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goosetheluce · 4 months

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you're my home (lucy gray baird x fem!reader)

info: cussing, ever so slight angst, mutual pining, confession, reader is running from district twelve with lucy gray

a/n: it's not weird to have a crush on someone with the first name as you !! taylor swift and taylor lautner did it leave me alone

»--•--«

you stirred from your rest at the bright sunbeams pouring through the trees. and maybe also lucy gray's insistent tugging and repetition of your name.

"holy shit," she grumbles, clearly dismayed. "wake up! we're almost there. gotta get moving."

" 'm up. lord."

you heaved a sigh and arched your back, a tight line of pops rushing down your spine. you took a deep inhale, eyes shutting again as you ran a hand along your fucked up, greasy hair.

traveling on foot for a week isn't the most flattering look.

when you peeled your eyes open, you were met with lucy gray's judging stare beating down on you. considering the way the corners of her lips twitched, though, you knew she couldn't stay annoyed at your heavy sleeping for too long.

"gimme a break, lucy gray. i'm not used to this," you rasped. you rolled out of your tent and lay dramatically on the forest floor. what's a little more dirt, anyway?

she scoffed and her radiance peeked through her exasperated face. the wide smile woke you up a little more.

"should've hung out with the covey more while we were still around the district," she scolds, grabbing your soft hands and wrapping them in hers to pull you to your feet. "might've taught you how to not be a baby."

"maybe. but i ran away with you, didn't i?" you retorted. "i think that makes me pretty grown."

lucy gray's playful smile faded into a more serene one. she simply gave a nod and stepped away, picking up her backpack.

"look what i found while you were asleep," she murmured. she pulled out eggs (poor mother bird), and a bundle of herbs for tea later. your mouth watered.

"no salt and pepper?" you teased, taking an egg and inspecting it. it was heavy. you were hit with homesickness as you remembered your kitchen, which sometimes struggled to stay stocked, but at least you had the chance for butter.

you both decided on soft-boiling the eggs in the tiny pot you begged lucy gray to pack before you ventured off. you sat and ate, peeling away the crackling shell and talking about the journey and whatever else before packing up and hiking through another day.

things were natural with her. hell, everything about her was natural. her beauty was untouched by the standards of the capitol and instead flourished freely. it was evident in the lively bounce of her dark waves and her sunkissed olive skin. you wondered when the last time was you looked in the mirror without picking everything apart, envying lucy gray's outward confidence.

"i still can't believe we're doing this," you spoke up, the silence becoming insufferable.

lucy gray turns her head to meet your eyes, her expression neutral. sweat pooled on her hairline and dripped down her temples. you knew if you reached out to touch her, her skin would be blazing with the power of the sun. good thing she doesn't burn.

"like, running away and all that. i thought i'd rot away in twelve for the rest of my life."

till i met you, you added on silently.

lucy gray laughed.

"a woman like you? naw, i had to steal you away. couldn't let such a beauty go to work in those damned mines."

"you really think i'm that much of a priss?" you sighed, batting your eyelashes at her sarcastically.

"oh, honey, i never said that. sometimes a girl just wants a treat for herself. so i got my treat."

you blamed the high noon for your feverish cheeks.

the minutes turned into hours, and the shadows stretched across the grass. laughter rang across the fields.

"your first kiss was billy taupe? he's so fucking boring, i'm sorry," you cackled, eyes shut tight from hysteria. "sadly for the rest of us, though...next to you, anyone is boring."

"what? first kisses aren't exactly known to be glamorous," lucy gray defended. "besides, i got the real deal after him."

"oh?" you perked up, voice stabilizing. "this mystery guy must be the reason your head was in the clouds...at least, according to maude."

suddenly, the happiness drained from her face. "for a while, i guess. wasn't worth it." you averted your eyes to the front of the scenery. your grip tightened around the straps of your backpack.

"you deserve better. you'll find someone. a hot guy from district four, maybe," you teased, nudging her arm with your elbow.

like me.

"oh, perfect, a fisher! don't even need to buy cologne for his birthday; it'd be useless against that rank," she remarks sourly.

you giggled as her teasing gaze met yours. your grin was mirrored, and you memorized the crevices of her smile lines. her eyes fluttered down to your lips for a brief moment before she cleared her throat and unraveled her map.

you let out a deep breath and looked around. you remembered when you first met lucy gray, frozen and terrified to see somebody else outside the limits of twelve. she eyed you warily from the lake, her lips parted and brow furrowed.

you realized you should probably say something to the girl in the lake, but you didn't know what. she waded toward you and began a less-than-friendly warning before you interrupted her.

"we don't have food. i'm just out here to gather some things."

the girl's voice halted and her shoulders reluctantly dropped from their defensive position.

"thank god."

"what are you doing in there? aren't you gonna get caught?" you inquired nervously, eyes flitting everywhere. the girl laughed brightly.

"those joke 'peacekeepers' don't care about anything that goes on past the fences. not even a covey girl swimming. scandalous, i know."

you stared as the sun washed over her soaked hair.

"lucy gray baird," she offered up her name. "but you can call me lucy gray. that's what all my friends call me."

"i'm..." you started, walking to the edge of the dock to meet her at the water.

she muttered something quietly, bringing you back to the present.

"what's that?"

"ah, just that we should stop here for the night. it's not a good idea to go through the forest in the dark. so easy to get lost," lucy gray corrects herself. you nodded and looked around for a spot.

"there looks good," you suggested, pointing to a spot under a lone cluster of trees. lucy gray hums in agreement before starting towards the spot, taking your hand in hers. your heart skipped.

the sky wept deep indigo, bleeding down into the horizon as the sun sank. insects chirped and buzzed, their calls flowing through the tree leaves and across the grassy plains. the fire was warm; the smell of roasted game and pungent tea carried away in the wind. lucy gray's wavy voice split the thick summer air pleasantly. your eyes stayed fixed on her. her dainty fingers held her tea. a sly smile painted her face.

"you stare a lot," she remarked. "you know that, right?"

your eyebrows raised a bit. you kept looking, wondering how she'd noticed and still hadn't even looked up to meet your gaze. until she did.

god, you loved the way her eyes looked like a cup of black coffee. the way your grandma used to make it. or maybe the tree bark you peeled away from a rotting trunk as a kid. the soil embedded between your fingers after a long day of work.

"i do know that," you responded a second too late. awkward delivery. you swallowed and looked into the towering coniferous forest. shadows crept from beneath the canopy and raised the hairs on the back of your neck.

"we should probably wrap it up soon," you insisted. "put out the fire, get to bed, all that." you picked at a scab till it flaked off.

lucy gray scoffed, setting her tea beside your backpacks.

"the sun is barely gone. just 'cause the birds are sleepin' don't mean we are."

you said nothing in return, still wary of the woods nearby. your fingers pressed firmly into the skin of your arms, which were rested on your knees. you sighed and put your head down.

you felt lucy gray's gaze burning into you. you felt the former scab swelling and the droplet of blood spilling down your arm.

"you messed with it too much. might get infected if we don't clean it," she asserted. you smiled with your head on your knees. lucy gray was making an excuse to touch you. you wondered silently if she felt the same intense heartrate, the same jolt of electricity every time your arms brushed as you hiked through the countryside.

away from all the rules.

you lifted your head and saw lucy gray hurrying back with a damp towel and honey. your brow furrowed.

"what's that for?"

she chuckled as she kneeled down to wipe away the blood and dirt with the towel.

"it'll keep that cut clean. antibacterial properties an' all. trust me."

your breath hitched as the towel made contact with your cut. the gentle sting of raw honey being spread across the wound is what snapped your drooping eyelids back open.

definitely not lucy gray's lips so close to you.

"...hey," she whispered.

"hi?" you responded, smiling a bit.

"it's alright if you're homesick. you can talk to me about it, if you'd like."

you breathed out a long sigh and pressed your forehead to hers. she hesitated before bringing her left hand to rest on the side of your face.

"lucy gray," you began, but struggled to finish. you pulled back slightly to make eye contact.

"i'm not that homesick. i have you," you whispered softly.

"you're my home."

you were met with a tense silence. you wanted to turn and run, because how could you be so stupid to tell her that, and you ruined the moment, and-

suddenly her lips are pressing gently into yours. your eyes widened. the taste of the tea she was drinking lingered on your tongue as she shuffled back.

"fuck! fuck, i'm sorry, i wasn't thinkin'," she apologized, voice shaking as she stared at you. she fiddled with her hands anxiously. you'd never seen her so flustered.

all you did was make your way back to her, cupping her face in a heavy kiss. you smiled against her, feeling her body relax into yours. her hands rested on top of yours before sliding comfortably onto your waist. she pulled back, jet black eyes bright with starlight and exhilaration.

"coming with you, getting away from twelve...it's been the best decision i ever made," you confessed, dropping your hands from her face and instead rubbing her arms. "i've wanted nothing except you for like, a year now."

"we've known each other for almost three years. i'm wounded," lucy gray teased, her fingers unsuccessfully smoothing the top layer of your hair.

"well, was i better than billy taupe?"

"quiet, you."

»--•--«

#lucy writes #lucy gray #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x reader #tbosbas #tbosas #tbosas x reader #lucy gray x fem!reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg #the hunger games

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funeral-pyree · 4 months

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lover girl! ellie and her partner with long nails

mostly sfw but includes suggestive content - MDNI 18+

♱ she would absolutely ask you to wash her hair because she likes the way your nails scratch her scalp, and would hum contentedly while you shampoo her short auburn locs

♱ on days when you’re at work and she’s at home, she would attempt to replicate the feeling of you playing with her hair and scratching her head, eventually huffing and giving up because it doesn’t feel as good as when you do it

when you get home, she would do what i did when i was a kid and subtly (or at least she thinks so) ask you to get knots out of her hair because she “couldn’t reach properly”. you’d oblige, knowing full well she just wants you to run your nails through her hair but is too afraid to admit that’s what she wants

♱ would one day ask to come with you to get your nails done while out running errands together

definitely would ask what it feels like having fake nails on top of your real ones, so you’d suggest she should get hers done too

she’d panic thinking she had to get long nails like you and despises the idea of them, making comments about how she needed to keep them short for guitar and “other stuff” wink wonk. you’d lightly kick her in the legs for insinuating what she was in front of the nail tech, quickly muttering an apology, but still adorning a small smirk

eventually, she would opt for getting the shortest nails they’d offer her, ones that were barely longer than her natural nails, and would get black polish with little bits of glitter that sparkle in the right light. most definitely would show them off to her friends later, excitedly pointing out the little specks of glitter and saying you helped her pick it out.

she would, however, quickly get sick of the feeling of the acrylic on top of her nails, trying to pick them off after a few days, to which you’d scold her and tell her she was going to ruin her natural nails. she would whine at that saying “but babe!!” dragging out the ‘a’ sound, “they feel fuckin’ weird and i can’t pick shit up as easily.” pouting slightly before continuing with pleas of “just let me take them off.” you’d go back to the nail salon the next day and get the set removed. she would get them to repaint her nails with the same black polish again though because she liked how it looked, even on her natural nails

♱ would one day ask how people with nails could still fuck with “long ass talons” and you’d have to explain that some people get a couple nails cut shorter so they don’t hurt their partners. she would definitely think it looked goofy until you showed up at home one day with a new set, quickly noting how your middle and ring finger nails were cut considerable shorter. let’s just say she begged you to get them done like that from then on

♱ i could also see her scrolling through tiktok one morning and coming across a video of a guy learning how to do his girlfriend’s nails and thinking she should try it out. excitedly brings up the idea over breakfast, and once you agree, drags you out of the apartment to go get the necessary supplies. would actually love the process and think it was a fun bonding experience for you two.

she would get quite good at it over time and definitely put her steady hands and artistic abilities to use to create the cute sets you show her on your pinterest board. once she sees how much you like her work, she would get a tad cocky, stating that you didn’t need to go back to your usual tech anymore now that she’s “become a pro”. you’re more than happy to let her do them from now on though, enjoying how tender and careful she is when dealing with your nails.

i can see her drawing up her own designs that she wants to try out for your next set one night, giddily showing you her creations the next morning and begging you to let her do some of them, to which you obviously agree because who could say no to those puppy eyes she gives you when she’s excited

♱ she would LOVE moments when you’re snuggled up together in bed, all cozy and watching a movie (or barely in her case). she would be positioned between your legs, using your belly as a pillow and fighting sleep as you slowly drag your fingers through her hair. most definitely would end up snoring quietly on your stomach as you too, lose your battle to sleep as the credits roll and the last of the candle on your bedside table burns down to the wick

♱ in conclusion, she’s a big fan of your nails

AN: special thanks to @sapphic-gardn for reading over this for me!! this is my first time writing since i was like 14 so please be nice

#the last of us #tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams headcanons #lucy writes

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cowboyslikedean · 24 days

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sorry for the slight rambling nonsense here and i may never do anything with this but what about a buddie fic inspired by good luck babe chappell roan where eddie has broken up with marisol and then buck and eddie get a little tipsy and make out at the madney wedding but then eddie freaks out and resolutely refuses to admit it ever happened or talk about it again. starts taking up pepa on her arranged dates. (he ignores buck’s calls.) it gets to the point he’s going on a date every couple of days and it’s not like eddie, it’s really not, but he kisses each one of them goodbye like he’s chasing something, each time exactly the same. (he swipes away buck’s texts like it’s rain on his screen) two seconds of enthusiasm followed by something he wishes he could call disgust, because at least then he’d be feeling anything at all. instead, emptiness settles in his gut. that’s the way it had always been, so it shouldn’t bother him, really. just the way he’s wired. except—- no, it doesn’t matter. (he’s all but on B shift now, with all the voluntary shift swaps he’s taken.) all that matters is that it bothers him now, and he’s going to find a girl who fixes it. so he stops the dates, and turns to the bars. takes shots of anything until the liquor burn in his chest is close enough to butterflies that he can smile through some of the kisses. it only goes so far. he never takes them home. he pays carla overtime to give himself time to sober up in the driveway. (buck is on his porch steps, somewhere between a guardian angel and a hallucination. he pointedly walks past him, locking the door behind him.) sometimes when he’s in bed, and carla’s gone, and chris’ asleep, he almost calls marisol. or ana. because at least not feeling anything wouldn’t hurt. (he wakes up in the morning, and buck is still on his porch, waiting like nothing at all is more comfortable than sitting on the tile for eight hours.)

anyway can u tell i’ve been listening to that song for eleven hours on repeat

#buddie #911 abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #lucys ramblings #lucy writes #kinda

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virgyvandijk · 11 months

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want you to be (the heavens above me)

1/2

“I –– I should go,” he manages to choke out, not looking at Phoebe’s glittery bubble bath. “I’ve kept you long enough.” “What?” Roy asks. He looks confused in a way Jamie’s never seen him before. “I’m intruding,” Jamie says gently, the same tone that he used to use to explain to his cousins why his dad was passed out snoring in the corner before Christmas dinner had even been served. “No you’re fucking not,” Roy says instantly, circling his fingers around Jamie’s wrist so hard it hurts. “How can you be fucking intruding? I fucking invited you.” Jamie’s head swims with all the f-bombs in that sentence. You’d think he’d be used to it by now. or, roy looks after jamie after man city.

#ted lasso #roy kent #jamie tartt #roy x jamie #jamie x roy #jamie tartt x roy kent #roy kent x jamie tartt #royjamie #jamieroy #roy jamie #jamie roy #lucy writes

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draisaitleons · 22 days

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staring at my wips and then opening a new doc to start another fic like i didn't promise myself i would finish at least one before i started something new

#lucy writes #mean dom gibby you live rent free and i hate you !

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wingsaloof · 4 months

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step out of your bubble

Gloria's life has been upside down since she met Barbie. Between getting a divorce, quitting a job and starting her own business, it's no wonder she's feeling more worn out than usual these days. She wouldn't exchange it for anything in this planet. rated E 19.7k words (5 chapters) Gloria/Barbie | post-canon, getting together, smut and fluff, Gloria-centric

my main project this year was a Barbie fic, and if you told me that two years ago, i'd laugh loudly. however, a friend convinced me and we've given it a shot together! the result is here: humorous, sexy, and a little messy in the best way possible. please enjoy!

#glorbie #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #barbie the movie #lucy writes #2023

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immortalspacelesbian · 9 months

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we’re here, we’re queer, and we’re writing the gayest fairytale retelling ever aka “A Rose Without Thorns”

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charmspoint · 9 months

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#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #lucy writes #satosugu #gojo satoru #suguru geto #curse gojo au

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cyllaeth · 2 years

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medicine (devil in my head)

find on ao3

The night —

Itʼs quiet. Thereʼs barely any sound coming from the streets as if the whole Austin is asleep. Carlos finds it annoying and quite ironic because normally heʼd be begging for a calm and peaceful night like this. Normally, he would be sleeping too, possibly awakened only by the sound of sirens of an ambulance passing through the neighbourhood or a particularly rowdy garbage truck. Tonight is not that night, though.

Tonight the only thing he can hear is the calm and even breathing coming from TK who is sleeping fairly peacefully next to him. He looks very young and vulnerable, his features even softer than usual. His hand is tightly wrapped around Carlosʼ waist like heʼs afraid to let him go. Itʼs almost a miracle that he was able to drift off to sleep. Carlos feels a sting of jealousy; heʼs ashamed of it, he knows itʼs bad but he canʼt help himself. Heʼs all alone with his intrusive thoughts and nothing to distract him.

Nothing that would make his brain stop re-living all these awful memories again and again.

Nothing that would make him forget, even for a moment.

Nothing that would ease his anxiety.

He sighs quietly, gently stroking TKʼs hair. These past few weeks — months even — were rough for both of them. It all started when the arsonist burned down his apartment. Even though Carlos was working in the police department, this was the first time his life was in real danger. Heʼs never been that close to death — and if TK didnʼt stay calm and collected, they would probably both be dead now. Carlos was just there, completely shocked and lost, almost unable to move, just watching how his house was digested by flames.

Sometimes he still dreams about it, waking up abruptly, petrified and upset. He almost feels the taste of the ashes on his tongue, the acrid smell of the fire that burns down his throat and makes his eyes water. The memories of it are still very vivid, very real and it always takes him some time to realise heʼs safe now, in his new home, the danger long gone.

Sometimes, the nightmares are different. Sometimes he dreams about TK on the hospital bed, completely still, fighting for his life. Again. Carlos slowly loses track of times heʼs seen his boyfriend almost dying. At this point, it becomes a habit — every few months heʼs in the hospital room, on the uncomfortable plastic chair, fighting off his fatigue because heʼs so afraid to let TK out of his sight, even for a moment.

This fear only gets worse when the Strandsʼ plane almost crashes. Carlos — once again — can only observe whatʼs going on, not being able to help in any way, with the painful knowledge he was the one to convince TK and Owen to get into that plane. Heʼd never forgive himself if they lost their lives. Heʼs not sure heʼd be even able to live after losing the love of his life. How could he ever recover from something like this?

If this is a goodbye, I can't even hold your hand.

Thinking of it makes him shiver; it doesnʼt help that TK is right next to him, that he can hold his hand, feel the pulse under his fingers, hear his breathing, hear his beating heart. He feels like heʼs spiralling and he needs to get out of bed. Itʼs not an easy task — he doesnʼt want to wake up TK — so he gently manoeuvres to get out from under his boyfriendʼs grip. Then, he goes to the kitchen barefoot and he walks up to the window and looks at the quiet Austin night.

Usually, it has a very calming effect on him. Helps him fall asleep. He knows he should try everything to get some sleep — he needs to — has to — be well-rested and able to focus on work. He takes his job seriously; he likes being a cop but, deep down, heʼs afraid that heʼs not doing enough, that he will fail anyway. TK always says heʼs putting too much pressure on himself, that heʼs not even aware of it — and maybe itʼs true. Maybe heʼs too harsh, too strict for himself. Maybe heʼs just good enough but sometimes itʼs hard to believe in it. Especially in the nights like this — when heʼs desperately seeking for a moment of undisturbed peace, a moment to unwind — then his darkest fears and insecurities crawl out to the surface and donʼt let him forget about their existence.

He glances at his watch and lets out a heavy sigh. 4:12am. He should face it: sleep is not gonna come; thereʼs no point in even trying to do it now. He might as well open his laptop and go over the surveillance footage from his latest case. At least he wouldnʼt be just endlessly tossing and turning on the bed, thinking how miserable he feels but actually do something productive, something that could take his mind off things and, perhaps, help him with the investigation. Itʼs a good idea, he thinks but he doesnʼt make any move towards the couch. Heʼs still standing in the same place, glancing through the window as if heʼs stuck there.

“Babe?,” he hears a quiet voice, still hoarse from sleep. This one word is filled with concern, worry, something that Carlos immediately always recognises. He turns around to see his boyfriend; TKʼs standing near the table, still half-asleep but somehow already aware that something is wrong. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Carlos answers immediately. Itʼs a lie but he doesnʼt want TK to worry about him; he has been through enough already. He smiles weakly, hoping that TK wonʼt dive into it too much. “Go back to sleep.”

“I’m not sure if I can when you’re not there with me,” comes out quietly from his boyfriend’s mouth. They both know it’s not an exaggeration; TK has tried many ways to fall asleep but the only thing working so far was to snuggle into Carlos’ arms. Usually, it worked for both of them, soothing their anxiety, but tonight was not that night.

“I’ll drink some water and be right back in bed, okay?” Carlos asks, already walking up to the counter to find a cup and then takes a bottle from the fridge. His hands are visibly trembling when he’s pouring water and he only notices it now. TK notices it too because he gets closer and takes over the bottle, puts it down and covers Carlos’ hands with his.

“Babe.”

This time, it sounds like a plea.

It forces Carlos to look into TK’s eyes, to focus on him. He sees the worry on his pretty face, an expression he has noticed way too many times lately. It physically pains him to see his boyfriend like this and he immediately feels guilty about being the object of TK’s concern.

“Carlos, I know you’re not okay so don’t try to bullshit me.” TK’s voice is demanding but yet gentle, soft. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just… Tired.” Carlos sighs heavily. “I don’t really want to complain, I’m not the one who almost froze to death, whose mom died, I’m not the one who — ”

“No, you’re not.” TK agrees. “But it doesn’t mean you weren’t affected by these situations too. I know it’s been hard for you to watch me… Dying. We’ve never talked about this.”

No, they have not. Carlos knows this topic would come out, eventually; he’s just surprised it’s TK who brings that up. Until now, they have been brushing it off, focusing on other things, pretending to forget about what has happened. Maybe it was better this way. Until now.

“No, we havenʼt.” Carlos hums in agreement and then falls silent. He knows they should talk about it but itʼs hard for him to speak and not feel the same things he had felt then. Heʼs not sure he could just say everything and stay calm and collected. Heʼs convinced that he would break down and itʼs not something he wants TK to see. He doesnʼt want TK to worry about him but the truth is — his boyfriend cares and worries about him as much as him.

“It felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. You know, when I was with you at the hospital. After... After you almost froze,” Carlos manages to say after a few moments of silence. “I thought it couldnʼt get worse after you broke up with me but... Seeing you almost die...”

He takes a small break but TKʼs patient; he just looks at Carlos with nothing but pure softness and admiration.

“After that... I always worry about you. I always fear that something bad will happen, that your life will be in danger again, that I might lose you and it terrifies me. Iʼm not sure if I would survive this,” Carlos confesses quietly. Itʼs scary, to talk about his fears out loud. Itʼs scary to even think about them but he canʼt stop himself when his thoughts drift away to the dangerous waters. Itʼs stronger than him.

“Hey,” TK interrupts his thoughts and raises his hands to softly caress his face, “look at me, babe and listen to me carefully. I can’t promise you that I won’t be in a dangerous situation again because we both know you can’t avoid risks when you’re a paramedic. Or a police officer. But I can promise you that I will always fight to come back to you. I love you and I don’t plan to be gone from this world soon. You can’t get rid of me that easily. And if I’m dead — be sure I will come back as a ghost and haunt you.”

The end of TK’s little speech makes Carlos chuckle; he always knows how to lighten up the mood and Carlos is thankful for that at this moment. He tugs him closer and embraces him in a bone-crushing hug. “Not gonna lie, I love your hugs,” says TK, the corners of his mouth curling into a full smile, “but on a serious note… I know you worry about me but I worry about you too. And… If there’s anything, anything that makes you anxious, upset… Please don’t keep it from me, tell me about it and maybe we can find a solution. Or... Or maybe help me find someone else with whom you can talk about it. I bet my therapist has someone to recommend. And it might actually help a lot, you know?”

“I know,” Carlos reassures him, “I’m not opposed to going to therapy or something. I just… I thought I could handle it by myself. I was wrong, though.”

“It doesn’t mean you’re weak and useless. It only means that you’re brave enough to open up to people and accept the fact people love and care for you. That they want to help you, they want you to be happy. I want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy,” says Carlos sweetly, “well… Most of the time.”

“Hey!” TK nudges him lightly. “I thought I always make you happy! But… What would you say to a day off? We could stay at home, do nothing, maybe order some food and just… Rest? Sleep?”

“Sounds really good. I think I could use some sleep,” Carlos agrees. He feels the tiredness creeping up to him just now, he feels his muscles loosening up — like that heavy weight on his shoulders was suddenly lifted. He’s aware that his fears won’t disappear right away, that maybe they will always be there but he also knows that he has a chance to overcome his anxiety, learn to live with them, find his peace.

“I think I can help with that,” TK says, taking his hand and leading him to their bedroom.

–

Later that day Carlos wakes up in TK’s arms — which is a pleasant change — and feels calm and rested for the first time in weeks.

#911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos #tk x carlos #tarlos fic #tarlos fanfic #tarlos fanfiction #tarlos ficlet #911 lone star fic #lucy writes #i fucked up the ending #like i always do lmao

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 3 months

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✨Sensitivity✨

I am an absolute SLUT for Luci’s wings so I wanted to write something with them :), huge thank you to @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis for the help 💖

Also I’m legit on a cruise ship rn, but @amberlouise473 knows I gotta feed y’all like I’m tossing corn to my chickens 🤣

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You’re super curious about Lucifer’s wings, but neither of you knew how sensitive they were. You didn’t know how sensitive you could be either…

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, ruined clothes, pet names, oral (f receiving), face riding, over stimulation, multiple orgasms

It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.

“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!

With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”

“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why you had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”

A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…

Perhaps that was a question for another time.

“Are they heavy?,” you inquired.

“Oh! Umm, I don’t think so,” Lucifer pondered. “I don’t really notice if they are. I might have gotten used to them over the last 10,000 or so years.”

“Can I…touch them?,” you asked shyly, averting Lucifer’s gaze.

He smiled. “Of course, love. Let’s go back to our room, shall we?”

Lucifer’s wings disappeared for now as he gently grabbed your hand and led you out of his office. Once you reached your bedroom, he unfastened his shirt and threw it off to the side. It made you blush, even though his bare chest was not a new sight to you. Lucifer noticed your reddened face and smirked.

“It’s a little easier this way, don’t you think?,” he chuckled. He walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing his legs in the process. He tapped his thigh, offering you a seat in his lap. You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, straddling him. “You ready?,” he asked with a little smile. You nodded your head eagerly. In an instant, his three sets wings appeared again. You noticed something was a little different though.

“I could have sworn they were bigger,” you puzzled.

“No, you’re right, they were,” Lucifer laughed. “I can control how large or small they need to be. They might have broken something in here if they were any bigger!”

You chuckled lightly. They were even more breathtaking up close, his scarlet feathers glistened even in the dim lighting of the room. You stuck out your hands and touched the top of his first set of wings. Unexpectedly, Lucifer inhaled sharply from your touch, screwing his eyes shut. You pulled away instantly.

“Oh no!,” you gasped. “Did I hurt you? I swear I barely touched them! I’m sorry!”

Lucifer exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. “No, no, it’s alright, love,” he cooed, “it wasn’t painful. I just didn’t expect the sensation. Let’s just say they’re…more sensitive than I originally thought.” It was only then you felt a bump forming between your legs.

Oh…OH!

You quickly caught on to what he was referring to. And having you straddle his lap probably wasn’t helping. A small smirk crept across your face. You couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm from your touch; the thought excited you.

“Well, in that case…” you smiled slyly, reaching out for his wings once more. This time, you gave them a slightly firmer grip than before. Lucifer nearly yelped from your touch and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hands up and down the tops of his wings, almost massaging them in a way. Lucifer was unable to hold back his moans.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he panted.

You loved the sight of him bending so easily to your simple touches. You wondered if you could break him. You began to shift your hips in his lap, grinding on the now very apparent bulge in his pants. Lucifer nearly sobbed as you ground your hips against him. You moved your hands down to his second set of wings to give them some attention. You could tell he was unraveling quickly.

“D-Dear,” he choked out, “i-if you don’t stop, I’m g-gonna…f-fuck…”

His plea only made you grind against him at a faster pace while continuing to stroke his sensitive wings. At this point he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, only broken moans and gutural sounds left his lips. You moved your hands down to his smallest set of his wings, pinching them between your fingers.

“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” Lucifer cried out as your movements finally pushed him over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, completely ruining in pants. Once he came down from his high, he looked into your eyes, almost distraught.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His wings disappeared from sight as he buried his head into you chest

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you told him as you lifted his head up to plant a tender kiss to his lips. The small tears that had formed in his eyes fell down the side of his face, but you wiped them away with your thumbs. “Luci, please don’t apologize,” you soothed. “You never have to feel sorry for that! Did you feel good?”

Lucifer steadied his breathing, trying his best to calm down. “Yes, love, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the mattress while he stood up, discarding the rest of his now filthy clothes. “But I absolutely refuse to be the only one being pleasured tonight.”

Without warning, Lucifer leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, filing your mouth with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, feeling as though you might be devoured by him. Lucifer tugged at the hem of your pajama pants, asking permission to remove them. “Mhmm,” was all you could mumble. In one swift motion, your pants had vanished and all you felt was the cool air on your legs. Lucifer brought down his fingers to your folds, loving the feeling of how wet you were for him. He captured your moan on his lips, but suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you to whine in protest.

Lucifer broke your kiss and brought his soaked finger to his lips, tasting your sweet nectar. “Mmm, you always taste so delectable, darling,” he marveled. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, he knew just what buttons to press when it came to you. He crawled back up on the bed and laid flat on his back, his head propped up by the pillows. “Come have a seat, sweetheart,” he teased as he pointed to his coy smiling face.

Your face became extreme hot as you crawled towards the demon king. You made your way on top of him and came to a halt when your dripping cunt hovered right above Lucifer’s eager smile.

“A meal fit for a king, truly,” he laughed as he dug his face into your aching pussy. You nearly screamed as his forked tongue worked his magic along your slit. He devoured you, making sure every inch of you was consumed. His lips found your clit and started to kiss and suck at it. He’d only just started and you were ready to snap.

“O-Oh my God, Lucifer, shhhiiittt, I’m so close…s-s-so close…,” you whined.

“God can’t hear you down here, angel,” he teased you before continuing to lap at your folds. He made quick work of you, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“Fuuuuccckkkk, imcummingIMCUMMIMG,” you screamed as you finally felt your walls clench and spasm around nothing. Lucifer happily swallowed your juices as your orgasm started to recede. You tried to lift yourself up off Lucifer’s face, but he kept a firm grip on your legs.

“I’m not done with you, love,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, golden shackles formed around your ankles, the chain hooked underneath Lucifer’s back. A twisted look of fear and passion flashed across your face. You were trapped.

“L-Luci…what are you-” you tried to asked but were cut off by another long lick up your sensitive cunt. A gutural moan escaped your mouth, you still hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm.

“I thought it would only be fair to ruin you, since you ruined my clothes,” he chastised playfully. “But if at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll let you go immediately, okay?”

“Al-Alright,” you stuttered, trembling from the anticipation.

Lucifer hummed against your lower lips. “I’ll make this a little easier for you, sweetheart.” You saw Lucifer’s form start to change beneath you. His horns had erupted from his head while his eyes shifted to a deep red and gold color with onyx irises. “Something for you to hold onto,” he murmured sensually.

Tentatively, you took hold of his horns and braced yourself for his next move. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tongue attacking your cunt once more. The grip you had on his horns could have torn your skin clean off with how tight you were holding them while he nipped and sucked your overstimulated clit. Before you knew it, your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Then your third, your fourth, your cunt was getting absolutely abused by Lucifer who hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down since he started. After your fifth orgasm washed over you, your legs had given out from under you, completely collapsing on top of Lucifer.

“No more…,” you begged. “No more, please…”

Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shackles around your ankles disappeared in an instant. You conjured up the remainder of your strength to push yourself off him and roll over onto your side, an absolutely breathless mess. You could hardly keep your eyes open. You could feel yourself losing consciousness until Lucifer pulled you flush to his chest.

“You did so well, my dear,” he murmured against your ear. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“Sleep…” was all you could muster. Lucifer chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.

“Goodnight, love,” you heard him whisper as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was the best sleep you ever had.

~~~~

“I just think they’re neat!” - Me w/ Lucifer’s wings also Lucifer inventend pussy eating, this is fact, ALSO also something something handlebar horns

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #my writing #I’m not sorry for this #this was super self indulgent 😂#enjoy the new goofy Luci face!#a goofy face is my calling card lol #I was writing a lot of this in a public area I hope y’all appreciate the risks I take lmao

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lucybellwood · 9 months

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Another piece I did for The Nib back in 2015! Gonna keep posting these until they shut down at the end of the summer. It was such a treat to hear that Matt and the whole editorial team just won an Eisner for their work on the magazine and website. Much-deserved.

Anyway: this is a parody and isn't representative of every screenwriter's experience, but it certainly feels relevant with all the strikes rolling out right now. Did you know what kind of credit you get on a film directly impacts how much you're paid? For writers you'll see "created by," "written by," "story by," and all sorts of other things, all of which translate to different levels of compensation! (Highlander, for example, has Story by Gregory Widen and Screenplay by my dad and his writing partner, Larry Ferguson.) The Writer's Guild is often responsible for arbitrating those decisions. They have a whole MANUAL to help writers understand the process. It rules.

Thanks, WGA. Thanks, The Nib. (And you can always make more of these comics possible on Patreon.)

#hollywood #do the write thing #wga strike #wga strong #film credits #highlander #the nib #comics #personal work #babies #film industry #lucy bellwood

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goosetheluce · 8 months

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It's Been a While (Gwen Stacy x Fem!Reader)

requested by anon: "can I req one where it's like a little reunion after atsv? Like before she goes and sees her dad she goes and sees reader bc she's been missing for months and Gwen's probably worried at first but readers just too happy to see her again.maybe a little friends to lovers, thank youuuuu☺️☺️☺️"

info: decently angsty, physical affection (kissing, hugging, hand holding), crying, flashbacks, desperate!gwen, gwen 3rd person pov, cussing, use of y/n

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Gwen's entire body was crawling with nerves as she flung out her webs. She surged through her home city with poise and elegance. Her anxiety was shielded on the outside; Spider-Woman always had to be collected, breezy, perfect. Even now. Especially now, considering the news cameras and helicopters pointed at her. She could only imagine the headlines being displayed all across New York:

Vigilante "Spider-Woman" Makes An Appearance After Months

Masked Hero Re-Appears

Ghost-Spider Visits During Violent Era Beginning Without Her

She groaned in frustration, doing her best to outrun the nightcrawlers and news stations. Her father was probably getting his force ready to incarcerate her that very moment. A chill spread across her skin, and it wasn't the frigid rain.

She swung into an alleyway, ripping her mask off to catch her breath. Her time before Miles was put in real danger was ticking away, and this game of cat and mouse certainly wasn't helping. She sighed and sunk down the brick wall in exhaustion. Gwen needed to figure something out before she was cornered in the labyrinth that was New York City.

She listened to the cars screeching in the distance, listened to the bar fights, the laughter of a group of teenage girls past their curfews. It was by no means a city of sunshine, but she desperately missed her life.

Desperately missed you.

Gwen pulled her hood over her head as far as possible, ignoring the sting filling her eyes. She sighed shakily, breath condensing in the autumn thunder.

She needed to see you. Besides, it's not like she had much of a choice.

God, why did I have to make my suit bright fucking white? Maybe then these idiots would leave me alone.

Even now she heard the choppers pulsing in the sky. She wondered with a shudder how many were police force. Gotta get out of this suit.

She slipped her mask back on and set off. See, Gwen would never commit a crime with malicious intent. Hell, she was Spider-Woman, but she couldn't see any other way blend into the city without the chance of bumping into her dad at the apartment.

So she robbed a clothing store.

As gently as possible, but unfortunately that still meant damage. Gwen huffed. Had it really come down to this?

She pulled her arm back, flinching away from the window as she shattered it with a simple punch, even whispered "sorry" as if that changed anything. The shards clinked against the sleek-tiled floor of the Nike shop and she hopped inside with ease.

Don't have much time, she noted. The alert system wailed deafeningly as she shot webs at every security camera and stole the footage for that night. She raced through the store, grabbing a pair of black sweatpants and a navy blue winter compression shirt. She changed right there in the store with the cameras blinded. She swiped a drawstring bag and stuffed her suit and mask inside. She kneeled down to lace up her converse tightly. She still had a long way to go to your flat.

Gripping the strings of her bag tightly, she raced away. The rain had stopped, but the storm still threatened deep rumbles of thunder a couple of miles away. Her swift footsteps splashed through grimey puddles lit by orange streetlamps. The city seemed more perilous than ever as sirens screamed and guns fired, and guilt struck her chest.

Internally thanking her enhanced speed and endurance, Gwen stared up at your window not even ten minutes after she fled the store. Now came the hardest part: facing you, her closest friend, after she joined the society. Truthfully, she missed the warmth gifted to her from your loving arms. Something her dad never gave her before she left.

She paced around the block over and over again, wondering what the hell she was supposed to say to you. "Hey, I'm back after months of radio silence, and don't mind that I just crawled up your wall because it turns out I've been a human-spider freak this whole time. Missed you too."

Suddenly, it didn't matter what Gwen wanted to say anymore, because a police car was turning the corner.

"Fuck!"

She dashed up the wall and onto the roof, crouching to avoid any nearby helicopters. She released her breath in relief. She shook out her body and rubbed her temples. This was it. She began to crawl down the face of the complex, hoping she'd remember the right window.

Perk number 42 of being bitten by a radioactive spider.

She peered inside the window of your bedroom. It was convenient for her in the moment, but Gwen made a note to scold you for leaving your blinds open. She reached her hand out, hesitated, then curled it into a fist and gently tapped. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She saw you look up from your school laptop in confusion.

It's one in the morning and this woman is really doing homework.

Gwen tapped again.

"Y/N!" she called out softly. "Y/N, let me in!"

She heard a muffled "what the fuck?" through the glass.

"Gwen?" you whisper screamed in disbelief, unlocking your window and pulling it open. Your jaw went slack as Gwen simply jumped off the wall while diving into your window.

"Y/N, before you say anything, let me explain," she frantically rambled. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Please." Her eyes opened slowly to see you. Her body went rigid.

Fuck, she's crying.

Tears were welling and threatening to spill out from your eyes. Your fists were clenched so tightly that your nails left crescent moons gouged into your palms.

"What the hell was that?" you laughed breathily before rushing forward to hug her. You practically constricted her as you wrapped your arms around her waist. She had no idea what to do for a moment. Her own emotions were about to overflow and wash her composure away. Gwen settled for squishing her cheek against yours while holding you tight. As she rubbed your back, your sobs quieted.

You pulled away, wiping the wetness away from your eyes and lips. Gwen's stare lingered as your thumb grazed over your bottom lip out of habit. You stood up a little bit taller.

"It's been a while, Gwen."

Her stance jerked a little, barely even noticeable.

"I know. I've got a lot to explain to you, if you're willing to listen." You nodded firmly, turning around to sit back down on your bed. You patted the space adjacent to you.

Gwen took seat, spreading her legs out comfortably and resting her forearms on her knees. Her posture was slanted; it was still hard for her to make eye contact with you. She didn't want to find anger or disappointment in those eyes she had stared into one too many times. Eyes that haunted her in the most tragically beautiful manner possible.

"I disappeared," Gwen began hesitantly. "But not without a reason. So much has happened in the last two years, I just...I guess it all came to one single point and that was it for me. I had no chances left, no risks to take. It was over."

Her explanation was raw, quivering and vulnerable. Your heart began to race, wondering what she'd say next. You had no idea what was going on; yeah, Gwen did ballet and gymnastics or whatever, but that little trick she did to get into your window was no joke.

She jumped up from the bed and turned to face you.

I have to do this now.

"This is the craziest part, but you have to believe me," she whispered. Fear coated her rocky voice and widened her eyes. You blinked at her in reassurance, smiling a bit.

"Gwen, just tell me. You know I'll listen."

She sighed heavily and grabbed her bag off the floor. "Okay. Give me a second. And don't make any noise when I come out." She slipped into your closet and shut the door silently behind her. The light flickered on and leaked out from underneath the doorframe. You watched her shadow move fluidly.

Inside the closet, Gwen was hyperventilating as she fit herself into her suit. She looked into the body-length mirror sitting on your floor, and a tear traced down her cheek. She was staring at her worst enemy, and she despised who she saw in the suit. Spider-Woman was a different entity.

She turned around and faced the closet door. Gwen placed her hand on the knob, taking a deep breath before turning it and pushing it open. She couldn't look at you, but when she tried, you weren't there. Her blood froze in her own veins.

Gwen was back in that collapsed building, that very same night, staring her father's gun down.

"Why the fuck am I here?" she questioned, panic filling her voice. She looked around, desperately trying to find your apartment, your face. Her movements suddenly were not her own anymore as she involuntarily turned to face her father. Her hands were lifted up above her head, but they sank down. One inched toward her mask.

No.

Her body didn't listen. Her fingers met her chin, grasping the enhanced material concealing her face from the world.

No!

She felt the cool air hit her lips, then her nose, and finally her weary eyes. She watched her father's face contort into horror and disbelief. Gwen finally found the ability to force her eyes to shut, tears spilling out. When she opened them again, she was back in your closet.

"Gwen? What's taking so long?" you called out quietly from your room.

She gasped for air, clutching her chest as she spasmed in silence. She aggressively rubbed her arm over her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying.

I have to do this. What happened before doesn't matter. I have to save things with her.

Once more, Gwen turned the handle and stepped out. She was relieved to find you sitting on your bed, staring at her.

"Uh, nice costume Gwen, but I was kinda hoping for you to finish your explanation?" you sarcastically jabbed.

"Y/N..." Gwen groaned. "It's not a costume."

You scoffed, becoming impatient.

"Really! It isn't, Y/N!" Gwen frantically begged with you to understand. You crossed your arms.

"How am I supposed to believe you're Spider-Woman?"

Gwen shoved her face into her hands. Her frustration boiled.

"You're gonna believe me after this," she nearly growled, flitting forward and taking you in her arms. She slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your protest. She pulled her mask down and shot a web out of your window, slingshotting out of your room and into the night.

You were a mile away from your apartment in a matter of seconds while Gwen (Spider-Woman...?) held you firmly in her left arm, tossing you lightly in the air before you landed on her back. She guided your arms and legs to wrap tightly around her back as you let out a shriek. Your hair flew straight behind you in the cold wind.

"Gwen, I fucking believe you now," you choked out into her ear. You could barely speak in your terror. The eyes of her suit went wide and she aimed for the top of another building.

She landed perfectly en pointe, her converse flexing to match the arch of her technique.

"Shit, Y/N, I'm so sorry-"

Gwen's apology was cut short as you gripped her broad shoulders.

"You're motherfucking Spider-Woman!" you yelled in awe. A thick sheet of rain was nearing as Gwen's eyes welled behind the mask.

"You don't think I'm a bad person? Or...or a freak?" she whispered shakily. Your face softened. You slid your hands up from her shoulders, caressing her face. Her eyes squinted before closing as she leaned into your touch. She reached her own hand up and cupped yours. Gwen's soul lit afire as she stared at your gorgeous face, felt the warmth of your love and bare skin.

You simply shook your head.

"What a dumb question. You're my best friend. And when you left, I...I mean, I guess I just didn't know what to do with myself. I lost a part of me."

The words coming out of your mouth felt wrong. Gwen's heart screamed in desolation. Maybe you would never understand.

Best friend.

"You lost a part of yourself, but I couldn't breathe without you," she murmured, bringing her other hand up to find more ways to touch you.

Your heart began to pound as her fingers laced with yours. The rain began to fall over you, drenching Gwen for the second time that night. What did she mean by that? You could have sworn you felt her rapid pulse intensify even more as you experimentally pressed your forehead against hers.

"Gwen..."

You brought your hands (still cupping her face) down to the base of her mask, forcing her own hands to fall away. You traced circles into her skin before gently sliding the disguise up above her lips.

Gwen painfully rasped your name while her digits found your skin again, this time resting timidly on the small of your back. She needed this so badly from you all these years, even more so as your face became a tale, something she could only dream of.

"Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. Please, please, please, just kiss me and never let me leave your side again, I'd do anything for you, Y/N-" she began to sob, but you caught her trembling lips in yours. Gwen immediately pulled you deeper into her hold, your bodies fitting together like a beautiful puzzle. Her fingers tangled into your hair and she pulled her mask all the way off. Her hood fell and her blonde waves began to frizz and tighten with the rain.

She savored the taste of your lip balm and the remnants of your bedtime herbal tea, picking you up and allowing you to wrap your legs around her. You pulled away, breathless and eyes filled with the starlight that the stormy midnight lacked.

"I love you, Gwen," you breathed. "But you're back for a reason. I don't know what reason that is, but you have to do it. We're counting on you."

Gwen nodded, dropping you safely and kneeling down to fit her mask back over her face and to allow you to cling to her.

"You forgot something, Ghost-Spider," you teased, sliding her hood over her head.

She scoffed, looking back at you with narrowed eyes. "That's Gwen to you."

In no time, you were delivered back to your warm bed. The rain pattered soothingly against your window while Gwen dried her suit off with a towel you lent to her. She eventually settled for just laying the towel down on your bed and sitting on it.

"So...are you my superhero girlfriend now, or am I about to wake up from the most story-oriented dream of my life?"

Gwen laughed softly. Everything in her life was fucked, but you brought a glow back to her existence. She had something to look forward to now. She pushed her hand to lock with yours.

"For the record, if this is a dream, then you and I are definitely imaginary girlfriends. But, since this is hopefully real life..." she assured, squeezing your hand. "Yeah, I'm your superhero girlfriend." You began to fluster, heat creeping across your cheeks.

Gwen stood up, still holding your smaller hand in her stronger grasp.

"Which unfortunately also means I've gotta do superhero girlfriend stuff," she sighed, brushing her hair behind her heavily pierced ear. She looked at you apologetically as your grip on her tightened.

"Hey, we'll see each other again. I promise," she whispered, pressing a sugary kiss to your lips before backing away, her fingers slipping out of your reach. She pulled her mask down swiftly before turning around and leaping out of your window.

"I love you!" you shouted after her. Gwen beamed as she jumped through the city, posing in a recital-like fashion for the cameras when she lowered to the streets.

The rain didn't feel so cold anymore.

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a/n: thanks for reading!! if you're sapphic and in love with gwen then. definitely check my other gwen fics out hehe. been thinkingggg about a villain gwen x fem!reader au? let me know by sending smth to my inbox as a request or commenting !

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