—did you—when did you get here?” he asked, bewildered, a lovestruck, excited smile lighting up his whole face. I run my hands through his hair, admiring his gentleness as he cradles my face in his palms.

“An hour and a half ago, I think. I’m not sure the exact timing,” I shrug. He gasps.

“You flew on your birthday?” I give him an odd look.

“Yes…why? Is that illegal or something?” Gally chuckles through the joy-filled tears still drifting down his face every once in a while.

“No, baby. I just thought—most people wouldn’t be willing to fly or even be at an airport on their birthdays. Don’t you have cool stuff to do? Fun people to see?” I shake my head, pulling him as close as I can, our lips hovering inches apart.

“You’re the only person I wanted to see. This is my birthday present.”

Gally’s eyes water even more as he presses his forehead to mine, running his hands through my hair. “Baby, I—” He pulls away to wipe a tear from his eye and then leans back down, pressing a gentle peck to my forehead, “I love you so much.”

“I love you even more, Gally,” I whisper back, staring into his teary eyes with my watery own. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not possible.”

“It is, too,” I giggle, still whispering as I press a kiss to his lips, “and I’m the birthday girl, so you have to let me win the arguments today.”

“Oh, that’s how that works,” Gally laughed, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Well, I suppose I can let you win this one, since you did fly all the way to Chicago on your birthday.”

“Oh, but that was selfish,” I smiled. “I wanted to see you. I needed to see you. It was purely selfish.” Gally just hugged me tighter, pressing kisses to the top of my hair as he admitted quietly,

“Well, I needed to see you, too. I needed to have you in my arms.” I relax into the warmth of my boyfriend’s chest, the material of his hoodie tickling my nose. I endure it because it smells like him, and that makes it the most calming aroma in the world.

“Being in your arms is all I need. You are all I need,” I whisper.

I kiss him again, a loving, sweet kiss, reveling in the presence and taste of my boyfriend, a sense of peace and safety wrapping its warm arms around me.

Nothing else matters in this moment. Not my job, or my life in Denver, or my birthday. All that matters is that I am here, in my boyfriend’s arms. In Gally’s arms.

Right where I’m supposed to be.

the end

106 notes · View notes

miharuki · 3 months

Note

hello!! thank you for making second part of Luka fanfic!!!

may i request Luka x reader is Marinette's sister(just hear me out. they are exes. it's probably weird to date your sister's ex but it's only a fanfiction so I'm trying not to think to deeply about). i hope you don't mind. feel free to ignore my request!!!

(i think it will work greatly if reader was opposite of marinette for "balance" but everything is up to you)

It took me a long time to find the story, but I finally found my Google Documents account, I have a lot, don't question it, anyway, now I found your message and I'm posting the story, sorry if it's a little bad, I'm still going to do a part 2 hehe, sorry again, and sorry for my bad english

(fluff, Reader is oblivious to Luka's passion, End of relationship , 4 temp de miraculos spoiler, ep true, crocoduel, e dear family, reader doesn't know that marinette is ladybug

Adrien and Marinette know about Luka's passion )

𝕷𝖚𝖐𝖆 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖋𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖃 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗!𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗

"It was not long ago when your sister confessed that she was moving on, you were so proud. It had been a while since you heard from your sister how perfect your friend Adrien Agreste was, it seemed more like an obsession than a crush, but knowing your sister's traumas you put it on the same level as a crush, as it was a childish crush. Being a year older than your sister, you always try to set an example, and often Marinette asks for advice on relationships, which you may have some knowledge about due to your past relationships, but you are still proud even with Marinette's decisions, after all, she is growing up, she is becoming mature."

If she didn't keep holding onto her secrets, it was getting weirder. Your sister would stay up late into the night, some days with dark circles under her eyes, and you had to help cover them with makeup because she didn't want to worry her friends. You still believed she needed to sleep and relax; it was starting to cause problems. Her relationship with her friends was in conflict along with her relationship with Luka. Not only that, but she seemed to be hiding things from everyone, like a ticking time bomb.

It was not long ago that you entered Marinette's room, pulled her onto the couch, and gently asked her to relax.

"You're keeping things to yourself. You're keeping them as if you're protecting others, but you're actually hurting yourself!" It was at that moment that Marinette had a realization of what was happening. Marinette looked at you, at your sad and worried eyes.

"I'm sorry!" she cried out as she hugged you, and you hugged her back. "It's just that everything is suffocating me. I have to be class president and a friend to my friends, but I just can't handle this responsibility. I still like Adrien even though I'm with Luka, and I feel guilty because everyone believes in me! I can't tell them how I feel! I'm just a pathetic girl!" As you ran your hand over her back, you watched your sister cry on your shoulder. You hugged her and comforted her about it.

"Everyone has secrets, Marinette. It's okay to keep them, but sometimes you have to trust people more. You think everyone is depending on you because you believe in yourself!" Taking Marinette's hands, you looked into her eyes. "You have to know that you're not alone! You need to let people help you. Doing things alone isn't helping you; it's hurting you! As your older sister, I'm trying my best to make you okay, but I can't do it alone. I need you to help me make you happy too! Even if it means letting go of some things! You know, go with the flow." Marinette knew on that day what she had to do. Even though she kept secrets from you, even though you were the one she could turn to for help, you were there for her. She still didn't want to put you at risk, even if it meant revealing her true work.

Marinette began to admire you more. You were right, and Marinette realized that. It was on that day that she decided to end her relationship. Of course, you understood and stood by her side at that moment. You still think what she's doing is okay if it means she can be happy. You also understood Luka's side, even why he was there that day. You said it was okay to let things go; sometimes relationships don't work out, but that's okay. Not everything is perfect. And just like that day, Luka finally understood why Marinette always talked about you, why she admired you. And just like Marinette, Luka started to admire you too from that day on.

It was amazing how you always knew what to say about other people's emotions and relationships, as if you were a counselor, and some might even say you were a kind of cupid. You began to notice various posters and billboards of Ladybug and Chat Noir together, naming them the new couple of Paris. Although you were happy, your gut feeling told you something was wrong. This was when you heard Marinette shout from her room that Ladybug and Chat Noir weren't a couple. Not understanding, you just shrugged as you prepared to deliver the orders from your family bakery. You waved as you put on your helmet, leaving with music in your ears as you passed people, waving to them in greeting on a good day.

Passing through a park as a shortcut, you saw Adrien a few meters away, sitting on a bench crying. It broke your heart. One thing you were used to was hearing and seeing Marinette talk about how cool Adrien was, and having known him too, it was a strange situation to see the boy crying in a public place. With determination, you stopped your bike and left it in the corner, approaching the boy. You called out to him.

"Adrien? Are you okay?" Upon hearing your voice, the boy raised his head, quickly wiping his tears.

"Oh, hi (name)." The boy continued to look down. You put your hand on his shoulder, sitting next to him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask, and the boy seems to struggle to contain himself.

"It's okay if you can't," you rub the boy's back, watching him calm down and lift his head to look at the Ladybug and Chat Noir poster.

"Hypothetically, if I've liked someone my whole life only to always be rejected, and then when I think we're okay, she confirms with words that she doesn't want me, and then I realize that maybe she doesn't even want me by her side anymore, and states that we're just partners, what do I do?"

You've heard this question somewhere before, almost similar, but you prefer to set it aside. You put your hand on the boy's shoulder, looking into his eyes.

"You know, hypothetically if that happened, what I recommend is that you let things go," observing the boy become confused, you continue, "let's just say maybe you should look for someone else. If that person didn't want to see you as a romantic partner, then maybe you should leave it like that. Sometimes moving on is better; maybe then you won't keep hurting yourself."

The boy wipes away his tears as he looks at you, smiling. You ruffle the boy's hair.

"I think I understand now, I know why Marinette and Luka like you, especially Luka," a question mark lingers in your head, but again, you prefer to leave things as they are, in the perfect balance.

"Thank you so much, (name), you've helped me a lot!" You smile at the boy as you stand up and bid him farewell. He's now looking at the sky, and you hop onto your bike, putting on your helmet. You wonder what Adrien meant, but you shrug it off as you ride away, heading home after the deliveries. You take off your helmet and put it away, shaking out your hair as you enter the bakery.

"Mom, I finished the deliveries - oh hi, Luka," you greet the boy as he picks up a package. "How's your family?" you ask, remembering the last time you saw them during Luka's mother's akumatization.

"They're fine, thank you. Were you delivering the orders?" the boy asks, turning to look at you.

"Yeah, it was just a few, so it was pretty quick."

The boy looks down at the treat in his hand, taking a deep breath before speaking again.

"You know, (name), I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go out sometime."

"Sounds good to me, we'll set a day, okay? Bye, Luka," you said as you began walking back into the bakery.

"Alright! Bye, (name)!" he replied quickly as he watched you enter the bakery, heading home. He left the bakery with a sigh.

Accepting that his relationship with Marinette had ended was already difficult, but accepting that he had feelings for his ex's older sister was even harder. And if that wasn't enough, both his ex and his friend Adrien already knew about his feelings, but it seemed like he was oblivious to it all.

It was a family day, and you watched as your grandfather and father took the galette out of the oven. You couldn't resist tasting it. It was Sunday, and you had woken up early to help your parents at the bakery. Marinette was still asleep, and you were helping your parents until she finally woke up.

"Awake, Sleeping Beauty?" you chuckled as Marinette asked for a piece. Of course, she'd wake up to the smell.

"Yeah, I was thinking I could distribute the galette with (name) to the people outside for the tasting!" she suggested.

"Great idea! It's so good to see that young people are still polite!" Your grandfather laughed as he spoke, grabbing a tray full of sliced galette. Together with Marinette, you distributed them to everyone outside.

"Happy Kings' Galette Day! Hi, Nadia! Would you like some?" you offered as Nadia and Manu took a piece and thanked you. You continued distributing.

"Happy Kings' Galette Day! Oh, hi, Luka, Juleka! How are you?" you asked as the boy took a piece of galette.

"Hmm, wow! I still don't think I'll ever get used to your parents' cooking," Luka commented, and you chuckled at his remark while offering some to Juleka, who also took a piece and enjoyed it.

"Yeah, it's really good!" Juleka agreed as you waved and walked away, unaware of the boy's gaze following you.

"Happy Kings' Galette Day!" you greeted as you entered after distributing all the galettes, putting away the tray and wiping your flour-covered hands.

"Thank you so much, (name), for helping out!" your mother said, and you simply nodded, grabbing a small plate with some galette without your parents noticing and walking off.

"Marinette hasn't tried the galette yet. I think I should give her some," you smiled, walking to her room and knocking on the door.

"Marinette?" You thought she was in her room after helping you distribute some galette. You heard noises and assumed it was her. Luckily, when you called out Marinette's name, the kwamis had time to notice that someone was about to enter.

"Kwamis! Quick, hide!" Sass said as everyone rushed into the miraculous box, hiding inside.

Climbing up the stairs, you looked inside. Marinette wasn't there anywhere, yet you entered and placed the plate on her computer desk.

"When she comes back, she'll eat it," you said as you descended the stairs again, heading to the bakery downstairs. You noticed Marinette now watching your grandfather and the mayor arguing over the last galette.

"Did I miss something?" you asked Marinette as she laughed and shook her head. You observed as your grandfather kicked out the mayor. It would've been a good meme if you had filmed it earlier.

Hearing a honk, your parents and grandfather went outside.

"Grandma?" you asked as she entered, now talking about a gift for you? Marinette already got her motorcycle, but your birthday is still far away. You don't understand, but now your grandparents and parents are discussing the early gift. Upon entering the bakery, everyone looked at Marinette as she held the box with the galette.

"Oh, I was just about to take the galette upstairs for us to eat together as a family!" you sighed in relief as everyone went upstairs to the living room, but it seemed like things still weren't resolved.

"Maybe they won't notice! But (name) isn't a little girl anymore; she's a young lady now! And I know she'll love to have the motorcycle! Isn't that right, (name)?" It seemed like things hadn't been resolved; they still insist on your birthday, which hasn't even arrived yet.

"What nonsense! (Name) will only be an adult at 18! Until then, she's still a child!"

"I'm not a child, Grandpa!" you said, already getting annoyed with your grandfather's behavior. Sure, you'll be turning 17 soon, but he still doesn't need to decide things for you.

"Allowing her to think otherwise is to educate her wrong!" your grandfather continued, ignoring your words.

"I don't think—" Marinette is interrupted by your family again.

"You came to argue again! I know my little girl better than anyone! And I think that motorcycle is too dangerous for her yet!" Your father doesn't help as he argues with your grandparents.

"You're right, son! Your mother is irresponsible!" Marinette looks at your family arguing, even you, a total pacifist of balance, was starting to get irritated with your family deciding for you. It was clear you were about to get stressed, that is if Marinette didn't see Trixx and Wayzz pointing to Tikki almost eating the galette.

"Marinette, what are you doing?" your mother asked, while Marinette, with a nervous look, holding the galette in her hands, looks at the family.

"Oh, nothing! Why don't we think it's time to try the galette?!" Marinette then quickly cuts the galette and puts it on plates, giving it to her family.

"Mmm! It looks delicious! Oops! Let's eat!" Even holding the galette, the family continues to argue, and you try to at least get a voice there.

"Your tone is too protective with your daughter! Just like your father did with him! Do you at least give her freedom?!" Your grandmother retorts as she eats.

"That's how it's done! Parents have to protect their children!" Your grandfather says as he argues with your grandmother.

"But I don't need that! I'm old enough, don't you think?!" you say as everyone still argues.

"Yes, and I'm not overprotective of her!" your father says before your mother steps in.

"Oh yes, you are! And she's not a little girl anymore!" your mother says as you agree, the argument was getting on your nerves.

"I think the motorcycle is an exaggeration!" your mother responded to your grandmother as you rub your forehead.

"What (name) lacks are rules and discipline!"

"What she really needs is more freedom!"

"What she needs is a father who can protect her!"

"Who chooses what she needs is (name) herself!"

"I could if you stopped deciding things as if I were a newborn baby!"

A fight continued for a while, but you couldn't bear to be ignored anymore when your family was making decisions for you.

"Enough! I'M TIRED OF ALL OF THIS!!" You stand up, dropping the plate with the galette, stomping your feet in irritation as you leave the room. You hadn't noticed Marinette's absence in the room; you were too irritated with the situation. Slamming the door shut, you lean against it, sighing before finally leaving and heading to your room.

"I need to relax!" you mutter as you scratch your neck, heading to your desk and grabbing your backpack. Maybe you could draw or do something until the situation resolved itself. Closing and locking the door for privacy, you put the key around your neck as you walked out of the bakery. You hadn't noticed a small purple butterfly flying towards the window of your house. You began to walk, perhaps heading to the museum, a quiet and peaceful place to relax when you needed to.

"(Name)! WHERE ARE YOU?!" You heard someone calling you; it sounded like your mother, but it might just be in your head. Ignoring it, you continue to vibe with the music in your head.

"(Name)?" You look up to see who called you, seeing Luka. Removing your headphones, you wave to him.

"Hey, Luka! How are you?" You approach the boy, who was smiling.

"So, about that matter, are you up for going out today?" Luka says, but before you can respond, you hear a crash.

"(Name)!!! YOUR GRANDMOTHER BEFANA IS GOING TO GIVE YOU YOUR FREEDOM~" You look up to see your grandmother akumatized on her motorcycle, approaching quickly.

"I guess our date will have to wait for now. Let's go!" Luka says, grabbing your hand and running, dodging Befana's shots. You manage to run into an alley, stopping to catch your breath, leaning against the wall and trying to calm your breath.

"I guess we'll postpone it for tomorrow," you joke, pointing your finger at Luka, who chuckles a bit before asking seriously, "Do you know what happened for her to be like this?"

"Family stuff, and I haven't even been gone for 5 minutes!" You say before running your hands through your hair. You don't notice Luka looking at you and then out of the alley, seeing a certain red kwami flying away, until you start hearing loud noises and the ground begins to crack.

"What's happening!?" You say, holding onto the wall, feeling the ground shake. Looking up, you notice something—a huge galette painted red with black dots.

"But what—"

"Let's go!" You're interrupted again when Luka pulls you, running out. Looking back, you see your akumatized grandfather shouting.

"(Name)! I WON'T ACCEPT THIS! YOU'RE NOT OLD ENOUGH TO DATE YET!" Your grandfather shouted as he started running after you. Looking at Luka, who was dragging you as you fled from your akumatized family, you didn't even realize what your grandfather had said. You were too shocked by everything. Luckily, as you ran, you saw Ladybug and Cat Noir heading towards your house. But again, you were dragged into an alley, watching your akumatized family pass by. You take a deep breath after running so much.

"Hope Ladybug and Cat Noir end this soon!" you say, panting, while holding onto your knees.

"They will, I'm sure of it," you hear Luka say, also panting. You turn your head, smiling at him.

"Look!" You turn your head to see Ladybug's ladybugs fixing things, especially patching up you and Luka, who got a little scratched up from the situation.

"It seems like everything's resolved!" you say happily, watching everything being restored.

"Let's go see your family!" You hear Luka say, and then you agree, walking back to your house and observing everyone gathered in the bakery. You don't even notice the boy still holding your hand.

"I owe you one, Luka. Thank you," you say.

"You can repay me by going out with me tomorrow. Deal?" Luka suggests.

"Sure! Let's set the time!" you say, looking at Luka, who smiles and agrees. You finalize your farewell by hugging the boy and saying goodbye.

"(Name)!!!" you hear your family calling you in unison. You turn your head towards the bakery to see your family coming out, smiling. You sigh with a smile before entering.

"Let's finish eating the galette first, then we'll figure things out!" you say, listening to your family chatting and apologizing for the gift mishap.

Bonus:

"Sorry, guys, I couldn't get a piece of galette for all of you," Marinette apologizes to the kwamis as they watch her.

"Don't worry, Marinette! Actually, your sister came earlier today and left a plate with a piece for you. Since there was plenty, we took the liberty to eat some. Hope you don't mind," the kwamis explain.

"It's okay!" Marinette says, a bit shocked at the situation but soon smiling. "She's always like that anyway, haha."

"I have to thank her later," Marinette thought to herself.

76 notes · View notes

blue-jisungs · 2 months

Text

MERRY GO

author's note. 3rd time is the charm so here's my final angst piece in this event :3 no but the song is so:( i saw ian's comment abt it on genius and i just ... dunno, had to write it

word count. 672

summary. your and jun's relationship reminds you of a merry go -- but there is time for you to get off it

“we need to… stop, whatever this is”

your voice echoed through the walls – but also in his head. it was heavy but not as heavy as the burden jun carried in his heart.

“i know, i know” jun replied, a sigh escaping his lips.

the silence in the room buzzed between you, a tension hanging densely. one spark of a wrong word and there will be an outbreak. both jun and you knew it well, too well.

“we’re not making any progress, are we?” an airy scoff ripped out of you, something amusing in this helpless situation “it… jun, it feels like an endless loop”

“oh, i know”

shifting in the red leather armchair, crossing your legs, scanning junhui’s silhouette. his eyes were somewhat teary but you weren’t sure if it was because of you or his overall state of being. you knew him like the back of your own hand, like the inside of your pocket. jun was exhausted - both mentally and physically. maybe you were a part of the problem, sure. but something told you he wasn’t taking care of himself properly.

hence you’re here.

“i… we, jun. we can’t keep doing that” your voice was quiet “i'm still fumbling with your memories about the last time we tried, when our worlds were falling away from us”

your relationship with jun was sweet at the beginning. but over time it turned bitter, eventually leading to a breakup. and everything after that - because you wouldn’t call it a relationship - reminded you of a merry-go round carousel. breaking off, ignoring each other and then coming back, only to hurt the other more. again and again, in a loop; in a spinning circle.

“you don't know what you've done to me, y/n” jun grunted.

meeting on a neutral ground was a good idea. no sentimental value of his living room or your bedroom. just a cheap motel, with occasionally flickering lights. it lit up his skin with a yellowish gleam, making his brown eyes look less scary to look in. the ridge of his nose which you adored so much looked so appealing, you wished you could just reach your hand out and trace it… like you used to.

“i can’t live without you” the man in front of you said “i want it all back”

“we can’t, junhui” you still loved him but you two ere no good for each other “it’s a lesson we learned too many times. i don’t want to hurt you and… i don’t want to get hurt either”

“i know, i know” jun’s throat felt like there was a rock stuck inside, his ability to speak dropping to a toddler lever.

his work, your frustration. your bottled feelings leading to hurtful words. then redemption - shared moments sweeter than the previous ones, kisses more passionate because both of you knew it will snap eventually. a repeating loophole that you lost count of how many times it has repeated itself.

“one… final chance. i cannot live without you… you, you know it. and you need me” he stuttered out and it was true. both of you acknowledged it.

with the sound of a flickering lamp in the terrifyingly silent room, a decision was made in your mind - quite the opposite of what your broken heart wanted.

“don’t… call me again. i love you jun but we can’t. i genuinely wish you the best, you deserve it. but i can’t be the one to bring you pure happiness” you didn’t even notice the crystal tears falling down your cheeks.

both of you stood up and jun wiped your skin with a sad smile. one word and he’s going to break down too, you could see it in his eyes.

“sorry… but you know it’s a right decision” you whispered, letting his embrace comfort you for the last time.

“oh, i know” the most heartbreaking sigh reached your ears.

jun hugged your shaking silhouette, tears balancing at his own waterline as well.

no more sending back around this merry go.

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umnitsa · 6 months

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You should mess with Jim - 7

Summary: Big Jim is out for the week, he's eager to go back home! Maybe to your home :3

A/N: I don't even know, my friends. It just came to me as a flash, and damn, I missed Big Jim. By now I'm not sure we are going anywhere but the bedroom with those two bunnies. <3

Banner from @cafekitsune

Written with unholy eagerness and absolutely no proofreading!

Pairing: retiredpornstar!Hopper x fem!Reader

CW: Fingering, degradation (in a loving way), cockwarming, talks of Jim being an old man (any age gap is on your mind, I didn't write it!)

Jim had to be patient.

You two had a lovely day together and unwillingly parted ways. At least he wished you could have stayed more.

Fuck, you were cuddly. And you let him indulge in his laziness, curled on top of him, wasting hours of your time just enjoying the feeling of your skins touching.

But he couldn’t fuck you that night. He had a bit of a resurgence and, fuck, money was money. So he was going to travel for work, a week. He told you so, with sadness, and you just shyly asked if you could see him when he came back.

Jim wanted to sweep you into his arms and crush your body against his.

He never hated his work that much.

Every night he wondered if he should call you, and he broke his resolve by wednesday night.

“Hey, sweetie.” He softly gruffed.

“Jim!” You chirped happily. “I was hoping you would call.”

“Didn’t want to bother you.” He said softly. “If I knew I wouldn’t would have called earlier.”

You giggled, making him open a huge smile. He placed a hand behind his head, laying on the bed. Jim felt the stirrings of desire in his lower belly. Jim closed his eyes and exhaled, he still had shoots in the next day… Jim looked at his dick and huffed. He was surely regretting his policy of saving himself for the moneyshot that moment.

“What are you thinking?” You asked, curiously.

“I’m getting hard just from hearing you giggle, sweetie.” He growled. “I work tomorrow, I can’t do anything about this.”

“Really?” You giggled even more. “Don’t give me power, Big Jim.”

“You’re a tease.” He stated, his smile almost audible through the telephone, somehow. “Tell me how was your day.”

“Work, home, touching myself to a video of yours… Nothing much.” You teased, Jim groaned in response.

“Damn, sweetie, this is serious!” Jim blurted, exasperated but feeling incredibly fond of you at the same time. You exploded in giggles, and he huffed.

“Sorry.” You said, but he could hear you were not really sorry. Naughty little thing. He really enjoyed that aspect of you. “Anything new?”

“Oh, I was casted to play Santa, for the first time.” He said amusedly, scratching his chest, his cock hard, unattended, making his boxers sticky. “I’m gonna get all the ho-ho-hoes.” He continues, cheekily. You groan.

“I don’t know why this made me wet.” You giggle.

“I am the biggest DILF in the business, I know I am. I got the sense of humor and everything.” Jim looked down and sighed. “I gotta go, darling. This call isn’t getting easier.”

Jim had to be patient.

***

By friday you were angry and a bit testy. The damn call gave you the unholy idea not to touch yourself until Jim visited. You thought it would be sweet, just three days, it wouldn’t be much.

You were avoiding your computer like the plague, so you wouldn’t be tempted by all the porn in the internet.

You thought he would find it cute that you even tried, but by night you were considering getting your toys and not telling him what you did.

It was late, when you heard the knocking on the door.

Your state of undress didn’t bother you, only one person could be knocking on your door so late. Jim. But he told you he would arrive in the morning.

You opened the door, quickly.

“Did you order a pizza?” Jim was standing at the doorstep, smiling. He had two big boxes of pizza balanced in one hand, some beer on the other. There was a backpack hanging from his shoulders. You giggled, insanely happy to see him. “I finished early and changed my flight.”

You stepped back, inviting him in. You directed him to the table, so he could get rid of the pizza boxes and the beer, at least.

“Oh, I love men who come bearing gifts, you are a Prince.” You rubbed his back, humming as you felt his solid expanse under your fingers. A shiver between your legs made you tremble, and you were painfully aware of the fact you weren’t wearing panties under your big shirt. “I’m glad you came early.”

“It’s rare, but it happens.” He chuckled with his own double entendre, then turned to you. “Last weekend was so good I thought we could repeat the dose. Here, this time.” His big hand moved over your waist, pulling you closer. “I want you to see the one I did today, the Santa one.”

“Are you fishing to see if you can awake a new kink in me?”

“Oh, no. I wanna see you complain about every single dirty pun in the damn script, you’ll love it!” He grabs his belly and boasts a ho-ho-ho, to your utter dismay. You explode in laughter, then groans playfully. You can feel your thighs sticky, as he smirks at you. “Come on, let’s eat some pizza, then we can cuddle.”

You must have made a face, or a noise, because Hopper stopped, a slice of pizza on his big hand.

“What happened, sweetie?” He raised his eyebrows, looking concerned. “You look like a deer in the highlights.”

“Well…” You toe the floor, looking mischievous. “I felt sorry for you in that call so I stopped touching myself until you came back.”

“Oh, baby.” Jim’s eyes sparkled, a crooked, satisfied smirk curling his lip to one side. “You’re frustrated. Your greedy pussy didn’t get even a finger! I bet she’s hungry.”

Jim sat, smiling smugly, bit on the pizza slice as he watched your squirming. He chuckled and opened a beer.

“Sit, eat something, you’re gonna need your strength eventually.” Jim sounded so sweet you felt almost as if he was mocking you. It made you blush, his teasing.

“You’re evil, Jim.” You grumbled, pulling one chair.

“As if you don’t like it.” Jim pokes you playfully, fingertips tickling your side. “So you took pity on me and decided to save yourself for your own particular moneyshot.”

“When you say it like this it doesn’t sound like a good idea.” You chuckle.

“You forgot two things.” He raised two fingers, a huge, sweet smile on his face, making his eyes twinkle. “One: my work gives me some relief, so I wouldn’t be waiting for long. Two: you’re a horny little dirty thing. It must have been hell.”

He kept eating, as if nothing was happening, his fingertips tickling over your thigh, up and down. A feathery soft tease kissing your skin, up and down. You felt the tingle in your pussy, and a shiver up your body.

“Poor little thing.” He rumbled gently, palming your thigh, his warm palm a source of unbearable heat against your skin. “I bet you’re so frustrated. Your toys are probably glad for the small vacation.”

“Hey!” You blushed, squirming under his gaze. You squirmed, feeling pinned down by his eyes. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, shame acting just as fuel to the fire between your legs. “I like to imagine my toys are happy.”

“I can imagine how much the little motors struggle to keep up with your desire, little slut.” He teased again, testing the waters to see your reaction. He looked so sweet, his eyebrows raised, degrading you so gently. Your nipples hardened, sensitive against the shirt. “Hmmm, I see you like that. Good to know… I do too, sweetie.” He brushes the back of his fingers against your nipple, rubbing gently up and down. “It’s so good when we enjoy those things together, isn’t it, honey?”

Even with all the sweetness, he sounded almost condescending. Smug, even.

You whimpered, nodding, almost overwhelmed by his light touch. He was playing with you.

“Aw, look at you, all dumb… And I barely did anything! So sensitive, little thing.” He palmed your breast, enjoying your hard nipple poking the palm of his hand. “I bet you’re not wearing panties.”

Jim let go of the pizza, opened a beer, then pulled you to sit on his lap.

“Oh, lucky me wearing shorts today, I can feel you so warm against my thigh.” His hand wrapped around your waist, and he rubbed your skin, and your hip. He squeezed, kneading gently as he sipped on the beer. He released the can and raised his fingers to your nipples.

A flash of cold enveloped your sensitive nipples, through the shirt, the cold moisture of condensation that still cling to his fingertips seeping on the fabric and adding a new layer of sensation. You shivered.

Jim leaned, his nose brushing gently against your ear, his hot breath fanning against your cheek.

“Does that feel good?” His fingertips moved gently over and around your nipples. With a light caress to the curve of your breasts, his hand goes back to the can. He drinks, watching you with the side of his eyes. His lips curved lightly up, as you tensed.

“Yes, it does.” Your voice was trembling, shaky from the effort of pushing words out, when your body was so focused on the feelings brought by his gentle ministrations.

“Would you like more? What do you want, little slut?” Jim felt his cock straining his shorts, pulsing, his underwear sticking to the head. He knew he was too tired to fuck you the way you deserved, but he would make sure you would come as many times as you needed, on his fingers and on his tongue.

He wanted to make you come, as many times as he could; he wanted to feel you slack against his body, fucked out, floating in afterglow.

But he couldn’t help himself, he wanted to tease you. He enjoyed your wide eyes, your trembling lip; so afraid of your own desires but ready to sample each one of them. With him.

He could list a thousand reasons why you shouldn’t want to… He didn’t think he was worthy of your desire, but you gave it so freely. It was so pure… He had to taste it.

You panted, trying to take control of your own body, at least enough that you could answer him, but you were mesmerized by the way he moved. His thick fingers made the can look so small, and it made you feel warm to think those big, thick fingers could fit in you, and make you feel so good.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen, my greedy little whore.” He rested the can against the table. His fingertips went back to your nipples and once again you shivered.

“I really need to come, Jim.” You pouted, wiggling your hips so he could feel how wet you were. “Soon.” You swallowed, licking your lips. You raised your hands and placed them on his chest. He cupped your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheek gently. He watched your eyes, your lips, licking his own. You blinked, eyelashes wet. “Please, Jim.” You whined. “I can’t take much more. I’m sorry.”

Jim wanted to crush you against his body, just hug you so tightly neither of you could breathe. Nodding, he made you stand up, then stood himself.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie. I’m here now.” He looked around, navigating your house, considering where your bedroom should be. With a comforting smile, he lead you through the house, leaving you sitting on the bed. “I’ll take care of you, lie down. I’m gonna wash my hands.”

You nodded, taking your shirt off and lying on the bed. Jim didn’t take long to be back, soft smiles and slow, purposeful movement. His eyes trained on you, he stopped at the side of the bed and took his shirt off, in one quick movement. He then opened his belt and toed off his shoes. It was such a mundane moment, but you were entranced by the way his big body moved.

“You’re so beautiful.” You whispered, the words just escaping your mouth.

Jim blushed, laying down, his head between your legs.

“I’m too tired to give you everything you deserve right now, sweetie.” Jim nuzzled your pussy gently, humming along your slit. “I’m just an old man you seduced with your needy, begging eyes. Keep offering this sweet, greedy pussy to me… How can I say no?” He licked a broad strip along your pussy, and the pleasure you wanted so much hitting you like an electric current.

You felt his shoulders under your thighs, his thick arms wrapping around your legs, as he licked more and more, pressing his face against you. A moan escaped your lips, your hand holding his head, burying your fingers in his hair. He growled, pulling back.

“So desperate.” He mused and shifted again; you felt his thumb against your clit as he looked up for your reactions. He rubbed in circles, in an unhurried pace. “Do you want a finger, sweetie?”

“More!” You whined, pushing against him.

“More than one?” He taunted, gently. “Two?” He chuckled condescendingly. You nodded, eagerly, as he teased your hole. “Three? Greedy�� You sure you can take it? Two whole days neglecting your little pussy…”

He pushed two fingers into you, carefully. You whimpered, and his lips went back to your clit. He licked and suckled as his fingers thrusted in and out of you, to his knuckles. You whined and pushed against him, desperate for release.

Chuckling, Jim added a third finger and angled them just right. You felt weightless, your orgasm exploding into fireworks, fizzling against your skin. Your consciousness slipped, ecstasy burning through the edges of all your senses.

“So good for me. Look at that.” He whispered softly, pulling away. “So good… My little pervert…”

You chuckled, feeling his hands sliding over your body, big paws grabbing and kneading your flesh. He chuckled too, blushing.

“You liked it, don’t you?” He asked, almost sheepishly. “I mean, I love that you are a little pervert.”

“Yeah, Jim.” You turned to your side, as Jim wrapped his body around yours. “I really enjoyed your dirty fantasies, old man. So helpless against my charming pussy.” You chuckled, squirming against him.

“Temptress.” Jim pushed his cock between your slick thighs, his warmth a furnace along your slit. You grumbled, pushing back, trying to get comfortable. “What about some cockwarming, hm?”

“Oh… It would be good.” You sighed, as his cock slid inside you, thick, hard, pulsing, as you squeezed him tightly. “Fuck, Jim…” You exhaled, your body relaxing against his.

“Yeah.” He hugged your body, crushing you against him. “So greedy you can only relax with my cock buried deep inside your cunt.”

You giggled, your muscles fluttering under and around him. He sighed, a deep chuckle, then yawned, nuzzling your neck.

“This poor old man is tired from working and travelling so he could meet his dirty little pervert.” Jim said, mirth obvious on his voice. “He needs his sleep so he can fuck his sweetie properly, just the way she deserves.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. You could feel his breathing calming down, getting deeper, until he was rumbling softly against you. Jim’s soft snores made him vibrate gently.

His hand absentmindedly caressed your thighs, your belly, as he drifted to sleep; his warmth and solid presence pulled you with him.

#maycore #mayb writes #hopper smut #jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x fem!reader #pornstar!jimhopper

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neyswxrld · 21 days

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weightless

Wrecker & Tech

summary: Wrecker and Tech meet in the afterlife.

warnings/vibe: it's not something that is all too sad i guess; there's an explosion, some clichés (the light in the darkness, force ghosts, you know the drill!)

words: ~1490

a/n: happy final bad batch eve! 🖤❤️🧡🖤

ok, hear me out - i don't want to fuel or believe in any theories before the final episode tomorrow. this is just for myself, for comforting and assuring myself that no matter what, everything will be okay eventually! of course, i absolutely hope nothing bad is going to happen, but for the case that wrecker dies ((and tech actually is dead)), i needed something to hold on to. and i'm sharing this because maybe someone finds some comfort in this one, too.

p.s.: english isn't my mother tongue, sorry for mistakes!

The last thing he sees is a bright fireball.

The last thing he feels is that burning heat all over his body.

The last thing he hears are Crosshair's frantic screams for him.

And then there's nothing.

Everything is quiet, peaceful.

There aren't any aches, or pain.

He isn't hungry, thirsty, too hot or too cold.

Everything feels content and for a short moment he thinks he's flying.

Floating around, weightless. Which is funny, because due to his mutations, he's always been the biggest of his brothers. And the heaviest. But he didn't mind, as long as he was able to protect them. Keep them safe.

He almost feels comforted by the nothingness surrounding him.

Everything seems balanced. Okay.

For the first time in a long while, he doesn't even feel scared. Just... indifferent. Good indifferent.

But suddenly there's that small light in the distance.

It's almost sparkling, whirling around, and he almost feels like it's calling for him.

Slowly, he starts to float towards the light.

It seems to be warm and bright, a huge contrast to this foreign quietness surrounding him, but it's not unwelcome.

It kinda... feels like home. Like he needs to go to that light. He needs to touch it. Feel its warmth, its energy.

Carefully, he reaches for the light.

The warmth emitted from the ball suddenly swarms through his body, reaching every inch, every hair, every scar. Inside and outside.

It's so good... It feels so good. Like he has to be here.

The longer he touches the light, the brighter it gets, filling up all the surrounding space.

He has to close his eyes, the light is getting too much, and... and-

When Wrecker opens his eyes for the next time, he looks into the googled face of his brother.

This one looks down at him with a confused frown plastered across his face.

He looks... Just like on the day they lost him.

"Tech?" he asks, confused, worried.

Why is he here? Is he dreaming? Tech was... Tech is... Tech is dead. How could this be?

"Wrecker," Tech says, adjusting his goggles.

"What's goin' on?" he asks, groaning slightly as he sits up.

But it's more a reflex. Nothing... hurts. He feels fine.

"How long was I out? Has to be for a long time, I feel good, nothin' hurts. At all," he raises his arms over his head, stretching, "I- I dreamed you died. Stupid plan 99, should've never came up with that, you'd never leave us like that, right, Tech? Wouldn't just... do that," Wrecker rambles and scratches his neck with his hand, looking up to Tech.

His older brother looks at him with a weird look on his face.

"I indeed executed plan 99. It was the only way out for the majority of the squad. I kept you safe," Tech says, pulling his lips into a straight line.

"W-What?" Wrecker asks confused, before shaking his head.

For the first time, he looks around and sees some sort of space shuttle. Maybe Phees ship? Or was it the one Rex arrived with? He had no idea.

"What can you remember?" Tech asks next, shuffling on his feet a bit.

He stands in front of the bunk Wrecker lays in. The rest of the room was empty, quiet. He could hear some muffled voices outside the room, but he couldn't make out any words.

"We were going in on Tantiss. There was this massive animal kicking my ass. Hurt like hell... But I still made it. I'm not made of sugar, right? Then...," Wrecker stops for a second, thinking about everything. His memory starts to get sloppy.

"Just remember meeting Omega somewhere. She freed that zillo beast. It was huge! And then... There's something about an explosion. Crosshair almost got caught in it. I shielded him, I think," Wrecker murmurs and takes another deep breath as the memory of that burning pain around his body catches up with his brain.

But that's all - just a memory... Nothing hurts for real.

"Is he safe? Are the others? Where are they? Why are you here? Tech, I'm really confused right now," Wrecker shakes his head and looks up at his older brother again.

Tech swallows before nodding.

"They made it out fine, Wrecker," Tech assures him, before swallowing for a second time.

Why is he acting so weird?

"Great!" Wrecker exclaims, at the same as Tech says, "But you didn't."

They look at each other, keeping quiet for a while.

"I didn't?" He asks, "What do you mean by that?"

"You blew up, Wrecker. I think... you died," Tech states.

"I'm dead?" he echoes, before adding, "You think?"

"It appears that the explosion you shielded Crosshair from was a lot heavier than anticipated. While you saved Crosshair's life, you... you lost yours," Tech explains, breaking the news to him.

Wrecker looks at him for a few seconds, speechless.

That would explain why there isn't any pain. Or why he's able to talk to Tech.

They're both dead.

"I-I don't... Where are we? Why are we here?" is the next thing he wants to know, not fully able to understand how he should approach this new... situation. Everything's so strange.

"Currently, we are on a shuttle with the others. I dragged you up here. It appears that we are some kind of ghosts. At least we're in a state after life, which takes part in either some kind of parallel universe or in a temporal upheaval. I am not certain about that," Tech says, adjusting his goggles again.

Wrecker looks at him with raised brows, a huge question mark forming in his head. "You don't know?"

"In all that time I've been here, I wasn't able to fully conclude the whole extent of this... situation. But I've met some other clones, following their loved ones around in this state. So I assume it's a part of life, or, more precisely, the afterlife," his older brother sighs a little.

Wrecker pulls his feet over the edge of the bunk so he's fully sitting now, holding his head in his hands.

"Can the others see us?" Wrecker asks and Tech looks at him like he just lost his head.

"Of course not."

Wrecker feels like he just lost his head.

"It takes time getting used to. I'll leave you alone so you can think about it," Tech says.

Wrecker thinks he still acts a little odd. Not like the Tech he used to know. Not like the Tech that... was alive.

Tech seems to be honest about the fact that it takes some time to get used to the new situation. Wrecker isn't sure if his brother even got used to it by now. Not with how he's acting. And now... He's here, too.

"Tech," Wrecker starts and reaches for his brothers' wrist, gently laying his fingers around it and pulling him towards him.

"I-I don't want to be alone. Can you stay?" he says and moves to the side a little.

Tech nods and carefully sits down, unusually close to him.

"Have you been alone the whole time since..?" he wants to know, but Tech just shrugs.

"I was following the squad around," Tech murmurs and sinks into Wrecker's side as he lays an arm around him.

They haven't 'cuddled' like that in so, so many years.

"But now you have me," Wrecker whispers almost. He doesn't know if he's glad or sad about it.

Sure, he saved Crosshairs life. He helped his brothers. He had Tech again. But he'll miss the others. So, so much.

Tech has had to go through those first steps alone. He must have been so lost in the beginning. So lonely.

"Are we going to see the others again when they... When they die?" he wants to know after some time.

"That seems to be very likely," Tech answers, and Wrecker nods again.

That means he could still watch over them, be with them, and meet them again. And now, neither him or Tech, or the others will be alone for a while. Hopefully.

They freed Omega, they made a run for their lives.

They lost brothers, gained friends and family.

They settled down on a remote planet.

Quiet and peaceful.

They made a life for themselves, far, far away from the empire and all the evil in the world.

They saw Omega grow up.

They saw the others growing old.

They saw the others live the life they never had the chance to. And they were happy for them.

When Hunter joined them one day, they welcomed him with warm hugs and reassurances that everything would be fine.

As soon as Crosshair was with them, they almost felt complete once more.

When they followed Omega to Rex and his remaining brothers, they met Echo again.

Together, they kept watching over their baby sister, never forgetting their promises of staying with her.

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@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

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swiftsdelucaa · 1 year

Note

I apologize in advance for the sadness of this request.......

Could I please have a fic where the reader and Andrew DeLuca we're together before he died. A few weeks after his death Carina notices that the reader is showing signs of being pregnant. So she asks her about her symptoms and tells her to take a test. The test is positive and both of them cry. Then Carina promises that she’ll help with her little niece or nephew. And tells her that Andrew would be happy.

❛ 𝑶𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Andrew DeLuca x pregnant!reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: Okay- yes this was- 😭 But don't worry, here's :')

(I know 💔)

Everything is terrible. What you felt was terrible.

Your body could only shed tears continuously at all those moments where you thought about him, when you were together. You still couldn't understand anything, things were so good, everything was so beautiful. You and Andrew had even come to live together, having him with you every day all the day seemed like a dream. He did everything to make you the happiest girl in this world, it was enough for him to see you smile and everything became more pleasant for him. It was the same for you.

If you think back to the beginning of your relationship, you would never have imagined getting this far, let's say you weren't quite the each other's favorite people.

And now you couldn't imagine a life without him. You could barely be alone when he came home late from work, and now you had to get used to never seeing him again. He died trying to do what he loved the most, saving lives.

You spent the days lying on the bed, holding his pillow and still feeling his scent, as the tears kept coming down from your eyes. You just missed him too much.

The ringing of the bell managed to bring you back to reality. You tried to wipe away your tears and try to look presentable enough, climbed out of bed in one of his hoodies, and headed for the door.

You didn't want to deal with anyone at the moment, hearing another person comfort you or hearing about how amazing Andrew had been would only make your mood worse, but luckily when you opened the door you saw Carina. You got used to having her around by now, she came to see you every day.

"Come in" you told her as she set her purse down on the sofa, turning back to you for a better look. You weren't okay, at all, it was obvious.

"How are you feeling?" you sighed at her question, but you knew she was referring to your health. Yes, for a few days you were starting to feel nauseous, probably from stress or the shock of your body.

"Now I've just an annoying headache, I'm just..." you stopped, unable even to finish the sentence, feeling a strange sensation, your vision became blurred, you lost your balance letting you fall.

"Y/n!" Carina managed to catch you in her arms in time avoiding the impact on the floor. "Can you hear me? Y/n, please!" she laid you down on the sofa, seconds later you had already come to your senses.

"Oh God, you scared me to death" she sighed with relief to see you awake. "Y/n..."

"If you're going to say that it would be better to do tests in the hospital, no... I'm just tired-"

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something else, for a while now, but I didn't know how to tell you..." you stood up sitting up, you noticed a strange expression on her face.

“See, your symptoms exactly mirror those of a pregnancy…” she just wanted to try not to hurt you more as she said it.

"No, that's- I- I'm not" in your mind you were looking for all the possible proofs to deny it, but unfortunately, thinking about it deeply, it all seemed so frighteningly true.

"Nausea, breast enlargement, and now fainting, these are the classic initial symptoms that appear" you looked at her continuing to think deeply. This whole period had completely destroyed you that even pushed you to ignore everything, how is this possible?

Carina walked over to the purse she had set down, pulling something out of it. "That's why I think you need to take a test, at least we'll be sure" she handed it to you, but before taking it you stared at it for a few seconds. A big part of you kept repeating ʼI can'tʼ, but the other part deep down wanted to know, so you made up your mind without thinking twice, and headed for the bathroom.

Every second of waiting killed you more and more, then when the result finally came out you didn't move from there. Carina came in having noticed that you were taking longer than necessary, finding yourself in front of the mirror with a tear running down your cheek and falling near the point where the test with the positive result was placed. She couldn't help to not hold back the tears too, indeed it was her brother, and now it was his baby who would grow up without a father.

"Y/n... okay, look at me" you had no choice but to listen to her.

"You're pregnant. You're gonna have a baby. You have my nephew or niece in your womb, your and Andrew's baby!" her voice broke slightly at the end. You knew this was a wonderful thing, but it scared you so much, what if you weren't able to?

"Without him I can barely face a day, how could I raise his baby? I just want him with me back... I want him with our baby..." the tears kept coming out, but Carina wiped them from your face trying to reassure you.

"Listen to me, I know you miss him a lot, I miss him too, and I know this hurts. Yeah he's not here, but look, I have a beautiful girlfriend, and we'll get married, and now you'll have a baby! Knowing my brother I know he would have been the happiest person in this world, and certainly the best father" you laughed spontaneously at the thought, he loved kids, and kids loved him.

"And I will always be there for you, whenever you need me, I promise you" before you could begin to sob you hugged her tightly.

"You're not alone Y/n" she whispered to you as she wrapped her arms around you making you feel safe.

"Thank you" you said taking deep breaths.

This pregnancy has had its ups and downs, it was demanding, you made a lot of effort to be able to move forward in the best possible way. The beginning was the hardest part, but then when you felt that baby growing inside you and starting to move, you felt indescribable emotions, you couldn't wait to know him. Or her. Yes, you didn't want to know the sex.

Carina had kept her promise, she had been on your side every single second, in pregnancy, in moments of panic, when you felt bad, anything. Sometimes she told you some stories about when she and her brother were little, you liked listening to them, even if often she repeated how many tantrums Andrew threw, hoping your baby won't inherit, but you amused.

Then when the birth time came it seemed like you couldn't figure anything out anymore. When your waters broke you were in a restaurant with Carina, and, continuing to remain calm, she helped you get into the car, doing as soon as possible to get to the hospital, while you could only scream in pain excruciating that had taken over your whole body. You almost thought you couldn't make it, it hurt so much, and when they laid you on the bad you felt an enormous need to push. Carina told you over and over to wait, but this stupid baby was stubborn.

But when that moment comes, everything ceases to exist for you, there's only the sound of crying that marks the birth of a new life, and it literally melts your heart.

"It's a boy!" Carina exclaimed as she took him. She checked him for a moment and then finally placed him between your arms.

"He's... perfect" there were no right words, you kept looking at your son with a smile and shining eyes.

"Yes he is" Carina sat next to you.

"Damn. Look at him. It's a baby Andrew" you approached him to gently kiss his forehead, enveloping you in that perfume.

"He has his eyes" Carina added while you both you soften more and more at the sight of him. It could have lasted forever, today you would have promised to yourself that you'd done anything to give your son a wonderful life.

#andrew deluca #andrew deluca x reader #andrew deluca imagine #greys anatomy #grey's anatomy #greys anatomy x reader #greys anatomy imagine #y/n #fanfics #my writing #requests #this literally breaks you

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queentheweeb · 5 months

Text

Jake Sully X Fem Omaticaya Reader X Male Neytiri

Prompt: "We're not just friends, and you fucking know it."

Neytiri= Nei'ko

----------------------------------------------------

The last few months have been stressful for everyone, not just you. Once the sky people were driven from your home, you had many people that needed to be buried... It was harrowing and sad, and you mourned deeply having to bury friends and family, the children and the elderly... The only comfort was knowing they would be with Eywa, safe and happy.

"Y/N, we need your help over here." You were brought out of your thoughts and made your way over to the warriors carrying stuff, so you lent a hand, working effortlessly, which allowed you to get lost in your thoughts again. During this time, Jake has taken to being Olo'eyktan, dare you say, even better than Tsu'tey. He took all of the teachings to heart, and even though he was to blame for the sky people attacking, he more than made up for it. He and Nei'ko had bonded under the eyes of Eywa, who accepted their mating with open arms. You knew she would; she was not cruel and kept the balance of life.

"Start bringing the supplies to the west side where our Olo'eyktan and the warriors are." You nodded your head and grabbed a stack with a grunt. It was rather heavy, and you found yourself envious of the muscles on Jake and Nei'ko. What kind of training did they do? You found yourself blushing when your mind went in a sexual direction, so you shook your head, needing to focus on the task at hand and not your useless crush on the two. You walked along the dirt path, trying not to trip, and you made it safely to where you needed to place the supplies, dropping them with a huff. They were heavy for no reason; what kind of weapons and stuff were there?

"Thanks for the help." You turned around, smiling at Nei'ko, who smiled back tensely. He was always tense, but understandably so. He lost his father, his brother Tsu'tey, and so many friends, all while having to be Tsakarem and helping to heal the injured. He's very strong.

"No worries, Nei'ko. Since you and Jake have found this new home for us, there is much to do, and it will not be done in one day. You deserve to relax even if it's a few minutes." You stared at him as he began protesting that he was not done, so you rolled your eyes and grabbed his wrist to tug him along.

"What are you-" You turned your head to squint at him and frown.

"Don't be like that. I'm taking you to Jake; I might go in my head a lot, but I've noticed how you haven't been together much. You're both freshly mated still; you must relax and be together. Don't fight me on this." You both had a stare-off, but he huffed and maneuvered his hand to hold yours instead.

"Fine, but just hold my hand instead of my wrist. You're stronger than you think." You playfully rolled your eyes but obliged as the two of you walked while conversing lightly until you saw Jake in the distance, and you picked up the pace. His ear twitched, and he turned with a smile, greeting both of you, his arm reaching out to grab Nei'ko as you let go of his hand.

"Ma Nei'ko, hi baby." You looked off to the side as they kissed, ignoring how your heart twisted at the open display of affection. You wanted to be in the middle of them. "What are you doing here? Is something the matter?" You hummed, taking that as your chance to speak.

"He has been tense, and I told him that he needs to relax and be with you. You two are mated and need to be together." Your tail waved languidly as you watched them talk with their eyes. It was always so...interesting to see. You want to be able to do that and have that close connection with them. You wanted to bond with them and feel and understand each other on a deep level that no one else would understand.

"Thank you, Y/N, for watching out for him; I think I have the perfect idea of what we could do." Jake's eyes finally left him to look at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You felt your tail wave with anxiety and excitement when he grinned at you with all his teeth. You wanted to lick them.

"What ma Jake is trying to get out is if you want to join us on a walk...I know the perfect spot." Nei'ko was staring at you with a sneaky grin that had you looking at both of them in excited confusion. Jake and Nei'ko were so similar, yet so different.

"Are you sure I will not intrude on your time together?" You really hoped you weren't because that would be just a shame. You'll take any time you can get to be with them. They looked at each other again before facing you with matching grins.

"You already know that we won't mind, or else we wouldn't have invited you." You chuckled lightly at that and nodded your head in agreement.

"That is true." You looked around at the stuff you were doing, but it could wait and be done by someone else since Jake and Nei'ko wanted you to come with them. "I don't mind going with you two. The work can be done by someone else." They nodded, and Jake wrapped an arm around Nei'ko's waist and the other around your shoulder as the three of you started talking lowly and heading out to the trees where your Ikrans were. You followed obediently, getting your Ikran, climbing on her, and flying with them for a few to an unknown destination. As you flew through the trees, letting the breeze hit your face, you were unaware of the lovestruck looks both men were giving you. Soon enough, the three of you landed on a cliff edge, and the three Ikrans disappeared behind you in the trees.

"It's beautiful, isn't it." You turned to answer Jake, but he was already in your space, crowding you. You found yourself smiling at him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his hands landed on your waist.

"The view or me?" You were teasing him, and your smile grew as hands landed on your hips in that tight grip you loved.

"You know who we are talking about syulang." You looked down, grinning to yourself as the two men held on to you and squished you in between their bodies. You loved this; this was all you wanted, but...it was sad that you couldn't act like this in public because neither of them had claimed you. You knew it wasn't the right time, but it still upset you.

"What are you thinking so hard about, sweetheart?" It was Jake asking this. He moved a hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Talk to me, sweetie." You took a breath, never breaking eye contact.

"I'm just wondering how it would feel to be open about us...but I guess we're just friends." You looked off to the side, missing how his eyes darkened and mouth twisted in indignance. He didn't wait for you to turn him; he squeezed your waist and used his free hand to grab your face to turn to him.

"We're not just friends, and you fucking know it." You blinked, going to say something, but gasped at the feeling of teeth sinking into your shoulder. It was Nei'ko who bit you and pulled away to lick and kiss the wound he had just made. You went to scold him but hissed at the feeling of teeth sinking into your other shoulder. That was Jake! They both just marked you, and it felt...good? It felt good to be claimed.

"Friends don't hold and mark each other Y/N." You felt Nei'ko wrap a hand around your throat, forcing your head back. "Or do this." He brought his lips onto yours, swallowing your soft moans as Jake took the opportunity to leave love bites on your neck, humming every time you jolted. When they both pulled away, you were breathing heavily and confusingly aroused. This was not what you saw happening today.

"I think we've been hiding her too long ma Jake. She needs a reminder that she's wanted, and...once everything settles down, we will announce you as our third. It's not uncommon within the Omaticaya anyway." You felt your eyes widen in hope, looking at Nei'ko, smiling gently at you, his pupils enlarged.

"You mean it?" He grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Of course I do." You smiled serenely at him, bringing your attention to Jake, whose eyes were wide with fondness.

"I can't wait to announce you are ours...but, first, let's make it up to you, yeah?" He didn't wait for your answer; he got it when you hugged him and moaned into the kiss. All you could think about was their hands and mouths on you as you thought about your future with them.

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Did something different again! Let me know what you think about this one.

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #na'vi reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully fluff #jake sully x fem!reader #jake sully x female reader x neytiri #neytiri x navi reader x jake #neytiri x jake #male neytiri #jake sully x omaticaya!reader

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gyubaseone · 1 year

Text

kim taerae. lovestruck

❛ i would do anything for you, always. ❜

pairing — kim taerae x f!reader

genre — fluff, just taerae being the best bf EVER

synopsis — taerae grew up with so much love surrounding him, he had to share that love somehow. of course, it had to be with his favorite human being.

warning — none! third person pov, lowercase intended, not proofread thoroughly.

word count — 1,126

notes — kind of went off from the request but i hope the anon who requested this enjoys still 😭 i was actually planning to do something similar so i mixed my idea with the request .. not really happy with it but 💧

★ ( please fill out this form to be on my taglist ) ❕

kim taerae was probably the kindest and sweetest soul that y/n has ever met. even after months of them being in a relationship, it seemed like nothing changed. he was still the charming dork that she fell for ; he was perfect in every way.

now imagine, if she thought that he was perfect then how would he feel? the answer is: he's absolutely smitten. since the moment they became a couple, he was always with her. even when he wasn't, he wanted to be with y/n or would be texting her about how much he wanted to be with her. taerae was so lovestruck.

every moment they spent together, all their date nights whether it was eating out or a movie night at his apartment — he was always his happiest when he was with y/n. there was nothing she could do wrong in his eyes.

taerae could literally stare into her eyes for days on end if nobody stopped him. his eyes were definitely heart-shaped whenever he looked at her with such fondness while smiling brightly.

growing up in a loved family, taerae had to be the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. he was definitely the best boyfriend y/n could have asked for. it's like he always knew what to say or do when he was with her.

whenever y/n was down, he was the first and only person she talked to ; taerae would be at her front door in a matter of 10 minutes. whenever y/n wanted to have a late night snack, he would sleep over at her apartment while they munched on the things he bought for them.

he just loved seeing her happy and he was the reason she was so happy. it's like taerae was her comfort place whenever she was sad or stressed about life. so when y/n suddenly shows up at his front door with a sullen look, of course, he had to take care of his favorite person.

taerae was heating up some leftovers in his kitchen when there was a subtle knock at his door followed by a louder one. "i'm coming, one second!" he yelled, putting his phone on the granite counter before walking over to the door.

once he opened it, taerae was met with y/n who embraced him immediately. he almost fell back due to the impact, not expecting his girlfriend to be over or to be hugged so quickly right after opening the door. nonetheless, his arms landed on her back as he regained balance.

"bad day, hm?" he inquired, only to be met with a nod as she still rested on his shoulde, "don't worry.. i know what'll make you feel better."

leftovers? they didn't exist anymore. taerae ended up putting them back into the fridge after settling y/n onto the couch and ordering food delivery for the two. maybe he could've taken her out to eat so that she could forget whatever was on her mind, but he knew her. she wouldn't want to go outside on a day she was sad.

"food will be here in 15 minutes," taerae informed, falling into the couch and laying down so his head would be on y/n's lap. he looked up, seeing her smile slightly just having him with her. "there's that smile that i love so much.." his hands ended up cupping her face, pinching her cheeks while she whined in protest. "wanna tell me what happened today?"

and so, y/n began ranting about how her boss had yelled at her for the whole morning even though she had done nothing wrong. "i just felt like breaking down in the bathroom by then but there were 3 hours left of my shift," she let out a sigh exasperated, "i'm so tired, taerae. i shouldn't be treated like this right?"

"you shouldn't, you don't deserve that," taerae agreed, changing into a sitting position to put his head on her shoulder. "i would hit your boss if it wasn't considered assault."

the two stayed in the same position the entire time they waited for the food, not doing anything but basking in each other's presence. it was nice ; peaceful. it was exactly what y/n needed after a day where she was constantly yelled at.

after finishing their food, taerae and y/n ended up in his bedroom to take a nap since they were stuffed from their meal. he was sitting down at the end of his bed, waiting for y/n to come back while passing time on his phone. but once she came back, he was in for a surprise.

y/n was wearing a different shirt, his shirt. in some way, taerae might've just fallen in love with her all over again. "is that my shirt?" he asked, a bright smile on his face as y/n walked closer to the bed and sat down beside him.

"yeah, i didn't want to sleep in my clothes.. they were too rough," y/n explained, looking over at taerae while fixing her hair, "is that okay?"

"okay? it's more than okay! maybe you should just keep the shirt, it looks better on you anyways," taerae placed his hands on her thigh slowly, patting her leg while he admired her.

"okay— well, let's go to bed! i'm tired," y/n looked away from taerae while pretending to yawn, feeling her cheeks burn up at his words.

the two got situated in taerae's bed, facing each other in silence. "did i do a good job at making you feel better?" taerae asked, running his hand through her hair.

"you did, just like always," y/n gave him a soft smile, nodding her head while she started becoming drowsy, "thank you for always being there for me."

"what can i say? i love seeing you happy," taerae smiled as he stared into her eyes, slightly tilting her chin while he suppressed a kiss onto her nose, "i would do anything for you, always."

before he knew it, y/n had leaned in for a kiss on his lips after he pulled away ; she could feel him smiling through their kiss. it started with small pecks, slowly progressing into a longer one before they parted and stared into each other's eyes for a moment. the moment was perfect.

taerae wrapped his arms around y/n's waist, pulling her closer to him as she rested her head on his chest ; nuzzling her head to be even closer if she could. but of course, taerae couldn't go to bed without peppering her forehead with more fluttery kisses ; making sure he didn't miss a spot. the two slowly drifted off into a slumber, holding each other close.

#zerobaseone #zb1 #zerobaseonefics #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 imagine #zb1 imagines #kim taerae #kim taerae x reader #kim taerae imagines #boys planet #boys planet imagine #gyubaseone #gyubaseone works. 🐰

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firefly--bright · 6 months

Text

peeks and blinders (you know me)

jean kirstein x gender neutral! reader, modern au

summary : being loved required patience and time and hope. luckily, jean provided all of them, without hesitation.

warnings : feelings of being deeply alone, heavy, hurt/comfort but mostly hurt, reader might sort of have depression

a/n : aha. lol. lmao. uhmmm yeah this is incredibly self indulgent and a projection. if you relate to this please PLEASE know that you're a) not alone and also b) I'm here if you ever need anyone to talk to. i wrote this with an unhappy ending in mind but with the poll results (and let's be honest, the aot finale) I decided to make it a happy ending instead. don't worry, everything works out in the end. this fic might just be terrible if you're already sad, so reader discretion is advised! i dont expect anyone to read the whole thing!!! but if you do read it, I hope you like it because I spent way too long on it. the ending might've been a little rushed only because I wanted to get this out as soon as possible so I could move on with a new fic idea ;)

taglist : @mrsnobodynobody @holding-infinity-and-a-book @jeanscremebrulee (side note- thank you for the kind words in my taglist form's criticism/comments question. i truly, deeply appreciate it :) )

masterlist is in pinned post! ✿ requests are open! ✿ likes and reblogs are appreciated! ✿ join my taglist ✿

✿ recommended playlist to listen to while reading ✿

living with someone meant showing yourself, something you weren't afraid of. well, not afraid, more just apprehensive. there was too much of a potential to fucking up a relationship; showing yourself too much in the one place you're allowed to be yourself without restrictions and limitations. you love your friends, you love jean, but sometimes the quietness of being alone was more than welcome because it had to be.

so when jean asked you with eyes that didn't meet your own if you wanted to move in with him, you didn't answer. quiet literally, you paused from eating the slice of pizza in your hand. he continued on with his nervous 'making-up-for-the-lack-of-response' ramble, explaining how you technically already lived together, how he liked finding your toothbrush next to his, and reluctantly admitted that he sometimes used your soap when he wanted to have a good day. a speech that warmed you despite your answer.

because no matter how comfortable you'd be with anyone, sharing the same space with them was a different kind quiet, unrelenting vulnerability. the fact that you existed and let someone percieve you without hinderance was...too much to think about. you had been alone your whole life, not in a pitiable way, but in a way where you didn't have a childhood best friend. you didn't have people stick around, like you were only at a corssroad of people's lives and greeted them with familiarity and comfort that they'd craved, despite your want and desire for it yourself. they'd continue on with their path while you would sit there, patiently, passing time.

jean admitted it to you. indirectly, he had confessed that he wanted to see you vulnerable and bare open in a way that people wouldn't know you normally. in a way where you were simply a locked window that noone had the key to. but there wasn't anything special to hide, no great overview of the city or the sea or rolling hills and valleys and large fields. no, just an unimpressive view of an unmowed backyard. untamed and messy - again, nothing special. just years of neglect while also being looked at. nothing special.

you didn't want him to see it. and technically, he asked you. you stopped spiralling just as he started his own, realising the effect your non verbal answer had on him, you simply said "I'll think about it." and tried to crack jokes along until the end of the night. because if nothing, then jean deserved some peace to balance out the turbulence that came with loving you.

in all honesty, you didn't know what you did. how you comitted the monsterous feat of getting him to love you. how he loved you in your entirety (or lack of it), how he woke up everyday and chose to love you despite everything that you took from him, drawing out his grumbling patience and gentleness because loving you meant waiting. loving you always, somehow, meant not loving you, because there was no way someone would know you, all your stories and opinions and ideas and still choose to love you.

living with you meant knowing your anatomy. not of your physical, breathing body, but the inside of your organs. it meant knowing that your stomach was filled with guilt, that your mouth could only utter whispers of people who once loved you and 'im sorries' to someone who won't know. it meant knowing that your hands were always aching to be held, that your skin was only ever warm when it was loved. it meant knowing that your chest was always heaving, yearning for a breath of relief that would never arrive. it meant knowing that your eyes always wandered off to the weighing scale kept at the back of your closet, always wandered off to find another pair of eyes that would look similar to yours. it meant knowing that your hair was always knotted with the doubts your mouth would never ask. it meant knowing so much about you, about the grey matter in your brain and about what flowed through your veins was nothing but pure doubt and discomfort with the unholy temple that was your body, the temple without a god, the temple that noone went back to. a body without a home.

he wouldn't want to know. he shouldn't want to know, and more importantly, he wouldn't like finding out. it would either be too much or too little, and his fingers would cramp up with the effort it took for him to pry you open, only for no prize to be met with. besides, you were okay just talking to yourself, no matter how insane it sounded. you got through so many years being self-sufficient, right? you didn't know how to handle it, handle someone actually loving you without doubt. you had lived long enough without it. someone loving you was new, something you didn't have a map for, something you didn't have any precautions against.

you and jean slept together that night. in the same bed, breathing the same air, under the same covers. you didn't share the same sleep, however, as his mind made dreams and yours went on like an unfinished painting - a list of unfullfilled answers, no meanings, trying and failing to come together. you found yourself watching him breathe; just his chest moving up and down and up and down, your hands twiching to rest on top of his but you didn't know if that's where they'd belong. if his body would wake itself up because of your touch - everyone was always surprised by how cold your fingers were. you were used to it.

maybe living with him wouldn't be that bad, right? as he said, you already shared the same space to a point where the pair of you felt comfortable enough to not care if your hair was groomed perfectly or if the colours and patterns of your outfit were clashing. but would he like it? would he like just how much more comfortable you could get? just how much you could ask for? just how long you could lock yourself up in the bathroom and try to cry? would he like to know just how long you sometimes spent on your bed, refusing to get up because your heart felt too heavy for your chest? for when your heart felt like it could fall through your back, punch a hole through the ground and bury itself in the earth until it could somehow bonify and fossilize and archeologists would recognise, instantly, that it didn't belong there.

he'd leave. that was something you knew for a fact. your love wouldn't be wasted, ofcourse not, neither would the time, but maybe he'd leave feeling like he'd wasted himself at your expense. or maybe he wouldn't think about you at all.

your night was spent with your brain spiralling - thoughts about how you didn't know how to handle being loved the way he loved you, about how you probably never had a childhood best friend that was still in your life because the phases of your life weren't meant for anyone but yourself to see, about how much your hair fell due to the stress of distracting yourself from overwhelming sadness by studying and creating while also being only slightly average at it. you fell asleep thinking about how the abundance of being alone, to you, meant being not alone at all, because there was no differenciation of company and lonlieness because there hadnt been any company to remind you of the lonliness at all- your eyes had fluttered closed and breathing evened.

jean always wondered if you were hiding something from him. not in a bad way, not in the way where he couldn't say he loves you, but in the way where you'd hesitate. and if he didn't love you as much, he probably wouldn't have even noticed. but fortunately, he did know you. a little too well.

he knew how much you loved the crunchy autumn leaves, so much so that you would alter your paths just to crunch one under your boot, a smile of satisfaction gracing your face after hearing the noise it made. he knew how much your fingers would reach out for his. he knew how much you tried - with everything. he knew of your unsaid struggles, knew when and what made your mood sour. and he loved it, he loved the fact that he knew all of those thing but more importantly, loved that he loved them.

loving you felt like it was a built-in feature.

but despite all of this, he didn't know why. he didn't know why you were the way you were. he knew you tried, but he didn't know why. he knew you struggled, but didn't know why. and it was driving him crazy, especially after last night. he couldn't help himself, even if he could see you, again, trying to diffuse the situation with lighthearted jokes, he couldn't help but think a little too much.

did you not want to? jean had always been honest about how much he struggled with being either too much or too little, about how much the words hurled by his friends when he was young hurt him, about how much his love proved to be uncomfortable and silent and resigned. maybe his honesty was too much for you. maybe you didn't like the burdens he came with, maybe you didn't like knowing how much his father's absence had affected him, or about how much his previous partner altered the way he saw himself to a miserable extent. you hadn't asked for all of this, all of him, all of his parts. maybe you were getting sick of it.

or maybe, if Jean's knowledge about you served right, you were being hesitant again.

he swears he doesn't mind it. you not wanting to move in with him wasn't a problem, but he just wished he knew why. the whole day, the only thing on his mind was how he could feel less hesitant towards him, god, anyone but him. he knew, firsthand, how it felt being so overwhelmed by inconsequencial doubt where he was left with so many regrettable unanswered questions engraved into the palm of his hands because he kept them hidden in his fist for too long, where he wishes, prays, and hopes for an answer that he knows will never arrive even if he doesn't look for it.

there are many things jean wishes and prays and hopes for. you're not one of them. but only because you're here. he doesn't need any other wish to be fulfilled or prayer to be answered or hope to sparkle. you are, inadvertently, all of them. a love without doubt, a wish without a cost, a prayer without a sacrifice, a hope without desperation. you're all of them. you're everything.

but he knows that if he's hesitant this time, if he doesn't reach out to grab you, if he doesn't do something, no matter how desperate, he will most ceratinly feel a deeper regret than he has ever felt before. and yes he may be exxagerating it, but he doesn't care. he'd learnt not to care when he was with you - he's learnt to be comfortable with you and around you. he wants to tell you that it's okay if you don't want to move in with him because his home is wherever you would be, his home is his hand on your thigh, his home is watching you blink in thought, his home is the sound of your footsteps. his home is anywhere with you. you are the only person who has the right to know that.

he makes his familiar way over to your apartment. you're not home yet, sasha informs him with a sleepy voice and messed up hair, "but you can wait in their room." she says because everyone knows that you wouldn't mind him waiting in your room. including him.

he does your routine - the one he's seen you do countless of times when you enter your room - take off his coat and hang it on the back of your door where one of the hooks is kept empty for him, shoulder his bag off and put it down on the spot next to your desk, turn on the desk lamp and the night lamp because you refused to turn the overhead lights on, because "they are so hideous why would I want to turn them on," according to you, and then finally occupy the space on your bed, laying his back down and his hands resting on his stomach as he waited for you.

staring at the cracking paint on the ceiling of your bedroom, jean thinks. from his pending homework that he's mentally figuring out how to schedule to how he's going to conduct this new group project with people he has never talked to before to how is it already the second last year of University because it felt like the first day was yesterday, until finally his thoughts landed on you. of course it would always lead to you.

it started from him thinking about University, then about how he met you on the second day, seeing you in one of his classes, sitting diagonaly across him, how you conducted yourself, slipping your bag off and checking your phone. then it turned to him seeing you at the freshers party where he saw his now ex-partner with someone he knew he shouldve questioned more. how he stormed off of the party with half tears of sadness and half of anger, catching a glimpse of you in the corner of the room, looking kind of lost. he saw you multiple times after that but never talked to you. he saw you at an ice-cream parlor once. he wanted to talk to you, but Connie had loudly confirmed the tickets to this new concert, which took away Jean's attention from you. but then he was introduced to you by Marco, because of course it would be Marco who had the pleasure to befriend amazing people. he met you then, properly, when you introduced yourself, and he nodded at you with little regard.

jean shook his head with a little smile. he had been so stupid, that day. he barely looked in your direction as you got acquainted with Marco, Connie and sasha, but he didn't disregard the fact that you looked less lost than you were at the party.

you had a way of sticking around, jean found out after that. he didn't realise when you had slipped into his life, hiding in plain sight. one night he found himself awake the same time as you and the next, he found himself saving a seat for you in the class you shared with him. soon enough, you knew him as well as he knew you, and there was softness in the recognition your eyes held when they met with his. the same appreciation of his existence, something he hadn't felt before. he couldn't say that he knew you as well as the back of his hand, because really, he knew you like the back of your hand, because he'd looked at your hands more than he'd ever looked at his, noticing all the little creases and scars and veins and hairs. he knew what warmth they held, he'd felt it after your hands made their way into his while walking back to your dorm on a cold night. a night jean would never forget because he had frantically knocked on your door right after leaving you there, because his senses had finally worked and he had finally found out that he wanted to kiss you. and he did, and you kissed back, and jean swore he had never been happier even while he could hear sasha and Connie and Marco cheering for the both of you. he kissed your forehead as a goodnight that night. you were in his shirt.

you were his home before he even knew what his home was, before he could find out for himself. you became an answer with a question.

he sighed, hearing your footsteps make their way through the tiny apartment, saying a small "hi," to sasha who was sleeping on the couch. the door to your room swung open just as jean sat up, his weight resting on his forearms on your mattress. you didn't seem surprised that he was there, just flashing a smile at him before removing your bag and placing it down, and jean felt his heart flutter with comfort as your presence filled the room.

his eyes trailed you as you did the same thing he did a few moments ago, plopping yourself down right next to him. your breathing evened out with his as the two of you lay in silent comfort before jean spoke.

his voice was a low hum. the words were barely different, but you understood them anyway. "yknow you can talk to me about anything, right? even if it's sad or not funny or not...I don't know, not remarkable. you can say it. i won't laugh unless you want me to." he says. it's a flimsy promise, but you know his words hold a meaning that you can't quiet grasp.

his palm lays on top of the back of your hand.

he's warm. scarily so, because why would someone hold so much warmth towards you? more importantly, jean extended his hand without even meaning to, like muscle memory, which was, again, terrifying, because loving you as habitual purpose was scarier than you having to prove yourself for it.

your shoulders relax almost instantly; habitually and with purpose. was the purpose of it to not have a purpose at all? was the meaning of your being to not have any meaning at all? was it just to love despite it?

you wanted to do good. not in a special or overly remarkable way, because you knew you would never reach that mark because you never had, but in the way where you'd be recognized. in crowded rooms, you'd be sought out for because of your "goodness" - be it reliability, comfort, all the things you usually associated with jean. which was ironic, because noone who didn't know him like you did would ever think of jean in that way.

"i.." you say, trailing off. you want to say that you know, but it'd be a lie. it'd be a false promise, and jean didn't need that any more than he needed you. so you say, "I'll keep that in mind."

jean doesn't buy it. his hand squeezes yours, stubbornly. "no, i don't want you to keep that in mind, I want you to want to do it." he says. his head turns towards you, watching the side of your face with an expression you know better than anything. the slight furrow of his brows, slightest scowl on his face that was masked by a layer of genuine concern.

"what I mean is.... you don't have to be so hesitant with me." he says. you want to blink back surprise, except that it's not really surprising. he's seen you, more so than anyone ever has, so it's not surprising that he'd see if one day was affecting you worse than the other days. it makes you want to scream because you don't know how to deal with it.

you close your eyes as if that would help. it wasn't like you were good at running away from affection, mostly because you never needed to. if anything, you were used to running towards it, desperately, just trying. but here it was, now, the resolution of it all, of all of the aches and creakings of your deepest yearnings, yet you couldn't seem to look at it. look at him - at jean, your best friend, someone you'd do anything for - with eyes that matched his.

you sigh. there's a deep silence, and jean isn't anticipating anything. his hand is still on yours and he feels you squeeze it tightly, but he isn't going anywhere for you to hold on to him. even if he wasn't tethered to you, he'd want to stay by your side, without any precautions or promise of a fruitful result. he'd stay with you regardless.

he isn't waiting for you to say anything, because being with you feels more than adequate, like it's instinct, like his shoulders relaxing when it's just the two of you, or like that tingly feeling in his chest when you kiss his cheek after a long day.

but when you do speak, it's with resignation and certain grief. "i dont think you'll like me. if I... if we move in together, I think, realistically, you won't like it."

"how can you be so sure?" he asks. it's not a serious question, but he thinks it's a start. you're doing it, you're being less hesitant, and atleast that's somewhere to begin.

"i just am." you say, shrugging. but it's not a fact, atleast, it shouldn't be. it isn't to jean. he's rolling his eyes now, but he's not annoyed or digusted. "how?" he presses, because he knows there's more, there always had been with you.

"i get too much. and then too little. like none of it is ever just right. and I'm scared that you'll see it and...I don't know, get frustrated at my lack of everything." you say. there's truth in every word even though you desperately wish there wasn't. you're still hesitating, but it's less so. your hand is still in his, still squeezing it. it was predictable - something you found yourself relying on - the warmth of his palm and the way his hand would also engulf yours with the same echoing softness it always had. even if his fingers were calloused and a little rough, it didn't matter. they still held you the same.

he's clinging onto every word you're saying, every small explanation, every twitch of your eyebrows. he knows what's going to come, he knows there's going to be an admission of guilt coming on soon enough but he also knows, more importantly, that he'll be there to tell you that no, he does not regret loving you, and yes, he will keep doing it over and over and over again.

"I've never been... wanted like this. or like anything, I guess. and I'm so scared," you breathe in deeply, keeping your tears at bay. jean pushed himself onto his forearm, looking at you in a way you've never been looked at before. "I'm so scared of disappointing you because I think that's all I've ever done. that's all I know how to do." the box is open now, and it's not forced or pried with effort. jean has always known how to open it, you think, you just didn't let him. he does it now, with the same hands you find comfort in, the same gentleness that his eyes have always held for you.

you're crying. you don't have anything else to add to your statements, and they hang in the air as if waiting for you to complete them, expecting you to do something. but you don't and you can't and jean is holding you, his hands are at your sides and your nose is buried into his shoulder and you think the words and the expectations can wait for now, or for however long jean is willing to take care of you.

your shoulders shake. jean is whispering into your ear, asking you to breathe. he's saying it so kindly that you feel the need to comply, and when your lungs finally calm, he rewards you with a kiss on your forehead.

you think if how much of a liability all of this is. about how much you weigh in emotions when you're this open and vulnerable. not even like an open, unhealing wound, but more like that feeling you get when you finally decide to read an unread text message that had been sitting there for a month, but you're the person who both sent the text and also the one replying to it and also the one who was watching it unfold. you caused this, you were the only one who was replying, and you were also the witness to all of this.

but now jean was here. it was unusal and strange - someone being there, actually, physically and mentally present instead of those placating "you'll get over its" that were repeated to you by the few people you decided to open up to.

the two of you are silent now, only broken up by deep, almost heaving breaths from you, something you wish you would stop doing. instead of you digging your nails into your palms like all the other times, your nails are clinging onto jeans clothes, and he doesn't seem to mind. instead of it being your blankets like all the other times, it was Jean's soft heat wrapped around you, moving with each breath you took until your chest didn't feel as heavy anymore.

"i know." he says, finally. he doesn't expect you to answer, ofcourse, but he knows you're listening because you shift slightly in his arms. "i know...too well, what it's like. i know that moving in means more to you than it means to people in general. i know that it's not even about moving in together. i.." he's being hesitant. finding the right words, but for once, Jean's happy about this trait of his. he's glad he rethinks decisions and the next time when he tries again, he's more sure of it. hes sure that he loves you, hes sure that he wasn't made to love you but he grew into it because there's that choosing again, the fact that yes, he did probably have a choice, but he would never even consider it. he doesn't want to consider it and maybe that's more important than there even being a choice. he wishes he could put it into words that would make sense.

instead, he opts to say, "I am so sorry you had to think all of this all alone for so long. but I'm...I'm here now. i know that won't solve everything instantly, ofcourse it won't, but I will be here until it will. i will wait."

there's promise in his voice, a conviction that you hadn't heard before. you trust him, you always have, but you don't know if you trust yourself with this. you don't trust yourself to be someone he loves. he's quick to quiet your concerns after yet another peck on your forehead.

"but don't you think I take too much?" you ask. its doubtful, the steps you're taking on the usually thick ice that has turned too thin too fast. you're afraid you're going to offend him, but you stand no chance against Jean's all-knowing sigh. it's not a tired sound, not one anyone gives before they're about to give up. you're not sure what kind of sigh it is, but jean doesn't let you figure it out for yourself because he's answering.

the ice turns into concrete. he's become your footing, the reason you're still standing and not under numerous feet of cold water. "i dont think you're taking. your....your love doesn't ask to take. you love despite everything, not because of it. everyone, including me, focuses on how to be loved, on how to be a perfect image that probably won't last for too long, but you..... you focus on shaping your love, the love you give. i dont know if you've noticed it, but you do. you don't take too much, you give without expectations. you give with hope. it's beautiful." he pauses. "you're beautiful." he says. he's not looking anywhere else but your eyes that are welling up with familiar tears.

you suck in a breath. "im not used to sweet words, jean," you say, the breath you held releasing with a bittersweet smile. "i dont know how to handle all of this love you're giving me. i think... i think you love me too much." another tear down your cheek and onto the mattress. jean wipes away it's remnants.

"i dont love you nearly enough." he says with the same laugh you had given him, "but you'll grow into it. just like how you grew into everything else, you'll grow into being loved. i grew into it too," he says. his forehead touches yours. the proximity makes you shiver. "i grew into just how much you love me. and I wanna keep growing into it because I love loving you. i love you loving me, as selfish as it sounds."

you take a moment to register his words. yes, you weren't used to being so vehemently and stubbornly loved and taken care of, but you could. you could get used to it, get used to crying in your beloved's arms, being fed spoonfuls of carefully heated up soup that would settle into your belly, being looked at for more than a split second. you couldn't fathom it now, sure, only because you could've never believed it before, but that could change. you could grow into loving love, into accepting it just as freely as you had given it.

jean wasn't holding you with a death grip because he knew that you wouldn't leave, atleast, he didn'tanymore. he would've done it, he had all the reasons to. if he were still fifeteen, he would've thought that he had to come beg and cling on to love to make it stay. he had to do something spectacular, something entirely not himself in order to prove that he was atleast worth giving a try but with you...he didn't have to beg. he didn't even have to ask. for a while it felt undeserved, all of this care you were giving his somehow beating heart, all of this ointment you were providing to his broken bones, but he somehow, miraculously, grew into it, because he let you in. he let you see him with the eyes that would rival the ones he was sure the gods had, he let you see him and all his unknown and unsaid sins and let you love him anyway because you wanted to, because you didn't see something in him - a potential of something greater - but you saw him as he was. as he is. and nothing in your smile changed. and if you could do that, then he'd be damned if he didn't love you the same.

no words were said after that, only Jean's heartbeat mingling with your own in your ear. both of your eyes were closed, his hands relaxed on your back, your chest no longer heaving, commanding you to pay attention to it.

you fell asleep in the silence of promise.

---

the promise continued even a week later, turning into two, turning into four, wherein jean kept loving you despite and because of, unafraid and unwavering and for the first time, without any hesitance.

you were keeping up on your promise too. trying to accept it - all of this affection, his affection - without hesitance. it was hard but mundane things usually are and you continued to grow and mend and try, above all else, which was more than jean hoped for.

he's passing you the brush he had slathered the perfect amount of toothpaste on, slipping into the comfort of the cool night warmed by the heat of your previously taken shower in your bathroom. you smile at him as a thanks, and he nods as a welcome, and no words are spoken. no words need to be spoken, and his right hand makes its way to the small of your back, his left brushing his teeth as you start brushing yours and you think that maybe everything is uncertain. everything always has been and always will be, and loving someone has always been uncertain, too. being loved has always come with doubt and guilt and shame. but the only difference was that now, both of you hoped. you hoped that everything would be alright in the end, jean hoped that he'd get to share the same bed as you in the end.

hope was flimsy and hopeless, too optimistic, but now it served as something you both shared. the shared sentiment of hoping that you'd have eachother till the end was more important than the uncertainty. it meant that both of you would keep trying. you don't need to be sitting, waiting patiently and hopelessly at the same crossroad now, because Jean's hand is on the small of your back, the watch on his wrist is still and unticking, and you're walking down the same road with the same landmarks and the same gravel because you want to. you've moved from your old spot on the pavement because you want to. you're learning how to love the sound of your own footsteps, how to love the action of one foot infront of the other, and the best part is, Jean's learning too.

loving isn't a reciprocal or a transaction or a grand 'aha!' it's an act of hope. hoping they'll see you the same. hoping they'll have the same hopes as you. hoping they'll want to be loved by you, because hope doesn't require anything grand, hoping doesn't require a god to pray to or a cost to pay. it requires soft, undettered, unsaid patience. something jean, persistently, had. something you, stubbornly, held.

you paused from brushing your teeth to look at your love. you were wearing his old t-shirt that had faint stains of ink and old paint on it, and he was donning the headband you had owned for years to keep his hair out of his face. he glances at you through the mirror, then turns to you, nodding to you, eyebrows arching in a question.

you spit out the toothpaste into the sink. looking back to him, you say, with all the conviction and hope you can muster up, "I want to move in with you."

jeans mouth turns upwards, still full of toothpaste. he doesn't say anything. he doesn't need to say anything.

everything's already been said, already been understood.

because he knows you. and he couldn't be more happier to.

(when you pick the curtains for your new home, you are held up by jean, who's hands grasp the ladder you're on. you're looking down on him after the work is done and he's smiling, and you're smiling, and at night you're using the same stove to make the same dinner that the two of you will share along with some old wine and old stories. he holds you when you fall asleep, and your arms are around his torso as he snores softly. your love is stored in the blood of his veins. his love is stored in the palm of your hands, and even if you don't hold it, it still stays there, unmoving, growing, attached.)

✿

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x you #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #jean kirschtein

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desceros · 8 days

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hello! so new writer here, I'm just starting out with writing x readers, but I'm having a bit of trouble. I saw in a previous post that when you are reading a fic marked x reader, you want it to actually be an x reader, and (as much as possible) not be an oc from the writer. And I agreed with that and want to try to make my reader self-insertable for everyone. the only problem is that I'm not sure how much I can have set opinions for them and have things up in the air. You've written a lot, so I was hoping you'd have some advice? If not that's totally fine. I appreciate you and your writing 🫶 hope you're having a good day!!

hmm well what i Specifically meant by that was when you have someone who has a fic that is written in the first person or third person with a named character who has a physical description, but they've tagged it as "reader-insert". to me, that's not a reader insert. that's an oc, and your fic is incorrectly tagged.

to me, a reader-insert fic is very specifically a fic in the second person without a name or physical description as much as possible. which isn't to say that oc fics are bad!! i write them myself in other fandoms. i just... don't really like reading oc fics for fandoms where my brain has decided This Is A Reader-Insert Fandom. Nod Nod.

so there is a delicate art to writing second-person fics with the intent of having it function as a reader-insert. the balance between giving enough flavor to have it be compelling vs so much that a reader can't comfortably put themselves in an insert-chan's shoes is actually a real passion of mine!! it's one that is kind of... something that you eventually get a Feel for after writing them for a while.

that said, here are some little tricks and whatnot so hopefully you can shortcut things a little. also, obvious warning since you're asking desceros dot com for writing advice, but this is a long post:

first, embrace the fact that you're going to exclude some people. no matter how bland and empty you make an insert-chan, you're going to exclude someone. and that's okay! if you try to cast Too wide a net, you're going to have a boring, bland insert-chan, and that's not going to make Anyone happy. still, there are a few things that i keep in mind since i want to appeal a broader audience: 1. try to be mindful of race coding, and avoid it. very specifically, describing hair (length, texture, care, etc.) and blushing or general discoloration of skin besides bruising are both something i avoid. i don't describe someone's night routine beyond, say, taking a shower, putting on lotion, and brushing teeth. this allows for black readers to more easily read your fics, which is something i'm particularly passionate about since i've had friends who feel excluded from the reader-insert community because they're black and that really makes me sad. 2. avoid describing favorite things, clothing, etc. little things that don't matter don't need to be described. does the reader need to know that your character is wearing a green sequin dress? or does it matter that they're wearing a pretty dress? 99 times out of 100, the latter suits the writing just fine and allows for a reader to picture what THEY think is a pretty dress. hell, unless i'm writing something that involves removing clothing, 9 times out of 10 i won't even mention what a reader is wearing, because it doesn't matter, and describing it gets in the way of someone's imagination. same thing with favorite foods, what someone is eating for breakfast. in symphony, viola-chan is famous for a baking cookies--but i don't specify what kind, and i won't. because my favorite cookie is different from someone else's, and the specifics don't matter. what matters is that they taste comforting, and everyone else likes them a lot, too. 3. avoid physical descriptions where possible. as i said before, i typically don't mention hair at all. instead of having someone run their hands through your hair, i have them stroke your nape. same basic touch, but one allows for short-haired readers or curly-haired readers to insert easily, one doesn't. i don't mention an insert-chan's size or height, other than a relative "you're shorter than donnie" or "leo's bicep is so much bigger than yours." i try to avoid weight-coding as much as possible so that fat readers can feel just as welcome as very skinny readers. that stuff just doesn't matter, and so cutting it out broadens how many people can read and feel represented.

4. keep unimportant details vague. for example, in a lot of my fics, the insert-chan has a family, but communication with them isn't mentioned. the status of the family or its makeup isn't important. a lot of writers will tell you to kill them off for convenience sake (which i do sometimes write inserts with dead families), but to me this is just lazy. you can have an insert-chan with a family. but instead of showing their relationship with the family, show how that relationship has shaped the insert-chan's personality. for example, in the latest fic i wrote, infinite singularity, the insert-chan's family is alive and well, but they're distant. not only does this mean, yay, i don't have to define what that family is--but it also allows me to show that piercing-chan avoids pain, emotional as well as physical. now i don't have to say you don't like pain. i can show it. and that always makes for more powerful writing.

so that's how you keep things broad. but there's a flip side to this, which is "how do i make an insert-chan compelling without any details?!" and the answer here is, well, add details!! which, hey, didn't we just say to eliminate details? to which i'd say, yes, Except for the Ones You Need.

1. give your insert-chan something they like to Do. whether this is a hobby or a career, this one has several functions in your story. one, it gives you something on which you can hinge characterization. for example, in my fic electromigration, that insert-chan likes camping. now i can have conversations about it, have an excuse for you to know how to do things camping-related, etc. it propels the plot forward. and two, it gives your insert-chan something interesting, which is the secret to a good character. you don't want to go too overboard on this, since again we don't want to overload the insert-chan with things that aren't helpful, but one, maybe two hobbies, or a job, makes them rounder and makes the fic more enjoyable to read.

2. give your insert-chan a personality dot dot dot carefully. now this one sounds weird. "don't i want to have a blank canvas onto which people can put themselves?" well, kind of, but really, no. that's how you get a bland character that's so boring no one wants to read your fics. and it doesn't even have to be a mild personality! in my fic goldilocks, that insert-chan has a Very strong personaity, such that i've even gotten requests for a chef-chan/reader fic. but because i've stripped away all of the other identifying things, it can still read as an insert-character without being an oc. that said, this is a tricky one. the more personality you give, the more people you alienate. but also, the less personality you give, the less interesting the fic. it's a delicate balance, and one you'll figure out eventually as you write more and read more.

3. give your insert-chan a story. this one is one that is more relevant for longer fics, but is still helpful to keep in mind for shorter fics. what i mean is, okay. you're writing a reader-insert. but for a moment, treat it like an oc. where did they come from? how did they get to new york? what personality arc do you want them to have over your plot? are they going to change, and if so, how? for this, let's look at my fic amaranthine. the history is vague enough that it doesn't impede a reader's imagination, but there are enough details that you Feel like there is a story that was happening before, and you've dropped in at this point to ride along with these people before you leave them to go on their way again. things like being best friends with raph after he found you drunkenly crying on the sidewalk. things like leo having known you and donnie were gonna be a mess when you got together. things like splinter always loving to drink tea with you. these are small details that make the world feel rich, but not so much that it's impossible for a reader to build their own narrative around it.

anyway, these are just some broad tips, and i hope you found them useful!! my main, tldr thing i'd say is just to write. it's going to take practice. writing in general is hard, writing something new is Really hard, writing something new and being picky about how you want it to come out is REALLY REALLY hard. so be kind to yourself, and remember that this is supposed to be fun. don't fret, don't get stressed, just take it cool. maybe write a few that you don't publish, just so you can get the voice under your fingers and take some of the pressure of Oh God People Are Going To Read This off your shoulders. i always do that when i enter a new fandom, and it's soooo helpful.

good luck, and let me know if you have any specific questions! :D

#ask tag #writing tag #breaking news: sam desceros writes a fucking dissertation; no one is surprised

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lahazywriter · 9 months

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Singing My Sorrows (Reboot Wally x Reader)

A/N: This is part 2, to my previous (Reboot Wally x Reader). The character belongs to @bloodrediscream and some of the scenes are based off her artwork. Love your work! You're amazing. There are multiple POV's in this.

I chugged another shot down as tears spilled down my face. How could he do this to me? We spent 2 years together and he cheats on me! After everything I've done for him, the time I put into our relationship. I call over the bartender and ask for another shot. He slides one over to me, as soon as it touched my fingers I down it quickly. The alcohol burned my throat while my tears stained my cheeks. I bit my lips holding back anymore weeps. A soft sigh was made in front of me forcing me to look up at my server.

"You're going to drink me out of business if you keep this up." The bartender, Luka smiled down at me. He handed me a glass of water and some tissues. "Call it hindsight. but I knew you were too good for him."

I scoffed at the comment. "Yeah right." I take the water he offered me and slowly sipped on it. Luka has always been there for me. We've known each other since middle school, and I helped him open this place up once I graduated college. "Luka why haven't we gotten together? We've been friends together for so long it wouldn't even make a difference."

Luka gently patted me on the head. "Well, my sweet (Y/n) to put it simply. I'm very very gay."

My eyes welled up again and I face planted into the bar. My fist banging the painted wood. "It's not fair, I just want to be happy!" I looked up and picked up my shot glass giving it a little wiggle towards him. "Just give me the bottle."

Luka rolled his eyes at me but didn't argue. He had my card on file anyways, and I had more than enough money to pay for it. I already knew I was already nearing my limit so the bottle was more or less for show. I pulled out my phone and began looking through my contacts. I found my ex-boyfriend's number and proceeded to block then delete his number from my phone. He had been on there long enough. I went through all the pictures of us and deleted them. My heart felt heavy and my brain was dizzy. I hated feeling this way. I don't want to be sad anymore. I looked at the stage where the band was playing and then noticed the nearly empty crowd. I checked my phone for the time, it was almost 2AM. I glided my hands over my hair pushing it back and resting my hands on the back of my neck. Luka came back over to me cleaning a glass.

"Hey, I'm gonna close up soon. If you wait for me, I'll take you home."

I shook my head and tried to get up. "No. You've been making googly eyes at the drummer all night. I'm not cock-blocking your one night stand." Luka chuckled.

"I would rather you safe than me getting laid. Do you at least have someone to call to come get you?"

A small smile came onto my lips. At least someone cared about me. I looked through my phone contacts, scrolling through all the familiar names. Everyone I knew was either out of state or too far away. As I scrolled to the bottom of my contact page I noticed the saved number that I had yet to call. It had been 2 weeks since the meet and greet with the famed Welcome Home star, we had exchanged a few texts back and forth but nothing too meaningful. I clicked on his contact photo and looked at my autographed picture of him. I wondered if he was awake. The idea quickly left my mind when my phone was suddenly grabbed out of my hands. I quickly stood up to grab for it but my body failed me due to the alcohol.

"Does someone have a celebrity crush?" I felt warmth come to my face as I tried to regain my balance. "Ha that's too cute, he gave you his number on his autograph."

I reached for the phone again and Luka took a step back, the bar getting in my way. "Luka give it back please."

Luka looked at me and then back at the phone before giving me a knowing smile. "Oh you even texted him a little. Damn, girl you gotta work on your flirting. Sweetheart you've been single for how long?" He counted on his fingers and held them out to me. "2 weeks, and when did you meet this guy?"

I covered my face not wanting to answer. "The day I found out he was cheating on me." Luka nodded still holding my phone hostage.

"Well, maybe he can pick you up. It'll be good bonding time."

"Luka no, do not call him. If you press that button I promise you, I will throw a stool at you."

Luka looked at me with an evil grin in his eyes not caring about my promised threat. My eyes widened as I watched him slowly move his finger to the green call button on my phone. I began to raise a stool of the ground when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked behind me and saw the guitarist from the band, Mr. Romeo. He was an older gentleman, probably in his 50s who got roped into helping his grandson, the bassist. I remember when they first came into the bar and asked Luka for a gig, promising to bring in a crowd for the experience. Luka offered to pay them because of how good they turned out to be, but they all argued and just asked for free drinks and food.

"Hey, Mr. Romeo do you need something." I put the chair that I had begun to lift back on the ground.

"Would you mind doing some vocals with us Ms. (Y/n)? You know my grandson is always too nervous to ask you." He nudged me a little while giving his eyebrows a wiggle. A nervous smile came onto my lips.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Romeo I don't think I can. I've been drinking all night and I can barely walk straight. It wouldn'-"

Mr. Romeo shushed me and looked at the bar. He gave Luka a knowing look while putting his hand out. Luka slid him the bottle of Tequila I had been drinking out of. He grabbed my hand and placed the bottle in it with a big smile. Mr. Romeo went behind me and started gently pushing me towards the stage. "Nonsense, I know when you're drunk. Take a shot for every song and sing your sorrows. It'll be fun. I promise."

I rolled my eyes but stopped resisting and walked to the stage with him. I looked at the clock on one of the walls and internally sighed. At least the bar was about to close.

"You know I have a lag between my drinks."

Mr. Romeo just smiled ignoring my words as we walked up together. I sat the bottle of Tequila and my glass on the stool that was in the middle of the stage. I poured the liquid into my glass and quickly downed it as the music started playing. I felt my thoughts disappear and any doubts I had about coming up here. My nerves didn't exist as there was no one here to judge me and nobody I wanted to impress. The band started playing a generic pop song and as requested I sang the lyrics. Mr. Romeo was right, this was a fun and making me feel a little better. I began to move body and sway to the music, careful not trip over myself. The alcohol brought my voice out. I didn't care if it was terrible, off pitch or anything. I was too busy having fun to care.

~(o3o)~

Luca looked onto the stage with a bright smile on his face. He was happy you were doing something you enjoyed, even if you resisted at first. He did end up calling Wally as soon as you were on the stage, however he didn't answer. To his surprise, Wally called back shortly after. Luka wore a shit eating grin as he answered the call with no care of misunderstandings.

"(Y/n)'s phone how may I help you?" Luka spoke with a high tone customer serivce voice. He looked at you on the stage dancing, and bit back his excitement not wanting it to leak over the phone.

"Who is this? Where is (Y/n)?" Luka was surprised at how silky this man's voice was. Luka placed his elbows on bar, leaning his weight on them as he tried to picture the face Wally was making. Luka cleared his throat before speaking.

"Hi, this is Wally right?"

"Yes it is."

"Great! I'm a friend of (Y/n)'s."

"Uh-huh, that still doesn't explain why you have her phone. Where is she?" The voice sounded almost threatening, it sent a chill down Luka's spine. He shivered as if his body actually felt the cool feeling from Wally's tone.

"Well you see, (Y/n) is currently on stage singing and she needs someone to take her home as she is very drunk. I was wondering if you could do that for me?" A moment of silence went by before Wally spoke again.

"I'll come for her. Send me the address." The call ended as quickly as it started. It was sudden but Luka didn't mind, he shrugged and placed your phone in his pocket. He'd give it back to you once you were done enjoying yourself. He watched as you sang your heart out to these old and new pop songs. You always say you're never gonna go up on stage, but yet everytime you're up there you end up having the time of your life. Luka chuckled to himself while shaking his head. He moved to the tables of his usual late crowd and called cabs for everyone that was still here. The bar quickly became empty and it was just him, you, and the band left. He switched the sign to closed and went back to wiping down the tables.

The door to the bar opened, the sound of the bell causing Luka to look up. He saw a man on the shorter side with deep blue hair messily styled. He wore a white fitted t-shirt and black pants. His pants were accessorized with a maroon belt that bore a cute yellow smiley face on the buckle. It oddly tied the whole outfit together. If Luka wasn't helping you out he would've definitely tried his luck with who he assumed was Wally. Taking a seat at the bar Wally looked at Luka allowing him to see his jet black eyelids. He could understand why you liked him. He was hot. Luka fished for your phone from his pocket and quickly handed it off to the man.

"Here, so she doesn't forget it." Wally took the phone putting it in one of his pockets. Luka leaned towards Wally and pointed at you on the stage. "I give her 5 minutes before all the alcohol starts kicking in."

Wally irked an eyebrow. "Does she have a high tolerance or something?"

Luka laughed and shook his head. "Gods no. She has a very big lag though. She can start at 9 and it won't hit her until midnight. However, she's very good about keeping up with it so she doesn't get wasted."

Wally gave a knowing nod as he followed your movements on the stage. You looked sober from the way you were effortless moving on the stage and singing to the music. He locked eyes with you and gave you a small smile while waving. "She's pretty good."

Luka smiled placing a glass of water in front of Wally. "You should hear her when she's sober." Wally took the glass and took a sip. He suddenly began to choke on the water as he watched you take a pirate swig from a tequila bottle. He looked at Luka with a confused but amused look. Luka face palmed while pinching in-between his eyebrows.

After what felt like an forever, Mr. Romeo finally said last song. I felt relief flood my bones as I could finally take a break. I looked around the room and noticed a new figure sitting at the bar. My palms began to feel clammy as the figure smiled and waved towards me. My eyes widened as I recognized who it was. Before I could run off the stage, I felt a gentle nudge towards the stool. I looked behind me at Mr. Romeo who just shrugged and pointed at my mic. I looked at my glass that I hadn't refiled since the first song and instead went straight for the half full bottle. I took a huge swig of it before sitting on a stool in the middle of the stage. A familiar break up song started to play, but only one thought played in my mind on repeat. I'm going to kill Luca.

I steadily sat down in my chair as the song played. It was a fairly new break up song but man did it speak to me. I sang each and every note as right as I could. I made sure not to miss any lyrics and to stay on beat with the band. I looked behind me and Mr. Romeo and the rest of the crew were completely lost in the music they were making. As the noise died down so, did my voice and the song came to an end. There was a few claps from the only 2 people in the bar, I took a small curtsey and quickly went to exit the stage. I waved my goodbyes to Mr. Romeo and his group and headed for the stairs, not wanting to be in the way of packing up their equipment. Walking down the stairs proved to be a difficult challenge as that last drink had completely thrown me off balance. I felt my mind turn into mush, and slowly succumbed to the liquid poison. I tried to grab the handle but completely missed. I felt my knees buckle. I was going to fall, but before I could crash down the steps a pair of arms caught me.

"Nice song, you sang it like you wrote it." I looked down to see Wally staring at me with his sly grin and half lidded eyes.

I felt my face flush. I wanted to speak but no words came out. Wally held one of my hands as he helped me down the stairs, he wrapped his other arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer allowing me to lean my weight on him. I muttered a low thank you as he brought me back to my seat at the bar. Luka gave me a thumbs up as he poured me some more water. I pushed it away from me, letting the alcohol control my actions. Wally gently placed his hands over mine as he moved it to grasp the glass.

"Drink some water, and then I'll take you home."

I shook my head, and threw my hands in the air breaking our contact. "Never!" I giggle escaped from my lips as I stretched my arms into the air. I got up from my seat and pushed myself up to sit on the bar table. I crossed my legs and swung them from the edge as I hummed a tune. I felt a finger poke me in the back, I tilted my head back and looked at Luka. I felt my elbows buckle as I leaned backwards. Luka placed a hand on the edge of my back and gave me a gentle push foward. My body didn't resist and went with the motion.

"You're drunk go home."

"Am not. I am perfect."

Wally chuckled at my response and moved in front of me. He placed himself directly in line with my crossed legs, placing his arms by my sides caging me between them. Luka cleared his throat and said something about going into the back. I didn't really focus on it as my attention was drawn into Wally's eyes. They were a beautiful lilac color. I felt as if I would drown in them if I looked for any longer. I moved my hands from my sides and slowly placed them on Wally's cheeks. I squished his face in between my palms.

"Your eyes are so pretty, I feel like I'm being hypnotized."

"Can I hypnotise you to go home?" Wally gave me a small smile and placed his hands on my wrists. He cocked his neck to the side and gave me a concerned look. "How long have been crying for?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I moved my hands down from Wally's face and wrapped my arms around his neck. I pulled myself towards him, and leaned down placing my head in the crook of his neck. I just shook my head instead of responding to the questions. I felt my body losing itself to the warmth of his touch. I heard a chuckle as my eyes began to close.

~(-0-)~

Wally carefully lifted you up from the bar and felt you automatically wrap your legs around his waist, Wally fought back the smirk trying to sneak onto his lips. Luka came out just in time to see you off.

"Ah she became a backpack." Luka came up to Wally and gave your head a soft pat. He refocused his attention to the actor and handed him napkin with pen scribbled on it. He took it and shoved it in his pocket, careful not to move you too much.

"This is her address. It takes 15 minutes to walk there and even less to drive. Text me as soon as you get her home safely. My number is on her phone and she doesn't have a password." Luka's gaze turned serious as he spoke. "If you hurt her, I'll know. I will not hesitate to burn you to the ground. I don't care how cute you are."

Wally felt flattered and threatened at the same time. "Don't worry. She's safe with me."

Luka was correct, it took less that 15 minutes to drive to your place. Pulling up in your driveway, Wally looked at your sleeping face a smirk pulling at his lips. You were snuggled up with his jacket on you curled up against the passenger door. He pulled your phone out from his pocket, you had a cute background picture and no password. Swiping into your phone Wally texted Luka your status while also asking for the location of a spare key. Not a second went by before a response came in. Placing the phone back in his pocket, Wally got out of the car and focused on getting you into your home without waking you.

Setting you down on the couch, Wally fixed his jacket on you, covering your shoulders. You stirred and adjusted to the comfort of the cushions, but did not wake. Wally quietly moved away from you and headed into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and filled it with water. He sat on the edge of the couch cushion placing the water on your coffee table. He had to admit it, you were an adorable mess. He moved a piece of fallen hair, tucking it behind your ear. His thumb gently caressed your tear stained cheek. You let out a heavy sigh and a smile formed. Wally removed his hand and took out his phone. He took a picture of your sleeping demeanor and set it as your contact picture. He leaned back into your couch with crossed arms and began to close his eyes.

He'd leave in the morning, for now he wanted to stay in the comfort of your company.

#welcome home #bloodrediscream #reboot wally x reader #reboot wally #x reader #fluff

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