#singing again won't fix everything

[izzy-b-hands]

I will be forever grateful i can be on this new med. it's one a lot of folks also need and can struggle to have access to! It's important i be on it, especially if i start doing any vid collabs

(some of which, really, all of which, i unfortunately actually need to cancel that were in the preplanning stages, bc the election results have me wanting to wait and see how the general atmosphere of the country is before i agree to meet up with anyone. I feel bad for cancelling, but also i just can't know for sure how safe things are/might be going forward and I'd rather avoid the potential of. ya know. various not great things that could happen at a meet up, tho i would certainly hope they wouldn't. i don't feel like actually addressing them rn, u guys know what i mean)

That said, if the truvada initial side effects could fuck off asap would be so lovely. three weeks at worst, then they should be gone/much better or so i am told. really hope that's true bc losing my mornings to being dizzy and nauseous is Not Working for me lmao. im on week two, and now understand why my new doc said to call if i needed any 'cheerleading' and support to get thru the side effects, bc apparently she's done that for several ppl to make sure they actually make it thru the three weeks and keep on it (lovely of her!!)

[sorrespit]

Late nights ˚୨୧⋆｡˚

"You make the voices go quiet."

Rumi x Jinu

—

"This sucks," Rumi mutters to herself, scribbling out the new line for the tenth time. Her paper is a mess, dents and stains littering every inch of space.

It's gross.

The lyrics are usually Zoey's job. Actually, they're always Zoey's job. She's a natural.

But Rumi wants to try. Wants to contribute more than just her voice. All she does is show up, look all pretty, and sing. She could do more. She should do more.

Especially now.

She glances down at her arm, guilt twisting in her chest as she sees the patterns that decorate her skin. Mocking her. Taunting her. Reminding her of exactly what she is.

Rumi chews her lip, her eyes narrowing like her stare alone might will them away and fix everything.

"Careful. Might hurt yourself thinking so hard."

Rumi gasps, her eyes darting up toward her balcony door. Jinu. Of course.

She doesn't remember leaving the door open, but she can hardly care to recall whether or not she did when he's here right now. "It's rude not to knock, you' know?"

Jinu grins—that dizzying, cooked grin that she pretends to hate so much—and taps at the sliding door. "Happy?"

"It's a little too late now," Rumi scoffs, shifting in her bed as he saunters over to her like he owns the place. Like he owns her space. Maybe he does.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Rumi watches, brows quirked, as Jinu wordlessly sits at the foot of her bed.

He's quiet. Too quiet, but maybe he's just tired, so she adds, "You know you shouldn't be sneaking around like this."

She waits a beat, expecting something witty or playful, but Jinu only softens. His smile falters and is replaced with something more serious.

He reaches out. "Can I?"

Rumi blinks before nodding and slowly handing over her sheet. It's a little unnerving, just letting him see her work, but she hands it over anyway.

He skims them, a proud little smile pulling at his face. "These are good," he murmurs, the paper crinkling as he hands it back.

"Really?" Rumi can't help but preen.

Jinu shrugs. "Sure. Of what I can make of them, anyway. You erased a bunch. Why?"

"Noo. Don't change the subject. You haven't answered me." She leans back and gently nudges his leg with her foot. "You didn't sneak in just to tell me my lyrics were good."

Jinu glances up at her, his heart squeezing at the smile adorning her lips. It was both terrifying and comforting, how easily she could put him at ease. How... okay he felt when he was around her.

"Can I not just sneak in for the sake of it?"

"Nope."

Jinu sighs, but there's a subtle smile pulling at his lips. Of course Rumi won't let it go. Of course she prods. And of course, he tells her.

"You make the voices go quiet."

Her chest squeezes. And for a second, neither of them says anything. Don't move. Don't blink. Barely even breathe, like any sort of movement might break the moment.

But eventually, Jinu speaks up again. "I never liked my patterns."

Rumi nods. "You've mentioned."

His gaze drifts down to her arm, to the patterns that run along her skin. On him, they're everything he hates. A sick reminder of what he did.

But on her? On her, they're different. Special. Beautiful, even.

"Your patterns, though..." Jinu reaches out, carefully wrapping his hand around her arm and rubbing his thumb over the twisting lines. "They make me mind mine less."

"Really? That's funny."

Jinu's eyes shoot up. "Funny?"

He's almost offended, then Rumi continues, "I think the same about yours."

Jinu stares at her, lips parted. Then he laughs and shakes his head, his gaze drifting back to her arm. "Lead with that next time."

Rumi grins at the relieved little expression on his face as she sits up and shifts closer. She shouldn't. She knows she shouldn't. But she can't help it. Not after he was vulnerable with her.

"Especially the ones on your neck." Rumi reaches her hand out, fingers hovering inches away from his neck. She hesitates, her eyes flicking over to Jinu.

When he nods, and she gently reaches out and touches her fingers to the column of his throat.

"When the light catches them just right... They look really nice." She swallows hard, grudgingly easing her hand away. "Pretty."

"You think so?"

Rumi nods, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "I do."

Jinu hums low in his throat, his skin burning where she touched. Why did she stop? Should he stop?

He drew his hand back, his fingers twitching like they already missed the warmth of her arm.

"Can I stay a while?"

The question is so quiet and hesitant, Rumi almost doesn't hear it. But she does, and she can't help the way she moves closer. Her knees brush against his thigh, her paper long forgotten in her lap.

"You can stay," she says softly. "As long as you're quiet."

Jinu nods.

"Thank you."

"Don’t make me regret it.”

Jinu scoffs. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

—

@cafekitsune for divider!!

[liliacamethyst]

Sneak Peak Part V - Web of Eternal Dawn

“Drop the child, Miguel.” the figure warns.

With an unimpressed raise of his brow, Miguel retorts, “Go home, Miles.”

Gabriel, now more settled, looks up at Miguel with adoring eyes, already halfway back to sleep. But Miles’ persistent voice booms through the little room. "Miguel, step the fuck back from the baby, and let's settle this outside. NOW."

"Kid, this isn't a fight you wanna fight," Miguel warns, gently lowering the now sleeping Gabriel back into his crib.

But just as the situation seems to have reached a tense standoff, the door bursts open, revealing you, fully clad in your spider-suit, ready to fight, fury painted on every feature. Flashbacks of the past, filled with anger, pain, and fear, cloud your vision upon seeing Miguel bending over your son.

"Sunny, I can explain—" Miguel starts, but your  reaction is swift. With a well-aimed web, you pin him to the nearby wall, rendering him immobile. Miles, clearly taken aback by your rapid response, stammers, “He... uh... was trying to... take Gabriel again. I saw it?”

Miguel's eyes, though pinned, glitter dangerously. “Cut the crap, kid.”

You had heard enough, and you fired webs at his mouth, silencing him. Standing tall, you demand, “What the hell is going on?”

Your heart hammers against your ribcage, an overpowering nausea threatening to bring you to your knees. Not again, you beg internally, this can't be happening again. The biting sensation of deja vu feels like a punch to the gut. 

As if reading your panic, Miles lifts his hands in a placating gesture, but your focus narrows solely on your sleeping baby, peacefully oblivious to the tension in the room. Swiftly, you cross the distance to his crib, gently scooping him up, trying your hardest not to stir him. Every instinct screams at you to get away, to protect your child from the unpredictable scene.

You barely register Miles' words of apology or his attempt to follow, reacting instinctively by sending a web in his direction, narrowly missing him and instead encasing Miguel against the wall. With him momentarily restrained, you leave the room.

Miguel, however, almost effortlessly shrugs off the sticky restraints, ripping the webbing from his face. He's pissed, furious even, seething at the situation. Anger boils at the goddamn circumstances, but above all, his ire is directed at this noisy kid. Damn, Miles, can't he just go bother someone else? This isn't his fucking business. It's his mess to fix, his responsibility, and he needs to make things right. Why does Miles have to complicate things even more?

With a tension thick enough to cut, Miguel turns to Miles, "What do you want, kid?"

Miles, glares defiantly, his voice dripping with loathing. "You, gone. Either in some forsaken universe or dead."

Miguel sighs, running a hand down his face, his weariness evident. "Fine, do whatever you wish. Kill me, banish me, torture me. Whatever your little heart desires. Let me first make sure that they are safe. I won't fight you, Miles.”

Miles pauses, disbelief flashing across his face. "You serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Miguel retorts, his gaze piercing.

Miles takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "You're a monster, Miguel. Maybe not a murderer, but still a monster."

"I know what I am." Miguel admits, his voice breaking ever so slightly and without looking back leaving Miles speechless.

Miguel hesitated at the window, on the precipice of leaving. But something - be it fate, spider-sense, or sheer reckless longing - pulled him back. He silently treaded through the apartment, drawn to a soft melodic voice.

There, in the dim room, you stood. Without your mask, vulnerability framed your features, eyes closed, a cascade of hair down your shoulder.

 You swayed gently, singing a lullaby, with little Gabriel secure in your embrace, his breathing even and deep. This sight, so full of love and tenderness, tore through Miguel. It was a clear representation of everything he yearned for, of the life that slipped through his fingers, so vivid he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.

His heart ached, thinking of the life they could've shared, of waking up to this exact scene every day, of being a part of this little family. The regret was suffocating him in its weight.

You sensed him before you heard him, before you smelled his perfume, warm and woody with a hint of something spicy. He smelled like the shower gel he uses when you both took long showers, the walks you used to take in the woods on Earth 99, discussing plans for the HQ, but you just enjoyed holding his hand. He also smelled like your pillows after he disappeared in the morning, a scent tinged with abandonment. He smelled like a thousand things you couldn’t place, but foremost, he smelled like one thing, and you just hated that thought. Home. 

You finally broke the silence, your voice soft and wearied. "What are you doing here, Miguel?"

He swallowed, voice raw. "I needed to see if you were okay."

A sad smile played on your lips. "You're too late for that."

Ahhhh, you guys are amazing! Please share your thoughts, and don't hesitate to suggest how you'd like the story to end – I might just include it! Let's turn this into a group project. I was close to giving up on the story, feeling not good enough. I love writing and creating, but anxiety often gets the best of me. Your kind messages, (which yes, I read and cherish every single one) have helped immensely. I'm so grateful and want to return all the positivity back to you. Wish I could hug each of you! ☀️

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@vanillacoffeeology @calicoootalks @shine101 @mental-illness-is-my-friend @myhomethesea @janedah0e @st4rrlighttt @imnotyourbcbe @1lyyff @marsbars09 @migueloharaapologist2

[lizzy019]

Ok we have Johnny and Darry now we need a blurb of Soda when you're ovulating, and desperate to be touched.

~~~~~~~~~ 18+ ~~~~~~~~~~~🌿~~~~~~~~~~ 18+ ~~~~~~~~~~

Watching Soda button up the red flannel of his was something you'd come to appreciate over the span of how long you two were dating.

You were assisting him in rolling up his sleeves, trying to think of a proper way to tell him of your growing ovulation and its oncoming desires. Regardless of it, you folded up his other sleeve and smiled up at him, which made him smile back.

"Aw baby, you don't gotta worry. The Socs are long gone, they won't hurt us, okay? I'll be safe anyway, I got Steve with me." Sodapop did his best to assure you that he'd be safe, seeing the furrow in your brow.

You weren't scared, you just didn't wish to deal with injuries when he came back. You planned on having him when he came back from after work anyway, so what use would injuries have asides taking up time?

"Love you, Pepsi..." You hummed, lightly hugging your sweetheart.

Sodapop chuckled, kissing your head and wrapping his arms around you as well. His palms rubbed at your back reassuringly, making sure to soothe you.

"Love you too, baby." He responded before he ran out the door to go to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌿~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was pathetic.

You had put one of Sodapop's shirts on a pillow, humping away on it to milk out the pleasure you were oh so desperate for. Moans were flying off of your mouth and the bed creaked underneath your harsh movements.

You hadn't even heard the front door open and close, or the footsteps nearing the bedroom. It was only when the door was swung open that you had ceased your motions and looked at the doorway in fear.

"Baby? Are you tryna dirty my shirt?" Sodapop asked, drenched in a thin layer of sweat from work, cheeks pink from exertion of fixing cars and his hands a bit tainted with black car oil.

God, you wanted to pounce on him and strip him to nothing just to bounce on his cock and be his good baby.

"What? Of course not! I just... it's my ovulating week and I didn't want to burden you with it so I tried to find another way to solve it." You explained with the softest hint of guilt in your tone, a bit worried he'd be mad at you for staining one of his shirts with your arousal.

But he wasn't. Instead, he used the same shirt you dirtied in your plea for pleasure to clean off his hands, chucking the pillow down and replacing its position with his lap.

"You don't need to feel like you're burdenin' me, baby. Come on, just take what you need from me, alright?" Sodapop smiled up at you, his pretty little dimples making everything seem all the more worth its wait.

So with twitchy fingers, you fumbled with his belt until it finally came loose, and you pulled it open before tugging away at his jeans to get rid of them.

Once his cock was exposed to you, you pumped it a couple times to get it just hard enough to stick into your core. You were getting desperate and he could tell.

With a push of your hips, you were impaled onto his cock, but you didn't even try to take the time to adjust as you shamelessly rutted your hips against his. It was pathetic and filthy, and you would probably grow embarrassed if he ever brought this up again. But right now, none of that mattered when you were taking his cock.

You were singing moans and whimpers, a melody that Soda could get lost in. You were so pretty just bouncing on his dick like the desperate bitch you were, but he couldn't blame you. He'd been with enough women to know that ovulations weren't all that pretty sometimes.

It wasn't long until you came on his cock, writhing and twitching until you came down from your high. Even if it left Soda without his well-earned climax, he was just happy he could help. His boner would go away on its own.

"How was that, baby? You feelin' okay now?" He asked you so serenely, so calmly as he assisted you in pulling out to rest you onto the mattress once more.

You nodded dazedly, smiling as he tucked you in.

"Alright, I'm gonna go take a shower. You take a nap, yeah? I'll be back and I'll come rest with you." Sodapop smiled, kissing your forehead and rubbing your shoulder before he hurried off to go clean up.

Oh, you felt so loved being graced by Sodapop and his kindness. At least now you could rest happily.

[biblicallyaccuratefangirl]

☼ Asra headcanons: in the morning ☼

Wakes up all sleepy and bed headed, wearing comfy oversized clothes, to shuffle over to where you've gone and nuzzle into your neck, hugging your waist

Wants to be near you and touching your skin almost constantly, as if he needs to make up for lost time he spent sleeping

In reality, it's more so that he can hardly fathom that you're here with him, in his home, after sharing his bed— and seeing you in the morning so trustingly welcoming him into the vulnerability and domesticity of this disheveled, unpolished facet of life just fills his heart with more love than he can express

So, he tries to take in as much as he possibly can, relishing and treasuring these domestic moments with you

Being Asra's partner, you'd have to get used to his eyes fixed on you constantly. Especially in the morning. Each new day he begins with you by his side is one more day he falls in love with you all over again, and it's all he can do not to admire you with awe

Doesn't matter your body type— doesn't matter how messy your hair is when you wake up, or how tired your face is— he simply adores all of you. Every little curve, every little detail, every motion you make... he takes it all in with such affection, as if he'd spend every heartbeat away from you replaying these memories desperately

His favorite possible way to spend mornings with you is slowly waking up with coffee or tea, huddled up under a blanket at home with the windows open to hear the birds

Truthfully, it's this scenario that plays in his head most often when he's away from you for long periods of time. Apart from... other idle fantasies

Asra enjoys singing, but most often it's during moments like these— he'll hum softly, blissfully content with you leaning into him. But don't think he doesn't know what he's doing when you're snuggled up to his chest and can hear the deep, honey-smooth rumbling of his morning voice... he knows you too well for you to be able to hide the way he makes you melt

WILL tease you about it. Occasionally he'll leave it be, instead just smiling with amused affection. If he does tease you about it, though... it would easily be one of those instances where your next response redirects just how passionate the morning was about to be. He's a sucker for morning makeout sessions... Drowsy, sultry, lingering kisses? Asra does NOT need to be asked twice

Admittedly, the aforementioned scenario is most likely played out if you wake up at the same time. He wants to be as close as possible facing you, completely intertwined with you (legs, arms, hands in hair, everything). This all starts out entirely pure; simple and sweet affection and devotion. He'll shower you with half-asleep kisses, murmuring questions about how you slept. Needless to say, the mood can very easily be shifted...

He's somewhat of a morning person, especially with you in his life. Frequently you'll wake up to breakfast waiting on the nightstand, with Asra already back in bed close next to you. Acts of service are a close contender to physical affection for him, though he's glad to express his love in just about any form he can

Overall, every morning with Asra is a lovely one and you can rest assured you won't spend it feeling unappreciated <3

[sodapopkiss6]

Caleb LOVES the Lego movies, and Sylus LOVES the Lego batman movie. The two of them watch the movies together and sing along.

They also make time every week to watch Ninjago. And HEAR ME OUT they like to pretend they're the characters and will go to random places to do spinjitzu. They fight and everything.

MC: Hey Sy, wanna go out?

Sylus: Now's not a good time, kitten. I'm harnessing my inner green ninja 🥷🏻💚

MC: 💀 ok, have fun

MC: Caleb are you free today?

Caleb: Sorry pips :( I need to prove to this punk that I'm the green ninja 😤

MC: 😭? Ok gl

It starts to get a little out of hand...

You're baking in the kitchen when you begin to hear a lot of noise. Suddenly, a hole is made on the wall, and the two of them come through it. They're too focused on the fight to notice your panicked face and your warning.

"NINJAAA GOOO!" Caleb starts to spin fast. Creating a tornado in the room. Flour, cake batter, everything flies around, creating a mess.

"𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁"

Caleb instantly stops, frozen. He glances at Sylus, who's looking back at him. They are in so much trouble, they can feel it.

"Turn around and look at me, both of you"

They slowly turn around, looking at you guilty. You're covered head to toes with all sorts of ingredients.

"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨?! You can't play around like that in the house!"

"B-but," Caleb looks at you with puppy eyes. "It's his fault! He started it." he points at Sylus. "He said that my technique was weak and that I could never be the green ninja!"

Sylus doesn't respond, only smiling smugly.

"𝘌𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩! From now on, no more spinjitzu in the house, understood?"

The two avoid your eyes.

"Yes"

"Okay..."

You hear footsteps and turn around to see Zayne walk into the kitchen, brows furrowed.

"I heard a lot of noise...what happened?..."

He looks at the mess, the other two men, and then at you. You sigh and shake your head.

Sylus and Caleb avoid his questioning gaze. Making him sigh, too. "You two clean this up"

"And you," he lifts you up bridal style, "are coming with me to take a bath"

"But-" you look at the kitchen.

"They can take care of it, right boys?"

"Yes, don't worry sweetie, we'll clean up"

"Yeah, we're sorry pipsqueak"

"See? They've got it"

"Okay" you give in.

Zayne and you head to the bathroom while Sylus and Caleb stay back to clean.

When you're done with your bath and relaxing time with Zayne (😏🤭). You go to the kitchen to see it looking as if nothing happened.

"Hey pipsqueak" Caleb smiles awkwardly "we finished cleaning! And um... made you this"

He holds up a homemade cake, the same one you were working on.

"When?-How?"

"we checked and sent the twins to buy everything and made it while we cleaned." Sylus walks over to hug you. "we're really sorry, we were careless, and you could've gotten hurt"

"𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 forgive us." Caleb goes to hug you too."we won't do it again"

"You better not," you chuckle. "Thank you for apologizing and fixing everything"

The three of you talk and have cake. Later taking a slice to Zayne (he's busy in his office).

And yeah that's it 😋

(Btw this obvi for fun. It's not meant to be accurate or be viewed as putting any LI down)

[gotham-daydreams]

Honestly, in a situation like not [] where they aren't willing to physically hurt the reader but psychologically mess with them? It's fucked but at the same time I have too good of an imagination. When it comes to neglect there's so many aspects of it that could happen and even if I'm pissed I could keep my mouth shut to the point I feel numb.

I mean they can't change you or break you if you just stay in your own head after all? Lil stories in your head to keep you busy, unholy amount of hours spent sleeping. I don't care if I waste away if it means not having to deal with people who won't even listen or admit that it's gonna take time to undo trauma and won't take the proper steps to undo it.

They take things up a notch and limit food or start doing things that prevent you from sleeping? Do it, at least the hat man will be a better friend. Can't break what's not there, the batfam always has this mindset that so long as they get their way that they would do what's necessary but that's entirely because they are all too selfish to actually really respect how you feel. And no amount of bugging me or yelling at me or trying to get a rise out of me will change the fact I can just slip into my mind and ignore it all.

The only way I'd ever stop being in my head and not even wasting time on them is if they actually tried to be genuine in fixing things and admit they fucked up and are doing it out of guilt. Either put down your pride or stay with a reader who will gladly stay tucked away in the crevice of their brain in an imaginary field of flowers with whatever lil character they make to enjoy the time in their head <3

Anyways I love your series and can't wait for more!! Please take care and hydrate!!!

I do agree! Especially in this scenario where they’re way more unwilling to physically hurt the reader, because... well, they want to hear your music! Like a little songbird, just tucked away from the public eye, just for them to hear you sing...

It'll definitely get on their nerves, and some will probably crumble under the pressure - but those that don't aren't actually the ones you should be worried about. I mean, of course they'll try to do everything else they can, and at that point - its a contest of willpower and to see who can outlast the other (and spoiler, most of them will definitely lose), but some are definitely more stubborn than others. After all, their 'love' is spawned out of guilt, obligation, and a messy mix of things that's turned into this ugly beast of a thing they see as love - if you aren't willing to take it, then that's fine, but you definitely aren't getting anything until you do.

Though, again, at some point the time and treatment definitely begins to effect them too. And that’s... not good, especially when some of them are known for their resolve, will, and general ability to withstand so much crap despite not even being superhuman (even if in all honesty, compared to the average guy, they may as well be). Them being insane does not help with that fact.

They'll begin to consider things they wouldn't have even thought of before out of sheer desperation and need. They'll think about it, plan it out a little, and before they even know it - they're losing hours of sleep trying to find ways to actually execute it. Hell - some may even act impulsively, and just flat out do it without giving it a second thought. Because they can't. They can't think. They can't sleep. Not without you - not after another month, another week, another day, another hour, another second without you.

They need it. Need you. Need your warmth, your presence - to feel like they're doing something right, even when its so wrong. Even if they've left you damaged beyond repair, some still want to feel like they can fix you, put you back together... and what better way to feed that delusion then to hold you in their arms? To do all of these things with you... even if you're not mentally there?

At that point, they'd sacrifice never being able to hear your music from you to get that. To have that fabricated connection. They'd give up that one thing that's been keeping them from harming you physically, and go all out.

[Which... descriptions of losing limbs, and general gore under the cut, it's not pretty but not super detailed either? Yes, it's towards the reader. Yes the reader is awake. There is no cut away, but some dancing around using some phrases repeatedly. Consider yourself warned and advised. Even if it's just descriptions - the family isn't playing nice.]

Maybe they'd start small... just a leg, maybe two, not even a foot- your legs from the knee down are going indefinitely. Maybe even the whole thing if certain people do it impulsively, and aren't thinking - aside from the fact that they need you close, but they just have to get these things out of the way. To lessen your struggle, to reassure themselves you won't run, of course - after all, you can't run if they just... take away that option, right? It's for the best, they'd tell themselves, they need to do this. They have to. You gave them no other choice- and now... now they had to make a tough choice. They have to do this.

If it's done impulsively, it's messy. I guess not having a lot of experience cutting off limbs or disabling someone isn't going to make things easier, who knew, am I right? Taking lives (for some of them), and beating people up is one thing, but cutting off arms and legs? It's weird to think about until you're the one doing it, and in a frenzy no less.

Some of the more impulsive ones you really have to look out for, because if they do it then it is painful, and that is no exaggeration. As much as they're thinking about you, they also aren't at the same time - at least not you in the present as they're doing the removal. You'll pass out from pain, or just the visceral sight right before you witness your leg getting torn off. Real messy stuff. It's not subtle at all, they barely hide it - if they even try to allow you that luxury. If anything, you see too much of it. Either way, you're out like a light, and left with whatever you saw as nothing is left to the imagination. Unless your fucked up mind makes it worse, to which- a lot is left to the imagination as that nightmare of a scene is messed with and mixed in your head like a toddler left in the kitchen.

Of course, the family will take care of the messy outcome, and get you to another room and everything (after all, they have one too many spar ones), but, well, that won't change the reality of the situation, will it? Hell, get one of the more rough ones pissed off or just do something one of the more impulsive ones doesn't like, and you'll lose your arms, and depends on who does it - you'll lose them just as you lost your legs, and you'll get to watch... before you pass out, of course.

Maybe they'll get you things to help, like robotic limbs and such, though its not that great and doesn't make things easier. Not even a little. They'll be able to control everything you do, essentially, down to what you can even touch or interact with.

You'll feel more trapped then you ever have before, as even your body, every limb attached to your torso is theirs. Theirs to control. To mess with, and just like before, they'll take it away if you do something that makes them upset.

They'll leave you more than just defenseless.

[azrielbrainrot]

When Prayers Fall on Deaf Ears

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: For the first time in his life, Azriel is not ready to accept death.

Warnings: Death, All Hurt No Comfort

Word Count: 1500

Notes: I'm so sorry. I didn't proofread this so I'm sorry for that too.

How could the Mother be so cruel?

After centuries of walking this world alone, of throwing himself at dangerous missions and surviving multiple wars, how come when he finally found something worth living for, his life gets taken away?

Azriel can hear you anguish cries for help, screaming at Rhys to get a healer, can hear your reassurances that he's going to be okay, but the truth is he can barely feel your hands on him, can barely feel his body at all. He's taken several falls like this, but this pain is different. He knows better than to check, knowing he wouldn't be able to bear the sight, - probably wouldn't even be able to complete the movement on his own - but he knows his left wing was mostly ripped off, his arm and leg might be in similar ruined states. The realization that he'll never be able to take to the skies makes him close his eyes for a second, tears gathering in them.

Everything happened so quickly, he had barely reacted in time, sending up a shield around him at the same time Cassian did. He doesn't know what kind of magic that was, had never seen anything like it before, but he knows if it hadn't been for the shield, there wouldn't be any piece of his body left, and his brother would have met the same fate.

His shadows were completely silent, uncharacteristically so, unmoving as they lay under his body, but, even if they weren't singing to him, Azriel could feel them mourning, could feel them disconnect, no longer following his command. They had been with him for most of his life, and he hopes they know how grateful he is for them, for the way they stayed by his side, protecting him and those around him, and they remain until his last breath escapes his body. He truly couldn't have made it this long without them - they were part of his identity.

It's your frantic calls of his name that has him opening his eyes again, blinking a couple of times to try and focus on your beautiful face. This is probably the last time he'll be able to see it so he should enjoy it as much as possible. You send him a relieved look when you notice him watching your face, leaning closer until he can faintly feel your breath on his skin. “Rhys went to get Thesan, alright? You're going to be okay, Az,” you promise, struggling to keep your voice from failing while trying your hardest to choke back your tears, and he struggles to focus on the words, the sound reaching his ears as if he was under water.

He won't be okay, you both know that. No matter how good a healer is, there are some things that can't be helped. Sometimes they forget given their long lifetimes, but fae are still mortals. Everyone around him seems to have come to the same conclusion, but they're all unwilling to accept it, stubborn as they are. Gods, he's going to miss them so much. Azriel almost wants to tell you to call Rhys back, so he can see his brother one last time. No healer is going to be able to fix this anyway, not even Thesan. He's not sure if he can form the words though, even breathing is becoming too much to bear.

Trying his best to pay attention, Azriel tries to focus on his family - the people who have made his life worth living. He can hear the three Archeron sisters crying somewhere at his side, holding onto each other. They've all lost so much in their short lives, Azriel hates that he's going to add to their suffering. After a particularly loud sob escapes Feyre, he realizes his mental shields are probably down, making her privy to his thoughts, but he can't bring himself to care, not anymore.

Amren is studying his body a few steps behind you, staring at him with a conflicted look in her eyes, arms wrapped around herself. This might be the first time she sees someone she cares about die right before her eyes, as she watches on, unable to do a thing about it. Right next to her stands Mor, an uncharacteristically blank look on her face as she watches one of her bestfriends take his last breaths, shock seems to have taken hold of her. Emerie stands behind her, ready to comfort her. He couldn't see Cassian but he feels him kneeling right next to his head, can hear his choked breaths as he desperately tries to keep his tears from coming, can feel the familiar thrum of his power. He had also been injured, but it seems that Azriel had taken the worst of it, his brother would be alright.

And you. He doesn't even want to imagine how much pain he's going to bring you. You, who's trying so hard to be strong for him, to keep on a brave face and make him feel better in his last moments, even though you probably want nothing more than to curse the Mother and any deity responsible for this. If it had been the other way around, he's not so sure he would survive it, or that he would want to, but he knows you're more resilient than him, so much stronger, always have been.

None of you deserve this. To have your family ripped away from you like this. And he doesn't either, after suffering through so much, he knows he deserved a few more good years with you and his family by his side.

“I don't want to die,” the words escape him in a whisper before he has the chance to keep them down. The sobs that escape both you and Cassian almost make him want to take the words back, knowing he's going to give you guys enough pain as it is. Your hands raise to hold his face, bringing a smile to his lips even at a time like this.

He was almost surprised to see that he meant it. Azriel had never been afraid of death, would gladly do it to save the ones he loves, as he is doing now, but that had always been easier when he felt like he had nothing to lose. Aside from his friends and his mother - who he knows should be more than enough reason - Azriel had never truly felt fulfilled or content with his life. Throwing it all away would have been easier then, but now he had you.

He's been waiting for a love that would give his life purpose ever since he can remember, as pathetic as that may sound, and now that he finally met you, he's going to die without ever getting the chance to give you the ring he keeps stored on his nightstand. He had been waiting for the right time to give it to you, it seems like fate had other plans for him. He can only imagine what you will feel when you find the silver ring engraved with both of your initials.

A sudden pressure in the air tells Azriel his brother returned with Thesan. He feels a strange sort of relief at this, not because he thinks the healer can still help him, but because he didn't want to go without knowing Rhys was here as well. His heart seems to echo this sentiment, as he can hear it slow down with each painful breath he takes into his lungs.

Azriel uses his remaining strength to hold up his hand, trying to feel your skin against his rough palm one more time. He can't quite raise his arm high enough, the blood loss catching up to him, but you hold his hand in yours and hold it up to your cheek. You always knew what to do, what he was thinking.

“I love you,” he struggles out.

Your tears are flowing down your cheeks freely as you repeat the words back to him, having no choice but to resign yourself to your cruel fate. Rhys and Mor kneel at your side, the latter resting a hand on your shoulder, trying to give you as much comfort as she can, while Rhys stares at his brother, the normally striking purple not visible behind his tears.

As scared as he was, he could admit this wasn't so bad, dying surrounded by his family, surrounded by so much love. He feels comfort that the last thing he felt before everything turned cold was the warmth of your body against him. Enough so that it almost catches him by surprise, barely registering his shadows moving from his body to yours, covering your body the same way they've been covering him all these years, barely feels his arm drop from your face, his strength completely leaving his body until he can't hear anything, can't see anything as the world goes black, and the last thing he feels is your head falling on his chest as a wail of his name escapes you.

[aboutchriss]

Physiotherapy and coconut oil.

Just a thought on this

Pairing: idol!Chan x fem!reader.

Genre: fluff, crack maybe??, friends/co-workers to?

Warnings: make out session, half naked Chan?????, mention of handjob, handjob, mention of anger issues, dry humping, mention of food and alcohol, mention of dom!chan, sub!chan, softdom!reader, let me know if I miss something. DO NOT USE COCONUT OIL ON YOUR PRIVATE AREAS!!

Author note: we need to talk about this outfit, I know that I'm late but bro, look at him, his stupid boobs, and arms, and abs? I'm on my knees, hair in a ponytail, ready to do my job. why? because I'm a whore for this man, also his physiotherapist is lucky as fuck, I mean he or she or they can touch this man, without anything on...I’m too tired and lazy so not proofread

(the recipe of the pasta mentioned in the story is here especially for my vegetarian and lactose free friends 💅🏼)

Also fun fact: being a physiotherapist is my dream job and this makes me way too much delulu.

-✉️

I’m so insecure about my English, as I said it’s not my first language and I’m always scared to make mistakes or stuff like that, so if you find mistakes please let me know, I’ll be thankful and also my English will improve!

-✉️

As always requests are open!💘

A knock from the door of your little studio call your attention

“C’mon in, the door is open”

You say, closing your laptop to pay attention to him

A head covered with a black beanie and a smile with a pair of dimples appeared at your door.

“Hello, my beautiful, amazing wonderful y/n, the sun is shining, the birds are singing and-“

“What did you do?”

You cut him off

He close the door behind his back

“Let’s say that hypothetically I went to the gym”

He sits right in front of you

“Mh, you do it every day, what’s the problem?”

He giggles a little

“You know last time that we saw each other?”

He asks

“Yeah, umh Wednesday?”

“Mhmh, and what you did to me?”

“The-what? The usual massage? Back, neck, thigh, basically the whole body”

“Exactly, and you know that I was mad because of that little thing that I won't bring it up again?”

“Yes, what’s the problem Chan? I have a lot of things to do”

“Iwenttothegymrightafteroursession”

“Excuse me, what?”

You asked confused

“I-uh- don’t get mad please, you know that I love you, we are friends right? Your hair looks pretty today”

You look at him, raising your eyebrows waiting for the real answer

“I went to the gym, right after our session, and I lifted a couple weights, and umh- I heard a crack on my neck, but now everything hurts, so can you please fix me?”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

you raise your voice

“I’m sorry I was mad”

“Christopher”

You say

“Not the government name please, you scare the shit out of me when you call me ChRiStoPheR. And I know okay? You have all the rights to be mad at me, I’m sorry, but I was about to explode, my options were the gym or the big boss face”

“Take off your shirt”

You sight

“I love when you say that”

“Shut up, before I punch you in the face”

You say

“Rude”

He says

“Stupid”

You stand up and search on the little cabinet everything you need for the massage

“I’m sorry”

He looks at you

“It’s okay Chan. But when I tell you to rest after our sessions it’s because I mean it, it’s part of the healing process. Even Changbin listens to me, and you, more than me know that he’s a gym rat.”

“I know, I’m sorry I was just-“

“Overwhelmed?"

“Yes”

He says taking off his shirt

“You know that you can talk to me right? I’m not just here to fix y’all muscles, I’m a friend. You can call me, anytime, you say “y/n I had a bad day can we talk?”. 5 minutes walk and I’m at your dorm, and you know it Channie.”

Your tone is sweeter now

“It was three in the morning y/n, I- I didn’t want to wake you up, I’m a man, I can’t-“

“So sweet of you to think that I sleep at three. and Channie yes, you’re a man and you’re human and as a human you have emotions, it’s okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes or mad, sad, angry, emotionless, it’s totally fine, if you feel like you're about to explode than you need to talk"

He looks at you, silently

"you can call, or FaceTime me if you don't want me around, we don't need to talk about what's upsetting you, but you can't be alone with your thoughts"

"didn't know that you were this sweet you know?"

"I'm not sweet"

"mhmm, you're right you're more like a mom"

he smiles at you

“What? I’m younger than you”

“Meh, just a couple of years”

He says smiling

“C’mon, don’t stare at me like a little puppy, and put away the damn dimples, with those abs you look everything but cute”

“Oh yeah?”

“Shut up and lay on your stomach”

“Mhhhh, okay okay”

He lays down, giving a full view of his back, wider than when the two of you met, if you had him as a friend with benefits (for your studies of course) during your anatomy exam, you would probably have had the best score of the class.

As soon as your hands touch his back he twitches

“Ah fuck”

“I barely touched you”

You say

“Your hands are fucking cold y/n, where did you keep them inside the freezer?”

“God, you scared me. Don’t be a pussy, they will warm up, I promise”

You say touching him again

“Mhhhhh -he cries- usually you don’t have cold hands”

He says

“Because you’re the last one that I treat, I.N always get my cold hands, and he got used to it”

“Oh poor I.N, he-ah he has-ah to get through this”

“Stop whimpering”

“I’m not whimpering”

“Yes, you are”

“No, I’m-ah not”

“See, you’re a whimper man”

You say massaging the lower part of his back

"I'm not-ah-fuck"

"next time, if I say that you have to rest, go home, take a warm shower, eat something, and go to bed, you're lucky that you don't have a fever"

you slap his back

"aah what's wrong with you?"

"you're an asshole, and you act like a child"

you slap him again

"stop slapping me"

he says sitting down on the small massage bed

"no"

you slap him again

"oh my god stop it"

"no - you slap his chest - you know that you could've hurt your self huh? you and your stupid anger issues - you slap once again - what you were trying to gain to stupid bitch?"

"stop slapping me"

he says blocking your wrists

"I said I'm sorry, next time if I'll feel overwhelmed I'll call you okay? just bring soju with you"

"soju? wanna get drunk?"

you ask trying to escape from his grip

"fuck yes, I need to get drunk"

"I'll buy soju on my way home and you can come over okay?"

"you’re inviting me in your house?"

he asks, caressing your wrists with his thumb

"yeah, you know no boys around so we can talk freely, and I'll make dinner"

"mh...okay then"

he says smiling, showing once again his stupid dimples

"now, let me finish my job okay? go home, take a warm shower and then come over"

"okay mom"

"don't"

you try to hide a smile

"now lay down"

he stares at you

"please?"

you say, and this bitch lays down, just because you said please? fuck it's going to be looong night

"try not to whimper this time okay?"

you whisper near his hear

"I'll try, ma'am"

-

you just got out of the shower when you hear the doorbell

"SHIT, WAIT GIVE ME A SECOND"

you scream, trying to dress yourself as fast as you can, not thinking about who's your guest, but honestly you don't give a fuck, you're in your own house and it's summer, that's what you think trying to justify your shorts and tank top

"Hi Channie, I'm sorry I made you wait, come in"

"Oh, Hei no worries it's my fault, I should've texted you"

he says taking off his shoes before getting inside

"I wouldn't answered you, my phone died at work, and I was so late that the moment I came home, I prepared the sauce for the pasta and I jumped into the shower"

"no worries -he giggles- wanna help with dinner while you dry your hair?”

"oh no, stay away from my kitchen, set the table and open the red wine that you find in the counter"

"yes ma'am"

he says

"damn, this wine looks good where did you get it?"

"oh-my mom send a bunch of stuff from Italy to me, so I don't get homesick"

you say stirring the sauce

"stuff like alcohol?"

"yes, and food"

you laugh

"sooo much food, the best that I can do is sharing, you know sharing is caring"

"and what are you making tonight?"

he says looking over your shoulders

"mh, pasta all'arrabbiata"

"i have no idea of what it is but sounds good, also I've never heard you talking in italian, sounds sexy"

"CHAN"

"WHAT"

"stop it"

you say turning towards him

"what I'm not doing anything"

"you're flirting"

you say

"flirting? I don't know what flirting is"

he says with a smile on his face

"oh put those dimples away"

you say turning to the kitchen counter, checking if the pasta is ready, or maybe you don't want to show him your cheeks getting redder

"we can sit, while we wait for the pasta”

you say walking towards him

“wanna a glass of wine?"

"please, yes"

you say almost disparately, he pours two BIG glasses of wine

"cheers, to the best physiotherapist ever"

"to the most stubborn person I know, who can't listen"

you say looking him in the eyes

"cheers Chan"

"cheers y/n"

"so you think I'm stubborn huh?"

"oh yeah, definitely"

"why?"

he asks sipping his wine

"why what? why I think you're a stubborn?"

he nods

"you don't listen to people who care about you? and you do almost everything without thinking? and you think you're invicible, you try to keep everything on your shoulders forgetting that you're a human? mh yes, you're a stubborn"

"damn, you can't lie huh?"

"nope"

you say sipping some wine

"can I check the pasta or you're going to kill me?"

"no, I'll check it, in my house guests don't make dinner"

"mh, can I come here more often?"

he asks giggling

"of course, the door is always open for you...I mean you guys, you know, you and the boys, all of them"

you get up, slapping mentally your face

what the fuck y/n behave yourself, he's just a friend. A hot one tho, but just a friend.

thanks God the pasta is ready, you mix it with the sauce and then pour it in two plates

"here we go"

you say sitting next to Chan, he waits for you, and after you take the first bite, he starts eating with you

“You need something else?”

"absholutely noth, thish ish perfect"

he says with his mouth full of pasta, you smile at this sight of him, without his working dark aura. People says that he's scary as fuck when he's working, and they mean it, he change completely, especially when he is in the studio, it's like an alter ego (we can call it Christopher yeah)

"so...you like it?"

you ask taking a bite a food

"yesh -he swallows- I want you to come at the dorm and cook for me...I mean us everyday, oh you should do a cooking competition with Lee Know, I would probably die because the good food but it would be a great death"

you laugh

"it's called food coma"

"really?"

he asks

"mhmm, try my nonna's food then we can talk about food coma"

"nonna is...?"

"oh, my grandma, she is a great chef"

"then I have to meet her"

he says finishing his plate

"in order to meet her you have to go to Italy, also she doesn't speak a word of English or Korean so you have to learn Italian"

"for good food? I'll do everything. You can be my teacher, I'm sure that you know how to speak it"

"me? your teacher?"

"yes"

"why me?"

"because you can speak Italian and I want to spend more time with you"

you choke on wine

"you what?"

you try to speak between the cough

"you okay?"

he asks patting gently your back

"yes, I'm okay, thanks. You really mean it?"

you ask

"what?"

"that you want to spend more time with me"

"yes, and I don't mean at the studio. I want to know you better as a friend, as a person"

"fuck Chan"

you get up, taking both of the plates to wash it

"fuck Chan what?"

he follows you at the sink

"we can't, you-you can't know me better"

"why not?"

he asks shrugging his shoulders

"because-I can't"

"mh? you have a boyfriend in Italy?"

"no"

"then why I can't know you better?"

"my...my contract, I signed a contract when the company hired me"

"and?"

he asks

"I can't have anything with my patients, and you're one of them"

you say looking at him

"where is the problem? -he asks- we're not at the company, we're just two friends who had dinner together, with some wine"

he says getting closer to you

"Chan please...don't"

"what? I'm not doing anything"

he says

"I know, it's me, I'm the problem, I don't know if I can contain my self right now, not after what you said"

"then do it, don't contain your self"

"this-you move your hands between your bodies-won't happened ever again"

"I can't make this promise"

he traps you with his arms between his body and the sink

"fuck Chan"

you say before kissing him on the lips, they’re so soft and you fucking knew it.

“We shouldn’t do that”

You say in between the kisses

“Shut up”

He says lifting you up, your legs locked behind his back

“Fuck-fuck-fuck it’s cold”

You say when your ass touch the marble of the kitchen counter, he giggling in your lips. Hands on his curls, pulling almost too roughly but he doesn’t seem to mind it

“That’s the revenge for the massage with your stupid cold hands”

“Yeah? If this the revenge that i get I’ll switch your turn with I.N so you’ll have my cold hands on your body everyday”

You say kissing his neck, way too roughly, biting and sucking his soft skin. For sure he’s going to have marks all over his neck tomorrow, but there’s make up to cover it up right?

“Sofa, please”

You say looking in his eyes

“Fuck I love when you beg, it turns me on”

He says picking up by your thighs, walking to the small sofa in your living room.

“You get turned on easily huh?”

“Shut up, I bet that you’re wet since I came into your house”

He says sitting on the couch, your legs on each side of him

“I’m always wet when your around”

“Yeah? So many lost opportunities for my dick”

He says pouting, placing his hands on your ass

“None of my business”

You say smiling, kissing his lips again and again, his tongue sliding inside your mouth, so gently and sweet, he taste like good wine, and you feel you can almost get drunk just with his tongue (maybe you’re already are)

“Stop grinding on my dick or i will fuck you in this small sofa”

“Such a dirty mouth Christopher”

You say grinding on him once more

“Mmhph please don’t use that name”

“Why not whimper man?”

You say placing your hands on his abs

“Your accent, I don’t know it’s just, I don’t know”

“Wow, you have clear ideas”

You laugh getting more comfortable on his lap, even if there’s something hard hat almost bothers you.

“You know what I’ve been thinking the whole day? At the studio, in the shower, even while I was in the car to come here”

“What?”

“Your hands, and that thing that you said to me”

“Mh?”

You’re confused, trying to understand what his talking about

“Your handjobs”

“Ooooh that, why? I mean it’s just a handjob”

You say shrugging your shoulders

“Yeah but why they’re so special?”

“Oh you wanna know the key huh?”

He nods looking at you

“My job”

“They teach you how to do-“

“Nonono”

You laugh shaking your hands

“Because of my job I have to use a lot of massage oil, coconut oil and stuff like that, so my hands are soft”

“Oooh so that’s the key”

“Yeah, some love, and coconut oil or lube”

“So that’s why you smell like coconut”

You laugh

“Yes, but I have a question”

“What’s up?”

He asks

“Wanna try?”

“What?”

You look at him

“Oooh that? I-I mean if you want to”

“I’m asking for your consent Chris, I’ve teased you enough today”

You laugh

“You think? I’ve been hard the whole day, my balls might be turned blue, so it’s a yes”

“Give me a second okay?”

You leave a kiss on his lips and go to your bed room searching for the coconut oil (that of course it’s in your bed side table for scientific purposes👀) you glance quickly your self in the mirror and you’re a mess, but don’t mind it.

“Here I am”

You say, sitting once again on his lap

“Let me warm you up a little more yeah?”

You say kissing his lips way more roughly than the first time, and a moan slips into your mouth

“Here you are my favorite whimper boy”

You say grinding your hips on him

“Mhhphf, I’m not whimpering, it’s just that- it’s the first time that someone - I’m the one who’s on top usually”

“Uuuh we have a dom here mh? Interesting, but let me be the one in control tonight yeah?”

“Please…y/n it hurts please do something”

He says in a desperate tone, kissing you so roughly that your lips are going to be swollen tomorrow

You work with his pants, taking out his warm and hard cock, that is leaking pre-cum liquid

“So needy”

You look at him in the eyes, you open the little jar and squeeze it a couple of drops drop in your dominant hand

“Can I?”

“Yes, please y/n please”

You slowly trace you fingertips around the head of his dick, spreading the pre cum liquid, making his dick slippery.

You wrap your hand around his dick, stroking it up and down so slowly that he looks so desperate.

“God- Please move, this is so frustrating”

He says placing his hands on top of yours

“Ah-ah put this hands behind your back, you can’t touch it”

“But it’s my cock”

He says arguing

“You have two options, you can place your hands behind you back and let me do my job, or I can tie you up so can’t move at all”

You say still stroking his dick

“No, no okay, I’ll put them behind my back”

“Such a good boy”

You kiss his lips, a deep moan sleeping out of his mouth. You place your hand on the base of his dick, using a tighter grip then before, moving it up and down paying attention to his head and to the most sensitive part of it.

“Mhhphf-fuck”

You keep moving your hand on him, and you know that he’s close by the way he move his body, the way he breathe, and the way he’s looking at you, his hands on your ass has a tighter grip now

“Fuck, I’m about to cum, please, please don’t stop.”

And of course you don’t stop, you already played too much with him, you stroke his cock faster now and he cums, a warm load of white and thick liquid running down his dick. You lick your fingers smiling, his head resting on your shoulder.

“Fuck”

He giggles

“What-who are you? Jesus Christ I’m-”

You giggle with him

“Now I’ll have a boner every time you treat me at the studio, you and your stupid coconut oil”

You laugh louder now, knowing that it’s not a joke.

“You laughing at me?”

He asks looking at you

“Yeah, maybe”

You shrug your shoulders

“Right…let me see if you can handle Christopher, yeah?”

He gets up, picking you up on one of his shoulders

“Waaaaa, what does this mean? Chaaaaan put me down”

“Ahah, Chan is not available at the moment call him later”

He says picking up that stupid coconut oil and walking away from the couch

“Now, tell me where is your bed room”

-

-

A/N: I think this is my first real smut, uhm this is so embarrassing, imma eclisse my self bye love you

[sqgeism]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ  𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. | kenji sato x gender neutral reader

love mail     —      this was an evil thought im so sorry. (experimental) angst :( themes of grieving/loss mentioned

︰꒱꒱ "PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, KENJI." he'll mutter to himself, his hands buried deep into his hair as he takes shaky, unstable breaths. this is the 5th time rhis week, it hasn't gotten any easier. it's just so hard to even think at this point. every thought is corrupted with the idea of you, any time he tries to even function his brain thinks of your smile and he breaks. why won't you leave? why do you make his days melancholic when you were once the reason they were the reason they were filled with ineffable joy.

why won't he let go of your memory? why won't he get rid of the empty soda can you left on his table? or the jacket you let him borrow? he knew it wouldn't fit him, after all. but you both also knew he just wanted to keep a part of you. how cruel that it'll be one of the last things that'll ever remind you of him. when your house got destroyed, barely anything was scavenged. the one place that was so full of you was erased, and he had no way to properly grieve that.

baseball is his only distraction, and by then not even that can keep his mind off you for long. his coach begs him to take a leave for as long as he needs, he refuses. if he accepts, he'll have to be alone with himself again. and thats his worst fear. being face to face with his own mind, his very cruel, unforgiving mind. kenji's thoughts were hardly repressible, and only your saccharine presence could silence his racing mind. he's afraid he'll have to live with them preying on his soul; forever victim to his own psyche.

he'll write poems you'll never get to read, sing songs you'll never hear, and say things you'll never get to know. he wishes he did more, but even if so, would that have been enough? could he have truly avoided this longingness for you even if he had more memories? he's not sure. he wishes he had an answer.

one day, he'll think he's okay again. he'll wake up and feel a little more life than yesterday, his mind isn't so enigmatic — and he doesn't feel trapped in his own mental prison. he'll make his bed slowly, but it no longer feels like a chore. he brushes his teeth and fixes his hair, the thought of you coming behind him with a hug doesn't cross his mind. mina instead reminds him he has a meeting this afternoon.

he feels the world has fallen into quiescence, everything is peaceful and he feels like he can breathe again. he takes a step out of his home, and he keeps going forward. kenji will walk to a store, he buys a small coffee, not a medium. you aren't there to ask him for a few sips anyway. the day fades away just as fast as it appeared, welcoming the dark night. for the first time in a while, he doesn't feel as if he's walking endlessly to a destination he doesn't know himself. he arrives somewhere, a tranquil park.

he sits on an empty bench, feeling the cold breeze of january in tokyo kiss his skin. it almost feels like you, he doesn't know how to explain it, but it does. and then he feels. it's complicated, but he just feels his heart squeeze and his throat suddenly forms a lump. he was getting better, wasn't he? so why, why until now — 3 years after your death.. he felt like this? so many years wasted with suppressing his feelings. for once, he will let himself grieve. tomorrow? he's not sure. but he simply hopes he'll be kinder to himself. just as you would have wanted for him. missing you came in waves, after all.

[houndsofheaven]

@tomarrymortmicrofics | pearl | 510 words

Hermione tells Harry he can't keep taking Dreamless Sleep.

“It could kill you, Harry,” she tells him, fiercely pointing at the text in the book in her hand. “It says right here that overuse can cause brain bleeds, hallucinations, vomiting, seizures, rectal prolapse…”

“Okay, Hermione, I get it,” Harry snaps. He fights the urge to childishly stick his fingers in his ears and drown her out by singing nursery rhymes.

He’ll cut back, he decides. He can't stop taking it completely.

Except, Hermione is determined and already knows all his usual tricks. All his vials are summoned and vanished. Then, he has to make a vow with her that he won't purchase more. It's not an unbreakable vow, but Hermione will be magically notified if he breaks his promise and Harry knows he won't like her reaction.

“I really am sorry about this,” she says gently. “I know how difficult it is to relive everything you've been through, but I simply can't sit back and allow you to die.”

Harry thinks about telling her the truth then. That he's not reliving anything. But he doesn't think it would matter.

That night, Harry tosses and turns until exhaustion pulls him under. When Harry falls asleep, he quite literally falls, tumbling through space like a little Victorian girl falling down a rabbit hole.

He faceplants on soft carpet, making a small whimper of distress. He sits up to take in his new surroundings, a rather pretentious-seeming bedroom that wouldn't look out of place in the Grimmauld Place of the past. The furniture is made of deep rich oak with mother-of-pearl inlays, forming the shapes of various plants and creatures.

“Oh,” says a bored voice, “It’s you again.”

Tom Riddle sits at a vanity, dipping his comb in a potion and running it through his thick curls.

“Where are we?” Harry asks.

“Malfoy Manor,” Tom says. “I've been invited to the Solstice Gala. It's quite an accomplishment for me so I really hope you aren't planning on spoiling it with your theatrics.”

Harry huffs. Sure, he had shouted at Tom and flailed about the first dozen or so times he had these dreams but what did it matter?

“It's not like any of this is real anyway,” Harry says petulantly.

Tom's answering frown is reflected in the mirror. “You're the one who’s not real,” he says dismissively.

Harry barks out an incredulous laugh. “I'm not real? Why the fuck would you be dreaming of me?”

Tom turns in his chair and fixes his eyes on Harry. “Why indeed?” he says in a low tone.

Harry feels small and vulnerable down on the floor with Tom looking down at him so predatorily.

‘Will you walk into my parlor?’ said a spider to a fly.

Harry swallows, meeting Tom’s sharp gaze. He's been trying not to think of this: the real reason why he’s been slowly poisoning himself to avoid these dreams.

The truth is, he stopped being afraid of Tom a long time ago. Now, Harry is more afraid of his desire for him.

[archangeldyke-all]

Okayokayokay

Reader cussing Silco out for working Sevika too hard and letting her get seriously injured on a mission? And Sevika just sitting there like (///0-0///) and she doesn’t even try to intervene because hell hath no fury like an angry wife>:]

-🥨

this is EVERYTHING to me i'm such a sucker for the whole 'protector gets protected' trope ugh

men and minors dni

you know something's wrong the moment you hear the knock at your door.

nobody knocks on your door. sevika's always loudly clambering inside, her keys jangling loudly, the door slamming behind her-- but she never knocks. solicitors know not to come to your house-- sevika's scared them all off by now.

your fears are confirmed when you open the door and find ran on your front stoop, cringing at you. your heart drops.

"is she--"

"she's okay!" ran cuts you off, knowing how quick you'll fly off the handle when it comes to sevika. "she's fine, i just... she's sleeping it off in the bar, i wanted to come get you, tell you she won't be home for a while." ran says.

you're shoving your shoes and coat on before ran can finish their sentence. they trail beside you as you start storming toward the last drop. "what happened?" you demand.

ran shrugs. "i dunno. i wasn't there. i was just playin' a game of pool, then deckard and silco were stumbling in carrying her in their arms."

your stomach churns, and you stumble a bit. ran reaches out to steady you. "she couldn't walk?!" you ask, your voice shaky.

"singed fixed her up, got some shimmer in her system before any damage could become permanent." ran tries to placate you. "she'll be fi--"

"ran." you growl, glaring at your friend. they sigh, then wrap their arm around your shoulders, pulling you toward their chest.

they don't try to calm you down anymore. they just keep you from stumbling into people as tears make your vision blurry-- gently guiding you toward the bar.

sevika's back on her feet, nursing a whiskey and cringing away from singed as he stitches a wound on her flesh arm when you storm into the bar.

at the sight of you, her shimmer-pink eyes flash a bit and a goofy smile takes over her face.

fuck, her poor face. she's been beaten and battered, her nose swollen, her lip busted, one of her eyes bruised.

she tries to rise from her seat but she cringes in pain. you jump into action, sprinting across the bar to meet her, helping her ease back down into her stool and letting singed continue his work.

you gently cup her face, pushing her loose hair behind her ears, kissing her forehead. "hi, baby." you whisper.

"hi, baby." sevika repeats, smiling up at you. the shimmer's doing its job, keeping her happy and goofy and unaware of the needle stitching her back together. you're happy to see she's feeling alright, but you're enraged now that you're close enough to see her injuries up close.

"what happened to you, huh?" you ask. sevika giggles and shrugs like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"she got thrown through a window, fell twenty feet." singed says. sevika giggles again. you have to swallow back the bile that rises in your throat.

"who the fuck threw her through a window!?" you ask.

"a chembot at the shimmer plant malfunctioned, identified her as a threat." singed says, shrugging.

behind you, there's a muffled curse and some shuffling, and you turn around just in time to see silco trying to hide behind lock. it's too late for him, and he seems to know it, cringing the moments your eyes meet.

"silco!" you shout.

sevika huffs in her stool. "babe--" she cuts herself off when you flash her a glare, her mouth quickly shutting as her boss shuffles over to you; looking like a kicked dog.

"you care to explain to me why my wife's getting her only good arm stitched back on right now?!" you start. silco scoffs a bit.

"it's barely a flesh wound."

"oh, i'll show you a fucking flesh wound!" you growl, launching forward and narrowly avoiding grabbing silco in your clutches when ran reaches out and hooks their arm around your waist.

"i'm sorry! she's alright, she--"

"she could've fucking died!" your voice echoes through the bar. silco's shoulders slump, and you stop fighting against ran's grip. you don't stop screaming, though. "i know you've got your head so far up your own ass it's coming back out of your mouth, but there are other people in the fucking world! other people, like the love of my fucking--" you choke on your own tears.

silco at least has the decency to look ashamed. "i'm sorry." he whispers, sincerely.

you take a deep breath and collect yourself, before gulping and speaking clearly. "i need you to hear me clearly when i say this. the next time you decide to treat my wife like she's disposable, i will burn down this bar, i will burn down your shimmer plant, and i. will fucking. kill you." your hand is shaking at your side.

somewhere behind you, thieram lets out a whistle and a quiet "damn."

"understand?" you ask, rasing an eyebrow at the man in front of you. silco looks shocked. there's a bit of begrudging respect in his gaze, but it's mostly just surprised intimidation.

"i understand." he confirms, his voice squeaking as he nods.

you nod, then turn to look at singed. "is she good to go?"

"keep her hydrated, give her half a vial at every meal." he says, nodding and handing you a handful of shimmer vials.

"good. we're going home. i'll send her back to work when she's healed." you say over your shoulder as you start to storm out of the bar.

you catch your reflection in the mirror behind the bar-- you're barely recognizable; the rage coursing through you making you look almost... scary. you look over your shoulder back at your wife.

she's sitting in her stool, stars in her eyes as she grins at you. you snort, just a bit.

"c'mon, baby." you say, reaching a hand out and motioning her toward you.

she's out of her stool so fast it topples over and hits the floor with a clatter, sprinting over to get into your arms.

you giggle, catching her as she trips over her own feet, still a little goofy from the shimmer and whiskey, and press a quick kiss to her bruised cheek before wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her arm over your shoulders so you can support her weight as you start your walk home.

when the pair of you brush past silco, sevika giggles and shrugs, mouthing a 'sorry' to her boss.

when you push out into the street, sevika doesn't let you get more than three feet away from the bar before she's pulling you in for a breath taking, slightly bloody tasting kiss.

it catches you completely off guard, and you're grinning and out of breath by the time sevika pulls away. "wh-what was that for?" you ask your wife.

she's grinning at you. "that was the hottest thing i've ever seen in my life." she says. you snort, and sevika shakes her head. "i don't think you get it babe: i've been workin' with silco for ten years, he's had knives and bullets and bombs thrown at him, and he doesn't bat an eye. but that in there? i think he mighta shit his pants a bit!" she's cackling.

you smile, your worry and anger fading a bit at the sight of your wife laughing.

she's okay. she's alive and happy and doubling over in front of you, holding her side as she cackles.

you sigh, and lean forward to kiss her cheek. "i meant it, you know. i dunno what the fuck i'd do if something happened to you."

"i know." she says. "'s what made your threats so scary, you actually mean it." she giggles. you huff and flick her shoulder, and her smile shrinks, just a bit. sevika leans forward and kisses your forehead. "nothin's gonna happen to me. i'm indestructible, you know that." she promises.

you pout up at her, still worried. sevika kisses your lower lip, and you can't help but smiling a little.

"besides. i'm pretty sure silco's gonna hire me a bodyguard just to make sure i get home safe to you every night, after that." she teases. you cackle, and tug your wife toward home.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp @iamastar

[oikarma]

you're a jazz singer with this glamorous old-hollywood vibe. think red lips, bouncy curls, and a honeyed voice. you perform with big orchestras and your stage presence is pure magic. tony, being tony, is your biggest fan and constantly brags to everyone about knowing you personally.

"y/n l/n? oh, she was here just the other day! i fixed a few of her instruments to get them in shape. takes work but they just don't make them the same."

one night, there's a massive event in honor of captain america himself. you're the headliner, all dressed up. the dress was made for you, curving in and out at the right places like a blooming flower. steve walks in, all "tony, this is too much fuss. i don't need all this. just doing my job." but then—bam!—he sees you on stage and mr. modesty is star-struck.

you're like the stars he used to see but in this new world of his. take a picture, turn it to sepia tones, and you could be part of his memories.

he's completely mesmerized by your voice and a little glance you throw his way. after the show, tony drags him over to meet you (friend of a friend, duh) and steve's awkward charm. not captain america anymore, just pre-serum steve rogers, limbs everywhere. he's stumbling over his words like "hi, oh, your singing was...it was really something. thanks for coming."

meanwhile, tony's smirking because he knew this was going to happen. you'd mentioned in passing why you picked this genre: it was because you were charmed by the old ways, the nostalgia of a different time.

and who better to fit that description than the man out of time himself?

needless to say, steve's trying to subtly listen to your work. but tony's always snooping. "oh, y/n again? you need to broaden your horizons a bit, old man."

he finds a way to get you to stark tower, something about returning an instrument? the details were rushed, while steve is there. tony slips out of the room and returns to see the two of you standing very close. steve hasn't smiled like this in a while. it's like he's looking at his past. this time, it's not going to slip out of his grasp. because not only is it everything good about his old life, but you are very much his future.

when you leave, he places a kiss on the back of your hand.

oh, how old-fashioned. how romantic. how perfect. tony won't admit it, but he may have wiped a tear.

[aayakashii]

I’m so glad someone sent in a SH ask I’ve been too shy to! I loved it 💕 could you do another one with the remanding Hotarubi boys and Lyca?

ofc!!! I'm happy you liked it ๑´ ³)˘ᵕ˘៸៸ I'm gonna be honest, Haku's part kinda left me giggling and kicking my feet so I hope you like it as well fkfjdkdj

Warning: sh mentioned, a bit more angst on Zenji's part

"How did you get hurt?" Lyca says, grabbing your arms as soon as he noticed the fading scars.

You open and close your mouth, wordlessly, trying to think of ways to explain it to him. Lyca probably never heard or read about issues like yours. Would it be better to lie? Weave a story that wouldn't have him pity you?

You look at the earnest gaze he gives you, and you sigh. He deserves your honesty.

"I... I hurt myself. I'm the one who did this" you say, softly, knowing he would probably have more questions.

"Why would you do this?" he scrunched his face. "Is it a human thing?"

You hum, in thought.

"I guess you could say so." you reply, slowly, thinking of the proper words to explain it to him "Sometimes, when some humans are feeling very sad and like everything is a horrible mess, they feel like doing this gives them a sense of control. Not everyone does this. But, sometimes, some very depressed people might do it to feel some relief."

Lyca's wolf ears flatten against his head.

"I don't... really get it but... you were very depressed?" he mumbles, fingers tracing the little lines on your skin.

You shrug.

"I was in a dark place some time ago. I'm feeling better now, I promise" you say, and ruffle his hair.

Lyca lift his head up, yellow eyes gazing yours with determination.

"If you say you're okay now, I'll believe you. But promise me you won't try to hurt yourself again."

"I promi-" you begin to say, but he interrupts you.

"You can't lie! I'll know if you hurt yourself! I can smell you well, you know!" his face looks scrunched in anger, but his ears stay flattened on his head and his tail curls down.

You smile and pat his head again.

"I promise."

"My dear, how I wish I could have kept you safe from your struggles."

Zenji's voice, usually boisterous, spoke to you in a soft tone as he looked at the scars on your thighs while you slept.

You murmured his name in your sleep, unconsciously recognizing his presence in your room (his nightly visits became a routine, after all) and you held out your hand towards him.

His hand fazed through your skin, yet he still insisted on trying to touch you and comfort you as you slept.

He sat on your bed, eyes fixed on your peaceful figure, and he knew that those were scars from battles fought long ago – battles you have won. But it still pained him that he wasn't close to you since forever, that he wasn't able to protect you when you needed him but didn't know of him.

Even if he needed to write odysseys upon odysseys, singing praises to you throughout your whole life, just so you'd never feel so lost that you had to hurt yourself to find your footing again, he would do it.

Zenji would gladly haunt you for eternity, if it meant keeping you safe from your demons, in any way he could.

"Is this something you could tell me?" Haku squeezed your hand as he looked as the fading lines on your wrist, as you two held hands, strolling together on the beach.

You shook your head.

"There isn't a specific thing to say about it. I was in a bad place and made a choice that left these scars on me. It just... happened like that. I'm fine now, but also I don't regret them, nor do I feel ashamed. I did what I could to survive."

Haku stopped on his tracks and stared deeply into your eyes. He sighed, a faint smile gracing his face, and brought your wrist to his lips, kissing each scar.

"You're very strong. You should give me some chances to be your savior, you know? How am I ever going to look cool for you?" he said after kissing the last scar, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes shined against the twilight.

You playfully tapped his head to shush him as you giggled.

He squeezed your hand once again.

"If you ever need to fight to survive again, I want you to rely on me. Is that okay for me to ask? I'll understand if you'd rather not have me all up in your business, though."

You shook your head and brought your hand to his cheek, smiling as he leaned against your touch.

"I'll be more than happy to have you with me in any moment of my life, whether I'm struggling or not, whether I'm sad or happy."

"This sounds a lot like a marriage vow, you know?" he smirked again and winked playfully.

"Oh, shut up." you patted his cheek and walked away, with him chuckling as he hurried after you.

Masterlist

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Somewhere Over the Rainbow pop-up event.

she'll get better soon

Prompt: Orange | Song: Soon You'll Get Better by Taylor Swift | Word Count: 672 | Rating: T | POV: Eddie | CW: Terminal Illness, Religion | Tags: Young Eddie, His Mother Is Sick, And He'd Do Anything For Her To Feel Better, Good Uncle Wayne

holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you

She's sleeping, and Eddie knows he needs to be quiet. He eyes the rows and rows of pill bottles on the kitchen counter from the pharmacy. The old ones, nearly empty, and the brand new full ones he picked up with Uncle Wayne this morning.

Eddie had been left in the small toy section to pick something out while Uncle Wayne talked to the pharmacist at the back counter. Those same pill bottles were scattered all over the pharmacy counter, being picked up and discussed one at a time.

Wayne asking questions, voice serious.

Eddie didn't really want any toys. So, he made a deal with the big guy in the sky. He'd put back the pack of army men, and in return his mom would feel better.

Now, at home, he thinks it must have worked. After getting refills, she always sleeps. He misses her. But he knows she's not in pain if she can sleep. And that's good. Uncle Wayne says that's real good.

Uncle Wayne tries to keep him busy, tries to keep him thinking about anything else other than her being sick.

It's impossible. 

At least it's summer and he doesn't have to go to school. He can stay home all day and keep watch. They both urge him to go outside and play with his friends, but Eddie doesn't really have any of those. He doesn't tell them that.

Instead, he sits close to the television set, the volume turned down low, watching whatever's on one of the three channels they get with the rabbit ears. Sometimes he's lucky and it's Groovie Goolies or Uncle Croc's Block. That's his favorite.

Other days, Captain Kangaroo, or even worse, The Young and the Restless.

He looks at every label on the orange pill bottles, hoping one of them will be the one. The magic pills that'll fix her, that'll put everything back the way it was. He prays to Uncle Wayne's god that his mother won't die.

That things will go back to normal.

He's scared it'll never be the way it was again.

Eddie's heard them talking when they think he's not listening. Hushed conversations in doctor's offices, or when she talks to Uncle Wayne late at night. He knows they're planning for after. That the plan is that Uncle Wayne's gonna take him, keep him, love him. And Eddie's grateful for that. He is. That's way better than being shuffled off to his dad, but no offense to Uncle Wayne, he just doesn't want to go anywhere without his mom.

She sleeps, Uncle Wayne works, and Eddie sits down and turns on the TV. It's The Price Is Right today, which is definitely better than a soap opera.

Sitting up, Eddie wipes at his eyes with the back of his hands, trying to figure out what woke him up. He listens. Linda Ronstadt's voice is softly floating out from his mother's room, a record spinning on the turntable. Eddie pads out of bed, and pauses in the doorway. Uncle Wayne is sitting up, holding her to his chest as she cries. Eddie knows he isn't supposed to see this, knows he should go back to bed.

But his feet feel glued to the floorboards.

Poor, poor pitiful me, Linda Ronstadt sings. 

Uncle Wayne nods his head, and at first Eddie thinks he's being sent back to bed, but then Uncle Wayne opens an arm. And Eddie can suddenly move again, feet padding against the carpet of her bedroom, climbing up on her bed, burying his face in Uncle Wayne's chest, right next to his mama's. Smelling his familiar cologne, trying not to cry right alongside her.

She'll get better soon. Eddie's sure of it. He's gone to church with Wayne, prayed, and she'll get better. It's all he's asked for, all he wants.

Uncle Wayne and the doctors and god will make it happen, he's sure of it. He lets Uncle Wayne pat him on the back, and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. 

She'll get better soon.

And if you want to write your own, or see more entries in this pop-up, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to see other entries for the Somewhere Over the Rainbow popup event!

[exhaslo]

So mutual feelings (romantic)

Can you do like a Miguel x reader where its reader day off and she decides she wants to take a warm shower and listen to music so she puts on headphones and listen to pop or Spanish music or whatever(I was listening to follow the leader by Jlo that’s where this idea came from) and Miguel tries to call her because he needs help with some paperwork (not really he just won’t admit he misses her) so Miguel ends up going to her universe and to her apartment where he sees her in a towel dancing to music and singing along and finds it adorable

That’s the basic idea you can make it have a spicy end or just fluff , it can swing both ways , you can decide that

Smut is always fun, but I do believe we could use some more fluff

With sexual tension hehehehehehehehehehe

Warning: Minors DNI, Sexual tension, fluff, sexual thoughts, language

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Some days were just exhausting. The only way you could find any relief from your daily struggles was a nice warm shower. The feeling of washing away your sweat, pain and sorrow was always comforting. A feeling you could never tire of.

Today was your day off from both the Spider Society and super hero work. All you had to do was go to your daily job, which also decided to drain you. If only you could have a day off from everything all together. Those were rare.

The moment you stepped into your small apartment was a god sent. You dropped your bag, locked the door and threw your shoes to the side. It was time for your shower.

"I'm going to enjoy this,"

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Miguel felt his eyes drop as he wrote on his fifth report for the day. It had been a LONG day. The amount of anomalies that appeared, the amount of fuck ups he had to fix, and the reports? Miguel either needed a drink or a good fuck.

Grunting at the thought of you, Miguel wondered how you were enjoying your day off. Miguel won't ever admit it, but he always missed you when you weren't working.

No one in the Spider Society knew, but the two of you were dating. Miguel always claimed that you were a special case and spoiled you rotten, but he wanted to be careful. But, sometimes it was hard for him to keep the secret.

Stopping his work, Miguel started to imagine you on your back with his dick rammed inside you. Your moans filling his brain as he thought of you under him, begging for more. Miguel grunted to his thoughts, wanting to feel you.

"I wonder what she's doing?"

Glancing at his watch, Miguel thought about paying you a visit. He deserved a little RNR after how today was. Surely, you wouldn't mind the visit either, right?

Using the dimension portal, Miguel decided to head to your world. He needed to hold you, even for just a moment.

As Miguel entered your apartment, he couldn't help but hear music blasting. Following the sound of music, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he stopped in front of the bathroom. Quietly, he opened the door and saw your shadow dancing to the music.

Miguel kept quiet as he watched you, smiling in awe towards you. You were so adorable. Oh, how Miguel wanted to fuck you right now, praising your beauty.

But he could wait.

You deserved this after all. You worked so hard, but got stressed so easily. Miguel always listened when you would complain about needed a hot shower. It was your go-to place to unwind and relax. He could understand.

Watching your hips move to the music, Miguel had to resist a groan. Oh how he wanted to join you and help you destress.

But, again, he could wait.

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Inhaling deeply, you cooed to the comfort you were enjoying. A nice long shower was what you needed. The music was distracting you from everything as you took your time. Your body finally relaxing from the stress and strain of the week.

"Mhm, I don't wanna leave~" You whined softly.

Washing the soap off your body, you started to regret leaving the comfort of your shower. As you stroked your body, you started to think of Miguel.

You loved your secret boyfriend. He was so kind to you and honestly one of the best things about being a Spider-Woman. Miguel was always a charmer. That and the sex with him was so intense and good that you could drool.

Shaking your head from the dirty thoughts, you knew that Miguel was busy. Finishing your shower, you thought about calling him. Just his presence alone made you feel better.

"Mhm, I think I'll order out," You told yourself.

As you stepped out of the shower, you squeaked as Miguel leaned against your wall with a smirk. Your face turned bright red as you covered yourself with a towel,

"M-Miguel?! Pervert." You said with a shy smile. Miguel chuckled as he approached you,

"Sorry, amor (love), I didn't want to disturb you." He said with a chuckle, pulling you into his embrace, "I just wanted to see you."

"Mhm, me too,"

Enjoying Miguel's embrace, you gently pushed him out of the bathroom so you could change. Miguel just complied and said that he would order some food for you.

As you finished, you stepped out of the bathroom and smiled as Miguel wore his back up clothes. The two of you getting comfortable as you cuddled on the couch.

"I wouldn't have mind you staying in the towel," Miguel hummed. You crawled onto his lap,

"Oh? And what would you have done if I did?"

"Hm, dunno. Depends on what you want me to do."

Damn, Miguel was good at getting you hot. Honestly, this would also be a good way to destress. Stroking his chest, you leaned forward to kiss him. Your hips slowly grinding against him before pulling away from his lips.

"A lot, but I think our food is here." You whispered as the door bell rang. Miguel gripped your waist,

"Ah, you torment me,"

You giggled as Miguel groaned in response. Shaking your ass in front of him on purpose. You went to the door, grabbing the food, but the moment you closed the door, Miguel grabbed you. He put the food aside as he pinned you against the door.

"I don't think you relaxed enough. Still seem a little stressed."

"Me or you?" Miguel grunted as he kissed your neck,

"You, for sure."

Wrapping your arms around Miguel's neck, you laughed as your boyfriend complained. Honestly, you needed that shower, but having Miguel here was a plus. Today was a great day...

And it was only getting better.

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Sorry it was short!!! Hope you enjoyed~