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#my mom wonders why I'm not sleeping yet

xdjville · 1 month

Text

nct dream's voicemails

pairing: nct dream x gn!reader

genre: really all of them are different genres so idk buckle up; angst, established relationship (mark); comfort, established relationship (renjun); friends who have a thing going on and the dreamies are menaces (jeno); classmates, acquaintances but you're kinda cute (haechan); sick reader, fluff, established relationship (jaemin); basketball player and his "friend", bonus: he's drunk (chenle); idol x non idol, established relationship, kind of angsty if you squint but not really (jisung)

cw: cursing in mark's and jeno's, chenle's under the influence and he calls reader "pretty"

#mark

"i'm sorry. look, i... i know you probably don't want to talk to me right now, i get it. i shouldn't have said any of that and i'm so fucking sorry. i hate what i did and i have no excuse for being an asshole to you, but it's been almost two hours since you left and honestly i'm so worried i'm losing my mind. you don't have to come back yet, or call me back if you don't want to, but please, for the love of god, just let me know you're somewhere safe. shit, i'm so, so sorry. let's talk when you're ready, okay? i'll sleep on the couch tonight, so if you come back you can take the bedroom. i'm sorry. i love you."

#renjun

"hi, y/n. i'm sorry for calling so late, but, uh, i wanted to check up on you, you seemed a bit off today. maybe i'm imagining things, i don't know, but i couldn't stop thinking about it so i still wanted to ask. you don't have to tell me now, we can talk about it whenever you're comfortable, or not at all if you don't want to. just know i'm here for you, okay? it's normal to have worse days, so i'll try not to worry too much. i hope you'll feel better when you wake up in the morning. call me tomorrow, hm? we can go to that new ice cream place you told me about. sleep well, love you."

#jeno

"jesus, can you guys shut the fuck up– hey, uh, sorry for that, it's jeno. um, i'm calling because we're going to get some drinks at the bar down the street later tonight, and i– we were wondering if you maybe wanna tag along? we thought it could be fun hanging out outside of class since the semester is almost over. it's fine if you're busy though, no pressure. we're going out around, uh, nine, i think? so if you're up, call me back and i'll give you the details, yeah? alright, that's all, talk to you later. seriously, you guys are such fucking–"

#haechan

"uhm... hi, it's donghyuck. you probably didn't pick up since you don't have my number, but, uh, i called tell you that you left your sunglasses at the library yesterday. i asked mark for your number because we won't see each other untill chem next week and i thought you might need them, so... if you'd like to get them back just let me know? we could meet at the library again, or at get a coffee... or something. or i can give them to you in chem. whatever works for you! i don't mind either. just, uh, just let me know, okay? bye."

#jaemin

"hi, baby. how are you holding up? you must be sleeping, that's good. you need a lot of rest, hm? i hope by the time you're listening to this you will be feeling a little better. did your fever go down yet? there's food from my mom that i left in your fridge, you should eat that, i'm sure it's going to set you up. remember to stay hydrated too, yeah? i'll drop by with some groceries tonight, so let me know if you want anything specific. now rest well, love, i'll see you later."

#chenle

"y/n... you told me to call you when i get home, so why didn't... why aren't you pickin' up? well i– i'm home now, and, uh... renjun drove me there, so don't worry. anyways... i wanted t'say thank you, for coming to the game today. i honestly think we won only because you were there. you looked like... really, really... pretty. like... super pretty. when you, uh, hugged me after the match, i almost kissed you, you know? you're like my lucky charm... yeah, my lucky charm. i wanted to kiss you really bad. i wish you were here now so i could kiss you. can you come over tomorrow? mhm, 'm gonna go to bed now. bye, y/n–"

#jisung

"hey, how are you doing? it must be the middle of the night for you, you're probably asleep. i hope i didn't wake you up, i'm sorry if i did... i called you because i wanted to hear your voice. i, uh... i miss you, a lot. we had a day to ourselves to explore a bit, it was fun! it really was. but the whole time i couldn't stop thinking about how much more fun it would be with you there. i didn't want to kill the mood for the others, but i couldn't help missing you more today. did you miss me more, too? maybe it's like a soulmate thing... god, i sound so cheesy right now. anyways, the guys said they miss you too. chenle said we should all get hotpot together when we're done with the tour. sounds nice, right? oh, this voicemail is getting long... let's talk when you wake up, i'll call you after the concert. i lo– i miss you. sleep tight."

#taglist ➼♡ @bambisnc @suzayaaa

©xdjville

#nct imagines #nct reactions #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #nct fanfic #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #nct dream #nct #kpop fluff #kpop angst

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gojos-thot-patrol · 8 months

Note

listen .. i could go off all day about sukuna’s little family but but please thoughts of little baby boy and his bottom eyes haven’t opened yet and his mom is waiting excitedly because sukuna didn’t know his son wouldn’t be able to open his four eyes for the first 6 months of his life!! wondering how long it took him!!! big surprise when those little blinky eyes are mommy’s 🤭

SKIHDKHDKGSLHDOYDOY

Two lines of soft, whispy eyelashes. That was the only thing that marked the two little lines under your son's wide wondrous eyes as eyes. He as already 6 months old, and yet he still refused to open them.

"Give him time Darling, he'll open them when he's ready" Sukuna reminded you gently when he caught you gently caressing your sleeping baby's cheek, no doubt looking at those eyelashes.

"I know, I know im just...I'm so excited!" You confessed, "You said he'd open them any day now, I'm dying to know what they look like..."

"They're probably going to look like his eyes" Sukuna chuckled softly. This wasn't him being an ass either. Your son had bright, crimson red eyes that perfectly matched his fathers. Eyes that he used to take in the world with bright excitement and wonder. It was entirely reasonable to assume his second set of eyes would match his main set.

"Hey, your eyes don't match!" You reminded him, only for him to raise a questioning eyebrow at you. "Your second set has cat eye pupils."

"Oh please," he scoffed, rolling all four eyes. "Thats such a minor difference."

"Its still a difference!"

"Y/n, you're being-" he was cut off by the baby fussing in his bassinet, done with his nap and no doubt ready for lunch. Ryomen joined you by your side as you picked up the child, cradling him in your arms.

"Good morning sunshine!" You cooed softly. You watched as your sons eyes fluttered open, bright red irises greeting you. He giggled and kicked in your arms, ready to move and get back to the day.

And then those thin little eyelashes started to flutter. Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt Ryomen wrap his arm around you-pulling you closer in anticipation.

Slowly, his secondary set of eyes fluttered to life. And your gorgeous eyes blinked back at you.

"Well I'll be damned-" Sukuna laughed softly as he looked at his sons mis-matched eyes. You squealed with delight as you bounced you baby.

"Yes!" You cheered, "finally! Something about you looks like me!" You celebrated, peppering your giggling sons face with kisses.

"Wait, is that why you've been so excited for him to open his eyes?!" Ryomen couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

"Yes!" You laughed back, "I carried him for nine months, it wasn't fair he looked exactly like you!"

"Hey, it's not my fault my genes are stronger." He shrugged with a smug smirk. You blew a raspberry at him.

"You can say that all you want, but in the end he has my eyes." You hummed.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader fluff #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #Ryomen sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader fluff #dad sukuna #dadkuna #whats up nonny?

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 3 months

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Can you write hcs for Luke and a daughter of Hypnos (😴)

PLEASE

🥰

(If possible?)

⋆⭒˚.⋆ luke castellan x daughter of hypno! reader hcs

content: luke castellan x daughter of hypno! reader hcs warning: so soft you'll puke tho tbh minor mentions of luke's angst author's note: why do i love this more than life itself???? i dunno, you tell me. i kinda wish it was longer but yo girl outta ideas. also, i think im so fucking funny for that last line like hello guys where is my oscar for funniest teen girl to exist????

lukey pookie and his sleepy girl frrrrr

you guys were, like, aware of each other but not like friends, ya know???

until his quest - well, failed quest

he kept having nightmares, horrors of the shame on his father's face, visions of his mother hearing the news had he actually died, terrible dreams of demented dragons and enough golden apples to drown in

chris noticed and suggest luke go see you, hypno's best daughter

chris knew you following a head injury that had him scared he was going to fall into a coma, but the apollo cabin had called you over to sooth his nerves.

you were also often called in when new, younger campers were struggling to sleep, which made the a common but distant face in the hermes cabin

and chris just knew you could do wonders for luke's recent sleep problems

after a little bit of resistance, luke finally went to you

he'd had the worst nightmare yet, leaving him with huge bags under his eyes and a tension in his shoulders that he couldn't seem to loose

he figured it quite literally couldn't get any worse, so he knocked on the door of cabin fifteen, already feeling slightly more at peace from just standing outside it

then a pretty girl opened the door, a cute yawn hidden behind her hand

"h-hey! luke, right? what can i do for ya?" you muttered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before beaming a soft smile at the boy

luke choked on nothing, attempting to get words out but his tongue kept getting in the way and all that came out was chortled noises

you giggled softly, unable to keep them in despite the boys growing blush

"i-i- chris, he said- er, something about you being able to help me sleep with you- sorry! no, sleep, just, you know, in general," luke finally managed to spit out, his brain working overtime and the words coming out all wrong

you giggled at the boy once more before leaning forwards and grasping his wrist, tugging him into your cabin

you gestured towards one of the free, fluffy beds, disappearing off to somewhere, though you kept talking to the boy

"chris is really worried about you, ya know. i almost had to visit you, which we don't do very often. here, you want some tea?? lavender or chamomile? i prefer the chamomile but i think you'd like the lavender," you rambled, sitting beside him in the bed criss cross and presenting him with a mug and holding up two separate tea bags

"chamomile's fine," luke replied, taking the teabag from you, not wanting to mention that it reminded him of his mom but it reminded him of his mom

"chamomile's great!" you joked, bumping your shoulder with his

a few minutes passed of just luke drinking the tea and yawning before you mentioned that he should lie down, removing the mug from his hands

he was resistant, admittedly, not wanting to risk seeing more horrible things in his head

but you took his hand into yours, gently running your fingers along the veins and bones that you could just feel through his skin

"you think i'm just here for shits and giggles?? nah, i'm here to fistfight the boogie man. and lemme tell ya, these fists are lethal," you joke, winking at the boy, who laughed, settling into the soft pillows and blanket

but most importantly, he was settling into your presence, the hold you had on his hand, the soothing that your voice did to his brain and heart

and luke fell asleep, peacefully drifting off to the sounds of your hums and the feeling of your soft fingers ghosting over his skin

for the first time in a long while, luke castellan slept like a baby, warm and coddled and trusting that nothing bad could happen to him

not with the defender of REM cycle there

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan

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anangelwhodidntfall · 1 year

Text

Good Enough: Dad!Jake Sully

Avatar Masterlist

word count: 1k

description: Once your father’s world, you start acting out when he starts ignoring you and only your father can figure out what is going on

Jake and Neytiri were at loss, especially Jake he didn't understand what was going on with you lately and why you were acting out so much. All you ever did anymore was talk back and argue with them, and they couldn't figure out why, usually Lo'ak was the problem child, not you. Today was the final straw when you snuck out to join the war party after Jake specifically told you to stay behind and watch Tuk and help with the wounded, something you clearly didn't agree with.

"Jesus, I let you two geniuses fly a mission and you disobey direct orders," he sighed. "Not to mention you almost got your sister killed!" He said to Neteyam and Lo'ak who you felt bad for, your dad was always so hard on them.

"I came on my own." You said rolling your eyes and making Jake whip his head in your direction.

"What did you say?" He asked.

"I said I.came.on.my.own. and that these two tried to get me to return home and I didn't listen to them, so if it's anyone's fault, it's mine." You said looking in dead in the eye as Jake was rendered speechless at you.

"I'll deal with you later." He said tiredly running a hand down his face.

"Yeah, it's always later with you." You mumbled as you left the tent and went to go see your grandmother so she could look at you.

After getting looked at by your grandma, you headed back to your tent hoping to get some sleep, making sure to avoid your father and how much he couldn't see how much you were hurting and that you were acting out to get his attention. You had been laying there silently crying when you heard your parents talking, probably assuming you were asleep.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do with her, I can't keep doing this." Your father said.

"Jake she's just going through something...l can try and talk to her." Your mother offered.

"I know she is....but why can't she be more like Neteyam or Kiri, you know?" He said breaking your heart as you realized you were never gonna be good enough for him.

"Ma Jake, don't talk like that...she is perfect just the way she is, sure her attitude could use some fixing but I still love her as the day she was born and so should you." Your mother said to him but it was too late as you knew how he truly felt.

You waited until everyone was asleep and decided to go for a night-time flight to clear your head and think about everything. You walked over to your Ikran and climbed on top of her before taking off. After flying for a bit, you landed in a pasture and just relaxed trying to calm your thoughts wondering if one day you would be good enough for your father.

Jake was restless that night, hating that yours and his relationship were so strained, there used to be a day when you weren't seen without him and now you were practically strangers. He got up and went to check on you when he saw your tent empty making him worry as you and ikran were gone. He climbed on top of his and circled around looking for you or Ikran until he saw you both which he let out a sigh of relief.

"If you have come to yell at me or lecture me more, please go." You said not even looking at him which broke his heart.

"I haven't. Baby girl I just wanna figure out what's been going on with us lately?" He said taking a seat next to you.

"Why? It's not actually like you care." You said turning away from him and making him frown at your words.

"Hey talk to me. Where is this coming from?" He asked gently and even more worried.

"I heard what you said to mom about how you wish I was more like Kiri or Neteyam..Do you realize I've been acting out to get your attention because I don't feel good enough for you! You the one who trained me and yet you don't let me go out on missions but you'll tell Lo'ak of all people?? How am I supposed to feel when I'm told to sit here and take care of others when I know I could be out there helping you and mom? You don't talk to me or have any time for me and I hate that so much, it's always later baby girl, or not now baby girl. I miss our relationship but it doesn't seem like you do." You said breaking down into tears as Jake sat there in shock at your words before moving towards you and gathering in his arms.

Jake held you in his arms gently rocking you as he tried to calm you down while he also processed your words, he never meant to make you feel that way, that you weren't good enough for him because you were if any of his children were a carbon copy of him, it was you. Once your breathing was back to normal he decided to speak.

"You are good enough for me more than...I never meant to make you feel like you weren't and I'm sorry that I did...when I have to stay back here with your sister and the others it's not because I don't believe in your abilities as a warrior, trust me I do...it's because I know that if something was to happen, they would have you to protect and defend them...I'm sorry I made you think I was doubting you or didn't believe in you because I do so much. I didn't realize that I had gotten so wrapped in the war party stuff and your brothers that I ignored you, it was never my intention. I hope you can forgive me, baby girl." He said.

"As long as you can forgive me for the way I've been acting." You said looking at him.

"Of course, what do you say tomorrow we spend the day together like we used to do?" He offered you.

"I would love that. I love you, dad." You said to him.

"I love you too baby girl." He said pressing a kiss to your forehead.

#jake sully x daughter!reader #avatar fic #avatar way of water x reader #sully reader #avatar way of water

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mintmatcha · 8 months

Text

cw: a weird vent piece lol, suicide mention, no quirks au, mentally ill reader

You always fuck with your shirt on. You'd wear more, if you could, but you haven't figured out how to do it with your pants on yet.

You pull the sheets over your sweat chilled legs and hope he didn't notice the spots you missed shaving. If he did, Natsuo doesn't seem to mind. His arm is tucked under your head, muscle fibers occasionally twitching underneath you and turning the soft mass dense.

Sometimes, Natsuo keeps his shirt on too. Neither of you have ever asked the other about it; there's a mutual understanding when a hand is stopped.

"Do you work tonight?" he asks.

You shake your head as his body relaxes deeper into the mattress.

"I'm gonna do laundry if you want to throw your stuff in," he mumbles, "I'll get you junk to sleep in."

The medical textbooks he was studying are still on the floor, flipped to random pages of different cycles and tissues, abandoned in exchange for you. If Natsuo fails his midterms, it'll be your fault. If he passes, he'll be leaving the city next semester for his hospital rotations.

Part of you wants him to fail. It's that dirty, evil part that no one else seems to have, the part you try to starve, but it keeps growing anyway. It nips at you whenever the room gets too quiet.

It's teeth are extra sharp today.

"You're so sweet." You speak into his skin, "I don't know how you're still single."

A sharp inhale is sucked through his teeth, cutting through his smile. Natsuo takes in all of your features and you know he's wondering why you're saying these things-- why you're purposefully bringing this up.

"Well, sweetie-" His tone is light, like he's avoiding stepping on glass, stepping on glass. With every word, he walks his fingers on your arm, spanning from elbow to shoulder, "I'm only single because you keep turning me down."

The overhead fan whizzes. The part you try to starve sinks its teeth into your chest.

"Natsuo, we've talked about this," you say, "I don't date."

You sit up and swing a leg over him, straddling his hips. A trail of white hair runs down his stomach and down under the sheets, disappearing where the two of you meet. He holds you by the hem of your tee, just tight enough to hold you in place.

"Would it be so bad?" he whispers.

"Here's what would happen, alright?" You brush your fingers through his sweat touched hair and it bounces right back into place the second you pull away. It makes you giggle a bit and he mirrors you, an unsure, foolish optimism in his eyes, "Let's just say I met this wonderful, beautiful boy and tricked-"

"Tricked?" he scoffs.

"Tricked him into loving me." You want to kiss him, but it feels cruel for both of you. Instead, you just cup his jaw in your hands and cradle him, letting the weight of him slump into your palms, "He'd treat me right and bring me home to meet his parents, 'cause he was raised right and, even though he's really smart, he'd think he's in love."

Fingers squeeze at your hips.

"But the second I left, his parents would tell him that he deserves someone prettier and smarter and, and, and better," you say, "And they'd be right."

“My mom’s nice," He drops your pretense with a whisper, ruining your not so careful charade. “She wouldn’t say that.”

He doesn’t mention his dad. There’s a silent sentence there. One that says, “But he might.” It’s hard to keep your brain from sticking to that point, from sticking your thumb into this metaphorical soft spot.

“I mean, she wouldn’t say it out loud, but she’d think it," you say, “She’d sit there and think ‘that girl's not good enough for my son' and she'd be right."

He scoff he lets out is uneasy, almost a songed laugh, more pained than annoyed. "My mom is nice."

This conversation is hurting him, but you can't stop yourself.

"And they'd tell you to break up with me, but you wouldn't listen to them, 'cause you're head strong like that. You'd probably date me in spite of them for while," you ramble, "But then you'd go away and you'd meet some pretty, normal girl and you'd realize they were right. They were always right. I was right."

The overhead fan whizzes.

"So, it's better if I just don't date at all,"

Natsuo's grip dissolves and you think you see it then - the moment whatever is between you dies. A hollowness passes over his features, empty eyes and sucked cheeks, as he ducks his head down to rest his face against your chest. Chin against the soft of your tits, he seems farther away than ever.

You could gloat. You could cry. You're a self-fulfilling prophecy once again.

Natsuo sighs and his words slip so easily from him that you almost don't process what he's saying. "You're so sad. I wish you'd get help."

That catches you off guard. The control over this conversation is ripped away, your curtain drops, and you suddenly feel very, horribly seen.

"What?" You try to laugh it off, leaning back to escape the way he watches you.

"Sometimes I wake up and you're not here," he says, "And I worry that's the last time I'll ever see you."

You understand the implication.

"I'm not gonna kill myself." It might be the truth, you think.

"Yeah," His arms wrap around your waist again, snaking the air from your lungs, "Touya promised me that too."

Touya is only ever mentioned over too many beers and tears you're not allowed to remember the next morning. He was only 16, only a couple years older than Natsuo, but the ghosts still linger to this day, always tucked into the back of the room, stalking, haunting.

Natsuo comes from money and fame. His apartment is paid for by his father. He's never had to work to afford food. At first, you resented him for that; you wanted that ease and safety his family afforded him.

But everything comes at a cost. Every unhappy family is unhappy in there own ways.

"I'm sorry that you keep loving things that break." That is the truth. You're just the end of a line of his mistakes, starting all the way at mom and dad and trailing through every girlfriend ever since.

"I do love you. And it's not despite the fact you're 'broken'," Natsuo takes your hand with a resounding firmness. It reminds you of that thing they say about golden retrievers; the smart ones can hold an egg in their jaws without shattering the shell. Natsuo holds you like he understands you in some deep, intrinsic way, "Or because of it or whatever."

He doesn't look away, those bright, wide eyes bluer than ever.

"I just like all your little pieces." He kisses your knuckles one by one, trailing from thumb to pinkie to thumb again.

The room is silent. The bad part of you is no longer begging to eat. Maybe it's full for now, but you know it's just out of focus, stalking in the dark, biding its time.

"You should study." You slip from him and reclaim your own space in the bed. After a long, simple pause, Natsuo gets up himself, collecting his boxers from the floor.

"Yeah," he says, "You're right."

The hurt you've caused is no longer comfortable to live in. Your mouth is dry, thirsty for a change you're not sure how to make. Recovery feels like a big leap-- loving and being loved feels every farther away.

All you can do is shuffle your feet against the sheets and take the tiniest step towards normalcy.

"Do you want to get brunch tomorrow before your classes?" you offer your olive branch, your silent promise, "I'll pay."

He weighs this, measuring it for sincerity, then smiles just wide enough your get a glimpse of teeth.

"Let me get you something to sleep in."

For now, it's enough.

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dreamskug · 1 month

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[ SUBJECT INTERVIEW: ÍVARR ]

NICKNAME:

NOT "Gramps". Not for you, anyway. Just my name.

GENDER:

Male.

STAR SIGN:

Why, checking if we’d match? Hah. Was told I’m a Scorpio. 'That check out?

HEIGHT:

With platforms or without?

ORIENTATION:

If we vibe, nothing else matters. An incubus with neat taste in personalities, I guess.

NATIONALITY / ETHNICITY:

So, some Scandinavian blood in me - half, actually. Can speak the language, too - 'least something neat daddy gave me, not that the fucker's outdone himself in parenting. Mom’s an American, born in Badlands. Ever heard of her clan? Messed with witchcraft a lot, and summoning even more. Know what I’m getting at? A perfect fuckin' match, weren't they?

FAVE FRUIT:

- Yeah no. Don't even start with anything citrus. Especially don't peel this shit in front of me, alright? Nasty shit. [Interviewer]: - Just wondering, how do you feel about cardboard boxes? [Ívarr] : - Ain't purring for you, man. But nice one.

FAVE SEASON:

Fuck summer. You ever felt what's that like - the real winter nights? Pitch fuckin' dark - quiet so thick you hear the snow falling. First time I saw those snowflakes as a kid - can swear I thought they were bees.

FAVE FLOWER:

Cherry blossoms? The fuck I know, man. Ask my mainline, I grab whatever he likes.

FAVE SCENT:

Expecting me to be like - "Muahaha, the smell of fear"? Seriously, it's apparently a pheromone released in your sweat or some shit. C'mon I'm joking, it isn't my fav - keeps stinking up this damn city. Alright, a freshly baked cake is something I'd kill for.

COFFEE, TEA, HOT CHOCOLATE:

Yeah coffee I guess? Rich, strong, black, with a splash of something fun, make it whiskey.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP:

Woke up just yesterday 'cause my mainline was pulling back my eyelid, imagine? Scared the fuck out of him, no seriously, can sleep through a fuckin' bomb and I'm not joking. Average hours - a shitton honestly? That's how I got my very first cat - Dad got enough of me breaking down every single morning, cause fuck mornings. And he'd be like - this is Snowy, she's gonna live with us and she already had her breakfast, so get the fuck up. How'd I argue with Snowy? You don't mess with Snowy.

DOG OR CAT PERSON:

See? Check it out - cat fur. Here too. I'm claimed, man - gave up cleaning it up a long time ago. Not to be dramatic, but if there's anything human in me left - it's for them. Fur kids, all mine, what can I say. Two of them adopted - and you bet each of them has a bigger personality than an average gonk.

DREAM TRIP:

Dream trip, jeez... Somewhere not fucking hot?

FAVE FICTIONAL CHARACTER:

Balrog has style, y'know? Gotta be honest, I feel for the dude. Imagine yourself sleeping deep within the mountains for thousands of years to get awoken by a bunch of motherfuckers? I'd go nuclear too. And this one too, ehh you know GoT? The Targaryen, her, yeah. Burn them all, girl. Boss move.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH:

Man, your questions. I dunno, a half? With my ass covered, or not at all. Bed king sized, lights out, make it pitch black with the window open and you got me passed out.

RANDOM FACT:

One doesn't have to actually summon a demon to get them to come play, d'you know? There's one watching you through my eyes right fuckin' now. Should I introduce him?

Late to the party, but I remember many of y'all have more than one OC or just created new pixel babies that haven't participated yet, so I'm tagging (with no pressure):

@therealnightcity @wraithsoutlaws @sammysilverdyne @theviridianbunny @th3irin

@a-pirate @chessalein @halkuonn @luvwich @shimmer-like-agirl

@kdval @cybersteal @cyberholic77 @chevvy-yates @morganlefaye79

@anxious--ace @mhbcaps @wormskul @silver-samurai @androgymess

@winkyblinkyandstew @astarionhistears @valsilverhand @drunkchasind @themermaidriot

@pinkyjulien @skelior @medtech-mara @lokiina @timaeusterrored

@tokyofuturnoir @aggravateddurian @sifofasgard @elfjpeg @aurorartz

@lucky38-2077 @dustymagpie @gloryride @stannussy and anyone else who wants to! Also pls DM me if you don't wanna get tagged🖤

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sehodreams · 14 days

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fucking Anton with a breeding kink is so hot like when he has hot passionate romantic sex it definitely feels like baby making

Sorry, I don't think this is what you wanted to read but it's what came to my mind. It's been in my draft for so long, I tried to think of a different idea but it stayed like this 😭

TW and tags: p in v, no condom, literally babymaking.

He's especially needy on these occasions. You don't really understand what goes through his mind when he's pushing you to the bed all serious, or when he's brushing his fingers on your waist while you're getting ready for bed, but there's simply an alarm that starts sounding inside you, a "shit" repeating in your head because you know what's about to come.

He's not harder, or rougher. He's really slow since he wants to feel you more, caressing corners of your skin not even you pay attention, like that little emptiness in your collarbone, or the inside of your arm when he pushes your hands up to take control of your moves.

Still, finally, this day, he's brave enough to tell you those thoughts that fill his head and you always wondered about. Spitting things you know cross him in the middle of the night, you gasp for air when you hear his voice. "You'd look so pretty pregnant,'' he whispers. ''I can't stop thinking about us living in a bigger house, big enough for you to have anything you could ever want... don't you want to come and search for one with me?"

"What are you saying?" You answer. You want to think that maybe he's joking, but it's all so intense, his finger flicking your clit and his eyes on yours at every second, gleaming even in the dark.

"We could be a family, maybe a little girl to keep company to my favourite girl in the whole world?" He's going too far now, and you're trying to resist it. It's too drawing, the tone of his voice, the aroma of his bed that is almost yours now after all those nights sleeping together, and the image he's planting on your head. You're so comfy in that picture, being kissed by him while he rests his hand on your stomach, and everything is dizzy when he's sliding into you.

"You-you really want that?" You ask unsure, feeling too good and in a haze of pleasure. More than just loved, you feel almost adored.

"It's everything I can think about,'' he groans. ''I want to make my girl a mom, the most beautiful one."

Fuck, not again you say inside your head. He knows he shouldn't ask you for things while fucking. You're too weak to resist him when it's all so good, he pressing you to the mattress and his hips slowly finding that spot that doesn't let you think things twice when he bottoms out and steals every air you could have with his weight over you.

He's not saying anything else about it. He's just pounding and holding your hands over your head while the other in your waist keeps you in place to receive him. He couldn't let you move apart when your pussy is squelching, begging for him to spill everything inside.

You don't talk, but you want him to cum inside, you're too deep into the fantasy to say no to him, and soon you're clenching, not wanting to let him pull away from you and your new dream.

Fuck, you curse again. You're not even sure you want to be a mom. Obviously, you haven't thought about it as much as him.

Yet, you can see everything so clearly now. A house with a pretty garden, white ceilings and breakfast out in the fresh air on Sunday mornings.

You can't push him away when you know he's about to cum. His breath is getting harder with every thrust and the sweat is accumulating in his forehead. Usually, you'd have cleaned it with your hand, but he doesn't let you move, both wrists pinned in your pillow.

''I'm not wearing a condom,'' he warns you.

You don't know why he's telling you that by that point. You physically can't push him away, and you both know you can't say no to him, not while fucking, not at any moment, and this one is not the exception.

#riize smut #anton smut

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amomentsescape · 3 months

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Hey can I request jason voorhees x pregnant reader, they again already have a kid. It's late and jason is exhausted doing dishes or helping his wife get comfortable and hears a crash in the kids room and rushes over in full protective mode ready to attack, only to see a misty spirit if his mom glowing in the moon light, kissing the sleeping kid goodnight on their forehead and tucking em in and humming a lullaby saying "my beautiful grandbaby". Jason upon seeing this gets teary from joy and so does his mom and she tells jason that he's doing a great job as father and husband and she's proud but then fades away in the moon light and jason goes back to bed with his wife who wonders why he's extra extra affectionate and loving, and teary?

A Mother Knows Best

Jason Voorhees x Pregnant! Reader

Summary: In the middle of the night, Jason finally gets the sign that he's been looking for.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 787

A/N: I'm a bit sick currently and am definitely in a bit of a brain fog, so I hope this still came out to your liking!

After all this time living in the woods, there has never been a moment where Jason became fearful.

He could clearly protect himself, but even then, he knew no one would dare step into this area knowing that he was around.

It's exactly why he wanted to raise up his family here. He never wanted to worry about your safety, and he knew that growing up around nature would give his children the freedom to explore and be whoever they wanted without judgment.

It was another night like the rest. Jason was still rubbing your back long after you had already fallen asleep.

You were still in your first trimester, and the nausea mixed with the fatigue was kicking your ass.

Jason was doing whatever he could to help you get some rest, but unfortunately, there was only so much that could be done to alleviate that discomfort for you.

He continued to rub his rough hand along your soft skin, worrying that if he stopped, you would immediately wake up again.

It had taken a couple hours just to get the baby to bed earlier. And he couldn't help but feel guilty that he wasn't able to help more with the situation.

But like always, you just gave him a gentle smile and reassured him that everything was alright.

A sudden thud from the nearby room caused Jason to shoot up in bed, instantly being shaken from his thoughts.

Thankfully, you were still resting somehow, not having heard the same crashing sound Jason had.

This was the first time in forever that Jason actually felt fearful about something. But of course, he wasn't scared for himself, he was scared for his child.

He rushed to their room quickly, slightly curious as to why he hadn't heard his baby crying yet.

But when he finally reached the room, these worries and thoughts immediately left his brain.

A ghostly apparition stood over his child's crib. And although Jason wasn't too sure of what he was seeing at first, the gentle hum of her voice and the tilt of her head immediately struck him with realization.

"My sweet grand-baby," she cooed, touching her hand on their cheek.

It was only then that she turned to look at Jason.

An even wider smile stretched across her face, and her eyes were already teary. Jason could feel himself choking up at just the sight of her.

It had been years since he last heard her voice, and he never thought he'd be in a position to talk to her again.

Before he could even take a step into the room, his mother let out a sigh.

"I'm so proud of who you've become," she spoke softly, not wanting to wake her grandchild. "My beautiful boy. You've fought so hard for this life, and I couldn't be more happy to see how far you've come."

Jason was holding back sobs at this point, not knowing what else to do but take in her words and truly convince himself that this wasn't some kind of dream.

"I love you," she whispered.

The moonlight from the window seemed to shine even brighter as her ghost became more and more translucent. She reached her hand out towards him as she faded away, and Jason about sprinted into the room in hopes of catching her before she left.

But she was gone in an instant, and he was suddenly left there with a fast beating heart and tear-stained cheeks.

To know that his mother had never really left him and was happy of what's he's done seemed to lift a weight from his shoulders.

There was no more doubt in his mind that he was making the right decisions for you and your children. He was truly doing his best.

He quickly made his way back to your shared room, cuddling into the sheets behind you and pulling your body into his so tightly that you were already beginning to open your eyes.

"Jason?" you asked hoarsely, still a bit sleep drunk. "Everything okay?"

You could feel him nod into the crook of your neck, nuzzling in even further.

In your haze, you rolled back over and shut your eyes again, already drifting back into a deep sleep.

He was thankful for this. There was no way he'd be able to explain what just happened without breaking down right now. So instead, he looked over your sleeping form and placed his hand softly on your belly.

He smiled instantly, knowing his mother would continue to look out for him and his family. In fact, he swore he could hear a faint hum in his ear as he too began to doze off into a peaceful sleep.

#slashers x reader #slashers #slashers preference #slasher preference #slashers headcanon #slasher fandom #slasher imagines #jason voorhes x reader #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees #friday the 13th

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astrophileous · 8 months

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I feel like Derek would be SO aware of Bug when she gets further along in the pregnancy. Anytime she winces due to a harsh kick or Braxton hick, he’s right there beside her. He makes a huge deal of it too, especially if he can’t be by her side immediately 😭 even asks Penelope to send him updates when he’s away

This takes place during the first pregnancy, when Bug is pregnant with Little Bug 🥰 I kinda took inspiration from that scene when JJ went into labor the first time around, I hope you like it <3

Side note, I literally interrogated my mom abt her pregnancy/labor experience for this one cause I don't have any 😭 but then she proceeded to ask if I HAD SOMETHING I WANTED TO TELL HER AKJSJSJDJ LIKE MOM NO I'M NOT PREGNANT I'm just writing a story plsss

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

With your due date just around the corner, it felt like Derek was also constantly in your corner.

The week marked your first one on maternity leave. You had many objections over having to take a longer leave--how were you ever going to survive four long weeks at home doing nothing?--but after constant pestering from both your doctor and Derek, you relented.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Derek was next to you in a flash, as per usual, after he had heard your wince. You were sure that the man was just in another room mere moments prior, yet the second he caught the tiniest sign of distress coming from you, he proceeded to transport himself towards your side.

"Nothing." You chuckled, trying to ease his mind. "Your son is just eager to practice his kicking skills today."

The frown on his forehead deepened. "Does it hurt?"

"It's not that bad."

"Are you sure?" Derek's hand sneaked on top of your belly, as if trying to tell your son to calm down before he could send another painful kick against your abdomen. "Are you sure it's even a kick? Maybe we should go to the--"

"Derek, I'm fine. Promise." You patted his hand that was still on top of yours, entangling them together. "Have you heard from Hotch about where you guys are going tomorrow?"

"Louisville, Kentucky." Derek seemed to ponder something in silence before he continued, "Should I ask Hotch to sit this one out?"

"What? Why would you do that?"

"I don't like being so far away from you." His hand squeezed around yours as he said it, as if trying to emphasize his point. "What if something happens?"

"Nothing is gonna happen, honey. I'm probably just gonna be sleeping half the time you're gone. You'll be bored as hell and wish that you were in Kentucky instead."

"I don't know. I kinda like watching you sleep."

"Good one, Mister. But still no," you said. "Everything's gonna be just fine. Trust me."

Derek wasn't entirely happy about it, but you managed to push him out of the door bright and early the next morning. In his absence, you had the whole house to yourself, and you used that opportunity to do anything to keep yourself out of boredom. Nothing too strenuous, just as your doctor instructed. Not that you could do anything extreme with the weight of your 36-week bump.

You were in the middle of preparing dinner when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Confused, you turned off the stove before heading towards the front door, wondering all the way who could be visiting you on a random Tuesday night.

Your curiosity was answered the moment you opened the door, only to be met with a familiar pair of eyes behind red rimmed glasses and a head of blonde hair in perfect ringlets.

"Pen? What are you doing here?" Your eyes flitted down, noticing the polka dot duffle bag on the ground. "Why do you have a bag?"

"Surprise, Beets! We're having a sleepover!"

You were still in shock when Penelope rushed past you and entered the house. "What do you mean, sleepover?"

"Have you never had a sleepover before, Beets? It means I'm gonna stay here, of course!"

"What? I don't--" realization dawned upon you then, "--did Derek put you up to this?"

"No."

"Pen."

"Okay, fine! Maybe he did. But--" Penelope raised her finger when she saw you about to cut her off, "--I was more than happy and willing to do it anyway. I also don't like the thought of you being alone in this house all by yourself."

"Pen, I appreciate the gesture, really, I do. But just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm not the same person I was before. I can still deliver a mean punch if I have to," you reminded her. "You don't have to do this."

"Beets," Penelope gripped your shoulders, "I know I don't have to, but I want to, okay? Unless you're not looking forward to a marathon of the greatest 90s romcoms every single night. Shall I make myself scarce?"

You mulled over Penelope's offer for a minute. A marathon of the greatest 90s romcoms every single night did sound tempting.

"Fine." When Penelope began to squeal, you quickly added, "But no smothering!"

Penelope ended up staying for nearly the entire week, during which time Derek was constantly terrorizing her with text and voice messages; either demanding an update on you and the baby or asking Penelope to monitor your condition throughout the day.

"He's being ridiculous," you had commented one night when another one of his text messages came in the middle of My Best Friend's Wedding.

"He's worried about you."

"He's too worried." You grabbed another handful of popcorns. "You have my permission to block him anytime you feel like he's being too much."

"Won't that just give him a reason to hop on a plane and go home early?"

Your munching stopped. "Damn, you're right. Fine, just... tell him off anytime he starts being too crazy."

On Saturday, you finally received word that the team was flying back home to Virginia.

"They'll arrive in a couple of hours," Penelope called out from her position in the kitchen. "I've packed my bag and will get out of your hair as soon as Derek gets here. You guys can--what are you doing?"

Penelope knitted her eyebrows together once she walked back into the living area, seeing you somewhat writhing on the couch.

"I don't know. I just can't seem to get comfortable," you said. "And there's this... squeezing pain, I think? I don't know. I think he's pressing on my bladder or kidney or something."

"Beets." Penelope's face had gone a little paler, but there was the ghost of a smile adorning her fuchsia-painted lips. "I think you just described a contraction."

Your heart stuttered. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Beets." Penelope was beside you in a second, just in time for another contraction to hit. "You're going into labor."

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff #dad derek morgan #shemar moore #love bugs

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allysunny · 10 months

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Shadows to Stars | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Synopsys: One night, your seemingly perfect life with your boyfriend Miguel crumbles before your very eyes. It is then you must make a decision that will change the course of your life forever - as well as the course of the life growing inside of you.

Words: 12k

Warnings: Angst, violence, mentions of death and abortion, pregnancy, Miguel is scary and a bitch. Spanish translations will be at the end. Do tell if I forgot something!

A/N: Hey everyone! Here's the super long oneshot I promised you all I would deliver! Since in both polls I made, the majority of y'all voted for one post, I'm posting this as one big drabble. Honestly, it kind of transformed as I was writing it, and I got carried away. Beware, Miguel is a monster in here, he is NOT a good person and I do not condone his actions in this work.

Also, quick aside, I'm using my own experience with toddlers and kids (namely my little sister) to shape some of the dialogue. Kids are very smart, and oftentimes we don't give them enough credit. I tried to keep this realistic!

The song mentioned is Querida by Juan Gabriel - I suggest listening to it!

Enjoy! :)

“This is such bullshit.” Was the first thought that crossed your mind. That’s not how gravity worked. The impossible stunt performed by the actor in the TV left you unimpressed, and you scolded yourself mentally for it. You sound exactly like him. Just enjoy the movie, will you?

You shake your head with a sigh, focusing on the screen in front of you. You’d been meaning to watch this one for a while, all your friends said it was simply the best of the saga just yet. “I can’t believe they’re making another one, just let the saga die!” You replied, but your best friend Miranda was quick to disagree. “How could they, after ending the last one in such a cliffhanger?” She was defending the movie as if her life depended on it. “Besides, Com Truise looks really hot in this one, he’s aging like fine wine”.

So here you were, trying to figure out how the hell Wethan Runt was gonna get himself out of this situation. This was the… Sixth? Seventh? Seventh Improbable Endeavor movie so far, and you wondered why they couldn’t just let the series die. It was simply too much at this point, a way to milk a famous franchise in order to earn money.

“Mommy?” A small, tremulous voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked at where it came from.

A small child looked at you from behind the living room door, his hand tightly clutching a teddy bear. Your son had just turned 4 and was the most precious thing the world had ever blessed you with. With soft brown curls and [e/c] eyes, he looked like a little cherubin, all chubby cheeks and dimpled smiles. You adored him.

“Yes, baby? What’s wrong?” You asked, furrowing a brow. However, there was no need for a reply. You knew what the answer was already. “Another one?”

Gabriel nodded softly, tears forming in his eyes, and fear turning in his tummy.

“The same?”

He nodded again, the tears now rolling down his round cheeks. The sight of your pouting son broke your heart. For a few months now he had been plagued with the same nightmare repeatedly: A brightly coloured spider sinking its teeth onto him, proceeding to devour him whole right after. It wasn’t a pleasant dream, and unfortunately, it felt too familiar. Not to you, but perhaps to someone who once used to be close.

“Oh honey…” Your voice was soft, as it usually was with Gabriel. You knew nothing else when you were with him. “I’m so sorry… C’mere baby, do you want to sleep near mommy tonight?”

Gabriel shook his head “yes” softly, a small breath leaving his mouth. He was glad you’d asked him that. He didn’t want to look like a baby, not in front of his mom. Not when she told him he was her brave boy all the time. He had to be a brave boy for his mama.

“Mama…” He breathed out, tears pooling at his feet. “Mama I’m sorry…”

“Honey?” Now you were worried. He looked so scared; your precious baby looked so scared. “Honey, c’mere…”

“I can’t…” He whispered, shaking his little head. “Mama I had an accident… I’m sorry… I made the bed wet…”

Your heart officially broke.

Motherly instinct was stronger than you, and within a few seconds, you had picked Gabriel up, shushing him and running your fingers through his brown locks.

“It’s okay honey, it’s okay…” You cooed as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, hiding away from all the troubles, from all the monsters and creepy spiders that threatened to hurt him. His mama always made the monsters go away. You were his hero. “You’re such a brave boy, it’s okay… I’m not mad at you, alright? You’re so brave for me…”

Your hushed words were quick to soothe him. He stopped crying, occasionally sniffling and rubbing his eyes from the sleep.

You took him to the bathroom, quickly washed him and gave him a new pair of underwear. Gabriel knew how to use the toilet – potty training was never a problem because to him, the toilet meant he was a “grown up”. He was quick to tell you when he needed to use the bathroom, causing you to leave the diapers behind. Unfortunately, nightmares didn’t care about that.

He looked at you while you got rid of his wet sheets, throwing them in the washing machine, and his eyes were full of adoration while you prepared him his favourite chocolate milk.

Once he had finished it, you turned off the TV – Com Truise would have to wait – and took Gabriel to your room in your arms.

He made himself comfortable on your bed, teddy carefully placed by his side, and you followed suit after quickly brushing your teeth.

“I’m sorry mama…” He mumbled once again. “Maybe I’m not brave enough…”

“Nothing to be sorry about, honey. It’s okay. You’re still my brave little boy. You’ll always be.” Bending over, you placed a soft kiss on his forehead, and he smiled, which made your heart melt. For all the sadness and hurt you’d gone through and suffered, Gabriel was the best thing that had happened to you. He was an amazing kid: curious, kind to a fault, and oh so cute. Of course, it didn’t help that he was like a mini-version of his father, but you’d learned to live with it.

After all, he wasn’t a little Miguel O’Hara. He was simply Gabriel, your sweet Gabriel who marvelled at thunderstorms and loved broccoli but hated tomatoes. Who liked to play in puddles and splash around at the beach, who giggled uncontrollably when you tickled his little tummy.

“Can you sing the song for me?” He asked, voice laced with sleep. And you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse your son in any way. You nodded and tucked his teddy closer and caressed his cheek.

“Of course, my love.”

You took a short breath and started singing.

“Querido Cada momento de mi vida Yo pienso en ti más cada día Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

Miguel had taught you this song. It was one of his favourites, and you used to sing it to him when he felt stressed or tired. His head on your chest, on your lap, on your neck, your hands running through his hair, his heart on your palm, yours on his. The original song was meant for a girl. Querida was a woman. But you’d adjusted it for him, and never had the courage to change it back.

It was a song of heartbreak, of longing and hurt.

How fitting.

“Querido No me ha sanado bien la herida Te extraño y lloro todavía Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

Glancing at the little one, you chuckled to yourself. Gabriel fell asleep quite quickly, especially when you sang for him. This was his favourite song too, and you’d gotten used to singing it to him nearly every night before he went to sleep.

For a few minutes, you stared at your son. Soon enough, after he’d fallen into a deep slumber, you adjusted his rebellious curls and brought him close to you, his little hand instinctively coming up to wrap itself around your finger.

It’s impossible to describe the love you felt for Gabriel. You’d do anything for him, walk to the ends of the earth if it meant he would smile and look at you with his bright curious eyes. What was there not to love? You couldn’t figure that out. And you couldn’t shake away the memory of when you first asked yourself that question. Not when it used to play in your head every night, no matter how hard you tried to keep it from your thoughts.

The paper read “Test indicates the presence of hCG hormone, confirming pregnancy”.

Oh.

You were pregnant.

If the cheap pharmacy test wasn’t enough proof, now you were absolutely positive you were pregnant.

You. Pregnant.

A mother.

You were going to be a mother.

And Miguel was going to be a father.

Was it possible to die of happiness? You always felt like you were floating with Miguel, but this was different. The thought that you had a little human, a baby, a child, a mini-you growing inside of your uterus? It was too much. To say you were over the moon was an understatement.

That day, you cooked Miguel his favourite.

You got him his favourite wine, mentioning how you were “feeling too light-headed to drink”, but inviting him to do so anyways.

You wore the dress he loved so much, the one that, according to him, made you look like “a princesa”.

Before he arrived, you placed the paper sheet with the results inside an envelope. Taking the lip gloss shade he loved so much, you painted your lips and placed a soft kiss on top of the envelope, the red stain its only decoration.

And just as you hid it within your apron, the doorbell rang.

“Miggy!” You exclaimed, running towards him.

Miguel looked tired – eyebags ever so prominent, face tired and devoid of any emotion. But these features changed once he laid his eyes on you. The exhaustion almost as if evaporated from him, the tired look replaced by a warm smile.

His arms wrapped around you instinctively, head coming to trail his lips over your collarbone, humming ever so slightly – if you didn’t know your boyfriend, you’d think he was silent.

“Amor…” He groaned, hands squeezing your waist, lips caressing your skin.

“Rough day?”

“Would sewing a bunch of kids’ mouths shut make me a bad person? Answer me honestly mi Cielo, I trust your good judgement…” Was his mumbled reply.

You laughed, skimming your hand through his hair, as the other rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“It wouldn’t be the most moral thing to do, no.”

“Mierda.”

Your laughter filled the room and it was healing. It lifted all his worried, carrying them to a place far, far from your soft touches and kind words. You were his safe space, his little secret. For all the technological advances he had access too, Miguel found the best remedy to be purely and simply you. And didn’t you look extra pretty today?

You were always breathtaking, but that dress… Surely you knew what his thoughts on that dress were. You had to be doing it on purpose.

So, he let you lead him to the shower, covering his body with sweet kisses and kneading the tense and sore muscles of his back and shoulders. He let you wash his hair, giggling as you played with it, turning his soapy curls into a mohawk. He let you cover his body with body milk, rambling on about “it makes his skin so soft and healthy”.

He loved you. How could he not? What was there not to love?

And you loved him back just as much.

The way Miguel smiled as he took bite after bite of your food. He refused to talk about his day, claiming it’d only make him angrier. He’d much rather hear about yours.

So, you did just that, telling him about the things you did, the places you went. The new supermarket that opened just down the street with fresh fruit, the old market where you got the meat he’s eating right now, etc.

You were always out and about, keeping yourself busy while he saved Nueva York, volunteering, working with children, helping elderly people, or perhaps, if you were feeling lazy and tired, maybe just lounging around with a book in your hand.

It was when Miguel offered to do the dishes that you realised it was now or never. Time to shoot your shot.

You waited patiently for him, leading them to the couch once the kitchen was sparkling once again, and sat him next to you on the couch.

“Miguel, there’s something I wanna show you…” Was how you started. Goodness, had you always been this nervous? Were your hands this clammy? Why weren’t any words coming out of your mouth? Your breath was quickening, and a million questions were running freely through your head.

You didn’t think this through, did you? What if he’s not happy? But that is impossible, right? You two spoke about this. Miguel wanted a baby. So did you. You knew of his past, knew of Gabriella. But you also knew he was healing. You saw it happen before your very eyes. First there were the small glances, the small comments about baby clothing, and then there were conversations of children, of family. And of course, there was the trying. In fact, Miguel was more than invested in trying for a baby. “Just give me one more,” He’d whisper in the intimacy of your bedroom, “Wanna make sure it takes.” And you were soft and giddy and in love and oh so pliant for him.

And yet, it could go wrong. So many things could go wrong.

“Mi vida, what’s wrong? You look worried…” Miguel furrowed his brow, hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the way he did when he wanted to see your face more clearly. His face had “worry” written all over it, and it’d be funny, if you yourself weren’t shaking with anxiety.

“Yes, I… I’m fine, just… Give me some time.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

Nothing would go wrong. Miguel loves you. Endlessly, and he’ll love your child just the same. You’re sure of it.

“I need to show you something.” You said more clearly, looking him in the eye. “I… I love you, Miguel. So, so much. Unimaginably so. I love you. I love everything about you.”

He smiled. A genuine smile, one saved for you and only you.

“I love you too, mi vida. Te amo con todo mi ser. Eres la luz de mi vida.”

Shit, it did things to you. Him speaking Spanish, that was. You’d been learning, just for him, and while you weren’t yet a professional, you’d picked on his endearing phrases quite early. In fact, those were the first you learned – you wanted to be able to understand the sweet nothings he whispered to you in the comfort of your home.

“I… I’m scared you won’t… At least not anymore, when I show you this…” You confessed with bated breath, shrugging your shoulders ever so slightly. Communicating your worries and fears with Miguel had never been an issue. He was very open, telling you whatever was on his mind with no hesitation. It had taken a while, but now he trusted you fully, and your relationship was based on trust and understanding.

“Mi vida…” He murmured, fingers slowly cupping your jaw. “Unless you ate the last empanada in the cafeteria, there’s nothing you could do that would make me love you less…” It got a chuckle out of you, and a smile out of him. Good. It was all he ever wanted to see; you with a smile on your face.

“Well then…” The words were muffled by the ruffling of your apron.

You took out the envelope and sighed.

This was it.

It was now or never.

Fuck, you were going to puke. This was simply too much. You were so worried, so scared.

But before you could do anything, he had carefully taken the envelope in his hands and opened it, smiling at the lipstick stain.

Oh god. This was it.

He unfolded the paper.

There was no turning back now.

He read the words attentively, curious about what had gotten you so worked up. You observed his face, his calm demeanour, his brow furrowing, his lips parting, his eyes widening-

“What?”

It was nearly imperceptible, but it was there, and you heard it.

His eyes scanned over the words again.

And then again.

And then again and again and again and again, until his fists clenched the paper, and he was turning away from you.

“Estás… Estás embarazada…?”

“Miggy…?” You tried getting a glimpse of his expression, but he refused to look at you again.

“Is this true…? You’re pregnant?” There was something in his voice, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Grief, perhaps? Anger? Surprise?

His knuckles turned white, and the paper sheet was quickly torn in two.

“M-Miguel?” Your eyes went to his knuckles and the paper. Oh no. This couldn’t be good. There’s no way this is good.

“You’re PREGNANT?” He turned to face you, his eyes a dark shade of red. His voice boomed and you flinched. It was an instinct, truly. The paper was left forgotten on the floor as he balled his fists in his lap, as if he was restricting himself.

“Aren’t you happy?” The words left your mouth as a mere whisper, all of the confidence and bravado from earlier completely gone. What the hell was going on with Miguel? He looked angry, feral, like… No, you did not want to think about it. Surely, he was just a bit surprised, right? That must be all. “Miggy? Aren’t you ha- “

“How did this happen?!” He growled, and you could do all but scoff. Was he actually serious? Did he not know how pregnancies happened? Did he not know how babies were made? Wasn’t he there when you two were actively trying to get you pregnant?

“Gee, Miguel, I don’t know, maybe it happened one of the times you pushed me up against the kitchen sink or the couch as soon as you got home, claiming you ‘needed me so badly’. Maybe it happened because we’ve been trying for a baby, because you said you were ready to start a family with me.” Was he being serious right now? It’s not like birth control was 100% effective – you had always warned him of that – and it’s not like he always used protection – something you both discussed as well. So how come he was asking ‘how it had happened?’. “We don’t always use protection, you know, these things happen- “

“How could you let this happen?!” Miguel stood up, his frame towering over you. And for once in your life, you felt something you’d never even imagined you’d fear when with Miguel – let alone because of him: fear.

“What? Me?” Your eyes widened, refusing to believe the words that he’d just uttered. “How is this my fault? Last time I checked, it took two people to make a baby, Miguel. And you wanted one. Holy – Miguel, what is wrong with you? We’ve been wanting a child for so long!” It wasn’t until the tears hit your palms that you realised you were crying. It hit you shortly after, Miguel made you cry. “Honey, please, just… Aren’t you happy?” You forced a smile through the tears, hoping to get him as excited as you were.

“Happy?!”

“Yeah!” Tear after tear escaped from your eyes, tracing paths down your face. You’d been so excited to find out you were going to be a mother. Fantasizing about holding your child, caressing their chubby cheeks, watching as you and Miguel doted over the tiny human that was both a mixture of him and you. And now those fantasies were shattered as Miguel paced back and forth in your living room, giving you a look that could kill you by itself. “I thought… I thought you wanted a family with me…! You said so Miggy, you told me you wanted to start a family…”

He all but scowled and threw a punch at a wall, cracking the surface around his fist. You flinched once again, shaking your head repeatedly. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t your Miggy, no. This wasn’t the man that whispered the sweetest words in your ear, who woke you up with gentle kisses, who placed gentle hands on your stomach and wondered about the family you would once start.

“Clearly, I changed my mind.” Your boyfriend – no, because there was no way this man was your boyfriend – rumbled, removing his hand from the wall, and inspecting it. “I… We… [Y/N], we can’t. Perdóname. I’m sorry. I know what I said, but… No. This is out of the question.”

“I don’t get it,” You shook your head. This whole thing seemed so farfetched – Miguel wanted a child. He had told you as much. Hell, you two had been trying for a baby. On purpose. How could he just tell you “No”? “Miguel, we wanted this. I’m pregnant because we wanted to start a family, because you told me you were ready and wouldn’t love anything more other than me holding your child, Miguel, I’m pregnant because we wanted this! And you need to take responsibility for your actions, you can’t just blame me for this when we were bo-“

“I don’t have to do anything. This is completely out of the question. I thought I wanted a child, well, turns out I don’t.” He was spitting the words so viciously, you could’ve easily mistaken them for poison. “Having a child now would complicate things too much.”

“Complicate?”

“Yes, complicate. Our lives shouldn’t be changing too drastically because of a baby. I’m sorry, [Y/N], but we can’t. We just… No. “ He didn’t even have the decency of facing you. He was looking at the hole he’d punched into the wall, frowning.

“But Miguel…” You pleaded. You truly couldn’t understand what was happening. You could not understand why he wasn’t thrilled, excited, over the moon, spinning you around as he kissed your face and pledged his undying love to you. Undeterred, you take your hand in his and place it on your stomach, on the place your child would live for a few months before you had the joy of holding him (or her) in your arms. A smile, albeit a small one, graced your features once again. “We’ve been… We’ve been wishing for this…”

Miguel took a good look at you. He glanced up and down, taking your figure in. Your red eyes, your runny nose, your puffy lips. The tears, the hurt in your gaze. All because of him. He was hurting you. You truly wanted this, didn’t you? And didn’t he want the same? Hadn’t he told you time and time again how much he wanted to start a family with you? Weren’t you trying? Wasn’t he finally healing?

So why was it that the only thing he felt for the growing foetus inside of you was disdain?

He removed his hand from yours and shook his head.

“Get rid of it.”

Your jaw dropped.

What?

“Miguel? Honey, I…”

“Get. Rid of it.” He spat, eyes glowing bright red. “Or I will.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly parted, heart turning and churning and burning and hurting oh so much. How could he? His child, his own child… How could he say such things? How could he be so merciless? How could he want to… to kill the child you’d loved so unconditionally, even if for the past few hours?

It was horrifying. There was no word for it, it was truly horrifying, the way your Miguel was treating this matter. You’d looked at him with tears in your eyes, hoping that something, anything would leave your lips. But he’d opened a portal and left for HQ, leaving you alone in the middle of your living room.

So, you did the only rational thing.

You ran.

Jessica had helped you, along with Peter B. Parker.

Both were parents, so not only did they understand the way you felt towards your unborn baby, but also encourage you in your decision to leave Miguel. It broke Peter’s heart to find out the man that took care of the Spider Society had threatened to hurt his child and pregnant wife in the way.

But much to his sadness, he would have to act as if everything was fine and dandy, as if this man hadn’t threatened to kill a foetus, as if he wasn’t a monster. Peter would have to keep on interacting with him normally, in order not to raise suspicion. And so would Jess.

So, they did.

All traces of your existence had been removed from your shared apartment. Clothes, shoes, blankets. Anything that he could use to get the faintest trace of where you were was brought along with you, only his things and his things alone left behind.

It broke your heart to do it, but you had no choice. It was him or your unborn child, and although you’d known of your pregnancy for only a few hours, you were willing to do anything to assure its safety already.

You laid low for a while. Found a nice apartment where you could start over and build a life for yourself and your little one. Peter and Jess couldn’t keep you from going outside, so instead of trapping you, they helped disguise you. Both your appearance and scent changed every time you left the safety of your new home, with Jessica’s motherly instinct helping you find safety in new wigs and robes.

And so, your pregnancy went smoothly.

But it’s not to say it was easy – far from it.

Watching a baby grow inside of you all by yourself was terrifying. Not only was it terrifying, but it was also heartbreaking. Especially when the father of said baby had threatened you and him. It was even worse when you heard from Jessica that he was actively looking for you, coaxing every Spider in the Spider-Society to find you and destroy whatever was growing in your womb. How could he be so cruel? The possibility of someone killing your child just like that was frightening, but you managed to keep your fears aside for the well-being of your baby.

You could count with your fingers the peaceful nights you spent without a newborn toddler screaming and crying for your attention. For four whole years you were both mother and father, nursing and singing your baby to sleep whenever he was scared, kissing his wounds better, taking him to school, helping him talk and walk, watching him grow, looking over him the best you could.

There was no helping hand, no strong arms to hold your stomach during the day to ease your back pains, no soft rubs, and kisses on top of your belly at night, no proud displays of affection. When you gave birth to Gabriel, although surrounded by Peter and Jessica, there was no loving boyfriend or partner by your side, kissing your tears away, asking you to push, telling you you were “almost there”, holding your child in his arms and crying tears of joy, telling you you were oh so beautiful, to tell you that you were marvellous and miraculous and the most gorgeous woman alive.

While your heart could burst from the happiness of holding your son in your arms for the first time, it was also breaking at the realisation that, even if you had friends, there would be a major gap in your life that would scar you and your baby forever.

And there of course the questions. Gabriel was reaching his curious phase, and one time he had come home, asking why he did not have a daddy like his friends. That day you’d tried explaining it to him. You told him his father’s actions did not make you feel safe, and so you had to make the tough decision to protect the both of you and run away. You assured him that no matter what, you would love him unconditionally, that you were still a family, even if an unconventional one.

His reply was “Thank you mama, but I want a real daddy like my friends have!”

Tears streamed down your face until you fell asleep.

Gabriel was right. Even if he did not mean anything mean by it, even if his reply was something out of a clueless 3-year-old boy’s mouth and you shouldn’t take it to heart because he didn’t quite grasp the reality of your situation… It was still true. He needed a father, his father. You could try and try and try all you wanted, but he needed a father figure in his life, a role you’d never be able to fill.

The next day, you called Jessica and cried on her shoulders for a few hours while Gabriel was in school. She made up some stupid lie in order to be with you for the whole day, reminding you that children often said things they did not mean. Gabriel was a child; and children were way too straightforward, and it was not his intention to hurt you – wanting a father was a completely normal thing and you shouldn’t blame yourself for it.

But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt.

At first, the life you shared with Gabriel was terrifying. What if Jessica said the wrong thing, or Peter made a mistake? Thankfully, they behaved remarkably well, always prioritizing your safety and well-being over their duties to Miguel. As time went by, more people were in on your little secret. And you couldn’t help but worry. What if Hobie decided to “stick it to the man” and inform Miguel of his son? What if Pav thought “the power of love” could fix everything? What if Gwen and Miles tried to talk some sense into his head?

But luckily for you, they were all as interested at keeping Gabriel under wraps as you were. And the reason it was so easy for you to keep Gabriel away from his father was also because of Lyla. She’d witnessed the whole exchange of course, being an artificial intelligent program meant that she was everywhere Miguel habited – and that meant his home. So, she too was in on your plan, keeping everything away from Miguel. Every visit from the Spider-People, every time Gwen or Miles babysat your kid, every time something remotely urgent happened, Lyla was there to cover your tracks, and everyone else’s.

You also suspected everyone else in HQ helped, refusing to let Miguel murder an innocent child, or even help him with it. You were grateful.

Miguel was completely in the dark, he had been for 4 whole years, and you were happy it was like this.

Your son got to grow up in peace, and you got to watch him. Or so you thought.

“Honey, have you washed your teeth?” You asked as your son made his way out of the bathroom. Before he could answer, you spotted the stain of toothpaste on his chin, and bent over to quickly wash it. “There. Dashing.”

Gabriel smiled a toothy grin at you. “I’m wearing my Snoopy PJs!”

“Well, you’ll always be dashing to me. Snoopy PJs or any other kind of PJs.” You poke his tummy softly and he bends over, as ticklish as always. Before you can open your arms and embrace him, your ringtone rings through the room. You wink at Gabriel and take your phone into your hands, looking at the name on the screen.

“Oh honey, it’s auntie Jess. Give me a few minutes and I’ll tuck you in, is that okay?”

“I wanna speak to auntie Jess!” He exclaimed excitedly, to which you nodded, before picking up.

“Hey Jess! What’s up?”

“He found you.” Was all you heard on the other line before you felt your stomach fall.

What?

You couldn’t make out her words at first, but slowly, everything around you came to your consciousness again.

“Take him and go. [Y/N], can you hear me? You have to leave. I’m so sorry, we don’t know how he found out, but you need to take him and leave, now.” Jessica repeated these words urgently like a chant, and yet, all you could do was stare at Gabriel, his big eyes round and bright, his head titled to the side as he often did when confused, the little triangle in his brow all Miguel O’Hara.

You couldn’t move. Miguel had found out.

Shit.

And then someone knocked on your door. Loudly. Repeatedly. The sound echoed and rang in your ears, and it was Gabriel who brought you back to your senses by hugging your leg.

“Mama?” He inquired, looking at the door.

“Stay here. You hear me? Stay here, do mama a favour and stay here. Can you do that?”

Gabriel gave you a quick salute, a smile playing in his lips. He probably thought this was some silly game in which he acted like a big boy and his mama high-fived him and made him some chocolate milk as a reward. But unfortunately for you, there was nothing silly about this.

Your feet slowly dragged themselves to the front door, and you mustered all of the strength you had to open it.

With a deep breath, you turned the knob and pushed it open, revealing no one other than the one you feared the most.

Miguel.

You try to block the entire door with your figure, but Miguel is tall. Incredibly so. And while it used to make you squirm and gush and blush, it now fills you with a sense of dread you cannot shake away.

He takes a step forward and you speak, voice sounding braver than you were feeling.

“Leave.”

“[Y/N].”

“Miguel, I’m warning you, leave.”

He grumbled something under his breath and took another step, looking directly under him – at you. You used to love when he did it. It made you feel safe, protected, cherished. Now all you want is for him to back off.

“I do not want to force you. Let me come in, or I’ll have to. Please. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” The worst thing about Miguel was that when it came to you, he was always genuine. He never lied to you. And that did not change now. He looked almost… Scared. There was a mix of anger and sadness and… was that betrayal? In his eyes?

Nevertheless, it made you vulnerable. Such a hurtful expression from the one you once loved… You couldn’t lie and say it did not make your heart twist a few times.

“He threatened to kill your child. His child, too.” You told yourself, shaking all those soft feelings away. No use being weak, not when you wanted to protect your son.

Still, he looked genuine when he said he did not want to hurt you. And it’s not like you can take him on your own, the man is literally 6’9, built like a Greek god, and Spiderman. You wouldn’t stand a chance, and your son needs to be protected. So, you slowly back away from the door, keeping your front to Miguel and your back to Gabriel.

You take a few steps back and are about to ask him what he wants, when a small voice interrupts you.

“Mama? Who is this?” Your son, your sweet, caring, clueless son asked, his neck craning all the way up to get a good look at Miguel.

Gabriel was a big fan of Spiderman – much to your chagrin – so the thought that maybe Miguel was wearing his suit terrified you. The last thing you wanted was for your son to idolize the man who threatened to kill him while he was nothing more than just a foetus. You quickly turned, taking in Miguel fully.

He was clad in casual clothes, a white shirt underneath a black leather jacket. He was dressed normally, thank God.

Miguel’s eyes widened at the tiny voice, and he looked at the child before him.

His eyes widened.

It all clicked in his head.

His eyes darted from you to him, from him to you, over and over and over and over again. He seemed to be making the connection in his head. Soft brown curls, furrowed brow, tiny nose that resembled yours and bright eyes that belonged to none other than the woman he loved.

This was his son.

“Mama?” He asked once again, tiny hands grasping at the loose sweatpants you usually wore around the house. Tiny fists curled around the fabric as he hid behind you.

You stared, wide-eyed at Miguel. You were silently begging for him not to cause a scene, not here, not in front of your baby, most certainly not at all.

“Please…” You whisper, nudging your head towards the little guy by your feet.

After a few seconds of dead silence and a stare off, Miguel hung his head low and nodded. You sighed in relief.

“Honey, time for bed. Mommy’s gonna tuck you in, alright?” Gabriel nodded and clung to you as you picked him up securely in your arms. Tucking his little hair in the crook of your neck, you slowly took his scent in. Citrus shampoo, the lavender fabric conditioner you knew he liked, he smelled like your darling song through and through, untainted by the evil and darkness of the world, untainted by the hands and knowledge of his father.

Once he was all tucked in, teddy loyally by his side, Gabriel reached out to hold your hand in his tiny hand.

“Mama?” He probed quietly, drowsy eyes twinkling with the gentle glow his dinosaur lampshade.

“Yes, honey?” He was about to ask about the mysterious man in your living room, you were sure of it. You just weren’t quite sure what you were going to tell him yet. The truth? He couldn’t know. At least not now. Not when Miguel was just a few rooms away, waiting patiently for you. Not when you had no idea if he was still violent.

“Who is that man?” Gosh, he looked so much like his father. The furrowed brow, the squinted eyes, and pouty lips. When he was born, you huffed and puffed to Peter, saying how unfair it was that your son had inherited Miguel’s looks, even though you were the one breaking your back to carry him – and then later, take care of him.

“He’s… He’s an old friend.” Technically not a lie. Miguel had been your friend once.

“Is he the one in the pictures that make you cry?”

Oh.

What?

Noticing your confused expression, Gabriel spoke again, shrugging.

“Sometimes you cry in the living room when you look at pictures… Is he the one in them?”

Were children supposed to be this curious? Or perceptive?

How come he had picked up on you crying? It was true, sometimes your hands instinctively reached out to the old photo albums you kept on the top shelf of your living room wall cabinet, far from his reach.

There was no need to lie to your son – not when he was so smart and cared so much, not when he was so perceptive.

“Yeah, baby.” You sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He is.”

“Why do you cry? Did he do something to make you sad?” The worry in his eyes was inevitable. If the situation weren’t so scary, you’d laugh. Your sweet child, always so worried about you.

“Yeah, he did. He made mommy very sad, that’s why she cries.”

“Did you like him?”

Tears prickled at the corner of your eyes, and you fought them back. “Be strong”, you thought. You always played the part of the strong caretaker, the fearless mother who protected him against the dangers of the world – but right now, with Miguel waiting outside, you weren’t sure you were strong enough anymore.

“Yes, pumpkin. Very much. Very, very much.” You removed your hand from his hair and moved it to his round, chubby cheek. “Mommy loved her friend a lot. And I was very sad when he hurt me. Incredibly so.”

“Do you miss him?”

The question hung in the air.

Miguel was still asleep.

Today was one of those days he had decided to remain home, take a break from all the stressing Spiderman stuff and just relax.

He looked so handsome like this, lips slightly parted to breathe in and out, cheek smushed against his pillow, legs entwined with yours, arm lazily thrown across your waist. You loved him like this, before the burdens and responsibilities of the suit dawned upon him, before he was a superhero and was simply Miggy.

You’d been tenderly running a hand through his curls, enjoying the view before you. Such a handsome man, such a kind soul. Sure, he was rough with everyone else, but with you? Away from the prying eyes and annoying questions? Away from the screens and all of the Spider Society duties?

He was plush. Soft, sweet, mellow, delicate.

You were whipped for this man, truly.

He stirred awake next to you, grumbling something in Spanish you couldn’t quite hear, and shuffled closer, lips quick to latch onto the column of your neck.

“Buenos dias hermosa…” He murmured against your skin, voice groggy and deep, earning the sweetest sigh from you. His grip on your waist tightened and you turned to him, smiling. He was such a vision.

“Morning, handsome.” You smiled, tugging on his curls to tilt his head towards you. He chuckled and kissed you tenderly, as if you were a figment of a dream he hadn’t yet abandoned and could disappear at any time.

You decided to remind him you weren’t going anywhere, pressing yourself against him to kiss him harder, obtaining the most delicious moan from your boyfriend. He pulled you closer by your waist, and with a quick movement, was on top of you, arms and hands caging you beneath his figure.

“Felling cheeky, aren’t we, mi vida?”

“I’m just kissing you Miguel, nothing cheeky about that.” You were quick to defend yourself, giving him a smug look.

He lowered himself, ghosting his lips over yours, almost as if on the brink of promising the entire world to you. Instead of doing that, he laid down, hair barely grazing your breasts as he placed soft kisses on your stomach.

You knew this look.

For a while now, the conversations about children and family had become more frequent. Miguel would catch you staring at baby clothes at the mall, or interacting with toddlers who looked and waved at you, and his heart melted. You had mentioned wanting a family before but were waiting on his signal. You knew Miguel had gone through something horrible – losing the family the way he did… You couldn’t imagine how that must’ve felt.

So, you waited.

And lately, he seemed to be on the same page.

Last week, when you two had gone to the mall, he’d found you staring at a baby blue stroller, and the expecting couple examining it. You sighed, hands slowly trailing up to your stomach. Someday you hoped that would be you.

And it was then Miguel realised that he would want nothing more than to see you pregnant with his child, round and soft and plush and his, for the whole world to see.

He could picture it, you sitting in your garden, sunbathing and applying lotions on your baby bump, and him, by your side, kissing your forehead and placing his hand on your stomach to feel his child kick.

You, waddling over to him when your cravings got the better of you, begging him to get you some pickles and strawberry jam, promising nothing in this world you make you happier or satisfy you more – even if the combination did seem disgusting. ~

You, sitting down on a big chair, breasts exposed as you gently nursed your child. Your baby would have its tiny, miniscule hand on your chest as he drank your milk, and Miguel would be watching from the doorway as you fed your son, before placing him to sleep.

He could see himself too.

Playing with his child in the park, teaching his son how to play football, helping his daughter score goals, lifting his child over his head once they won their first game, reading them bedtime stories and saying “Don’t tell your mom” whenever they got into trouble.

It was all so very vivid.

“Miguel?”

He could picture it all, reach before him and grasp it.

“Honey?”

How pretty you would look, all swollen with his child.

“Earth to Miguel?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he sighed, kissing your stomach.

“Mi vida, I think…” He looked up at you, fondness and love nearly spilling from his gorgeous brown eyes and held your hand in his. “I think… How would you feel about starting a family with me?”

There. It was out. He’d said it.

And although he knew what your answer would be, his heart still flipped when your eyes turned into crescents, and your lips curled into a gorgeous smile.

“A family? With me? Really?” You sounded so fucking happy; it made his heart swell. Was it possible to love someone as much as he loved you?

“Yeah,” Miguel replied, and pressed his hand against your stomach. He could almost feel it. Picture your baby bump, feel the soft kicking of your child against your stomach, a silent reminder that it was alive and breathing and waiting to meet you. “A family. You and I and our child… What do you say?”

You giggle – you giggle! And por Dios if it isn’t the most gorgeous sound he has ever had the blessing of hearing. If anyone asked what Miguel’s favourite type of music was, he’d probably say it was the sound of your laughter. Either that, or the pretty mewls you make for him when it’s late and he’s needy and you’re oh so pliant.

“I say it’s perfect!” Hands fly to his hair, and suddenly he’s being pulled towards you, lips hungrily crashing onto his. You kissed him with everything you had. All of the love you felt for him, the love you felt for the family that was yet to come, the joy, the laughter, you tried expressing it all through this kiss.

And he smiled because nothing would ever make him as happy as you do. Nothing would ever get him to smile as much as you do. Nothing would ever complete his life the way you did, and he was so, so grateful for that. He kissed you back, hands carefully placing themselves on your hips to steady you, yours gripping his jaw to bring him closer.

When you parted away from air, he looked at you through lidded eyes, a very familiar form of desire dancing in the brown of his irises. You smiled sheepishly and watched him shrug his shoulders.

“Well, I guess… Since we’re on the topic of baby making…” He whispered near your ear, relishing in the full body shiver it elicited from you.

“Now who’s the cheeky one?” You faced him, brow comically raised at him.

You were so cute; Miguel could just eat you up.

And there was no one to stop him.

“Shh, hermosa, don’t give me that.” Barely a whisper, and yet it made heat pool in your lower belly, and your face warm upr. “I’m just saying, we should start practicing.”

With one swift movement, he was between your legs and your laughter filled the room.

Everything seemed right in the world.

Not at all. Not anymore.

“No, I don’t.” You absentmindedly ran your finger through Gabriel’s hair, “Not anymore. Right now, I have you, and you’re all I need.”

“Do you want me to draw a picture for you? I can draw a giraffe because I know you like them, and then you’ll smile and be happy.” This got a chuckle out of you. Always trying to cheer you up, this one, no matter what.

“Mommy would love it if you drew her a picture of a giraffe. It’d make me super happy.”

“Okay then! I’m gonna do it tomorrow, and I’m gonna use the crayons Mrs. Camille gave me, so it will look extra special –“ Before your son could continue, you smiled and ran an index finger from his forehead to the tip of his nose, a small gesture between the two of you, one that had a bazillion meanings. But right now it meant something around “Time for bed”.

Gabriel looked up sheepishly, shrugging.

“Can you sing for me?”

You felt slightly self-conscious about singing to him, especially since Miguel was standing right in the other room, and you used to sing this song to him.

“Let him hear”, you thought. He meant nothing to you anymore. This song was no longer his.

The song came to you naturally as you stroked Gabriel’s curls and watched his cheeks huff and puff, his slow breathing reminding you that he was here, safe and sound.

“Querido Cada momento de mi vida Yo pienso en ti más cada día Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

All it took was one single stanza and he was already fast asleep. You chuckled to yourself and kissed the top of his forehead. He looked so peaceful; you took a mental picture of this moment.

Because perhaps, it’d be the last one you’d have.

You took a deep breath and stood up, not wanting to delay what was to come any more. Miguel was standing in your living room. You couldn’t hide from him forever, and you weren’t going to.

Closing Gabriel’s door, you decided to once and for all, face the man who had broken your heart four years ago.

The fact that he spoke to you first didn’t surprise you – Miguel had always been straightforward. It was what he said that caught you off guard.

“Was that…?” He asked, clearly referring to the song.

Stay strong. Don’t waver. You have to be strong for your family.

“Yes. Yes, it was Querida.” Your voice sounded certain, confident. You weren’t feeling very confident, but the taste it left on your tongue was quite nice. It made you feel more and want more. A placebo, maybe, but right now, you took all the help you could get.

Miguel chuckled dryly, running a hand through his hair.

“Wow. I haven’t heard that song in… What? Four? Maybe five years?” How dare he act like everything was normal? Like you had simply forgotten to sing it for him, like instead of Querida, you’d started singing Para Siempre from Doreen Montalvo. He seemed too at ease.

“Yes, well. How sad.”

He stared at you, unsure of what to say. And was that regret on his face? Regret? Fear? You couldn’t tell. And it’s not like it mattered – Miguel had to leave. That much was final.

“And… And, well…” He stammered, eyes darting behind you, to the closed door of your son’s room. “He…”

“He’s yours.” You cut him off coldly. Why was he dancing around the subject? Miguel looked at you and swallowed harshly, scratching the back of his neck. You wouldn’t let him be meek and weak, you couldn’t. He had no right to. “What? Wasn’t that what you were going to ask?”

Miguel straightened himself, regaining some of the composure he’d lost earlier.

“I see.” He nodded and nudged his head towards your kitchen – that’s when you saw it.

“I did your dishes.”

Your brow furrows and your eyes widen all at once.

Your dishes?

“You were tucking, um, our, well, your, um… The kid. You were tucking him in, and I thought maybe I could be of help.” He looked so earnest it almost hurt you. Ever the gentleman, your Miggy. When you were together, no matter how late he got home, no matter how tired he was, Miguel still made time to help around the house. Cleaning, cooking, doing whatever it took to make sure you had no extra burdens.

But right now?

You didn’t care if he was Spiderman, you didn’t care if he was nearly 7 feet tall and wide and strong enough to snap you in two – you wanted to punch him in the face. Oh, so badly.

The anger took over you and you scoffed at him.

“Oh! You wanted to help, huh?” You leaned against the couch and raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “I see. Well, thank you for the help, Miguel. Unfortunately for you, I don’t need you to take care of household chores for me. Washing a few plates isn’t going to change anything.”

He winced at your words. Good.

“I just thought –“

“Well, you thought wrong.” You interrupt him once again. This conversation is not going to be about him. He’s not the victim, he’s not the vulnerable one. He doesn’t get to be vulnerable.

“[Y/N], we need to talk.”

“No, we don’t. You need to leave, and I need to get some sleep.”

“No, please, we need to talk. We have to.” He sounded desperate. Goodness, you loved it. His eyes were filled with something you’d never seen before. The bags under them reveal he must not have been getting a lot of sleep, and he kept pinching the bridge of his nose as if in exhaustion. You weren’t naïve – not anymore. You didn’t feel bad for him per se.

But seeing the man who once seemed to carry the weight of the world in his shoulders, who took care of an entire city and never even wavered, look so defeated… Well. It did pull at your heart strings a little bit. Maybe that’s why you nodded and gestured over to your couches, sitting down in one of them and waiting for Miguel to do the same.

Maybe that’s why you watched as Miguel sat on the couch facing the TV and waited for him to speak.

“[Y/N], I… Mierda… No sé por donde empezar…” He cursed under his breath, head hanging low.

“I don’t have all night, Miguel.”

Oh, how he missed hearing his name spill from your lips. But now, instead of filled with love and warmth, you spit the words almost like they are poisonous, like you can’t hold them on your tongue for more than two seconds without them corrupting you.

He supposed he did that to you.

“I suppose I should start by apologizing…” Miguel finally looked at you, brown eyes staring into yours. You’d have done anything for those eyes once upon a time. Not anymore. “[Y/N], that night, all those months ago… I can’t begin to explain how sorry I am…”

So he was here to apologize? Was that it? Did you even want to hear his apology? Were you going to forgive him?

“When I told you those things, when I told you to…” He averted his gaze for a few seconds, probably too ashamed to look at you as he remembered telling you to kill your child. And you felt good that he was ashamed. He deserved to be. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I was scared. Scared it would happen again, what happened to my sweet Gabriella… I lashed out on you, and I scared you. I’m so sorry.”

You nodded once, and upon hearing no reply from you, he continued.

“I… I really have no excuse other than that. Seeing Gabriella disappear right before my eyes, it… Mierda, it really scared me. So, when I read that test, when I saw you were pregnant, I was afraid it would happen again.”

Miguel found you staring at him, unimpressed, unmoved. Did his words mean nothing? Had he reached you?

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Is that why you came here? To apologize?” You questioned him, brow quirked.

“Well, yeah. You deserve an apology mi vi- [Y/N]. What I did to you was inexcusable. And yet, I hope that someday you manage to find it within your heart to forgive me. You know I’ve never lied to you, and I’m still telling you the truth when I say I’m so, so, so sorry. I’m ashamed of how I behaved, I was a monster, and you didn’t deserve that.”

For some unknown reason, his words made you weak, if only for a few seconds. You saw in front of you, your Miguel, your sweet, sweet Miggy who brought you breakfast in bed, who kissed your period cramps away, who carried you when you were too tired to walk, who treated you like you were God’s gift to green earth. You saw him scared and vulnerable and hurt, and all you wanted to do was take him in your arms and hold him tightly until all of the pain was nothing but a distant memory.

But you also couldn’t ignore the other Miguel, the Miguel who had jumped and punched a wall and yelled at you, demanding you to get rid of your baby, and forcing others to do it. No matter how much you had once loved him, Gabriel was your life now, and you couldn’t allow yourself to feel soft over someone who would do something so inhuman as threaten an unborn child.

“Thank you for the apology.” You told him. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have things to do. Now, please leave.”

He seemed confused by that. Leave?

“Wait – what?”

Standing up, you gently adjusted the couch you were sitting on, and shrugged at him.

“Yes. I have heard your apology, and now I want you to leave.”

“Well, what is your response?”

“To what?”

“To the apology.”

“I’m not accepting it.”

“What?”

What was he expecting? You to run into his arms with tears of joy, kissing him until he was dizzy and proclaiming his love for him? Was that it?

“You heard me,” You crossed your arms, “I’m not accepting your apology.”

“But – I thought – “

“You thought what, exactly?” Now your words were pure venom, meant to poison his skin and hurt his heart. You wanted him to feel a least a fraction of the hurt and pain he caused you, of the heartbreak he submitted you to. “That you could just come in here after I actively ran from you, after I tried to hide, and you would solve everything by washing my dishes and giving me a half-assed apology?”

“[Y/N], I told you what happened, I’m sorry, I was scared – “

“How do you think I felt, huh?” You felt the rage in the back of your throat. It hurt. It felt nice to let your anger out, to direct it at him, the source of your ache. “How do you think I felt when you threatened my baby? Were you also scared when you sent your Spider-People after my child and I?”

“What?” Miguel looked at you, dropping his hands to his sides.

“That’s right. I’m not stupid, Miguel, I know what you did. You asked for them to search for me, and to kill my son. You think all of that is washed away simply by apologising?”

“I was afraid you’d disappear on me too!” He pleaded, hands gesturing to his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what else to say, how else to show you how heartbroken I am…”

“Well then, perhaps you should’ve thought about all that before you decided to have a child with me, Miguel. You don’t get to do this – You don’t get to picture a future with me, with our family, you don’t get to tell me you’re ready only to then threaten us. You should’ve voiced those concerns instead of taking it out on me. You got me pregnant and didn’t even deal with the consequences of your actions!” You threw your hands in the air, desperately trying to make him see your side. Could he not understand the gravity of the situation?

“You should’ve told me. We would’ve worked something out, Miguel, I knew we would’ve.” Your vision becomes blurry – all these emotions aren’t really helping your “Don’t waver” plan, but at this point you just need to vent your frustrations. “But what you did? It felt like betrayal. We were trying for a baby, and when I finally got pregnant, you threatened us. I know what happened to you in the past, and I can’t imagine how it must’ve hurt, but it is no excuse for what you did to me.”

For a while, the both of you were silent. There was nothing else to say.

“What’s his name?” He asked silently, looking at Gabriel’s door.

You hesitated, but figured telling him what you had named your child probably didn’t hurt.

“Gabriel. His name is Gabriel.”

His eyes twinkled in acknowledgment. You had wanted to name your son anything that had nothing to do with his father, but you couldn’t. You considered that your last act of kindness towards Miguel.

“After my brother?”

“Who else?” You looked away.

“He… He’s beautiful. He looks…”

“Like you, I know.” You’d made your peace with it, sure, but sometimes it still stung that your child looked nothing like you, you who carried him and took care of him and fed him and rocked him to sleep. Instead, he was a near perfect copy of his father, opting to act like you, rather than look like you.

“How is he?” Miguel felt scared to ask. He wasn’t sure if you were going to tell him anything – and why should you?

“He’s… He’s the greatest kid ever. He’s smart and kind, and so considerate. He’s his own little man, even though he’s only four years old…” A smile spread across your lips, as you always did when talking about your son. He was your pride and joy, after all.

“Will I…” Miguel hesitated. You know what’s coming. “Will I get to meet him?”

“No. Not if I can help him.”

Miguel’s lips formed a tight line.

“[Y/N], he’s my son too –“

“No, he’s not. You might be related by blood, but that doesn’t make him your son, and it most certainly doesn’t make you his father. You lost that right when you threatened to kill him, and sent your goons to do it.” Your voice was getting louder, so you tried to lower it. The last thing you wanted was to wake Gabriel up.

“You can’t do this. I have a right to see him.” Miguel’s voice was also getting louder. Not only that, but he had also gotten up, towering over you. So much for weakness and desperation, this Miguel looked the same as the one you left four years ago.

“You don’t, that’s the thing. I don’t trust you around my son. I’ve spent the past four years trying to protect him from you, and I’m not going to stop now.” As if by instinct, you placed yourself right in front of him, blocking his passage to Gabriel’s room. Could he snap you in half and get to him by himself? Yeah. Were you going to let that stop you? No.

“What did you tell him? What lies did you tell our son?” Was it just you, or were his eyes turning red?

“My son. And I told him the truth, that his father wasn’t making me feel safe, so I had to run in order to protect him.”

Miguel visibly flinched at those words. He never wanted to make you feel unsafe, never.

“I understand I made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be a part of his life.” His expression changed to something darker – you weren’t sure how long you had until he snapped. A mistake? How dare he downplay his actions like this?

“That is precisely what it means. I want you away from my son.”

“He needs a father. What if – what if he inherits my abilities, huh? What are you going to do then?”

That’s when you snapped.

“He needs ME!” Hot tears streamed down your face, and you did not try to stop them. “Do you understand? Me. I am his mother. I cared for him for the 9 months he was inside of me, scared shitless because I didn’t know what you might do if you found us. I took care of him for 4 whole years. I was the one who fed him, I was the one who changed his diapers, I was the one rocked him to sleep when he cried and I’d been awake for hours, I was the one who gave up everything and started from scratch because of him! And what did you do? You whispered pretty things in my ear and got me pregnant, and then got scared and proceeded to tell me to kill my child! That’s not something a father does!” The words kept spilling from your lips and there was no way to stop them. You could finally speak freely, get him to understand the pain he put you through.

“If my son happens to inherit your abilities, then I will take care of it. Just like I’ve been doing all these years, I will take care of it. You’ve done nothing for us, and we don’t need you. I don’t need you Miguel, I don’t love you anymore. My priorities in life have changed, and now they lie in the safety and well-being of my son. So, for once in your life, stop being so fucking stubborn and LEAVE!”

“Mama?”

Your heart fell as soon as you heard Gabriel’s scared voice.

Shit.

You turned to him, only to be meet with a teary-eyed child, holding onto his teddy bear way too tightly.

“Honey, I… I’m sorry… Did I wake you up?” Your voice was automatically gentler, lower, something above a whisper, something reserved for him and him alone. Right now, you didn’t care that Miguel was right there, angry, and tall, all you cared about was your son, who looked so, so scared it nearly killed you.

“I heard you yelling…” He murmured, running towards you and hiding his face on the crook of your neck. His tears fell on your skin and you allowed yourself to cry with him, clutching him close to you, afraid he’d disappear right before your eyes because of your actions.

“I’m so sorry…” You mumbled into his hair, hoping all the love and sincerity you felt right now could be translated into words. “Honey, I’m so sorry, mommy got angry and started yelling… I promise it won’t happen again… I’m so, so sorry…”

You felt Gabriel nod, and pressed your lips to his head, a thousand promises laced in one simple kiss.

Standing up and turning to Miguel, you gave him a serious look, despite your puffy face and red eyes.

“You should leave. For good.”

And for all his bravado, Miguel couldn’t help but melt when he looked at your son, at his round, bright eyes, and small pout. He might look like his father, but right now, he was all you. It killed him. He drove you to yell, he drove you to be mad and wake him up. Mierda. He’d fucked up again.

Miguel took his son in one last time, telling himself he’d keep an eye on him from afar, and nodded before walking away and leaving you alone in your living room.

You locked the door behind him, heart tightening.

You’d made the right choice.

“Would you mind sleeping with mommy tonight? I think I need my brave little boy to scare away the monsters…” You whispered.

This earned a chuckle out of Gabriel, who nodded and placed a hand on his forehead in a salute, no doubt imitating the cartoons he watched.

“I’m going to protect you!”

You smiled and took him to your bedroom once more, not even bothering to change. Your sweatpants were comfortable anyways.

Holding Gabriel close to you, you sighed when you heard him speak.

“That man said he was my father…”

You pressed your lips. However were you going to work this one out?

“Was he the one you wanted to protect me from?”

You let your hands run through his hair.

“Yeah, my love. He was.”

“How did he find us?”

That was a good question. With all of the yelling and anger, you’d forgotten to ask. But after all, this was Miguel you were talking about. He was a genius and would surely always find a way to you, sooner or later.

“I’m not sure. But he won’t hurt us. I promise.” You looked at him, offering him your best reassuring smile. Truth was, you weren’t sure he would follow you once again. But what you were sure of, was that you would always do your best to protect him and keep him safe.

Gabriel looked into your eyes and slowly wiped away what was left of your tears.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

No matter how used you were to it, it would always catch you by surprised how perceptive and intelligent your son was. You smiled slowly grabbing his hand and kissing it.

“I know.”

“Are you scared?” He asked again, his eyes droopy and his lips parting to let out a big yawn.

“I was a few minutes ago. But I’m gonna tell you a secret. That alright?” You moved your hand to cup his cheek.

“Mhm…” Gabriel mumbled, sounding like he was dozing off already.

“Mommy is never scared when you’re by her side.” It was barely a whisper, and you didn’t even know if he had heard it. Still, you added, “I’ll always be strong for you.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you watched his gentle breathing.

And then, words.

“I love you, mama.”

They were barely audible, but nevertheless, they were there.

A few tears managed to escape – tears of joy, of love.

You would always do your best to protect him. You’d always be there to hold his hand and watch him grow, watch him become his own person, cheering him on as he went.

No matter what came your way, no matter what happened, you’d always be there by his side. For the good things, for the bad things, for the so-so things. To hold him tightly when he felt clingier than usual, to pin his drawings on the fridge, to hear him babble about whatever new topic he’d discovered in school, even if you were tired beyond reason and all you wanted was for him to go to sleep so you could get some rest.

You’d be there to tie his shoes until he could do it by himself, and to clean his face whenever he got too excited with his lunch. You’d be there to explain to him what a “memamporphosis” was, and to listen to him explain to you why Spiderman was the greatest of heroes.

You’d be there when he cried, and when he laughed.

And be there when he wasn’t yours anymore.

Four years ago, you had chosen him, and you would always choose him, for as long as you breathed.

“I love you too, my sweet boy.”

Spanish Translations

Mi cielo - My sky Mierda - Shit My vida - My life Te amo con todo mi ser - I love you with all of my being Eres la luz de mi vida - You're the light of my life Estás embarazada? - You're pregnant? Perdóname - Forgive me Buenos dias hermosa - Good morning beautiful Querida / Querido - Dear (While Querida is meant for a female partner, Querido is meant for a male partner, both are a term of endearement and have the same meaning) No sé por donde empezar - I don't know where to start

If you'd like to check out the song's translation, you can check this page out!

I hope you enjoyed this! Have an amazing day ahead, please keep yourself hydrated and safe <3

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel spiderman #across the spiderver fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n

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spiderfunkz · 4 months

Text

✦ I LOVE THE SMITHS, AND YOU!

summary : you love the smiths, peter loves you.

word count : 0,8k

warnings : fluff, reader is oblivious & peter is just peter, not proofread btw.

a/n : based on this request!! my requests for peter are like always open so feel free to send in your thoughts <33 also this is inspired by that one scene in 500 days of summer but on a budget.

peter parker was in love.

sorry, correction, is in love.

he didn't know when this little crush started.

maybe it was in the 5th grade, when he was paired with you to do a project together, that's when he first met you. he remembered how he'd admire you as you glued those stupid looking dinosaurs on the cardboard.

he remembered how your overgrown bangs were almost covering your eyes. he remembered how he'd ask why you didn't cut it, and how you replied with — "i dunno, i don't want to cut it yet. my mumma told me hair holds memories. and i don't want to forget those memories."

he remembered how that reply made him smile. how he'd knew you two would get along somehow. and also, since then he became really picky when it comes to haircuts.

or maybe it was in the 9th grade. when you were one of the few people that wished him a happy birthday. he remembered that you gave him a really big smile, and he always noted how it was the prettiest smile he has ever seen, well, other than aunt may's of course.

or maybe it was last week. when you sat next to him in french class.

maybe it's because he noticed how your bangs were now blended with the rest of your hair, how he'd realized you never cut it since 5th grade. he wondered how many memories you have kept because of it. he wonders if he's in any of those.

he also wonders if you ever noticed that he liked you. how he'd always steal a glance when you're not looking, how he had your birthday marked on every calendar he has owned, or how he'd save up to buy you the things you looked at for too long.

maybe you did. and maybe you didn't know what to think of it.

to be completely honest, you were never much of a romantic.

never really. in your entire life you only liked two and a half things. the pasta your mom cooked, your hair, and sometimes, peter parker.

well, most of the time, peter parker. i mean he's your friend of course you like him! he's funny, he has nice soft hair that you just want to run your fingers through, he's smart and witty but he never brags about it, he cares for you, and his hand intertwines with yours perfectly.

okay, maybe you like him more than a friend. but that's another story you don't want to get too deep into.

"how about this?" you ask, holding peter's 'the smiths ; the queen is dead' cd in your hand.

you were supposed to do your english essay with peter today in his room, but like every other work you do with peter in his room, you both end up getting distracted.

"i forgot i had that, i loved it." he smiles, "put it on." he says, gesturing to the cd player.

"i love love this album! i can't believe you forgot you had this." you turn the player on as the song starts to play.

"you can keep it if you want, since you like it so much." peter says. "really?" — "of course." peter nods.

"thanks, peter. you're the best." you sat next to him.

peter hands you the paper you were supposed to do your essay on. "i wrote half of it with a pencil, you can just trace it with a pen." he smiles. "oh my god, peter. you know i could've done it myself." — "yeah but then it'll take you 5 hours and no sleep. besides, i'm almost done with mine too, so."

"aw, thanks." you lean your head on his shoulder as you read what he wrote on the paper. you focus on the paper, not noticing that peter's face is turning bright red.

a few minutes pass by and peter's calming down, he leans his head on yours. but when he does your head immediately jerk up. "oh i love this part!" you turn the volume up. "don't you?" you turn to peter, he nods.

"to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die!" you sang. "ugh, i love the smiths." you lean forward to grab a pen so you could finish the essay.

peter looks at you as you hum to the song. he notices your cherry tinted lips, and how your hair is clipped to the side with a clip that peter bought you years ago. he looks at you with such care and love. though unfortunately, you don't notice that.

you look to peter, "what do i have something on my face?". peter looks away, "oh uh no, sorry."

you furrow your brows. "you sure?" peter nods. "okay..." you laugh.

you continue to nod to the song, the pen in your hand overwriting peter's messy handwriting. "i loveee the smiths." you repeated.

"i loveee you." peter blurts out. he hopes it wasn't too loud, but you seem to be focused on the song and your paper.

"huh?" you turn to peter. "what? huh." peter awkwardly looks away, again. you look at him for a bit before smiling, "did you say you loveee the smiths too? i thought you weren't that big of a fan anymore." you clearly misheard him.

peter was dumbfounded, sure he didn't want you to hear that. but at the same time he did want you to hear that. "no i uh- i said, i love you."

"you love, me?" you ask.

"yeah, l-o-v-e."

"love love?"

"yeah. love love."

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bonny-kookoo · 11 months

Note

Intrinsic

Can we see how jungkook feels about human mating rituals like kissing? Do people from his planet kiss or have intercourse??

"I'm back!" You chirp, leaning over the couch to peck his cheek- making him freeze for a good moment as he seems to take time to process what you just did, it seems like.

He's decided to stay with you after your little confession weeks prior- but it seems like relationships in his culture might seem to differ greatly judging from his reaction to your affection. It's like he's not sure what you're trying to do.

So you sit down next to him on the couch, hands in your lap while he curiously smiles at you.

"Say, Jungkook..." you wonder, and he perks up, tail rising. "What are.. relationships like, on your planet?" You ask, and he seems to think.

"Well, we..." he starts, speech having returned by 90% until now- though he still has some hiccups here and there. "...live together?" He shrugs. "Share our bed, protect each other when we sleep.. hm.. and when we want a child we engage in intercourse. Is that odd?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Do you.. like, not kiss? Hold hands?" You wonder, and he shrugs, before shaking his head. "Cuddle?"

"We cuddle with our young, yes!" He excitedly explains. "Because it gives a sense of safety and nurturing that they need. That's why I like when we.. cuddle. Because I like the feeling it gives me." He says. "What's kissing? Is that what you did just a moment ago?" He asks, and you shrug, nodding.

"Kind of. We.. kiss on the lips. When we love each other, you know." You say. "And we uh.. also, have intercourse without.. you know, the goal to have a child." You say.

"But.. so, that's normal here?" He asks. "I've.. hm. There's a few on my planet who do that too, me.. included. But it's not common. It's kind of.. 'frowned upon' I think is what they say here." He says.

"Oh, OK." You nod. "Please tell me if I do something that could bother you next time, yeah?" You say kindly, when he leans in, eyes determined.

"Please kiss me." He asks, moving closer. "You say when.. you love someone, you kiss them. I want to do that." He rambles.

"You don't have to. I love you without it too-" you try and explain, but he growls under his breath, tail whopping around in frustration.

"I want to know!" He argues. "I want to try!" He demands, and you lean in at that, pecking his lips-

And he's frozen in place after, eyes wide open, blinking for a few times, as if he's processing what just happened. "So?" You tilt your head, and at that he moves again, moving closer, his hands on your shoulders.

"Again." He breathes out watching you. "I want to.. learn."

"You like it?" You ask, and he whines, nodding impatiently.

"I do, now do it again, I want to kiss!" He demands, making you giggle as you lean in again, kissing him a bit longer-

Until he seems to catch on how it works, hands moving to hold your face in his palms, something set alight inside him when you try and open your mouth, tongue poking against his piercing in something like a test.

But instead it sets him off, as he leans in, pushing you onto your back as he takes over, using what he's learned immediately.

Maybe it's instincts. Yeah, it might be that.

"You make me-" he gasps, struggling to take control of himself again. "-want to do much more than just this.." he hums, leaning back a little to watch you. "I wonder how your kind acts on lust." He mumbles, watching your chest rise and fall, collarbone exposed as he traces it with his fingers. "I want to.. act on lust with you." He wonders, making you shrug.

"I mean, not a bad thing." You say. "We do it to be romantic and, you know, show love. And well, there won't be a child either. I'm not ready to be a mom yet." You joke, though he seems to be more serious about it.

"I understand." He agrees. "I don't have to finish. I just want to.. engage in the way you humans love, with you." He tells you.

"I mean, you can still cum." You giggle. "You know.. inside, too. Doesn't really matter since I've got an IUD." You shrug.

"What's that?" He wonders, and you laugh.

"I'll explain it someday, but its a bit too complicated right now." You laugh.

"So I can.. finish?" He asks, eyes wide open, pupils blown wide, round and almost swallowing all of his irises, as he watches you nod. "...inside?" He asks almost as if it's illegal to say it out loud, and you nod again, laughing. "But not here!" He suddenly says, picking you up to carry you into his room he's been sleeping in.

And though you do only end up cuddling and making out, it's still a pretty damn good time to you. It prepares you for what's might coming at some point-

And you're not sure if you should be intimidated, or excited for it.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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thefallennightmare · 8 months

Text

Miracle-three

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: I forgot how much I hate slow burns. So we'll see how long it lasts. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13

A yawn fell from my lips as I snuggled deeper into the bed, a blanket wrapped around me like a cacoon to keep in the warmth. It was my first day off in four days and with the constant traveling; I was relishing being able to sleep in an actual bed. The bunks on the tour bus weren't terrible but with Bryan's snoring I was thankful for the quiet night of sleep ahead. The sun was setting, the orange glow painting over the walls of the room, and I only left the bed to go to the bathroom or grab my room service. The entire day was dreading tomorrow because that's when I had to send Lana her first paycheck and I was about three hundred dollars short.

My mom had been doing great, even remembering who I was when we talked on the phone. Something about hearing my voice but not seeing my face must have helped. It warmed my heart that we had conversations about things like we used too before she got sick.

I could explain to Lana the situation. I'm sure she would understand.

Somehow I doubted that which is why I was heavily researching my idea, wondering what the risks were and if the payout was worth it. Everyone online who had a page said they could pay for things they wouldn't have with a regular job. I would have my own rules and wouldn't worry about sharing it with a partner. I could post what I wanted whenever I wanted. The only risky thing would be someone recognizing me and with who I worked for, I wasn't completely sold on the idea yet.

"I don't have to show my face," I told myself as I sat up, deciding pretty hastily.

Desperation made people do drastic things and starting an Only Fans was my last resort; I had no other options.

The phone on my camera wouldn't do and I sucked in my bottom lip, wondering if what I was about to do was a good idea. I needed a better camera and set up while also having a credit card with a high enough limit, though it was for emergencies.

Isn't this one? Think of it as an investment.

Agreeing with the voice in my mind, I scrambled out of bed and quickly stepped into a pair of black sweats and hoodie to match. I cringed when I noticed myself in the mirror and made quick work to make myself look somewhat presentable.

The walk to the nearest store was only a few minutes, and I enjoyed the sounds of the hustle bustle of the city as people walked passed me, their own ideas for the night fueling them. I knew little about cameras and thought about asking Bryan some advice but knowing I might have to tell him why I needed one didn't sit well with me

As I was leaving the store, two bags in hand and $500 more in debt, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and when I read the message, I couldn't help but let out a groan.

Davis, yet again, was inviting me out to dinner tonight with him and the crew. I ignored his first two because I really had plans to lie in bed all day. Now, the only thing I wanted to do was get my profile set up and start posting so I could make money as soon as I could. Plus, Noah was avoiding me ever since the night of the first show when Jolly caught us together. Nothing happened but to Noah, it was as if they caught us fucking.

The thought caused a flush to creep to my cheeks as another text came in.

Davis: If money is an issue, it's on the crew tonight. The last few days have been crazy and we want a night out to relax.

It was true; every show this tour is sold out which made for a crazy night. Everyone in the band and crew were exhausted so a night out was something we all needed.

Me: I'm already out, where should I meet you guys?

Davis: there's this Mexican restaurant right around the block from the hotel. Meet in an hour?

Perfect amount of time to set up and record my first video. I never was a modest person, even if I never had a boyfriend. A few hookups here and there gave me some experience, but I also knew what my body liked, hence me bringing a few differnt kinds of toys with me. After the first tour, I realized how lonely I got out on the road.

I refused to prove Noah right I was only here to fuck someone; which was not true. But that didn't mean I couldn't think of a certain tattooed vocalist while I filmed, right?

An hour and fifteen minutes and red flushed cheeks later, I was practically running out of the hotel to make it in time to the restaurant. As usual, I was running late, but that was because it took me some time to figure out how to edit and post the video to my page. What I filmed wasn't exactly raunchy but just enough to keep people wanting to come back.

I was in a rush to get to the restaurant that I nearly missed the body that I collided in. Strong arms wrap around me to keep me steady as I looked up into those dark eyes that haunted me every second of every day. My heart fell deep into the pits of my stomach as embarrassment filled my veins, knowing that face was the reason for my orgasm less than an hour ago.

Noah gave me a look as slowly removed his arms from me, Jolly and Folio standing on either side of him.

"Where's the fire, angel?" He asked while drinking in the sight of me with a wide grin.

In my pussy.

He was wearing a grey sweater; the hood pulled up over his head and white hat. I cursed my vagina as it throbbed at the sight of him and my pet name.

"Uh, I was meeting Davis and others for dinner," I pointed behind me, stuttering over my words a bit.

Jolly smiled. "We're headed there too. Care if we walk with you?"

Him and Folio, not at all. Noah, yes I minded.

I didn't appreciate him acting different around me when we were alone as opposed to when people were around us.

"Nope," I smiled.

The four of us walked quietly to the restaurant with Folio next to me, Jolly and Noah behind us. Folio bumped his shoulder with me which made me peer up at him.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in a while. Outside of work," he said.

I gave a half shrug. "Just been keeping to myself the last few days."

"Does that have anything to do with," Folio threw a thumb over his shoulder towards Noah.

"No," I said a little too quickly, afraid as if he could see in my mind what I had been doing back in my room. "I forgot how busy life on the road is, that's all."

"What did he do to make you avoid him?" he asked, seeing right through my lie.

This caused Noah to step closer to the two of us, forcing his way between Folio and I.

"I didn't do anything," Noah defended.

My body was still buzzing post orgasm so having him this close to made my stomach flutter and head hazy.

"Right," I muttered under my breath and gave myself some space from him, allowing Jolly to take my spot next to Noah.

"Did we do anything to put you off?" Jolly asked.

I shook my head. "No, not at all. Everyone has been nice. I meant what I said, I've just been tired."

Noah peered over at me past Jolly, something unreadable on his face, but said nothing while we turned the block, the restaurant coming into view. Davis, Byran, Matt, and Nick Ruffilo were already seated at a table outside as we walked up. My phone buzzed in my pocket and as I saw yet another notification from Only Fans, I didn't realize that the only open seat was next to Noah.

Cursing under my breath, I sat tentatively next to him and pocketed my phone, not wanting him to peak over my shoulder and see the notification.

I had a few new subscribers which meant people were paying for my content. Maybe soon things will start picking up and I wouldn't have to worry as much.

The server came over to take our order and I frowned at Matt as he ordered a pitcher of beer for all of us to share.

"Can I have a water and four chicken tacos please?" I asked with a smile.

"You don't want a beer?" Matt asked.

I shook my head. "I don't drink; well much anyway. I do for special occasions but not really feeling like it right now."

Noah muttered something under his breath, and my eyes snapped over to him.

"Care to share what you mumbling under your breath?"

"You seemed pretty into it last tour in Chicago," he didn't bother to look away from his phone.

I stared at him with my jaw slack, upset for him bringing up that night but also amazed that he remembered that. With the way his jaw ticked and his hand gripped around his phone, it was clear he thought of that night often. I got drunk after a show because the guy I'd been talking to all night and flirting with was actually married. His wife was the reason why he was at the show in the first place but decided to hang out at the merch booth instead.

"Is that why you're such a dick to me?" I wondered.

Thankfully, the server had left, so they didn't have to watch us bicker but for the rest of the guys at the table, it didn't save them.

"You guys get drunk all the time. The one night I did, you hold it against me? For what?" I snapped.

I wasn't yelling but the table next to us spared us a few glances of concern.

"We don't need someone to carry us from the venue to the hotel, three blocks," Noah finally met my gaze.

I scoffed, completely baffled this was why he was such an asshole towards me. Because I got drunk last tour and he had to carry me back to the hotel?

"You're fucking unbelievable, Noah." I shook my head and turned away from him.

If I wasn't starving, I would head back to the hotel. But I already ordered and didn't want my food to go to waste.

Folio, who was sitting on my other side, looked at me with sympathetic eyes and gave my knee a squeeze underneath the table. The rest of dinner passed by with Noah and I not speaking another word to each other while the others chatted amongst themselves. I ate my food and sipped at my water in peace, checking my phone every now and then to see if Lana had texted me back. It was almost eight in the evening, and I debated on wondering if it was too late to call to talk to my mom when my phone rang.

Excusing myself from the table, I walked down the block to answer the call. It was a fast phone call, my mom being too exhausted to talk. Instead, I caught up with Lana.

"Alright, well let me know how she is in the morning. I'll be in the bus for half of the day so I can talk with her," I sighed.

"I will, dear. She's so exhausted from today. I looked through some photo albums with her to help her remember but nothing. There was nothing in her eyes."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded even though Lana couldn't see.

"Yeah, those vacant eyes. It's been happening a lot lately."

There was a lot of rustling on Lana's end before her soft voice came through. "I promise you. She's in good hands. When she remembers things, we have a lot in common."

That made me smile.

"Good. And I'll send you the first payment tomorrow," I said much to my dismay.

"No rush, dear."

We talked for a few more minutes before I hung up, suddenly exhausted and wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed for the rest of the night. When I returned to the table, I halted seeing that only Noah sat there. He heard me walk up and handed me my to go box of leftover food.

"The bill's been taking care of," he said.

I didn't meet his gaze, still upset with him, as I snatched the box out of his hand.

"Don't worry, I didn't flirt with anyone to get free food."

Noah sighed then pushed himself out of his chair, immediately towering over me.

"Do you always have to talk with such an attitude," he gritted out through clenched teeth.

I stood toe to toe with him. "Only for you, baby."

The pet name was supposed to come out as playful, no meaning behind it. But with the way Noah's eyes flashed and a low noise vibrated from his throat, I knew it had the opposite effect on him. His tongue rolled over his bottom lip and I wanted nothing more that to taste them.

"Can I walk you back to the hotel?" Noah asked.

Unbelievable.

"Oh, now that no one is around you act like you give a shit?" I snarled.

He raised his hands. "I'm trying to be nice, Y/N."

"Here's a piece of advice," I snatched my purse from the table, "If you want to be nice to me, stop doing it when we're alone. It makes me think you're embarrassed to be seen with me."

Noah's face fell and began shaking his head. "It's not that."

"Oh, right? It was because of that night in Chicago where you had to carry me back to the hotel. News flash, Noah. I didn't fucking ask you too. So do me a favor, unless it deals with work, don't talk to me the rest of the time were on tour."

Not bothering to listen to him come up with another excuse, I turned on my heels and stomped back towards the hotel.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

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mx-pastelwriting · 8 days

Text

Redamancy

Lee Russell x GN! Reader

Summary: Standing up for Lee against his sisters.

Warnings: Slight Fluff, Established Relationship, LOTS of Confrontation, Yelling, Married to Lee, Slight Angst, Slight Hurt/Comfort, Heated Kiss, Mention of Lee being turned on

Wiping away the fuzz of the morning from your eyes while stomping down the steps, annoyance built from the banging on the front door. Having left Lee to sleep in on his day off, leaving you with an almost giddy feeling of getting to yell at your porch guest.

Taking notice of the two silhouettes through the frosty French door windows before swinging open the door, ready to unleash hell. "What!" you say angrily, not ready to yell just yet, looking at the two women who stood on the porch who looked more annoyed than you.

"Does Lee live here?" one said, but the other cut in, "Of course he does." The comment was not clearly meant for you, as she pushed past you.

"Lee, get your ass down here!" She yelled with the other following in, "What the fuck!?" you say, turning to watch them stare at the stairs. Watching as Lee flew down the steps, looking confused and scared while still putting on his shirt.

"Look at you, a fucking mess," she says, laughing, causing the other to do the same. "I'm sorry, I don't know they were coming." He says to you first, then turning to them, "Why are you here?" he asks, making them laugh harder.

"You're lucky we even came out here, Lee," one says before the other chimes in. "We're staying here for a few days; mom's watching the kids, so we need a break," she says, looking around in disgust. "Don't be rude, Lee. Introduce us," the other says, arms crossed.

Taking a deep breath with an extended arm to your back, he introduced the two who welcomed themselves into your shared home: "These are my sisters, Lacey and Lynn," pointing to the both of them. Lacey being the one who pushed past you earlier.

"Where's the guest rooms?" Lynn said walking to the stairs, pushing past Lee. "No," you said, causing all of their heads to snap in your direction. "You're not staying here," you say, laughing lightly at the ridiculousness, yet they turn to Lee. "Look at you—no balls, no calls, no emails, not even welcoming us in." Lacey starts seeing real fear fall on Lee's face, breaking your heart.

"ENOUGH!" You yell, making them turn to you once again, "Get the fuck out of our house!" seeing as fear lay on all of their faces. "I did not wake up in the crack of fucking dawn just to hear two strangers bitch and moan at my husband!" Continuing your unleashing of hell watching as the two step back from it.

Your rant didn't stop one of them from turning to Lee. "Nuh uh, don't even fucking look at him," you warn before yelling once more "OUT!" watching as they rush out of the house.

Keeping up with them, sadly having missed them with the door, you slammed it shut, then locked it, taking a few breaths to calm down before looking over to Lee, stunned by the events that just unfolded, his hazel eyes staring at you.

"Are you okay?" you ask softly while rushing over to him. "Yeah," he says breathy, "No wonder you never told me about-" cutting you off as his lips smashed against yours, quickly feeling your back hit the wall. Breaking the kiss, allowing you both to catch your breaths, "I fucking love you," he says, voice deep while pushing against you, feeling just how much he loves you for defending his mere existence.

A/N: I wrote, proofread, and edited this while having double vision. Hope you enjoyed!

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @danveration

#lee russell x reader #lee russell x you #lee russell #vice principals #lee russell fic

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gunilslaugh · 2 months

Text

Cassette Playlist

Goo Gunil

Summary: Your mom’s old cassette player somehow sent you back to the summer of 1990, where you meet a goofy, yet confident guy. Who might make it hard to leave. (non-idol au)

WC:11.6k

Warning:none

If this flops I'm never writing a long fic ever again lol

photo not mine credits to owner.

CRASH! SNAP! CRACK! Panic rages through your body as you stare at your mom’s old cassette player that is now in pieces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And why exactly have you decided to take a trip down memory lane?” you asked your mom. Letting out a heave as you set the heavy box down on your mom’s bed.

“I watched Jetsons: The Movie yesterday and it got me feeling nostalgic,” your mom answers you, taking off the lid to the box. “My old cassette player!” your mom called out excitedly as she pulled the old device from the box. “I used to use this all the time,” she tells you.

“I can tell. You used it so much it cracked.” You pointed to the crack that ran across the lid to insert a cassette.

“I don’t remember it having a crack actually.” Your mom scratched her head trying to remember if she was forgetting how the player got the crack.

“Maybe it happened while it was stored. We’re not always gentle with these boxes,” you chuckled.

“You’re right that could be what happened. We should be more gentle with these,” she states gesturing to the boxes.

“I wonder if it still works?” you wondered, taking the cassette player from your mom.

“It would definitely need batteries,” she says tapping the battery compartment. “We don’t have the type of batteries it takes right now. I’ll pick some up when I go to the store.”

“You still remember what batteries it takes?” You raised one of your eyebrows in shock. Your mom laughs.

“I told you I used to use it all the time. I’ll probably never forget what batteries it takes. I bet I could still use this in my sleep,” she affirms.

“I might have to test you on that,” you said playfully. Your mom smiles and shakes her head, looking into the box again. You join her in looking at the contents of the box. “Is this your year book?” you questioned pulling the book from the box.

“Yeah it’s from my junior year? I think.” You open the book, flipping through its pages. You stopped flipping through the pages when a picture of your mom with some guy caught your attention. Your mom had her arms affectionately wrapped around the guy’s middle. Her head tilted in the direction of the guy too.

“And who is this? One of your old boyfriends?” You nudge your mom with your elbow, showing her the picture.

“Oh um I think his name started with a G. I can’t remember right now, but no he wasn’t my boyfriend, not even a friend really. He was more like a nice acquaintance,” she informs.

“So this picture is just for show?” you said.

“Pretty much. That was the first day we met actually,” she tells you. You look at her with your head tilting to the side, as if asking her to explain more.

“He came up behind me and gave me a really tight back hug. I pushed him away harshly because I didn’t know who he was. Then he began to profusely apologize explaining that he mistook me for someone else,” your mom tells you the story.

“Oh my gosh that’s embarrassing. I would have died if I was him,” you laughed.

“Yeah I felt bad for him. Anyway people for the yearbook were coming around, so I pulled him into this side hug to make us even,” she further explained.

“How kind of you,” you remarked half sarcastically. To which your mom playfully shrugged in response. “Did he ever say who he mistook you for?” you questioned.

“You’re so nosy and no I never asked,” she tells you.

“Oh.” you look back down at the picture, wondering who this guy could have mistook your mom for.

After taking the little trip down memory lane you and your mom put the aged objects back inside the boxes, leaving out the cassette player since your mom was going to pick up batteries for it. Then you returned the boxes back to their places in the top shelf of the closet. Proceeding you returned to your bedroom to carry on with your day. You hopped onto your bed, opening your laptop to look for a show to watch.

Later in the day your mom returned home from running some errands: buying groceries and batteries. You helped your mom put the groceries away. Once all the groceries were placed in their spots your mom excitedly ran to her bedroom to grab her old cassette player.

“You’re like an excited kid who’s ready to play with their new toy,” you remark. “Well, I guess it’s an old toy in this case,” you added.

“I am excited,” she states matter-of-factly, opening up the batteries she recently bought. She then opens the battery compartment of the cassette player and carefully places the batteries inside, making sure they're facing the right direction. Succeeding hearing the satisfying click of the battery compartment closing your mom eagerly places one of the headphones into her ear then holds out the other one for you. You take it from her hand and place it into your ear. She looks at you to make sure you’re ready with her finger hovering over the play button. You nodded at her in confirmation and with that your mom pressed the button. Music began to play from the head phones filling the two of your ears. Your mom begins to excitedly jump up and down at her favorite nostalgic item still working. A smile makes its way to your face as you watch your mom’s happiness. While feeling impressed that the old device still works.

“This brings back memories,” your mom says reminiscently as she listens to the song.

“This song is nice,” you comment.

“You like it?” your mom asked. You nodded your head.

“You should keep this for a while then,” she suggested.

“Huh? Why?” Your eyebrows raised in confusion.

“It made me really happy as a teen. I would like to make you happy too. You’re a bit older than I was when I first got it, but that’s ok,” she explains.

“Ok sure, why not?” you agreed.

“Ooh I’ll go grab my other cassette so you can listen to them,” she takes the headphone from her ear before scurrying off to go grab the cassette. When she returns with the cassettes in hand she hands them over with a smile. You didn’t really know how much you would use the cassette player, but you figured you could at least listen to each cassette once. See what kind of music your mom used to listen to. You hit the stop of the cassette player and took off your headphone. You wrapped the headphones around the player as you walked to your room. You set the player on your bedside dresser planning to listen to it later.

Later in the evening you helped your mom make dinner. While waiting for your dad to get back from work. Your dad got home while you were dishing up dinner.

“Perfect timing,” your mom said, greeting him. You all sat at the table together. “I gave y/n my old cassette player today,” your mom tells.

“Oh really? That thing still works?” your dad asked surprised.

“Just like it used to,” your mom says.

“Except for the crack across the front,” you said.

“I told you I don’t remember it having a crack. It’s a mystery how it got there,” she states.

“Guess we’ll never know,” your dad shrugged. You all continued to eat, having the occasional side conversation. After dinner you did the dishes then headed to your room. You sat down on your bed. Your eyes fell over to your mom’s old cassette player. You reached over to your dresser and grabbed it, unwrapping the headphones around it. You put one headphone in each ear and hit play on the cassette. Music filled your ears and you rested against your headboard becoming fully immersed in the music. A couple songs played then you came across a song that you really liked. You wanted to listen to it again so you hit the rewind button, but nothing happened. You hit it again and once more nothing happened. You tried again only to be met with the same result. Growing a bit frustrated you smack the cassette player in hopes of getting it to work. You hit the rewind button another time and this time you hear the song begin to reverse. However your room began to look blurry. Like when you pass by something really fast. Then suddenly it all stopped and you were standing in a park? There were some kids running around playing on some playground equipment. Parents sitting on benches. A couple teenage boys were kicking a ball around out in the open grass. You walked around the park stopping under the shade of a tree, trying to gather your senses. Did you fall asleep while you were listening to the cassette? That’s when you notice that the cassette is in your hand and headphones are still in your ears. Much to your surprise the cassette player had been fixed. There was no longer a crack running across it. How was that possible? Was this all just a dream? Right then a ball lands by your feet.

“Sorry, could you kick it back please?” you hear. You looked up to see one of the teenage boys. You looked back down at the ball then back at the boy. You gave the ball a swift kick sending it back over. “Thanks!” the boy shouted. You nodded in response. Quickly you went back to trying to figure out what was going on. This didn’t really feel like it was a dream, but what else could it be? You look around at your surroundings again. This time you notice that all the clothes people are wearing look like they're from the 90s. Certainly this was all a really weird dream. You began to leave the park not really knowing where you were going. Just trying to find some answers. Hopefully some confirmation that this was all indeed one weird dream. As you were walking you happened to come across a discarded newspaper. You pick it up and flip it around. Your eyes widened as they saw the date: June 3, 1990. You couldn’t really be back in the 90s could you? No, that would be crazy and impossible. There was absolutely no way. Your heart began to pound in fear. If you were really back in the 1990, what were you supposed to do? How did you get here? More importantly, how were you going to get home? You started to rack your brain. That’s when it hit you, the cassette player. You were trying to get the rewind button to work when you were suddenly transported here. You quickly brought up the cassette player. If rewind brought you back to the past then fast forward should send you to the future as in back home. You couldn't hit the play and fast forward button soon enough. However much to your dismay it didn’t work. Well technically it did work. The song you were listening to began to speed up and fast forward, but you didn’t go anywhere. You weren’t back in your room. You were still standing about a block away from the park. You felt like crying, sinking down into the concrete pavement.

“Oh hey it’s you again,” you heard a familiar voice. You look up to see the teenage boy from the park again.

“Hey,” you replied.

“Why are you just sitting here?” he asked. Oh you know just having a crisis. No big deal.

“Just…thinking.” is the word you decide to go with.

“Shouldn’t you be headed home? It will be dark soon.” You didn’t even notice the setting sun.

“Oh um…” If you could you would and really wish that you could.

“Are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before?” he questioned.

“Yeah I just got here,” you tell him. The boy has no clue how literal your statement is.

“Are you lost then? I can walk you home if you want? Just tell me your address,” he offered.

“No, that’s ok.” I don’t have a home to go to.

“Did you run away from home?” he gasped.

“What? No! I didn't, it's not like-” you sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you,” you say.

“Try me?” he challenged.

“Fine. I time traveled from the future,” you told him seriously. The boy looked at you for a few seconds before bursting out into laughter.

“Oh, that’s a good one. Seriously, did you get in a fight with your parents or something?” He takes a seat beside you on the pavement.

“Told you wouldn’t believe me,” you said. “Just go home, don’t worry about me.” Sensing your upsetness he decides to give you the upper hand.

“Ok, let’s say I believe you. How did you get here and from where,when?” he questions.

“I’m from 2024. My mom’s old cassette player somehow brought me back in time. I know that sounds crazy because it is, but it’s true,” you explained.

“This cassette player?” He points to the cassette player in your hand.

“Yeah.” You held it up a bit.

“Can I see it?” He held his hands out.

“Knock yourself out.” You handed the player over to him. At first he only glances over it, yet he begins to squint at the clear plastic lid of the cassette player. He proceeded to hit the open button on the lid. “What are you-”

“1993.” you hear him murmur.

“What?” you asked.

“1993,” he repeated.

“What about it?”

“It’s 1990,” he reminded you. That’s when it clicked.

“It’s 1990 and this cassette is from 1993!” you said excitedly. “You believe me now right?” you questioned hopefully.

“Well it’s not, what did you say 2024?” You nodded. “But it is evidence that you are from the future, so…yeah I believe you,” he tells you.

“Oh thank you!” you tell him.

“So what are you gonna do?” he questioned handing you the cassette player back. Your excitement faded away as quickly as it came.

“I don’t know. I just wanna go home,” you answered. The boy looks at you sympathetically. He has no idea how you must feel right now, but it’s clear that you're very stressed about your situation.

“How about you come stay with me. I could help you figure out how to get home,” he suggested.

“Thanks, but would your parents be ok with you bringing some random girl home?” you ask.

“I’ll tell them that you’re a friend who needs a place to stay for a while,” he tells you.

“What if they ask about my parents? I mean they…haven’t even met yet. They’re both teenagers right now.” The gravity of your situation hits you even more.

“We can figure that out later. Sitting on a sidewalk isn’t going to solve anything though, so will you come?” he questioned. You thought for a moment. It’s not like you had a better option.

“You’re sure it’s ok for me to stay with you?” you double checked.

“Absolutely we have a guest room that you can stay in,” he tells you.

“Ok thanks uh… you’re?” Something hits you while you’re looking at the guy, whom you didn’t know the name of. He looked just like the guy from the yearbook photo with your mom. “Something with a G” you mouthed recalling your mom’s words.

“Oh that’s right we kinda skipped over introductions. I’m Gunil,” he introduced himself, sticking out his hand.

“Gunil, with a G,” you didn’t mean to say it outloud.

“Yep with a G. I don’t think it would quite work with a J,” he joked lightheartedly.

“I’m y/n,” you introduced yourself and finally shook his outstretched hand. That had been waiting an awkwardly long time.

“Let’s go y/n.” He stands up from the pavement, dusting off his pants. Then he sticks out his hand to help you up. You take his hand standing up. You still had no clue how you were going to get home, but at least you had someone who was willing to help.

The walk to Gunil’s house didn’t take too long. He lived relatively close to the park.

“This is it,” Gunil announced when you reached the bottom of his driveway. You felt your nerves begin to bubble up again.

“Are you sure this is ok? I can figure something else out,” you say feeling uneasy.

“Like what? Sleeping on a park bench? I assure you it's fine. Now come on.” Gunil starts to walk up his driveway. You follow behind him, nervously fiddling with your hands. “Mom I’m back and-”

“You have a guest,” his mom finished his sentence. After seeing you standing behind him in the doorway.

“This is my friend y/n and they need a place to stay for a bit,” Gunil said sheepishly.

“Oh, of course you friends are always welcome here, you know that,” his mom smiled.

“Thank you,” you thanked her.

“Sure thing sweetie, but Gunil, is there any reason why we haven’t met her before?” his mom asks.

“Have you been hiding her from us?” His dad now joined the conversation with a teasing tone.

“What? No I haven’t it-” Gunil began to sputter, feeling flustered by his dad’s teasing.

“It’s because I only moved here recently,” you saved.

“Oh I see. I hope you like it here, but if you’re going to stay with us why don’t you have a bag? Certainly you need more than just a cassette player.” Gunil’s mom looked around for your belongings.

“I wanted to get permission first. I can go pack my stuff tomorrow,” you told her. You felt your heart pounding.

“That’s right. I tried to tell her that you would understand, but she didn’t want to intrude,” Gunil backed you up.

“You’re just a sweet little thing aren’t you? Come on, dinner is ready. I’m sure you both are hungry.” She guides both you and Gunil to the kitchen table. You felt awkward as you sat next to Gunil at the table.

“So y/n where did you move from?” Gunil’s dad questioned you, trying to create some small talk.

You swear you could feel Gunil tense up beside you.

“Michigan.” Why was that the first place that popped into your head?

“Did you like it there?” he followed up.

“The lakes were really pretty,” you said the one thing you knew about Michigan.

“Oh yes! I’ve seen pictures of Lake Michigan I would love to see it in person one day,” Gunil’s mom chimed in.

“Dinner is really good Mrs. Goo. Thank you,” you state, trying to change the topic.

“I’m already letting you stay here. There is no need to butter me up.”

“I’m not,” you pronounced, shaking your head.

“I like her,” Gunil’s mom says and shoots Gunil a look. To which Gunil quickly shakes his head at his mother. A silent plea to ask her to stop. His mother laughs lightly at him. Thankfully you aren’t asked anymore questions throughout the rest of dinner.

After dinner Gunil showed you the guest room. His mom came into the room holding some pajamas.

“They might not fit perfectly, but they should be ok for the night.” She smiled at you as she handed them over.

“Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to,” you said, taking them from her.

“Don’t be silly. You’re our guest. You should be comfortable,” she insisted.

“Well thanks again,” you say. Gunil’s mom then steps out of the room, leaving just you and Gunil.

“My room is right next door”– Gunil pointed towards his room– “And the bathroom is right across the hall. Let me know if you need anything,” he told you.

“Mmh, thank you” you nod your head.

“No problem.” Gunil turned around and left the room. You looked at the cassette player sitting on the bed. You walked over to the bed, setting down the pajamas that were in your hand to pick up the cassette player.

“Can’t you just take me home?” you said to the old or you guess it’s not so old right now cassette player. “Please,” you begged, placing a headphone in your ear. You placed in the other one and hit play. Music filled your ears. You pressed the fast forward button, the song played faster. You sighed. Your finger now hovers over the rewind button. What if you hit it and it sends you even farther back in the past? However, on the other hand, what if it sent you home? You took a breath, closed your eyes and hit the rewind button. The song began to rewind. You carefully popped one eye open. Nothing happened, you were still in the guest room. Feeling defeated, you pulled the headphones out of your ears. You changed into the pajamas Gunil’s mom had given you. She was right they weren’t a perfect fit, but they would do.

Later in the night Gunil’s mom stopped by your door to wish you goodnight. Before you could respond to her you hear Gunil yelling you a goodnight as well through the thin walls. You yelled him a goodnight back which made his mom laugh. Then you wished her a goodnight as well. You made yourself comfortable underneath the covers. Closing your eyes and waiting for sleep to take you away and hopefully back home somehow.

Upon waking up in the morning it takes you a second to remember where you are. Once you see your mom’s cassette player sitting on the edge of the bed you remember. You were still stuck in 1990. You sat up on the bed not quite knowing what to do. It would be awkward if you just walked out of the room as you are right now right? What if Gunil wasn’t up yet then you would be stuck with his parents. That didn’t seem all that ideal. Your bladder apparently had an answer for you though. The bathroom was right across the hall from you. You would just have to do a quick in and out. You opted for getting dressed first, changing back into the clothes you were wearing yesterday. You carefully opened the door as silently as possible, peeking your head out. When you didn’t see anyone you quickly beelined into the bathroom. You were ready to beeline back to your room however right when you opened the bathroom door someone called you.

“Oh y/n you’re up. How’d you sleep?” Gunil’s mom asked you. You awkwardly stepped into the hallway.

“I slept good, thanks. You?” you returned.

“I slept good too. Gunil is still sleeping, but I can wake him up if you want,” she offered.

“That’s ok he can keep sleeping,” you told her. You kinda regretted it though. Maybe it would be better to just wake him up.

“You can come out to the living room. I’m almost done making breakfast,” she tells you. You awkwardly followed her out to the living room. Where you now see Gunil’s dad sitting in the chair. He bid you a good morning as you did to him in return. You tentatively took a seat on the couch.

“Y/n you never told us why you’re staying with us,” he dad said. You feel your heartbeat pick up as you took a moment to think.

“...Oh my parents are out of town and I don’t feel comfortable staying in our new house by myself yet,” you explained.

“What’d they go out of town for?” He was probably just trying to make conversation, but you really wish he wasn’t.

“Work.” That sounded reasonable enough, you thought.

“What do they do for work?” It was too early for your brain to make up these fake answers.

“They work for a cassette manufacturer.” Gunil answered for you emerging from the hallway. He came and took a seat next to you on the couch. He was still wearing his pajamas and his hair was a bit messy. He looked oddly cute.

“Gunil you’re up just in time. Breakfast is ready,” his mom informed, coming into the living room.

You guys all headed to the kitchen, sitting down and eating the breakfast that Gunil’s mom had made.

“Thanks for breakfast mom. I’m gonna go change then I’ll take y/n to go pack her things,” Gunil stated. Just like that Gunil whisked away to his room. You returned to the guest room to grab the cassette player. You had barely grabbed the cassette player when Gunil appeared in the doorway.

“You ready?” he checked.

“That was fast,” you remarked, taking in his tidied up appearance. His hair was no longer messy and he swapped his pajamas for a black t-shirt and jeans.

“I didn’t want you to wait,” he told you.

“Thanks, and yeah I’m ready,” you answered him. The two of you walked out of Gunil’s house. “Gunil how are we gonna pack my things when I have no things to pack?” you questioned once you two reached the end of his driveway. Gunil reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“We have some shopping to do.” He waved his wallet around.

“Gunil no,” you say, footsteps coming to a stop. Gunil lets out a sigh. His footsteps coming to a stop as well.

“Do you have a better idea? You can’t exactly wear the same clothes everyday,” he pointed out.

“I know that, but I feel bad having you spend money on me,” you explained. Gunil takes a couple steps closer to you.

“Don’t feel bad. I want to. I’ve been wanting to go shopping anyway, so this is the perfect opportunity,” he tells you.

“Still, won’t it be too much-”

“Shush, your only concern should be figuring out how to get back home. Let me take care of the rest,” he silenced you. He swings one of his arms around your shoulder prompting you to start walking again. When you try to refute again he simply shushes you more.

“Can I ask where we’re going then?” you questioned. You turned your head to look at Gunil, who still had his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“The mall. It’ll have everything we need,” Gunil answered casually.

“I haven’t been to the mall in ages,” you say.

“Really? Are malls not that popular in the future?” Gunil asked with slightly widened eyes.

“I don’t think they're as popular as they used to be, but plenty of people still go to them,” you answered. Gunil nods at your answer. “How far is the mall?” you asked.

“About a twenty minute walk,” Gunil answered.

“Wanna listen to music?” You held up the cassette player.

“Are you sure it won’t send us to the past?” Gunil jokes. You scoffed.

“Honestly no I can’t be sure, but it should be fine,” you say.

“I’ll risk it.” Gunil reaches to take one of the headphones and puts it in his ear. You put the other one in your ear. You hit play on the cassette player, letting the music fill either of yours and Gunil’s ears. To any onlookers you and Gunil probably look like a couple. With Gunil’s arm that he is yet to remove from around your shoulders and now sharing headphones on top of it. You felt oddly comfortable though. This is probably the most relaxed you felt since you had arrived in 1990.

Upon arriving at the mall both you and Gunil remove the headphones from your ears. Gunil’s arm finally leaves your shoulders. It’s not until he removed his arm that you realized it was there the entire time. Gunil finds that his arm now feels empty that it’s not wrapped around you.

“Where to first?” you questioned as the two of you walked inside the entrance of the mall.

“I was thinking we should probably get you a bag first, then we can go get you some clothes,” he tells you.

“Sounds good,” you agreed. Gunil led you to a shop that had a collection of bags that you could choose from. You ended up picking a blue duffle bag that had teal carrying straps. Next, Gunil takes you to a clothing store. He asked you about your preferences for what types of clothes you like to wear then proceeded to help you pick out some outfits.

“How about this one?” Gunil asked, holding up a shirt in a color you specifically told him you disliked. You make a very unimpressed face at him.

“Gunil, I specifically told you I don’t like that color,” you told him.

“Why? I think it suits you. You look pretty.” He steps closer to you, holding the shirt up to your frame. You feel a warmth trying to make its way to your cheeks. You shook it off.

“Gunil, no.” You pushed the shirt away from your frame.

“Come on please. I’m buying anyway,” he pointed. He kinda had you there. He was paying for all your things, so you felt like the least you could do is get something that he liked. Even if it wasn’t something you would pick for yourself.

“Fine, but don’t keep using that against me.” You pointed a finger at him. Gunil raised his hands in a playful surrender.

“Ok, I won’t,” he said, happily tossing the shirt with the other clothes you were getting.

Three shops later you convinced Gunil that you really didn’t need anymore stuff. He seemed reluctant, but agreed with you. He insisted that you two get some food before you head back to his place though. You couldn’t deny that all the shopping didn’t work up your appetite, so you and Gunil made your way over to the food court. The two of you got food from a place that Gunil recommended. After getting your food you walked over to the seating area.

“So how are you liking the 90s mall experience?” Gunil questioned making you laugh.

“I mean, I don't think it's that different from a modern day mall, but it’s nice,” you say.

“Yo Gunil! You didn’t tell us you were coming here today. Oh who’s this?” One of, who are assuming, is Gunil’s friends asked.

“This is y/n. They’re new around here,” Gunil introduced.

“She looks kinda familiar,” one of the notes.

“I was thinking the same thing,” another one says.

“The park!” One exclaimed pointing at you. “She’s the one who kicked the ball back to us.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“You mean they’re the one-”

“What are you guys doing here?” Gunil cut his friend off.

“We were gonna see if they have any new music at the music shop,” One answered.

“Well then don’t let us stop you guys,” Gunil motioned for them to get going.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! We haven’t introduced ourselves yet,” one says. “I’m Jooyeon,” he introduced himself.

“I’m Jiseok,” another one said.

“Seungmin.” The boy gave you a half wave.

“Jungsu,” he smiled.

“I’m Hyeongjun,” the last one says shyly.

“Nice to meet you guys,” you state.

“You like to listen to music?” Jiseok pointed to your cassette player. You nodded.

“Yeah you could say that,” you answered.

“Do you want to come to the music shop with us then?” Jiseok offered.

“Maybe some other time. We should be heading back now,” Gunil interjected, standing up.

“Oh don’t be silly Gunil. It’s not even late afternoon yet. Let me see what you listen to, the music store probably has it.” Jiseok reaches for the cassette player you had sitting on the table. Wasting no time in opening it and taking a look at the cassette before you could say anything. “You listen to them too! I-why don’t I recognize any of these songs?” Jiseok starts to look at the cassette closer.

“Oh that’s be-”

“1993!” Jiseok’s eyes widened. “H-how do you have a cassette from 1993?” Jiseok looked at you in disbelief. You looked at Gunil in a panic. He looked back at you just as panicked. “What’s with those looks? What’s going on?” Jiseok interrogated.

“Well, you see, I may or may not be from 34 years in the future,” you said. Jiseok’s face deadpans for a moment before he bursts out laughing.

“That’s a good one. I didn’t think you’d be so funny, but seriously what is this a fake or something?” He waved the cassette in his hand.

“Listen to it,” Gunil tells him.

“What?” Jiseok responded.

“Listen to it,” he gestured for Jiseok to put the cassette back in the player. Jiseok looked skeptical, but he did as he was told. His eyes widened again as he listened to the song he’s never heard before, but is unmistakably from the artist.

“How is this possible?” Jiseok asked, removing the headphones from his ears. You reach over taking the cassette player back from him.

“That’s what I want to know,” you sighed.

“Wait a second, are you actually saying that she’s from the future?” Seungmin speaks up.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but yeah,” Gunil states.

“Hard to believe? It’s completely crazy!” Seungmin declares.

“You don’t have to believe it if you don’t want to, but Gunil and I should really get going now,” you say. Gunil gathers the bags of your recently bought items and makes his way to your side.

“Hold on you can’t just leave after saying you're from the future,” Jooyeon followed after you and Gunil.

“Ok then you can follow us, but I told my mom we're gonna go pick up y/n’s things. She’ll start to worry if we’re gone for too much longer,” Gunil tells. Like a group of ducklings Gunil’s friends started to follow after you two.

“We should probably put the stuff into the duffle bag,” you tell Gunil.

“You’re right. Let’s stop for a second.” Gunil stepped aside and the two of you began to pull your recently bought items and put them into the duffle bag.

“I take it your parents don’t know that she’s from the future?” Jungsu inferred.

“No, she’s a friend, who moved here recently and is staying with us while her parents are away,” Gunil informed.

“Do you know where your parents are?” Jooyeon randomly asked. You stopped loading clothes into the duffle bag to think.

“Umm…if it’s 1990 then,” you pause to do some mental math. “My mom would be sixteen, so she’d be living with my grandparents. I know she goes to the same high school as you guys do,” you say.

“How do you know that?” Gunil asked as he finished putting the last piece of clothing into the duffle bag and zipped it up.

“I saw a picture of you in her old yearbook,” you tell him. It’s a bit ironic that you called the yearbook old considering that it hasn’t been made yet. You go to take the duffle bag from him, but he ignores you and swings it over his own shoulder.

“Oh, that’s how you knew my name started with a G,”’ Gunil commented as he began walking in the direction of his house.

“Does the name Lee Jooyeon mean anything in the future?” Jooyeon quickly followed behind you both.

“No, sorry,” you shook your head.

“What about Kwak Jiseok?” Jiseok cut in, appearing beside Jooyeon. Again you shook your head.

“How about Seungmin then? Oh Seungmin,” Jooyeon tried.

“Oh Seungmin?” you repeated a bit louder. You did recognize that name.

“Don’t tell us he’s the one who got famous?” Jiseok said. You laughed. While Seungmin let out an offended “Hey!”

“No, he’s not famous. I just know the name because my dad hated him,” you explained.

“Why would your dad hate me?” Seungmin asked with a bit of hurt in his eyes.

“I thought you didn’t believe her,” Hyeongjun commented.

“I-I don’t, not entirely, but if someone hates me,” Seungmin stuttered.

“Because you always beat him at track. My dad was the top track athlete at his school, but whenever it came to school competitions he could never beat Seungmin. He always came in second,” you explained.

“So you’re saying your dad is d/n?” he said your father’s name.

“Yeah, that’s him,” you confirmed.

“No way,” Seungmin states in denial.

“What? You don’t see the resemblance?” You turned to face Seungmin. Seungmin leaned closer to inspect your face. You slightly turned your head from side to side to give him a better look at your features. Suddenly Gunil reaches for your wrist pulling you up beside him.

“It doesn’t matter if he believes you or not. Let’s hurry up and get home,” he quickly said. You can hear the rest of the boys joking about something behind you.

“Mom, we're back!” Gunil shouted upon entering his house.

“That took a bit longer than I- oh the boys are with you,” his mom says.

“Yeah we ran into them along the way,” Gunil tells.

“Well make yourselves at home,” his mom smiles and steps aside. You all make your way to Gunil’s room, making a pit stop by the guest room you were staying in to set your bag down.

Jooyeon, Jiseok and Hyeongjun made themselves comfortable on Gunil’s bed. Jungsu sat at a desk. Seungmin sat on top of the desk. You stood there awkwardly until Gunil grabbed some pillows from his bed for you two to sit on.

“So if you’re from the future how did you get here?” Jooyeon was quick to ask you more questions.

“This,” you held up your mom’s cassette player.

“And you let me listen to it!” Jiseok yelled.

“It happened when she hit the rewind button, not just from listening to it,” Gunil defended.

“Still,” Jiseok grumbled.

“Since you’re still here I’m guessing pressing fast forward doesn’t send you back?” Jungsu presumed.

“Nope,” you shook your head.

“How are you gonna get home then?” Jooyeon questioned.

“That’s what I want to know,” you sighed.

“We’ll figure it out,” Gunil told you comfortingly.

“Maybe it’s cause the cassette is from 1993,” Jiseok spoke.

“Huh?” you questioned, not understanding what he meant.

“The cassette is from 1993, so it technically doesn’t exist here yet. Maybe that’s why you can’t go home,” he elaborated.

“Are you saying I’m gonna be stuck here for three years!” you panicked.

“No,no, no. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Gunil tried to console you, placing his hands on your knee. Meanwhile Jungsu was scolding Jiseok for what he said.

“What he said kinda makes sense though,” you stated worriedly.

“No, what the others said is right. I’m an idiot, I don't know what I’m talking about.” Jiseok tried to fix the panic he caused you. Seungmin still doesn’t really believe that you’re from the future, but seeing the way you’re freaking out right now makes him want to. He definitely feels bad for you, cause even if you weren’t from the future your situation right now surely isn’t ideal. Gunil is still trying to ease your nerves.

“How about we go to the arcade?” Hyeongjun suggests amidst the bit of chaos happening.

“I’m not sure now is really-” Jungsu started.

“I’ve never been to an arcade,” you stated.

“You’ve never been to the arcade? Do they not exist in the future?” Jooyeon asked, astonished.

“They exist. I’ve just never been,” you informed.

“Oh, well we totally have to go then,” he said, hopping up from Gunil’s bed.

“Right now?” Seungmin questioned.

“Well we don’t know when y/n will return home, so if we want to do something with them we should do it now,” Jooyeon reasoned.

With that you found yourselves walking to the nearest arcade. Jooyeon and Jiseok practically dragged you because they were excited to play games with you. While Gunil was trying to tell them to slow down, not wanting you to accidentally get hurt.

The arcade was really fun. It managed to take your mind off your current situation for a while. Jooyeon and Jiseok were excited to teach you how to play the games and maybe tease you when you weren’t so good at one. Hyeongjun was much more chill and helpful when it came to games you had no idea how to play. Gunil stared at you admiringly. He felt like he could relax a bit seeing you genuinely smile and have fun.

“Are you gonna confess to them before they go back home or are you gonna hide your feelings forever?” Jungsu asked, resting an arm on Gunil’s shoulder.

“They want to go home. I shouldn’t complicate their situation any more,” Gunil said.

“You’re allowed to be a little selfish you know?” Jungsu voices.

“Even if I did confess it’s not like we can exactly be together. Plus I’m sure being in a relationship is the last thing on her mind,” Gunil notes.

“It’s a given that you can’t stay together, but do you really want to give up on being with her, even if it’s for a short amount of time?” Jungsu put to question.

Gunil saw you at the park on the day you first arrived. He thought that you were cute, so he may have accidentally sent the ball he and his friends were playing with your way. He was looking for an excuse to talk to you. When he saw you sitting on the sidewalk on his way home he couldn’t up the god given opportunity to talk to you again. Upon finding out about your situation it was clear that you were very stressed, but Gunil couldn’t help but feel a teensy bit glad. He was able to spend more time with you because of it. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want that. Jungsu told him that he was allowed to be selfish, but he was already being selfish. He didn’t simply offer to help you out of the goodness of his heart. No, it was because he liked you. He was already being selfish with his actions, so he didn’t know how far he should go with selfishness. Would it be too selfish to tell you how he felt about you?

Gunil is interrupted from his internal struggle when he sees you excitedly jumping up and down at a claw machine, reaching down to claim your stuffed prize.

“Gunil look!” You hurried over to him to show him the turtle you just won. Gunil falls for you even more, finding you adorable.

“It’s cute,” he smiles at you. He means both you and the turtle.

After your time spent at the arcade you part ways with Gunil’s friends. Gunil enjoys it being just you and him again. He watches you as you walk looking down at the stuffed turtle you just won.

“What should I name it?” you asked Gunil for his opinion.

“Umm?” Gunil thought.

A loud honk interrupts his thinking. He looks at the sound of the honk seeing a truck fastly approaching you two as you're midway across the crosswalk. Gunil quickly pulls you out of the way of the vehicle. The truck goes wheezing past you two.

CRASH! SNAP! CRACK! Panic rages through your body as you stare at your mom’s old cassette player that is now in pieces. It was haphazardly shoved in your pocket and the force of Gunil suddenly pulling you must’ve somehow made it pop out of your pocket.

“Are you ok?” Gunil looks you over still not noticing what had just happened.

“I’m. I’m. Uh, the- how am I?” Your non-coherently sputter out, pointing at the cassette player.

“What?” Gunil flows the direction of your finger and sees the broken cassette player. Gunil quickly goes to gather the broken pieces.

“It’s gonna be ok?” He tried to calm you.

“How is it going to be ok? That- that’s my only way home and it’s-” you heaved.

“Look at me,” Gunil says calmly. Your eyes hesitantly tear away from the broken pieces in his hands to look at his face.

“It’ll be ok. There’s a repair shop we can take it too. They’ll fix it,” he tells you.

“But what if-”

“They’ll fix it,” he told you firmly.

“Ok,” you let out a shaky breath.

Gunil and you arrived at the repair shop. You’re shaking with nerves. Fearing for the worst. That your mom’s cassette player will be unfixable and you’ll be stuck here forever.

“I think it would be easier to buy a new cassette player,” the worker of the shop informed. It made your heart sink to your stomach.

“It was a gift from her mom. You can surely fix it right?” Gunil told the worker in a passive aggressive voice.

“Look man-” Gunil leaned whisper something to the guy. “Ok, I’ll see what I can do. Come back in a week to pick it up,” the worker says.

“Great, thank you,” Gunil said to the worker.

“Come on.” Gunil wrapped his arm around your shoulder leading you out of the store.

“Can he really fix it?” you asked, doubtfully.

“He’ll fix it,” Gunil said confidently. This was going to be the longest week of your life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It indeedly was the longest week of your life. Gunil tried his very best to keep you distracted. He wanted to show you the joy of living in the 90s. He took out around town, showing you his favorite spots. He invited you out with his friends (who have started to grow close with you.) You could never completely shake the anxious feeling in your stomach though. Yes, you were having fun thanks to Gunil and his friends, but having fun didn’t make your problem go away. You were simply making the best out of a bad situation.

Currently you are sitting on the couch with Gunil, a movie playing on the t.v. It’s the night before you go pick up the cassette player. You bounced your leg anxiously as the fear of the worst began to set back in.

“Are you not interested in this movie?” Gunil asked you. It was an indirect way of asking if you were ok.

“I don’t think I’ll be interested in any movie. I’m too nervous. What if it couldn’t be fixed?” you told Gunil your worries.

“I told you it’ll be fixed.” Gunil scooted closer to you on the couch.

“You can’t know that for sure. What if I’m stuck here forever?” your voice raised slightly. Not because you were mad at Gunil, but because you were terrified of never being able to get home.

“Then I’ll take care of you forever,” Gunil answered. He tenderly took your hands in his.

“You can’t do that Gunil. You’ve already done so much, too much. I can’t keep burdening you, and your parents,” you argued.

“You aren't a burden y/n. I took you here because I want to look after you,” he tells you. His thumbs run over your knuckles.

“Realistically, how long can you do that? Your parents are bound to ask where my parents really are soon. What are we supposed to tell them? That I actually ran away from home? That my parents abandoned me? That I’m from the future?” you ranted.

“I get that you're really scared and stressed right now, but can you please just trust me. Let me take care of you. We don’t know if the cassette player is fixed or not right now. Let’s at least see how it goes tomorrow,” Gunil proposed.

“What if it couldn’t be fixed?” you asked again.

“Then you can have a mental breakdown, but I’ll take care of you during that too.” His thumbs stop rumbling your knuckles, but his grip remains grounding on your hands.

“Why do you care so much?” you questioned.

“Because I like you,” Gunil confessed. Your hands go slack in his due to shock.

“What do you mean?” you asked not being able to understand.

“I like you,” he repeated. “That ball didn’t accidentally land at your feet when we were in the park. I purposely kicked it over to you cause I wanted your attention. I thought you were pretty and wanted to talk to you,” he revealed.

“Then all this time you’ve…” You trailed off, not knowing exactly what you wanted to say.

“I know that you don’t like the situation you're in right now and that romance is one of the last things that would be on your mind. Which is why I wasn’t sure if I should tell you how I feel, but I’ve really enjoyed being with you this entire time. It’s selfish cause I know how stressed and scared you are. I really want to be by your side as long as I can,” he continued on.

“I feel most relaxed when you’re with me,” you tell him truthfully. “You’re right romance isn’t exactly on my to do list, but I like being with you too,” you say. A smile tugged at your lips. You moved your previously slack hand to hold Gunil’s hand back. Your words weren’t exactly a confession, but for Gunil they were more than enough. You liked being with him. That alone made him feel over the moon.

Gunil moved to lean against the back of the couch, pulling you along with him. His hands never left yours. Both of your eyes wandered back to the t.v that neither of you were paying attention to. Gunil being too wrapped up in the feeling of you leaning against him and the fact that you liked being beside him, just as he liked being beside you. Your nerves about finding out if your way home was fixed or not definitely keep you distracted. However you also found that the way Gunil was absentmindedly playing with your fingers and the calming warmth that radiated off of him proved to be an equally good distraction.

Sometime during you and Gunil basking in each other's presence the two of you drifted off to sleep. Your head falling on Gunil’s shoulder and his head resting on yours. Gunil’s hands placed protectively over yours from where they fell in the small space between your two bodies on the couch.

“He really tired to convince us that she’s just a friend,” Gunil’s mom said when her and Gunil’s dad returned home from their date night to find you and Gunil cuddled up on the couch.

“The hearts in his eyes were never fooling us dear,” his dad stated.

“They look so cute. I need to take a photo.” Gunil’s mom quickly and excitedly rushed off to grab the camera. She snapped a couple photos of you and Gunil. Then Gunil’s dad ushered her away from your sleeping forms, not wanting to wake the two of you and ruin the moment.

Your eyes cracked open in the morning, taking in the lighter room. You notice that the t.v has been turned off. Next you realize that your head is resting on Gunil’s shoulder and you can feel the weight of his head resting against yours. You slowly tried to remove your hands out from under Gunil’s. When they were almost free Gunil’s hands suddenly grasped onto your hands, bringing them back to his hold.

“Gunil,” you softly called out his name. You carefully lifted your head up from Gunil’s shoulder, which resulted in Gunil’s head coming down onto your shoulder.

“Gunil,” you tried again. “Gunil.” You shook your shoulder. Gunil started to stir awake.

“Mmh,” he mumbled, opening his eyes.

“Good morning,” you told him. Gunil now realizes the position that the two of you are in and sits up straight. Then he realizes that his hands are holding yours. A shade of pink dusts his cheeks.

“Good morning,” he said. “Do you want some breakfast? We have cereal or I could make some eggs,” he offered standing up from the couch.

“Cereal’s fine,” you say, standing up from the couch too. Gunil and you walk over to the kitchen and make your bowls of cereal. He pulls your chair out for you before you sit down.

“Thanks,” you smiled. He nodded then pulled out the chair beside you to sit down in.

“Look who’s up,” Gunil’s mom said as she entered the kitchen. You and Gunil each wished her a good morning. “Did you two sleep well?” she asked. You and Gunil share a glance. You both know she must’ve seen you two on the couch.

“Yeah, I slept well,” Gunil answered.

“Me too,” you followed. Your answer makes Gunil smile and Gunil’s mom certainly doesn’t miss it.

“That’s good. I know sleeping on the couch isn’t always the most comfortable, but you two looked so cute I didn’t want to disturb you guys,” she says. Both yours and Gunil’s faces flared red at her comment.

“Should we go pick up your cassette player now?” Gunil asked, changing the topic.

“Yes, we should,” you eagerly nodded. The two of you hurried up eating your cereal then rushed out of the kitchen. Gunil’s mom could only smile, finding you two adorable.

Once you and Gunil got ready you headed to the repair shop. The closer you got to the shop the more nervous you got. Gunil easily noticed how nervous you were and slipped his hand into your, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I got you,” he tells you.

The two of you arrive at the shop. You always thought the saying of feeling your heart in your throat was weird, but now you understand it cause it really did feel like your heart was in your throat.

“We’re here to pick up the cassette player,” Gunil told the worker.

“I know, I remember you,” the worker said, giving Gunil a look. The worker reaches under the counter and pulls out your mom’s cassette player. It looks like it’s fixed…accept for a crack that runs across the lid. “I couldn’t get rid of this crack, but it works,” the worker said.

“The crack doesn't matter. Thank you for fixing it,” you told the worker, taking the cassette player in your hands.

“Just doing my job,” he replied. Then he turns to Gunil, so that he can pay.

“Sorry about the crack,” Gunil says as you two exited the store.

“It’s ok. It answered a question actually,” you disclosed.

“What question?” Gunil asked.

“Back in the future, my mom and I were going through boxes of her old things. This cassette player was in one of the boxes and it had this exact crack, but my mom had no clue how it got there. She never remembered it having a crack,” you told.

“Well mystery solved then,” Gunil said.

“Yeah, mystery solved.” You unwrapped the headphones from around the cassette player and handed one to Gunil. He gladly took it and placed it in his ear. He took this time to wrap his arm around your shoulder, just like the first time you two listened to the cassette together.

Soon enough you arrived back at Gunil’s house to discover it empty, meaning his parents went out somewhere. The pair of you made yourselves comfortable on the couch.

“So what exactly happened when the cassette player brought you to the past,” Gunil questioned.

“I told you I hit rewind,” you chuckled.

“I know that, but did you hit any other button first or?” he clarified. You took a moment to think back.

“I smacked it,” you remembered. “When I first hit rewind it didn’t work, so I smacked it thinking it might get it to work,” you explained.

“Have you tried smacking it again?” he asked.

“No, but it just got fixed. I’m scared to smack it now,” you said.

“I’m not saying to smack it with all you got, but it’s worth a shot,” he stated. You lift your hand to give the cassette player a smack then paused.

“Are you that scared? Should I do it for you?” he offered.

“It’s not that.” You lowered your hand.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s funny. Most of the time I’ve been here, I’ve been wanting to go home, but right now it feels hard to leave,” you say.

“Well you know I’m not going to tell you to go,” Gunil said lightheartedly. “There’s no guarantee that smacking it would work either,” he notes.

“I know, but if it does. I think I’d rather try it later.”

“You wanna go get ice cream?” he suggested.

“Sounds good,” you agree.

You spent the rest of the day out with Gunil. Having your ice cream then going to walk around the mall. After the mall you walk aimlessly around the town.

“Well look who it is?” A voice spoke behind you two. Both you and Gunil turn your heads to see Jooyeon standing there with Jiseok. The pair of them had teasing smiles on their faces.

“Yeah look who it is,” Gunil said.

“It’s fixed,” Jiseok pointed to the cassette player in your hands.

“Yep.”

“Any ideas on how to get home?” he asked.

“We have an idea, but we don't know if it will work,” you said.

“How come you haven’t tried it yet?” Jooyeon questioned.

“Do you want me to leave without saying goodbye?” you said, quasi offended.

“Of course not. I’d be very sad if you just disappeared. You just always seem like you’re eager to go home, so I’d thought you’d jump at any chance,” he responded.

“I thought so too, but it’s harder to leave than I expected,” you say looking at Gunil.

“Aww have you grown attached to us! We’ve gotten attached to you too,” Jooyeon and Jiseok pull you into a sandwiched hug.

“You seriously can’t leave without saying goodbye ok?” Jiseok states pulling away.

“But there’s no way to tell when I’ll be leaving,” you brought up.��

“We should have a goodbye party!” Jooyeon shouted. Jiseok immediately agreed.

“If we have a goodbye party and I don’t go home wouldn’t it be awkward?” You asked.

“Maybe a little, but with a goodbye party we won’t have to worry about not getting to say goodbye,” Jooyeon answered.

That’s how you found yourself at the very park, where you first arrived in the 90s. Surrounded by Gunil's friends, who are also your friends now too. Pizza boxes litter the ground along with soda cans.

“I still think this party is kinda stupid,” Seungmin said while taking a sip of soda.

“So if y/n just disappears and goes back home one day you’re not going to miss them and wish that you could’ve said goodbye?” Jungsu interrogated.

“Whether you believe she is from the future or not. She is still leaving one day no matter what,” Hyeongjun added.

“But we don’t know when that is, so having this party when we could still see them tomorrow seems kinda silly,” Seungmin defended.

“Exactly. We don’t know when. She could leave tonight, tomorrow, next week. This way we don’t miss saying goodbye,” Jooyeon said.

Goodbye parties typically are kinda sad, but you didn’t think this one would feel as sad as it did. You hadn’t really been in the 1990 all that long, yet you’ve made great friends, met a guy who makes your heart flutter and makes it hard to say goodbye. The boys taking the turns saying goodbye to you at the end of the party had all your eyes turning glossy.

“If I find you in the future then you’ll have to believe me then right?” you asked Seungmin.

“Yes, if you find me in the future. Looking as you do now. I’ll have no choice, but to believe you.”

“Then goodbye till then,” you told him.

“Goodbye y/n.” The party ended with a group hug and maybe some spilled tears that no one would admit too.

“Should I try smacking it?” you asked Gunil. The two of you were currently sitting on his bed.

“Do you want to?” he followed.

“With having the goodbye party I feel like I should at least try,” you say.

“Then let me say goodbye before you do,” he said.

“Hold on, let me go grab something,” you excused yourself. You went to your room and grabbed the stuffed turtle you won. You returned to Gunil’s room and handed him the turtle when you sat back down beside him.

“You’re giving this to me?” he checked.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “I always planned on giving it to you. I doubt it would come back to the future with me anyway, but I won it with giving it to you in mind,” you tell him. “Thank you.” Gunil hugs the stuffed turtle to his chest.

“It still doesn’t have a name,” you pointed out.

“I’ll think of one for it.” He already knew what he was gonna name it, but he felt too shy to name it after you right in front of you. He sets the turtle down on his pillow and turns to pull you into a hug.

“I’m really going to miss you,” he says, resting his head over your shoulder.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” you hug him back. “I like you too,” you confessed. Gunil pulled back enough to look at you.

“I’m a little late to say it back, but I wanted to say it before I leave,” you give him a sentimental smile. Gunil smiles at you back and cups your face in his hands. He leans forward, pressing a warm, loving, gentle kiss on your forehead. You close your eyes basking in the feeling of his lips on you. Your hands come up to hold his wrist lovingly. The two of you stay like that for a few moments. Saying nothing, but also somehow saying everything.

“Give it a try,” Gunil says, pulling away.

“Ok.” You put each side of the headphones in your ears. You hit play then gave the cassette player a smack. You took a breath and hit rewind. Nothing happened. Literally nothing happened. The rewind button didn’t work, the song kept playing like normal.

“It doesn’t work,” you say.

“We’ll just have to think of something else then,” Gunil said.

“No, like the rewind button doesn’t work. Did smacking it break it? This is what I worried about,” you complained.

“Hey it’s ok. Let me see.” Gunil takes the cassette player from your hands. This time he gives it a smack. “Try it now.” He handed it back over to you. You give Gunil one last look before hitting the button. The song began to play backwards and the room started to blur.

You were back in your bedroom. Only the cassette player wasn’t with you.

“Y/n can you come help me with these boxes?” your mom asked you. Help her with boxes? Like on the day you time traveled. You checked the date, surely enough it was the morning of the day you left.

“And why exactly have you decided to take a trip down memory lane?” you asked your mom. Letting out a heave as you set the heavy box down on your mom’s bed.

“So much that it cracked,” you joked. Despite knowing very well where the crack came from.

“I actually don’t remember it having a crack,” your mom said, scratching her head.

“Must’ve gotten dropped at some point,” you say, recalling the memory of Gunil pulling out of the way of the speeding vehicle.

“I wonder if it still works. I’ll buy batteries for it when I go out later,” she says. You looked into the box and pulled out the year book, flipping to the page with Gunil and your mom. A sad smile appeared on your face. Your finger slowly rubbed over Gunil’s image.

“He wasn’t my boyfriend if that’s what you’re wondering,” your mom pulls you from your gaze.

“Honey, are you ok? Your eyes are red,” your mom looked at you concerned.

“I think some dust got in my eyes when we pulled the boxes down,” you lied.

“Let me go get you a wet rag,” your mom hurried away. You missed Gunil. You missed him so much it hurt. You want to cry looking at his picture. Now you know he mistook your mom for you that day. That he was probably all excited to see you again, pulling you into a super tight back hug. Only to find out that it wasn’t you. “Here you go. Wipe your eyes,” your mom gives you the rag. You couldn’t hold the couple of stray tears that escaped as you held the rag to your eyes.

Later in the day when your mom got back with the batteries you listened to the cassette with her.

“Can I keep this for a while?” you asked her.

“Of course you can! Ooh I’ll go grab you my other cassettes to listen to.” She went to grab the other cassette. You didn’t plan on listening to them though. You were only going to listen to this one and remember your time spent in the 90s with Gunil. Still when she returned you brought the cassettes up to your room and sat them down.

“We found my old cassette player this morning,” your mom tells your dad as you all eat dinner.

“Oh really? Does it still work?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it has this crack across the lid that I don’t remember it having,” she answered.

“Guess it's a mystery,” your dad said.

“No, I dropped it when I time traveled back to 1990,” you say.

“That’s a good one,” your dad chuckled.

After dinner you headed up to your room. You laid down in your bed and listened to the cassette player. Tears cascaded down your face.

For the next week you cooped up in your room. Feeling what you would call a heartbreak. The worst part was that you couldn’t talk about it. All you could do was listen to the cassette as you thought about your memories with Gunil and his friends. You wished that you could see Gunil one last time. You spent the bulk of your time there worrying about how to get back home, but now ironically enough all you want to do is go back, just one more time.

“Please, please, just one more time,” you pleaded.

“Y/n!” You opened your eyes and there Gunil is standing right in front of you.

“Gunil!” You throw yourself into his arms. He crushes you in the tightest hug. “Wait, how is this possible? I didn’t hit rewind or anything.”

“I need to do something I really regretted not doing before you left,” he said.

“What’s that?” you questioned.

Gunil cups your face just like he did when he was saying goodbye. Expect this time instead of leaning in and kissing your forehead, his lips land on yours. Your hands travel to his shoulders and one of his hands moves to cradle the back of your head.

“That.” He pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. “I really regretted not doing that.”

Your eyes open and again and your back in your bedroom. You don’t know if what just happened was a dream or not. You decide to go with not because you wanted it to be real.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Honey, can you run to the store real quick? I realized I forgot something for dinner tonight,” your mom asked your dad.

“Does dinner really need it?” your dad asked.

“Yes, why are you too lazy to go?”

“No, Seungmin grocery shops today I don’t want to run into him,”

“Are you serious? After all these years do you still hate Seungmin that much?” Your mom asked in disbelief.

“It’s not my fault I ran into him at the grocery store. He just had to bag his belongings quicker than me. He's a stupidly fast asshole,” your dad complained.

“I’ll go mom,” you speak up. You needed to see Seungmin.

“Thank you,” your mom told you.

You arrived at the store, found what your mom needed for dinner and then walked around looking for Seungmin, hoping that he was there.

“Oh Seungmin!” you called out when you saw a guy that looked like he could be an older version of Seungmin. The dude turns around at you looking perplexed at who could be calling his name.

“Y/n?” he said.

“You believe me now right?”

“How is this possible?”

“You know how it is. Time travel,” you sassed.

“You look exactly the same,” he says. He’s still partly in denial.

“Yeah, it’s been 34 years for you, but It’s only been a week for me. Are you and Gunil still friends?” you asked, changing your tone.

“We’re friends for life,” Seungmin stated “Give me your phone,” he told you.

“Why?” you asked, still pulling out your phone nonetheless. Seungmin took it from you and began to type something in.

“You should give him a call. He’s been waiting,” Seungmin said. You stare down at the number typed on your phone screen.

You got into the car and sat down. You stared at the number once more before hitting the call button. You feel butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“Hello?” he picked up.

“Hey Gunil,” you say.

“Y/n?” he asked. He looked over to the stuffed turtle that he still keeps on his bed even after all these years.

“You’ve been waiting a long time right?”

“I’d wait forever if I had too.”

Taglist: @purplelady85, @odesonnets, @gingerjunhan, @chewednails, @ezlynkisses, @mon2sunjinsuver , @mxlly143

#xdinary heroes #xdh #xdh imagines #xdh x reader #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes x reader #xh gunil #xdh gunil #gunil x reader #goo gunil x reader #koo gunil x reader #goo gunil #koo gunil #gunil #gunil fluff

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