#I gave up and made breakfast and coffee

[dickbaggins]

not my dumbass thinking I can get up for the hvac guy at 8am and then go back to bed cause it’s 10am and no hvac guy

[harrysfolklore]

oscar piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON | oscar smau

Oscar Piastri was known as the introvert and reserved driver on the grid.

While other drivers basked in the spotlight and didn't shy away from sharing details about their personal life, Oscar often preferred to keep his privacy.

However, when it came to his girlfriend, it was a different story altogether.

Oscar was what people called "a total simp" when it came to his girlfriend, always bringing her up in interviews, promo videos and casual conversations, and fans couldn't miss the opportunity to make several compilation videos and tiktoks about it.

The most popular one was called "Oscar Piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation" and the 15-minute long video was filled with moments that made fans both awe and laugh.

It started with the clip of the first time he publicly talked about her during a podcast interview, rumors about him not being single were spreading around but nothing was confirmed.

"I do have a girlfriend, yeah," Oscar said, a small smile playing on his face.

"You're not very public, aren't you?" the interviewer asked.

“We keep it to ourselves and try to be out of the spotlight and just live normal lives,” he replied, “We have been dating for over four years now, she has been there for me since the start of my career and I couldn't imagine my life without her. She's my biggest supporter and keeps me grounded.”

The next video showed Oscar and Lando sitting next to each other wearing their McLaren shirts, filming a game called "Green flag or Red flag."

"Picky eaters," the interviewer asked and Lando immediately waved the green flag.

"He's a very picky eater that's why," Oscar said, making Lando laugh, "But, what if they eat fish, cause you hate fish."

Lando dramatically raised the red flag, making everybody laugh again.

"You wouldn't date a pescatarian then," the interviewer said.

"No," Lando shook his head, "They shouldn't be here."

"My girlfriend's a pescatarian, actually," Oscar said, looking at his teammate with a raised eyebrow, "I'll pass that on to her.”

"Noooo mate!" Lando immediately shook his head, waving his hands in mock horror, "Don't tell her I said that, I don't want to be in trouble with your missus! She's a lovely girl."

"She is indeed, but I don't think she'll like you very much after this."

The next segment was from his "Day in the Life" video with Quad Lock, where Oscar gave fans a glimpse into his daily routine. In one particular clip, he was in the kitchen making breakfast.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Oscar said with a cheeky grin as he poured pancake batter onto a hot griddle, "My girlfriend loves pancakes, so I make them every Sunday. It's become sort of a tradition for us."

The camera then panned to a candid shot of his girlfriend, who was sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee and smiling fondly at Oscar. She blew him a kiss, which Oscar caught with a playful wink.

"There she is, sitting pretty while I play housewife."

The next clip in the compilation was from a press conference, where a journalist asked him how he manages to stay focused with such a demanding schedule.

"Having a supportive partner really helps," Oscar said earnestly, "She understands the pressures and the demands of the job. She’s my rock and makes everything a lot easier."

"Does it get hard for her when your schedule is too busy for your relationship?"

"My schedule is never too busy for my girlfriend, I always make sure to make time for her. That's why we've been going strong for four years now."

Another McLaren game with Lando was included, this time they were playing Finish the Lyric with Taylor Swift songs.

"Do you feel confident about this game, Oscar?" Lando asked his teammate.

"I do, actually," Oscar nodded confidently, "My girlfriend is a huge Taylor Swift fan so I know a lot of her songs."

"We should get your girl to come and play then," Lando teased.

"She'd probably beat us both, hands down. But I'm not giving up just yet." Oscar chuckled, shaking his head.

The compilation video then transitioned to a moment in the McLaren garage before the first quali of the Hungary Grand Prix. Oscar was off to the side, chatting with his girlfriend, who had joined him for the event.

They seemed to be in their own little bubble, Oscar's attention completely focused on her and his smile wide as he listened to her talk. The camera captured a sweet moment where he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about their relationship and fans absolutely melted at the interaction.

The next clip showed Oscar at a fan event in Australia, hundreds of fans gathered to meet the drivers and see them up close, Oscar was answering questions from the interviewers when he suddenly addressed one of the fans in the front row.

"I've got a girlfriend, thank you," he said into the microphone, making everyone laugh but look confused at the same time, "For everyone wondering, she just asked what my number was," the crowd laughed again even louder, "But I'm a happily taken man. You're nice but I'm not interested."

In that same event, he got asked what did he miss the most from the UK when he was back in Australia.

"My girlfriend," he immediately said, "Other than that the food is better here, the weather is better here. So my girlfriend, that's it."

The following video was also a fan interaction, this time it was a fan recorded video while he was signing stuff for those waiting for him as he arrived to the paddock for the Austin Grand Prix.

Oscar was signing autographs and taking pictures, when a fan handed him a photo of him and his girlfriend from a race weekend.

"Oh, this is a great picture," Oscar said, grinning as he looked at the photo. "This was taken at Silverstone, right? It was her first time at a race with me. She loved it."

"What's her favorite part about the races?" The fan smiled and asked.

"Probably the adrenaline and seeing me in action," Oscar chuckled, "But she also loves hanging out in the paddock. She gets along really well with everyone here."

The next clip showcased Oscar during a Twitch stream, where he was playing a racing simulator. His girlfriend walked into the room, and the chat exploded with excitement.

"Hey, love," Oscar greeted her, pausing the game.

"Am I interrupting you?" she softly asked.

"Nope, come here," he encouraged to come closer, "Everyone, this is my girlfriend," she waved at the camera, and Oscar wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into the frame. "She's the reason I'm still sane," he joked, earning a kiss on the cheek from her.

The video included one of everyone's favorite interactions between the couple, captured by McLaren's instagram team.

Oscar had just finished a quiali, earning a P2 position, the camera caught as he reunited with his girlfriend who threw her arms around his neck as soon as she saw him.

"Hiii," he shyly said, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"You did such a great job, baby," she said, still wrapped around his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on," he replied, his voice soft and genuine.

The final clip was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Oscar stood on the stage, dressed in a sharp suit, the Rookie of the Year trophy shining in his hands.

"First of all, I want to thank my team, McLaren, for believing in me and giving me the opportunity," Oscar began, his voice steady but emotional, "But most importantly, I want to thank my girlfriend. She's been my rock through it all, supporting me every step of the way. This award is as much hers as it is mine."

The camera panned to his girlfriend, sitting in the audience with tears in her eyes, smiling proudly. The fans watching the livestream couldn't help but gush over the touching moment.

As the compilation ended, the screen faded to black with the text, "Oscar Piastri: The Ultimate Simp, and Proud of It."

[meiieiri]

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.

pairing: ex-husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill wife!reader | song inspo: soon you’ll get better, cancer

warnings: heavy angst, terminal illness (primary bone cancer, stroke and MS), mentions of divorce/past infidelity, allegories to cheating, major character death. please read at your own risk. | a/n: this was so heavy for me to write, i started writing at 2 in the morning, and it’s 6:34 now.

word count. 3k~

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

Toji should have noticed, he laments as he takes a sip of his cognac. He should have sensed that something was wrong sooner, maybe that way, he wouldn’t be begging to borrow some more time to make things right. Your fingers were trembling that day — the first time you ever ruined his morning coffee — your hands shaking uncontrollably as you washed the mug with a sorrowful look on your face, your eyes glossy with the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.

He shouldn’t have been so harsh, he realizes that now. Breakfast had been burnt to a crisp and ruined, sure, but nothing could compare to how he constantly ruins the one beautiful thing that has ever happened to him, who haphazardly spilled her smoothie on him when they first bumped into each other in Shinjuku just after he finally cashed in enough money with Shiu to get his laundry done.

Toji, whose senses have now been honed to pick up on the slightest of your sluggish movements and your pained and suppressed hisses, hears the bedsheets rustling and he instantly gets up before you could even force yourself out of bed. “Hey, hey, easy now.” He catches you before you could fall backwards onto the mattress, your skin appears cold and clammy, your thinning muscles stiff as a board — you must be having one of your episodes again. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice heartbreakingly gentle for the first time in months.

“Water.”

Your husband nods, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, hurriedly making his way to the dining table which was now kept in your bedroom so you aren’t forced to move around too much. The sound of water splashing into the glass fills the air and you feel another stabbing pain coarse through your joints.

Toji gingerly brings the glass of water to your lips and you sighed, an exasperated yet amused smile on your face. “I can do it, babe. Don’t worry.” Why did that sound like you were trying to convince not just Toji but yourself? You bring your bony hands to grip the glass and it takes everything out of your husband not to break into a fit of sobs when he sees your hand violently shaking with effort just to keep the glass steady.

His larger hands close around your defeated one. “I-I…I can do it, I did it yesterday. Y-you saw me.”

“Shhh, I know, it’s okay.”

You bite your lip to distract yourself from the anguish of realizing the truth behind the doctor’s words. Everything you feared was finally becoming your and Toji’s bleak reality.

“It’ll be a painful decline.”

Funny how you’re the one fighting to extend your life but Toji feels like he’s already gone ahead and passed on. Just a few minutes earlier, you were overjoyed to see him again. You didn’t think he’d see your text thinking that his new girlfriend must have asked him to block your number, and you most certainly didn’t expect him to arrive when you asked for him via a brief phone call to drive you to the hospital for your monthly checkup since he took the car with him when you separated. He made up a bullshit excuse when Yuko asked where he was going in such a hurry and he makes it to your old shared apartment to see you sitting on the driveway looking thinner and sicklier than ever — your eyes were sunken, and your cheeks were hollow.

Yet in spite of that, you gave him the brightest of smiles, waving shyly to him as he steps out of the driver’s seat. “Happy morning!” you smiled, greeting him with your signature good morning tagline which he used to happily wake up to everyday. There wasn’t a scintilla of resentfulness in your demeanor, and you genuinely looked so happy to see him for the first time since he moved out.

“How long?” Toji asked the doctor, his heart twisted into knots when he hears you happily humming in the MRI room as you put your clothes back on, oblivious to the solemn mood in the other room. You already knew what was going on, but you’ll just continue pretending that everything’s alright and that this is nothing more but a case of fatigue so as not to inconvenience Toji.

“A year, maybe even less.”

“And…you’re saying it’s best if she simply…doesn’t get the treatment?”

The doctor sighs heavily. She’s seen many cases like this before, but none as utterly hopeless as yours. Even if you did start the treatment, the lesions in your spinal cord have already entered the most severe stage, you were already exhibiting signs of autonomic nervous system distress — the tremors, the uncontrollable stuttering of your words, the growing loss of balance — and as if that wasn’t enough, the doctor also discovers that you were suffering from primary osteosarcoma.

There was no way to cure you now that it’s too late.

“I suggest we just focus on keeping her comfortable. The only thing left for us to do now is to bring her home. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking embarrassing. I can’t bring you anywhere.”

By some miracle, you and Toji went out one night around four months before the divorce proceedings. He went home that day, exhausted beyond all belief from another mission, but he was in a good mood. Yuko was out working late tonight, so, he decides to take you out to your and his favorite izakaya for some yakitori.

Some time during the night, after downing three full bottles of sake together, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” you told Toji, tipsily kissing him on the cheek as you hop off the bar stool in the direction of the women’s room.

You couldn’t tell if you were staggering from the copious amounts of alcohol you ingested, but your legs were beginning to feel heavy, and for some ominous reason, you were slowly losing all sensation in your left leg. You try to hold onto one of the izakaya’s shōji panel decor pieces to regain your balance, but it was a futile effort in the end. Your knees suddenly buckle, and a sickening crack tears through your tibia as you fall to the ground.

“Are you alright?!”

Toji picks up on the commotion instantly and he sees the izakaya patrons crowding around the hallway leading to the restroom. He quickly makes his way over and a look of disgust appears on his features when he sees you crumpled on the ground and the mortifying sight of you having relieved yourself on the floor, tears of embarrassment staining your cheeks at the thought of your body suddenly malfunctioning like this.

Muttering out an ignorant apology for his seemingly drunk wife, he roughly picks you up, growing increasingly infuriated with you when one izakaya employee offers him a damp cloth to dry out your urine with. It was funny how quickly other people came to your aid — people whose names you don’t even know — while your own husband seems very reluctant to even touch you right now. He doesn’t speak to you on the way home even as you apologize while he’s loading you into the car, grimacing when the leather seat gets wet. “Toji, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened—“

“—Save it.”

What he should have said was: “Are you okay?”, “It’s alright.” or better yet, “I still love you.”.

At present, Toji decides on a whim to take you to Yokohama’s famed bayside today. It’s only a two hour drive from your place in Tokyo and Toji figures you must miss going on road trips by now with you cooped up at home all the time. “Toji, are you sure this is a good idea?” you murmured nervously as the car pulls to a stop by the bayside promenade. What happens if you can’t control yourself again? There doesn’t look to be a lot of public restrooms nearby.

Toji plants a reassuring kiss to your nose. “Babe, you remember what the doctor said, spending some time outdoors can do wonders for your health. Besides, didn’t you always love the coast?” He brings your hand to his scarred lips, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin before stepping out of the car to retrieve your wheelchair from the trunk.

“I know but what if I have another accident?” you said worriedly, rolling down the car windows so he could hear you. “What if I embarrass you again?”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about you.”

You’ve lost all control of your lower extremities three months ago, rendering you unable to walk and feel when you need to relieve yourself. Toji struggles with the wheelchair for a bit and a flash of sadness fills your heart when you see him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn’t angry, he was devastated. He looks wistfully at the boardwalk, a distant gaze trained on the sea. He remembers when you used to walk down this very lane, his hand protectively around your waist as you happily take selfies. He could still hear your fond giggles the last time the two of you went here.

“Why don’t you ever smile when I take pictures of you?”

Toji shoos away a pigeon from stealing a bite of his ice cream sandwich. He feigns an unamused look when you try to take another picture of him on your phone.

“Come on, I’ve been trying to get a shot of you all day! You still have to take pictures of me so I can post it on my Instagram feed!”

Your ever moody husband pinches off a small piece of bread and feeds it to the nosy pigeon. “You and your precious feed,” he bemoans jokingly.

“Please? Just one picture!“ you playfully nudged him. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him smile for once, a genuine one and not one of those lopsided smirks he usually gives you when he’s teasing you. “Please?” you pout knowing he can never say no to that adorable face you make when you really want him to do something or worse, buy something for you.

Sighing, he turns to look at your phone’s camera lens and you blush when a smile slowly illuminates his usually stoic face. Your thumb hovers over the stop recording function, not realizing you’re taking a video, but you can’t seem to press it. “What’s taking so long?” he holds the smile like he’s some cartoon character and you snap out of it.

“Oh shoot, it’s a video!” you laughed, and you begin to run down the boardwalk, eagerly getting away from Toji who demands that you delete it immediately. Of course, you’re no match for his borderline inhuman speed attributed to his athletic physique and he catches you by the waist, playfully swinging you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.

Now, your giggles have gone silent.

Toji realizes now he should have indulged you more over the course of your relationship and subsequent marriage. Had he known that you won’t even make it to your third wedding anniversary, he would have allowed you to take as many pictures and videos of him as you’d like, he’d swallow his pride and he’d give you the brightest of smiles so you could happily post him on your social media accounts with a heartwarming caption about him being your “smiley hubby”.

More than that though, he should have taken more photos of you, mostly stolen candid shots, of course. You can’t catch him being all soft on you now. He still has a reputation to live up to after all. But more than that, had he known that your illness was intent on stealing every scrap of you from him, he should have made more effort in preserving all these memories. He should have kept everything from those toll tickets on your late night drives together when the two of you just needed a quick escape from the world, to receipts from your trip to Tokyo Disney Sea on your first wedding anniversary, and even simple convenience store receipts.

Toji should have kept everything down to the smallest of memories knowing one day, that’s all he’ll have to remember you by.

He opens the passenger seat’s door and he effortlessly gathers you into his arms, being extra careful with your fragile form as he sits you down on the wheelchair. He opens the backseat and he pulls out two different colored blankets, one sea-foam green and the other, rose pink. “Take your pick,” he smiles at you and you chuckled softly, pointing to the rose pink one. He happily covers your legs with it to keep you warm, stroking your cheek when you whisper a bashful ‘thank you’.

Suddenly, the wind picks up and your hair-clip that’s holding your locks in a low bun comes loose, and your head turns in the direction of where it flew off to. Toji is quick to take out his phone and he snaps a quick burst shot of you, your hair blowing in the wind, under the coastal spring weather. You turn to look at him and your face falls when you see him burying his phone in his pocket. Since you fell ill, you’ve become insecure of your appearance, banning your husband from taking pictures and videos of you altogether. “Toji, I thought I said no pictures.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The next day, you serendipitously find your photo on your Instagram handle with the caption: “Y/N — Yokohama, Spring, 2024” and when you swipe left, another picture, well to be more accurate, a screenshot of the video clip you accidentally took of him captioned: “Toji — Yokohama, Summer, 2022”.

“You don’t have to stick around for me. Please just go, I’m sure Yuko must be looking for you right now.”

Yuko, his new fiancé, had been blowing up his phone the entire day with texts demanding to know where he is and if he’s going to make it to their date that night. It’s 7 PM now, and Toji still hasn’t shown up to confirm their restaurant reservations. The damn witch will surely cuss him out when they see each other again, but for some reason, even if he tries, he simply cannot bring himself to give a flying fuck. Your immunologist and oncologist stepped out for a bit to allow you two a brief moment of privacy which had now stretched to an expanse of five hours since your results came in.

The air in the room is thick and heavy, not a single sound can be heard. Inside however, underneath this tough exterior he was projecting, Toji is throwing a fit, screaming at the sky like those broken men in those shitty Netflix romance tragedies he used to callously make fun of.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You knew, didn’t you?”

Toji’s bites his cheek trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it out loud. You hated him. You wanted nothing to do with him after he cheated on you with some girl he met at a bar in uptown Shibuya. That’s why you didn’t tell him, he didn’t deserve to know. “Shit,” he whispers harshly, crumpling the medical abstract in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Was it because you hated me? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d worry about you?”

You screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You didn’t hate him, not even when you have every reason to. He abandoned you, left you to waste away and to die and yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to resent him for the simple reason that he is the literal love of your life, the reason behind your smiles, your happy mornings and passionate midnight hours. “At first, I thought I was fine, maybe just fatigued or something.”

“Don’t lie. You knew something was going on and that something in your body was seriously fucked up.”

“And we weren’t married anymore so, I didn’t think it was right to tell you…I wanted to though, but I didn’t want to intrude on you and Yuko,” you said meekly. Even in your greatest hour of need, you were still thinking of him, putting him first even when he doesn’t deserve it. “I-I…I don’t hate you enough to worry you, to make you feel that you could have done something to prevent this. Because I’m telling you right now, regardless if you were faithful or not, I was bound to get sick anyway. You couldn’t have done anything to change that.”

“But I could have been there. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have downplayed everything.” He says this as if he wants to shake this noble, self-sacrificing bullshit attitude out of your system. “I’m your husband. I should have been there.”

You flash him a heartbroken smile at his little slip-up, so, even now, he was still referring to himself as your husband, not your ex-husband. “To see me waste away? Babe, I don’t want you to see that.”

You begin to feel tears streaming down your face, the emotions you were experiencing now flowing like a free river after an entire dam is destroyed. Toji watches you unravel before his eyes and his bottom lip begins to tremble. What has he done? Dear god, what has he done to his poor, poor wife?

“I want you to remember me healthy, I want you to remember me as myself not this…sickly pitiful woman you’re unlucky to call your ex-wife…besides, after all this, I’ll only be a dream.” A mere passing second in his life. “And believe me, my life wasn’t so bad.”

He loses it at that.

“Just stop this, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re not scared shitless of dying, like you’re not gonna have regrets once all this is over! Stop pretending that things are gonna be alright one day because it won’t! Not when I’m now being forced to accept that you won’t get better, not when I’ve wasted so much time putting you through hell and back instead of taking care of you like a proper husband should, and certainly not when I’m suddenly supposed to learn to say goodbye and to live without you! Because fuck that, Y/N!”

You are left speechless at that.

Toji was never one to lose his cool, even during your worst arguments, he may slide a few snarky remarks here and there but Toji Fushiguro…never yells, and he doesn’t sob either.

You hesitantly stand up and walk over to him, crouching down in front of him as he covers his tear-stained eyes with his right hand while the other is crumpled around your medical abstract. Taking his left hand, you gently remove the medical abstract from his grip, and for the first time in so many months, you feel one another’s warm skin against each other. You press your forehead to his hand as you wept with him.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be a dream. I want you to be real.”

“Can’t you be bothered to clean up in here?!”

You wake up from your nap, you’ve been battling muscle and joint pain the entire day, the slightest of movement causing you to double over in agony and because of that, you weren’t able to clean the apartment today. You slowly get up from the couch, being extra cautious not to make any sudden movements. “Well?” Toji presses, his lips curled into a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I was feeling a little tired,” you sighed heavily, picking up a broom to sweep the living room floor despite the excruciating pain you were in. Toji rolls his eyes, handing you a Manila envelope. “What’s this?” you asked softly, peering inside.

“Divorce papers,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Everything stops, even the very rise and fall of your chest halts into an uneasy stasis. “I already signed them. I just need your signature then, I’ll move out by tomorrow.”

You must be dreaming. That’s the only logical explanation to all this. You’re asleep, in a deep REM sleep, utterly oblivious to the world. This wasn’t happening. But you could feel the rough surface of the brown envelope, and you could still feel the agonizing stabs of white hot pain throughout your body. Glancing at Toji, you see him texting someone with an eager look on his face that screams: “I’m free.”.

Instantly, it dawns on you.

“Will she make you happy?” you asked, putting down the broom to look around for a pen but Toji pulls one he stole from the law firm office out of his pocket.

“She will,” he answers simply.

And you are indeed grateful that he is completely upfront about finding another while the two of you are married. It would have hurt much more, you silently remind yourself, if he had just upped and left without another word leaving you to wonder what went wrong between the two of you. This was Toji’s final act of mercy in your marriage, and he’s not opposed to honesty and truthfulness either. Not once did he try to change his phone’s lock-screen passcode, nor did he try to conceal the identity of the woman who was texting him every night while you slept fitfully next to him. It was almost as if he wanted you to find out, like he wanted you to know so you could back off yourself.

But if there’s one thing Toji loves about you, it’s your unending faithfulness to your promises, to your marriage vows, and your willingness to endure anything he threw at you. You never checked his phone, you never brought up his affair, you never got angry with him. You just kept silent, simply content with giving and giving…and giving while he milked you dry by taking, and taking and taking, tearing you to pieces bit by bit without hearing a single complaint fall from your lips.

You were a devoted wife, through and through.

And it bored the hell out of him, on top of your recent mishaps, he was done. Done with everything, and done with you.

“Okay.”

Come morning, he takes everything he owns with him and promptly proposes to the girl he’s been seeing for the past year. Two weeks later, your divorce is received by the Tokyo Family Court and is summarily approved and finalized. From that moment on, you and Toji went on your separate ways never to look back, you were each other’s yesterdays, and the love that existed between the two of you was nullified in favor of acquaintanceship…or so you thought.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Toji calls into the house as he comes back from your neighborhood’s pharmacy. You look up from the book you were reading, smiling ever so slightly at your husband who seemed to have a wonderful sparkle in his eyes. “Hey, kid,” he kisses the top of your head when he reaches your wheelchair.

“You seem happy,” you remarked positively.

“Well, for one, they replenished their stocks today and I managed to get you your steroids and painkillers so you’ll be able to sleep easy tonight,” Toji smiles, taking out the items from the pharmacy’s paper bag. “And I got you this neat memory foam cushion for your wheelchair.” He fluffs it up as a form of demonstration before placing it behind your back.

When he sees you smile, a sense of relief washes over Toji. You reach towards him, and he pulls you into an embrace. “Thank you,” you said, pure sincerity dripping from your voice. “For everything you do.”

“Anything for you.” He suddenly moves back and reaches into the tote bag you lended him. “Oh, and wait, before I forget, I have another surprise.”

You laughed airily. “Another surprise? Now, you’re just spoiling me!”

He pulls out a piece of paper from the tote bag and he places it in your hands as your eyes quickly scan over the document. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize what it is. Did Toji really—? You couldn’t believe it. “A marriage pre-registration,” you said in awe. You read it again just in case to make sure that this wasn’t a figment of your sick body’s imagination, that this was real, that Toji genuinely wants to make everything right again. Your fingers skim over your typewritten names. “It has our names…we’re really—“ You can’t even finish your sentence without bursting into happy tears. “Are we—?”

Toji nods, gazing into your eyes, and as emerald and (E/C) clash for what seems to be an eternity lost in one another, he plants a kiss to your temple, coming up to embrace you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We are. The Tokyo Family Court, as far as I know, will approve our remarriage once we file this. So, you have to get stronger, okay?” He’s begging you at this point, despite your rapidly deteriorating condition. “Strong enough to see me fix everything. Strong enough to be there on our second wedding, strong enough to say our vows again.”

Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek from behind, and he nuzzles into your neck at your tender touch.

“I will. I promise.”

But you never really get to say your vows. Not comprehensibly anyway.

“Babe, can you say that again?”

Toji crouches by your bedside as you look at him apologetically. You were causing him trouble and pain again which is the last thing that you want to give him especially when’s fought and worked so hard to care for you, to keep prolonging this borrowed time you’re on. “To-ji. Toji.” You gaze at him apprehensibly, not really believing you can do it without crumbling.

“Come on, babe, you can do it. Say my name, please…Toji. I’m Toji.”

“Toooji-“ you slurred sadly. At this point, your Multiple Sclerosis has reached its end stage and has taken…everything from you: your ability to walk, your ability to control your muscle spasms and other bodily functions…and now, coupled with an unexpected stroke, your ability to speak. And you and Toji know that time is almost up, with you having come to accept it, while your husband still held onto hope. Your fingers gently graze over his face as best as your spasms and tremors allow you, starting from his forehead to his eyes, his nose, his cheek and finally, his lips, as if you’re memorizing it one last time. “Lo-ove you-“

Toji sniffles, and your fingers instinctively catch his warm tears. “I love you,” he whispers brokenly. “I do. I love you.”

You feel yourself tearing up as you’re forced to watch your beloved cry. And the worst part? You can’t do a thing about it. “D-oon’t c-cry—‘m okaay. Promi-miise…e’everyything ‘ill be okaaay.”

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles, trying to crack a joke even as hope dwindles. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking champ this entire time, you know? I’m so proud of you. So…so…proud that you’re still here.” He strokes your hair as you tread between the realms of the conscious and the unconscious. “Do you wanna go out today? The weather’s shit though. You’ll probably catch your death out there.” At the mention of the word ‘death’, Toji stops, falling into an uncomfortable silence.

You smile weakly at him. “Tiiredd—“

“You’re no fun,” Toji gently flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding back an entire waterfall of tears. He knows it’s today. It has to be. You woke up today without your usual ‘happy morning’ greeting, and you refused to drink anything, much less eat anything. “You tired? Any pain?”

You shake your head. You’re as comfortable as you can be for the first time in months. Hospice nurses say humans are built to live the same way they are built to die, no person in this world has ever had the uncanny privilege of being able to look up ‘How to die?’ on a quick Google search and actually find a Wikihow on the morbid subject matter, nor is there anyone else who can teach another how it’s done. It’s just something humans know how to do without a manual, deeply ingrained in the very fabric of human existence is the fear of death, the fear of what comes after, the fear of a nothingness that could follow after living such a vibrant life. Your life was short, barely spanning thirty years, but you lived well: you fell in love, you got hurt, but you fell together again. Now it all has to come to an end, Toji will just have to take care of the rest.

And you weren’t scared.

Or at least you can’t look scared, if you were to be more accurate, you have to look strong and ready to accept the cards you’ve been dealt with for Toji’s sake. When he feels your hand start to slacken, Toji intakes a sharp, shaky breath of sheer panic. “Not yet, Y/N. Please. Not yet.”

He climbs into bed with you, bringing you closer to this desperate man you call yours. There was no getting better anymore, there was no miracle he could hang onto, no deity he could beg for death to spare you, no pill bottle he could pray to. He knew that from the start. But what he witnessed these past months, you’ve been the braver one between the two of you, you knew how to make the most of the rhythm this cruel world gave you and you graciously took him along to dance to the last song of the evening with you.

“There’s still hope. Just keep your eyes open. Just keep them open.” He presses his lips to your forehead, his delusion getting the better of him. “We’ll just keep trying…you can’t leave. You have to stay. You have to.”

“Thaank yoou—“ you softly told your Toji, your voice shrinking in decibels as you become a little drowsy, sinking into the warmth of the requiem of a life well spent.

Toji listens to you, his lips pursed, intent on making this final act of love — a love that is strong enough to say goodbye — a memorable one. And should the afterlife exist, he wishes to send you off with a smile, with the reassurance that he’ll be alright even if that was far from happening.

“Toji.”

“I want you to be real. And I don’t care if we’ll live on borrowed time. Another extra second with you…is enough to last me my entire lifetime.”

[alienzil]

Grandfathered In

There, a job well done. Alfred thought to himself as he put the last grocery bag in the back of the car. Meal planning and shopping for a family as large as his own (and their semi frequent unexpected guests) did take quite a bit of his time but he'd managed to finish a bit early this week.

Alfred was thinking fondly of spending his extra time with a nice cup of tea and a book when he heard a noise from the nearby alley.

He stilled and listened intently. That was the sound of someone in pain. A child in pain if he wasn't mistaken (a sound he would rather he wasn't so familiar with). Well then, the tea would have to wait.

Alfred quietly moved into the alleyway, his hand inside his coat gripping the pistol hidden there. Hurt child or not, it never hurts to be cautious in Gotham.

"Good Heavens!"

There was a boy with pure white hair and bright, barely open, luminous green eyes. He was curled up, partially hidden by the dumpster, clearly barely clinging to consciousness and was oozing bright green blood from a large abdominal wound as well as several smaller cuts and burns.

He approached slowly and held out his hands to try to appear as friendly and non threatening as possible. "You appear to be in a bit of trouble young sir, perhaps I can help?"

The boy nodded weakly and Alfred knelt down and reached to pick him up. Best to get him into the car quickly and make use of his emergency first aid kit to stabilize the boy then get him home for further treatment. The hospital clearly wasn't an option for the young Meta... or alien perhaps? Something to ask once the boy was up to it.

Alfred carefully cradled the child and briskly moved back towards the car. He appeared to be a young teenager but he weighed so little, Alfred almost felt as though he was holding a toddler rather than a teen.

He lay the boy down in the back seat and leaned over to reassure him, gently moving his hair out of his eyes and petting is head in a soothing gesture. "There now, we'll have you right as rain in no time."

"Ha" the injured young Meta tried to laugh. "Might take...some time.. Don't ya think?"

Oh he'd fit right in, Alfred couldn't help thinking. Sassing even as he lay there bleeding. Well, in spirit if not quite the usual appearance, Alfred considered, eyeing the white hair and bright green eyes but-

A bright white suddenly light filled the car. Alfred blinked away the spots from his vision then stared in astonishment at the now black haired, blue eyed boy before him. Well then, fit right in indeed.

*****

Bruce blearily wandered into the kitchen and sat down at the table just barely holding in a yawn. He'd been in space on a mission with the Justice League for over 3 weeks and had only just gotten back to Earth in time to crash into bed and get a few hours of sleep before he had to be back up.

He reached for his coffee and looked around the table at his children. Tired as he was, it was good to be home. It even looked like everyone had made it for breakfast, a rare event for their family. Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Stephanie, Barbara, Damian, Duke and...

"Who's this?" Bruce asked with friendly smile. Did one of his kids make a new friend?

Alfred silently appeared next to him. "That is your son."

"My son?" What was happening? Bruce was too tired for this. He counted again, Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Stephanie, Barbara, Damian, Duke and...he looked closely at the last one. Black hair, blue eyes. Looks like one of his... He had no idea who this child was.

"Your son." Alfred said firmly as he sat some papers next to Bruce's plate.

Bruce looked down. Those were adoption papers.

"Oh. My. God." Stephanie whisper screamed from across the table. "That's where B got the adoption habit from!"

Bruce's attention was diverted from the multiple children trying to shush Stephanie as an uncapped pen was placed in front of him. He looked up as Alfred raised a single eyebrow and gave him a pointed look.

"Right, of course. My son."

He quickly scanned the adoption papers as he signed them then looked over at his latest child.

"Welcome to the family, Danny."

Note: I don't currently have plans to continue this. Anyone can add on if they would like to :-)

[hoe4hotchner]

Bakery owner reader x loyal customer hotch

Something with the team finding out about reader and seeing hotch all happy and smiling and whipped for her.

Later them finding out they’re actually dating and penny freaking out 😭😭

Love, Freshly Baked | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Bakery owner!reader

CW: Nothing but tooth rotting fluff

WC: 1k

A/N: Forgive me for having this drafted for ages!!! But here it is, and it's super duper cute!!!

           The smell of fresh pastries and brewing coffee filled the small bakery every morning, a cozy retreat nestled on a quiet corner of the bustling city. You had been running the shop for a couple of years now, getting to know every regular by name, but there was one customer who had quickly become your favorite.

           Aaron Hotchner.

           He’d been coming in almost every morning for months, ordering the same thing - a black coffee and a croissant - but it wasn’t just the simplicity of his order that caught your attention. It was the way he always seemed so calm and composed, even when the stress of his job was written all over his face. You weren’t sure what he did - all you knew was he had to wear a suit for the job - but you could tell it wore on him. Still, every time he walked through the door, his shoulders relaxed just a little, and a small smile would tug at his lips when he saw you.

           What you didn’t know was that Hotch’s team had noticed this change in him. It started small - an extra cup of coffee in the morning, a slightly brighter demeanor after breakfast - but it wasn’t long before the rest of the BAU picked up on it.

           “Anyone else notice how… happy Hotch has been lately?” Emily asked one morning as they gathered around their desks, waiting for the next case.

           Morgan leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “You’re right. I haven’t seen Hotch smile this much in… well, ever.”

           "Maybe he’s just found a new way to deal with stress. Meditation, perhaps?” Spencer didn't look up from the book he was reading as he answered.

           Penelope scoffed, twirling a bright pink pen in her hand. “Please, Reid. Hotch isn’t meditating. Something - or rather someone - has got him smiling.”           

           The rest of the team exchanged looks, curiosity piqued.

           A few days later, their suspicions were confirmed.

           It was a slow day at the office, so Hotch decided to take a longer-than-usual lunch break. What he didn’t realize was that his team had quietly followed him to the bakery, determined to find out what - or who - was behind their boss’s newfound cheerfulness.

           “Look,” Penelope whispered excitedly from across the street, pointing toward the bakery window. “He’s smiling! He’s actually smiling!”

           Sure enough, through the glass, they could see Hotch leaning against the counter, his face lit up in a way they’d never seen before. And then there was you, standing behind the counter with that same soft smile you always gave him.

           “Oh my god,” JJ whispered, her eyes wide. “Is that the bakery he always talks about?”

           “Looks like it,” Derek said, grinning. “And it looks like our boy is whipped.”

           Inside the bakery, Hotch had no idea he was being watched. He was too focused on you - on the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about your latest recipe, the way your hands moved with such care as you worked on rolling out the dough. Every morning spent in your presence was like a small respite from the chaos of his job, and he found himself craving that peace more and more as time went by.

           You handed him his coffee, and for a moment, your fingers brushed his. The simple contact sent a warmth through him that no amount of caffeine ever could.

           “You know, Aaron,” you said softly, your voice carrying the warmth that always made his mornings a little brighter, “you’re going to start running out of excuses to come here if you keep this up.”

           Hotch chuckled, a rare sound that you loved hearing. “I’ll think of something.”

           As he turned to leave, he glanced back one more time, catching your eye and giving you a smile that was just for you.

           Meanwhile, across the street, Penelope was practically bouncing with excitement. “You guys! He’s totally into her! Did you see that smile? We have to find out more.”

           A week later, the team got more than they bargained for.

           It was a Friday afternoon, and Hotch had just returned to the office after lunch. He was in a good mood, his smile lingering longer than usual. That’s when Penelope burst into the room, holding up her phone like it was a trophy.

           “Guys, you are not going to believe this!” she exclaimed, her voice high with excitement.

           The team gathered around, eyes wide as Penelope pulled up a photo she’d found online. It was you and Hotch, taken outside the bakery on a sunny day. He had his arm around your waist, and you were looking up at him with a smile that could melt hearts.

           “They’re dating!” Penelope practically squealed. “Hotch is dating the owner of the bakery!”

           The rest of the team was equally stunned.

           “Okay, now it all makes sense,” Emily said, grinning. “The extra coffee, the smiling, the mysterious bakery trips.”

           Morgan shook his head, chuckling. “Never thought I’d see the day when Hotch would be this smitten again. It’s nice to see him happy.”

           Penelope, however, was still in full freak-out mode. “Oh my god, we have to do something! Maybe throw them a surprise party or - wait, no, that’s too much. But we have to celebrate this somehow!”

           As they brainstormed, Hotch walked back into the bullpen, completely unaware of the chaos his relationship had caused among his team. But when he saw the knowing smiles on their faces, he paused.

           “What’s going on?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

           Penelope couldn’t hold it in any longer. “We know about the bakery, Hotch! And about her!” she blurted out, practically glowing with excitement.

           For a moment, Hotch was silent, his eyes scanning the room before he finally let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “I should’ve known you’d find out eventually.”

           The team erupted into laughter, and for the first time in a long time, Aaron Hotchner didn’t mind being the center of attention - because, after all, it was all for a love that made him happier than he’d ever been.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Wasn’t Me

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Synopsis: when Vision accidentally phases through your wall and catches you and Peter in the act, you try to stop it from spreading to everyone in the tower before Tony gets home

Masterlist

“Wait, this isn’t the kitchen.” Vision said as he accidentally phased through the bedroom wall. You and Peter froze at the sound of a third voice and slowly looked up. Every time you snuck off to have some private time with each other, you made sure to lock the door. But despite all your best efforts to keep your relationship a secret, neither of you accounted for Vision coming through the wall. Especially not when you were right in the middle of….something.

“Oh. Hello.” Vision said and gave you and Peter a polite wave. The act he had caught you did not seem to phase him at all while you and Peter were horrified.

“AHHHH.” You and Peter screamed at the same time. You rolled off of Peter and landed right on the floor while Peter grabbed a pillow and placed it over his lap.

“Forgive me for intruding, but I am looking for the kitchen.” She said to meet her in the kitchen.” Vision asked politely.

“Well you’re not gonna find it here!” You exclaimed as you threw your shirt back on.

“Dude! Get out! ” Peter shouted as he hastily tried to zip his pants.

“Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?” Vision genuinely asked.

“YES!” You screamed like it was obvious.

“My apologies. I bid you both a good day.” Vision nodded curtly and disappeared back the way he came. You and Peter stayed in silence for a while as you processed what had happened.

“Do you think he saw us?” Peter asked to break the silence. You sat up from under him and gave him a look.

“Do I think he saw us?” You repeated slowly.

“Well do you?” Peter asked as you climbed back onto the bed.

“Are you kidding me? Of course he saw! The straw was already in the coconut. There’s no way he didn’t realize what was going on.”

“Maybe he thought we were just wrestling?” Peter shrugged weakly.

“Uh huh. Wresting with your dick out. Just like WWE.” You said sarcastically.

“Damn it. He definitely saw us. Do you think he’ll tell anyone?” Peter worried.

“He better not. My dad will kill you. And then vaporize your corpse. And then set the ashes on fire. And then blow them into a shrimp cocktail.”

“But I’m allergic to shellfish.”

“Exactly.” You whispered.

“Oh shit.” Peter gulped. “We need to go find Vision and make sure he doesn’t tell anyone.”

“Let’s go. He’s probably charging or in a bowl of rice or something.” You said and lead Peter out of the room. You went into the kitchen and found Vision at the breakfast table.

“Hey Vision.” Peter smiled awkwardly as you stood beside him.

“Hello, Peter.” Vision said politely.

“So, about the little snafu from before. We just want to make sure you don’t tell anybody about what you saw.”

“Yeah. Because it wasn’t what it looked like.” You added.

“Oh, no? It looked like the two do you were engaging in sexually explicit activity.” Vision replied. You and Peter exchanged a panicked look and tried to think of a way out of this.

“It looked like that, yes, but that’s not what we were doing.” Peter lied as you nodded along.

“Hm. That’s funny. I can detect heart rates and both of you appear to be lying.” Vision said with genuine curiosity.

“We’re not lying, silly.” You forced a laugh. “My heart is racing because I haven’t had any food yet but I drank a bunch of coffee.”

“You know women and their pumpkin spice lattes.” Peter added, earning himself a jab in the side.

“Watch it.” You said through a smile.

“And my heart just beats fast because I have the heart rate of a spider.” Peter added. “No lying here.”

“Oh, I see. But if you two weren’t engaging in sexual activity, what were you doing?” Vision questioned.

“Uhhh…” Peter scratched his head and tried to think of something.

“Peter was just choking on a pretzel and I was getting it out of his throat.” You jumped in.

“With your tongue?” Vision asked.

“Yes?” Peter said weakly.

“With your shirts off?”

“It’s a new technique.” You deadpanned.

“I’m not aware of this technique. Can you demonstrate on me?” Vision asked you.

“Absolutely not.” Peter snapped and stepped between you and Vision. Vision looked at Peter in confusion and you had to jump in again.

“Because it didn’t work.” You explained. “He still choked.”

“He seems fine to me. Although, I am detecting some slight discomfort in the abdomen.” Vision said as he looked Peter up and down.

“I have a tummy ache.” Peter admitted and patted his stomach.

“Would you like me to conduct a physical exam?” Vision asked and held up both his hands.

“No. I probably just have to fart.”

“Oh my God.” You groaned and rubbed your eyes.

“So are we cool? You’re not gonna tell anyone what you saw?” Peter asked Vision.

“We are cool. I will not be telling anyone what I didn’t see.” Vision confirmed.

“Okay. Good.” You sighed in relief.

“Except for Wanda.” He added. “Because I already told her. I tell her everything. I love her quite dearly.”

“Oh my God.” You groaned even louder.

“What did you tell her you saw?” Peter asked him.

“Just you were engaging in-“

“It wasn’t sexual activity!” You exclaimed. “He was choking and I was saving his life.”

“Then why was his penis out?” Vision asked Peter.

“Because…it…was… cold.” Peter said slowly, hating himself with every word.

“Oh my God. Both of you need to stop.” You stated. “Do you think Wanda going to tell anyone about what you thought you saw but didn’t actually see?”

“I’m not sure.” Vision replied. “You’ll have to ask her.”

“Fine. We can ask her.” You sighed and pulled Peter by the hand and brought him to where Wanda was reading on the balcony.

“I don’t want to. She’s scary.” Peter whispered to you.

“We have to talk to her and find out what she knows before she tells my dad.” You whispered back.

“I can whisper too.” Wanda whispered as she suddenly appeared behind the two of you. You both screamed and jumped apart as she laughed. You grabbed Peters hand and ran away, brushing past Natasha as you went.

“They’re a little odd, aren’t they?” Natasha chuckled as she watched you run by.

“They are.” Wanda agreed. “You know, Vision caught them doing it before.”

“What? No way.”

“Yeah. He said he accidentally phased through Peters bedroom wall and caught them.”

“Oh God. Yuck. New fear unlocked. That’s hilarious though.” Natasha laughed at the thought.

“What’s hilarious?” Steve asked as he came into the room.

“Vision caught Y/n and Peter doing it.” Natasha told him.

“What?” Steve laughed. “No way.”

“That’s what I said!” Natasha laughed.

“Honestly, I kinda figured they were doing it. They are the only two in the tower around that age. And lord knows Peter is hornier than an…animal with horns.” Steve said weakly when he couldn’t think of an animal.

“Rhino?” Wanda asked.

“I was thinking Triceratops.” Steve admitted.

“Wait, isn’t there a rule again dating on the team?” Nat asked. “At least, that’s what Tony tells me and Bruce every time we make eye contact.”

“If he had a problem with that, he’s definitely gonna have a rule against one of us dating his daughter. Especially Peter.”

“I thought Peter was a nice boy, no?” Wanda asked.

“He is.” Steve nodded. “But all Tony will see is that he’s a boy who Vision caught with his daughter. He’s gonna blow Peter into a million pieces.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what Vision walked in on.” Wanda mumbled. From across the room, you and Peter were peeking out from behind a wall to watch them all talk.

“This is bad. They’re all laughing and saying our names.” Peter whispered to you.

“Do you think Wanda told?”

“I don’t know. What if she made them all see it with her mind powers?”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she’s evil and not to be trusted!” Peter whispered harshly.

“We just need to talk to her and find out what she knows. Maybe she didn’t even believe Vision.”

“Do we have to?” Peter whined. “What if she enters my mind palace?”

“She wouldn’t find much.” You mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, sweetie.” You patted his cheek and pulled him out from behind the wall. Natasha and Steve had left at that point and Wanda had gone back to her book.

“Hey, Wanda.” You said with an awkward wave.

“Oh. Hello. I haven’t seen you two in forever. What have you been up to?” Wanda said sarcastically.

“Not much. Same soup, just reheated. You know the vibes. So, uh, we just wanted to talk to you about something. Something Vision might have said.” You began.

“Oh. You mean you two swallowing each other alive in Peters room?” Wanda asked. You and Peter exchanged a look and Peter let out a loud gulp.

“Vision doesn’t know what he saw.” You told her.

“Vision is made from the highest form of artificial intelligence. He knows everything.”

“Okay.” You said mockingly. “But he doesn’t know in this specific situation.”

“He’s programmed to access a situation down to every last detail in case there is a threat of danger. And it seemed the only threat of danger in Peters room that day was running out of oxygen. Or maybe a broken pelvis.”

“I’m flattered but I’m not that good.” Peter said humbly.

“He’s right. He isn’t.” You nodded in agreement.

“What was that?” Peter asked you.

“We just want to make sure whatever Vision told you about what he thinks he saw isn’t going to be told to anyone else.” You said to Wanda.

“Now hold on.” Peter tried to go back to what he had heard.

“Secrets safe with me.” Wanda smiled and zipped her lips.

“And me.” Bruce said from behind you. You and Peter whipped around and saw Bruce staring at you while eating a bowl of cereal.

“What?! Were you in here the whole time?” Peter asked.

“Yeah. Wanda, you are funny. How come I never noticed that?” Bruce chuckled.

“I’m not sure.” Wanda shrugged. “You tell me.”

“God damn it. Are either of you going to tell anyone what Vision saw?” You asked and pointed at Wanda and Bruce.

“I thought Vision didn’t see anything?” Wanda smirked.

“Right. Is anyone going to tell my dad about what Vision thinks he saw but definitely didn’t see?” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“Maybe? I don’t understand the question. Can you reword it? Or maybe write it down so I can see it?” Bruce asked.

“Oh my God.” You groaned. “I thought you were the smart one.”

“Ouch. Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being mean to me?” Bruce asked Peter.

“I’m not his girlfriend because we weren’t engaging in sexual activity because we’re not dating. Everyone got that?” You asked angrily.

“Got it.” Wanda nodded.

“No, sorry. Still confused. So you are dating but Vision didn’t catch you guys doing it?” Bruce asked so genuinely that you wanted to scream.

“No, he definitely did.” Wanda snorted. You looked at her in betrayal and she smiled apologetically.

“Oh. Now I get it. You guys are dating and Vision did catch you having sex.” Bruch realized. “But what are we not telling Tony?”

“No one is telling Mr. Stark anything. Everyone just keep your mouth shut about the activities, which may or may not have been sexual in nature, that Vision allegedly walked in on. Okay?” Peter exclaimed.

“My lips are sealed.” Wanda assured you. “Well, now they are. Because I already told Steve and Nat. But that was before you asked me not to tell anyone.”

“Oh my God. Find. Can we trust you?” You asked Bruce.

“I’m not gonna rat. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” Peter nodded. “You’re dismissed.”

“I don’t take orders from you.” Bruce snapped and walked away.

“Jesus Christ.” Peter whispered and felt genuinely offended by the tone. You took his hand and brought him away from Wanda to regroup.

“We need to get ahead of this before anyone else finds out we’re secretly dating.” You told him.

“You guys are secretly dating?” Sam asked as he came into the hallway, making you both jump.

“Damn it!” Peter shouted and hit the wall.

“Oh great. Captain fucking America knows now.” You grumbled.

“Since when are you two a thing?” Sam laughed and looked between you and Peter.

“Two months.” You admitted.

“Two months? And Tony still doesn’t know?”

“Do you think Peter would be alive right now if my dad knew?” You asked and gestured to Peter.

“That’s a joke, right?” Peter laughed nervously.

“I guess not.” Sam shrugged.

“Are you gonna tell my dad?” You asked him.

“No.” Sam replied.

“Cool. Thanks.” You sighed in relief.

“But only if-“

“Mother fucker.” You exclaimed now that there was a new obstacle.

“Only if you promise to never bring up that one time with the TV.” Sam continued.

“You mean when you got caught-“

“Zip it.” Sam cut you off. “Or I’ll tell Daddy Warbucks about your affair with Little Orphan Annie here.”

“This whole conversation has been wildly emasculating.” Peter mumbled.

“I never saw anything.” You told Sam.

“Good.” He nodded. “Then we have a deal.”

You went to shake hands when your phone started to ring. You looked at Peter curiously and pulled it out of your pocket.

“Hang on. Hello?”

“Hey short stack. I’m landing in 20 minutes. I can see that most of the team is in the tower today so I thought we could all have a nice, family dinner in the dining room. How does that sound?” Tony asked you through the phone.

“The entire team? In the dinning room? For dinner? Tonight?” You asked as panic grew in your chest.

“Are you playing a one man game of Clue? Just let everyone know, will you?” Tony asked.

“Sure, daddy. No problem.” You laughed nervously and looked at Peter with wide eyes.

“Thanks, peach. See you soon.” Tony said before having up.

“Shit balls.” You whispered once you were off the phone.

“Was that super good news?” Peter asked hopefully.

“My dad wants the whole team in the dinning room for family dinner.” You said and held your breath for his reaction.

“Son of a…” Peter started to shout and then quieted down, “shart mama.”

“I know. It’s bad.”

“This has gotten so out of hand. I’ve never taken this many L’s in a row. I don’t know if I can take anymore. My body is shutting down. I haven’t peed all day.” Peter said as he paced back and forth.

“Keep it together.” You said as you gripped his shoulders.

“Oh no. This is going to be so awkward.” Sam laughed at your misfortune.

“Why? Because everyone knows we’re secretly dating except for Mr. Stark and they also know Mr. Stark will kill them for knowing and not telling him right away so tonight will be a long, uncomfortable game of who tells him first?” Peter asked all in one breath.

“Yes, that’s exactly why.” Sam nodded and looked at Peter strangely.

“I don’t want to go.” Peter whispered and turned to you.

“We all have to go.” You told him. “He’ll get sus if we’re not all there.”

“But what if your dad kills me?” Peter whined.

“Then I’ll wait at least three months before getting a new boyfriend.” You smiled sweetly and patted his chest.

“You can do that but I’ll just haunt him and kill him in his sleep.” Peter smiled back.

“Oh my God. Come on. We have to go get ready for dinner.” You said and pulled Peter to your room.

30 minutes later, everyone was seated in the dining room with Tony at the head of the table. You and Peter nervously peered through the doorway to see what the set up was.

“What’s our plan?” Peter asked you.

“Sit far away from each other and diverge the conversation every time my dad gets close to happening upon the truth.”

“Okay. How hard can that be? We never get together for family dinner. They’ll all be talking so much that you and I won’t even come up.”

You and Peter took your seats at the table with you next to your dad and Peter further away. You made eye contact with Peter and nodded to let him know that you were in this together. Everyone stayed dead silent as the food was passed around and Tony was quick to notice.

“Why is everyone so quiet? Did Sam leave porn on the big TV again?” Tony asked as he chewed his food. You gulped and looked at Peter in a panic. You had been wrong about everyone talking and keeping the attention away from you. Instead, everyone was silent and tense since they didn’t want to be the one to let Tony know what Vision had seen.

“That was one time.” Sam defended.

“But how could we ever forget?” Tony teased him.

“I just wanted to watch Mama Mia. My eyes were burned.” Bucky said as he shut his eyes to keep out the memory.

“Let it go.” Sam said flatly.

“I don’t remember that.” You said robotically. Sam gave you a discreet thumbs up across the table.

“What? You were the one that found it.” Tony reminded you.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. I think you’re all remembering incorrectly.” You said with no much stiffness it sounded like you were reading from a prompter. Tony looked around the table and everyone avoided eye contact with him. They mindlessly pushed their food around their plates to look busy so that Tony wouldn’t ask them anything.

“Why is everyone acting weird?” Tony asked.

“What? We’re not. You’re being weird, dad.” You forced a laugh and patted Tony’s arm.

“Right.” Tony said skeptically. “So, Pete the treat. Any romantic interests at school?”

Everyone turned to stare at Peter, who was in the middle of taking a sip from his glass. Peter started choking on his water for a long time. No one made any effort to help Peter so he just sat there choking for an uncomfortably long period of time. Everyone stayed silent as he Peter coughed, turned red, and clapped his chest to try and get the water out. When he was finally done, he was crying and bright red.

“What?” Peter asked horsely.

“Peter doesn’t want to talk about girls, dad.” You laughed nervously. Everyone exchanged looks while also sneaking glances at you and Peter.

“He does with me. Come on. My dad never bothered with this stuff and I want to break the cycle. Tell me about your love life.” Tony insisted and playfully patted the table. You shot daggers at Peter and everyone turned to look at him. Peter felt sweat dripping down his forehead and smiled nervously.

“There’s no one, Mr. Stark. No girls.”

“I don’t buy that for a second. I can see the hormones brewing in your eyes. You’re sweating just at the thought of her. I know there’s a girl.”

“Maybe.” Peter squeaked out.

“See? I knew it. Tell me about her. She cute?” Tony asked. Peter looked at you for a brief second and quickly looked away.

“Yeah, yeah. She’s gorgeous. Really pretty.”

“She’s all right.” Sam shrugged, making everyone stifle a laugh as your jaw dropped.

“Fuck did you just say?” Peter snapped.

“I was kidding. Damn.” Sam held up his hands in defense.

“Damn, indeed.” Tony laughed. “Way to stand up for your girl, kid. She’s a lucky lady.”

“Thank you, sir.” Peter said and hoped that was the end of the conversation.

“You really are a good kid, Peter. I don’t tell you enough. I was just saying this to Pepper the other day, but if anyone is ever brave enough to try and date my daughter, I hope they’re like you.” Tony said sincerely. This time, you started choking as everyone murmured with amusement.

“Really?” Peter asked hopefully. He looked at you but you didn’t dare make eye contact.

“Yeah. Sure, you’re pretty annoying and way too eager at times, but you’re a good kid. You’re responsible, you care about other people, and you know how to get a decent haircut.” Tony continued.

“So you’d give Peter your blessing? If he and I ever wanted to date?” You asked skeptically.

“Absolutely not.” Tom said immediately.

“What?” Your face dropped. “But you just said-“

“I said I hope the person you date is like Peter.” Tony specified. “But Peter would never be allowed to date you.”

“Why not?” Peter asked and you shot him a look. Everyone else kept their heads down and turned away from Tony so he wouldn’t suspect anything.

“Not that I care. Psh. Peter is lame. I would never date Peter. Haha. But yeah, why not?” You asked your dad.

“Because he’s a superhero. And no daughter of mine is dating a superhero.”

“But you’re a superhero.” You pointed out. “And mom married you.”

“I know. That’s why I’d never allow you to go down the same path. I’ve missed hundreds dates, thousands of calls, and a million important moments because I was off being a superhero. I was saving the world but I was hurting the person I love most in the process. I don’t want that life for you. If Peter was an average guy off the street, I’d be thrilled to know you were dating him. But Peter isn’t average.”

“I know that.” You replied, starting to get annoyed now that your dad was trying to tell you that you couldn’t do something. You were already doing it, but he didn’t need to know that. He needed to know that he couldn’t make your choices for you.

“Ayo. Yeah she does.” Sam snorted. Everyone gasped and looked at him, making him freeze. You and Peter stared daggers at Sam who smiled sheepishly.

“Oops?”

“You little bitch.” You mouthed across the table at him. Tom noticed the way everyone reacted and grew suspicious. He looked at you and noticed you weren’t making eye contact. He then looked at Peter, who looked like he was about to pass out.

“What was that?” Tony asked Sam.

“Nothing.” Sam scoffed and went back to eating.

“Samuel. Tell me what you just said.” Tony said with an eerily calm smile.

“I don’t want to.” Sam whispered.

“Tell me or I will shove your wings so far up your ass-“

“I said she knows Peter isn’t average.” Sam admitted before Tony could finish his sentence. You buried your face in your hands while Peter chewed off all of his fingernails.

“What does that mean?” Tony asked and turned to you.

“I can confirm that as well.” Vision raised his finger as he spoke up. You and Peter looked at Vision in betrayal while everyone else stayed silent.

“Oh my God.” You whispered and rubbed your face.

“What? What’s the big red giant talking about?” Tony asked you again, sounding angry this time. Before you had a chance to think of something, Vision spoke up.

“I’m talking about how I accidentally caught them fornicating earlier today, sir. Also, am I required to be here? I can’t actually eat food.” Vision said politely. Everyone was dead silent as Tony processed what he was hearing. No one dared to look up from their plates or even move a muscle.

“You know what? Vision is right. We should actually all leave. And never return. Bye!” You said and got up from the table. Tony grabbed the back of your shirt and made you sit back down.

“Nobody move.” He said in a low voice. Silence fell over the table again as Tony slowly looked to Peter. That’s when he noticed that Peter had passed out and had his limp head in his dinner plate.

“Wake the son of a bitch up.” Tony ordered. Wanda lifted Peters head by his hair and a green bean stuck to his cheek and forehead.

“Peter?” Tony asked, but Peter didn’t wake up. Wanda shook him, then took his pulse to see if he was even alive.

“He’s unresponsive.” She reported.

“Jesus Christ.” You groaned to yourself as you watched Wanda and Steve try to wake Peter up.

“He peed his pants.” Steve announced, making you groan even louder.

“PETER!” Tony shouted as he banged on the table. Peter woke up and looked around in confusion. Tony slowly stood up and leaned over the table while staring daggers at Peter.

“Somebody tell me what’s going on.” Tony demanded. No one said anything, so you bit the bullet and stood up as well.

“Dad, Peter and I are dating. Vision caught us before and the whole team found out about it. That’s what’s going on, okay? Please, don’t kill my boyfriend.”

“What?” Tony asked as he slumped back in his seat. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or upset, but it was definitely not good.

“Sam was watching porn on the big screen!” You blurted and pointed to Sam.

“You said you didn’t see anything!” Sam pointed back at you.

“That was before you didn’t hold up your end of the deal!” You shouted.

“Shut up, both of you. Are you kidding me right now? You’re dating Peter Parker?” Tony asked in a calmer voice.

“Yes, daddy. I am. I have been for two months. We didn’t tell you because we knew you’d be mad and we just wanted some time together before you forced us apart. I wouldn’t normally lie to you like this but I knew you’d never allow us to be together and I love him. I just needed to love him for as long as I could before the world knew. I’m sorry. Please, don’t be mad at me.” You said as you took your dads hands. Tony stared at you for a long time and finally, put his hand on your cheek.

“I could never be mad at you, princess.” Tony said kindly. You smiled in surprise as Peter let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m gonna turn Peter inside out, though.” Tony said sweetly before lunging at Peter. He punched Peter right in the throat, making Peter collapse to the ground. You rushed to Peters side as Tony shook out his hand.

“Dad! You can’t hit him that hard. He’s only 5’8. He could’ve died.” You yelled at Tony as you pulled Peters head into your lap.

“That didn’t even hurt.” Peter wheezed out as he clutched his throat. Tony wound up to hit Peter again, but stopped when he saw something that surprised him. He watched Peter reached up and touch your face as he whispered to you that everything was going to be all right. He thought he had just been punched in the throat and was awaiting the punishment of a lifetime, his priority was to comfort you when you were upset. Tony then knelt down beside Peter and helped him sit up.

“I’m sorry, kid. I should not have hit you. It was a slight overreaction.” Tony sincerely apologized.

“Slight?” Peter croaked out.

“I just wasn’t expecting to come home to this news. But if it’s been two months and my daughter says she’s this in love, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.”

“Mr. Stark, I know it’s probably hard to think about your daughter dating someone with a life as unpredictable as ours, but I don’t put anything above her. If I’m out on patrol, chances are, she’s hanging out on a rooftop with a walkie talkie telling me where to go. If I have to miss a date to take care of something, I take her with me. She’s my partner in all of this. I don’t leave her waiting around for a text back all night. She comes first.”

“Actually, “Vision began, “when I entered your room, it seemed as though Peter was going-“

“Do not finish that sentence, jumbo tampon.” You cut him off.

“You can trust me, Mr. Stark. You can trust us.” Peter said as he wrapped an arm around you. Tony looked between the two of you for a while but didn’t say anything.

“Please, daddy.” You whispered. Tony finally caved and smiled softly.

“Okay. You’ve convinced me. I’m not gonna kill Peter. You have my blessing, underoos.” Tony said as he helped Peter off the floor.

“Really? You’re not gonna force us apart?” You asked hopefully as you wrapped your arm around Peters.

“I’m not.” Tony confirmed. “You’re old enough to make your own decisions. But if he breaks your heart, he’s getting turned inside out. At least for a day. I cannot compromise on that.”

“Deal!” You clapped your hands before hugging your dad.

“Hold up, do I get a say in that deal?” Peter questioned.

“Don’t push your luck, kid. After what Vision walked in on you doing with Tony’s kid, you’re lucky to be alive right now.” Bruce said as he patted Peter on the back. Tony frowned as he pulled out of the hug.

“Hold on, what exactly did Vision walk in on?” Tony asked. Peter motioned for everyone to keep their mouths shut as Tony looked around the room. When no one answered him, he looked at you expectingly.

“So.” You laughed nervously. “Dessert, anyone?”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr @loudthoughts-softspoken

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| Baby Mine ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader || Bucky x y/n

Summary: Bucky comes home from from a mission and finds you sick. You make an appointment at the medical bay expecting a routine visit only to find out some pretty surprising news.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, minor talk of options pertaining to, morning sickness, a disgusting amount of fluff, and a small sprinkle of spice at the end just because I felt like it.

Word Count: 3323

A/Ns: First and foremost, I would like to apologize for my hiatus. It was not intended and I hit a writers block. With that being said, I do have a decent amount in my drafts and have been working on getting some new things out there!

I would like to say a special thank you to @lil-darhk who gave me some encouraging words that I really needed to hear & helped get me back on here. ♥️

This is a ONE SHOT. This is not part of my BBWWS. I am still working on that but this is something I have been thinking of for a while and just felt like writing about. I know that a pregnancy troupe is not for everyone. (Personally, I love it and I'm not sure if I will write it into my other storyline.) SO because of that....I give you this. I hope you all enjoy it because the idea of Daddy Bucky to me is just 🤌🏻💋

Waking up to the smell of fresh ground coffee was always a tall tale sign of Bucky being home. Missions can be unpredictable. He can be gone for a few days, to a few weeks, and sometimes even months at a time. Luckily, this time he had only been gone about a month and a half.

Excitement took over as you forego your usual procrastinating in bed stretch to run out of the bedroom. Opening the door, the aroma was heavenly- as if a coffee shop had replaced your kitchen overnight. But your eyes immediately fixed on Bucky who was wearing a smirk while plating two separate stacks of pancakes.

“Breakfast, doll?” His voice as smooth as the warm syrup flowing down from those pancake stacks.

Running and jumping to wrap your arms around his neck was your response. Bucky chuckled, holding both arms out wider so he didn’t drop the plates. He put them down gently onto the counter so that his arms would now be only consumed with you.

“I missed you too.” You don’t have to look up from being buried in his chest to know that he’s smiling, it’s in the lighthearted tone of his voice.

Leaning back slightly with his arms still holding you, he looks into your eyes and plants a petal soft kiss on your lips.

“How come you didn’t wake me up when you got in?” You frown slightly looking up at him.

He shakes his head slightly and shrugs, “You just looked so… peaceful. I couldn’t bare to wake you up. At least, not without sustenance,” Bucky laughs.

Shifting your eyes from Bucky to the pancakes and back, your lips tug in each corner. “Smart man.”

His cooking always felt like home. It was filling, delicious, and you could almost taste the love it was made it with. “Mm,” the small noise escapes low in your throat as you take the last bite. Looking across the kitchen table, Bucky is slumped in his chair, arms folded with a warm smile as he watches you. “What?” The question comes out as a half joke and half concern.

Shaking his head slightly the smile grew. “Nothing, doll. Just missed you is all.” Leaning forward, Bucky rests his elbows on the table continuing to stare a tad bit more than normal.

“You’re acting weird.” You say, adjusting in your seat feeling slightly awkward.

“So what have you been up to while I was away?” He completely ignored your statement, asking an easy and lighthearted question.

“Um..” you start, breakfast starting to feel suddenly heavy in your stomach. “I uh-“ your teeth start to clench down as you swallow hard at the pooling saliva in your mouth. “I went out with Nat-“ your brows furrowed, starting to have difficulty with getting the words out. Bucky’s face quickly contorts to concern as you continue to fight the inevitable. “and her sister for some…s-some drinks-“ the word makes you gag.

Almost as if you channeled some super soldier serum, you pushed back from the table and ran- praying that the pressure of your hand over your mouth will be enough insurance to get to the toilet. It barely was. Breakfast came back up violently, loudly as you kneeled in front of the porcelain king. Even when you thought there couldn’t possibly be anything else to throw up, your stomach wrung on itself, forcing up every last drop of bile.

Breathing heavily into the bowl, skin now glistening with cooling sweat, you realize that your hair has been pulled out of your face. Your eyesight, now no longer blurry, sees Bucky sitting next to you; his right hand holding your hair back in a make shift ponytail and his left hand on the nape of your neck, the coolness of his metal hand being your favorite thing in the world at the moment.

“I’m sorry…” your sob echoed lightly in the toilet. “I’ve never been hung over like this before,” you sit back on your knees, grabbing some tissues to wipe your mouth. You bring yourself to look up at him through hooded and puffy red eyes, feeling instantly embarrassed. Bucky gives you a small reassuring smile as his hand gently rubs up and down your back.

“I���ve had the Russians drink me under the table a few times too. C’mon…” He helps you off of the floor, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

A warm bath, some fresh comfy clothes and a plain cup of tea seemed to make the nausea subside.

“I knew I shouldn’t have drank last night,” you say, looking into the lightly steaming mug. “My stomach hasn’t felt right in a few weeks. I actually have an appointment this afternoon in the medical bay, but I didn’t know you would be home. I can cancel it-”

“What time is your appointment?” He cuts you off,

“Um,” you look towards the wall and squint at the clock. “Actually in 45 minutes,” you laugh softly at the realization.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He offers.

“And miss your debriefing? Why, Sargent Barnes, that’s highly unlike you.” Even with not feeling great you can’t help but give him shit. This is the normal

Shaking his head softly he lets out a small laugh. “Alright,” he puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture, “but call me if anything comes up, okay? I’m worried about you.” Bucky’s voice is soft and sincere as he leans in and plants a small kiss on your forehead. His eyes hesitate, locking on yours for a moment. Leaning back in, he presses his lips to yours. “I love you. So much,”

“Love you more, Bucky.” You smile back up at him.

Sitting on the exam table in nothing but a medical gown, you swing your legs gently back and forth while gently nibbling the tip of your thumb as you wait for the provider.

You jump at the sudden knock at the door. In walks the new physicians assistant for The Compound, a young and beautiful woman who looked like she was straight out of school.

“Hi! My names Bree and I’ll be working with you today. According to the nurse who did your intake, you’re here for-“ she scrolls through your electronic chart on a tablet, “some abdominal issues. Tell me about that,” she sits down on a stool, listening intently.

“It’s.. really not a big deal,” you start, she keeps quiet waiting for you to explain in more detail. “I don’t know,” you start to fumble with a few loose strands of hair. “I’ve just felt this sort of… heaviness? It hasn’t gone away and is just always sort of there?” Your voice is unsure, feeling self conscious as you describe this silly little symptom that you felt the need to make an appointment for. “This morning I got sick. Well, I went out drinking last night, so I’m assuming I’m a little hung over.” Your words start to sound like your rambling.

“Hmm,” Bree says in response. “When was your last period?”

“Um,” the gears start turning in your head as you try to backdate events, plans that had been interrupted because of aunt flow. “About 4 months ago?” It probably wasn’t on purpose, but you could see the clinicians eyebrow raise a centimeter in question. “It’s not what you think!” You quickly try to defend, “I’m on the pill! My periods have always been irregular which is part of the reason I’m on birth control in the first place.”

“Okay,” she responds, skeptical. “And you take the pill religiously?”

“Yes,”

“Everyday?”

“Yeah…”

“At the same time?” Bree’s eyebrow inclines just a little more.

“Well,” now she has you questioning everything that you’ve said. “I always have an alarm on my phone and try to take it the same time everyday.” That makes you feel better, justified.

“Have you been sick recently? Aside from this morning, any need for any prescriptions, antibiotics?”

“I had bronchitis, but that was… god months ago?”

“Okay,” she says flatly, “so we’ll just go ahead and do a minor work up to see if we can figure out what’s going on. The first thing I want to do though, is a pregnancy test.” Even though you could feel your face change, Bree quickly added, “Routine stuff. It’s one of the bases that we always cover early on.”

You suddenly become hyper focused on the urine sample you left on the counter top, as asked by the nurse. Bree takes out a small, flat test from a nearby drawer and uses a pipette to transfer the fluid.

It could have been 30 seconds or 20 minutes, but the idea that pregnancy was even a remote possibility has your insides feeling like they’re folding in on themselves.

“Okay so,” Bree starts, getting your attention. “The test did in fact, come out positive. Since your cycles have been irregular, I’d like to do an ultrasound to see how far along you are and then we can talk about options. Just go ahead and lay back on the table, feet in the stirrups.”

"Positive?" You repeat. "But... What? How?" It comes out breathless.

"Well, sometimes antibiotics can actually cancel out the effects of birth control. We try to advise women to not be sexually active as the body might seize the opportunity to ovulate and result in an unplanned pregnancy. How about we just take a look and go from there, okay?" Bree says just a little too cheerfully as she pats the stirrups.

Following her directions is the only thing you’re able to focus on. Going through the motions of laying down, putting your feet up and opening your legs. Bree’s voice is a murmur mixed with a high pitch ringing as you look up at the ceiling tiles, counting each spect while she sets up the portable sono machine.

“Just a little pressure,” she says, guiding the wand like probe, looking at the screen. “Okay. So, judging from the size… I’d say you’re close to about 9 weeks, give or take a bit. Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” She asks, sweetly. And it’s the first time you’re able to look at her since lying down. Bree patiently waits for your answer with a warm smile. You reluctantly nod your head.

The room fills with soft, muffled whooshing. “It’s so fast. I-is that okay? Is everything okay?” You’re searching her face for any hint of something being wrong. In return, Bree just nods gently as she keeps her smile, still examining the screen.

“A fetus’ heartbeat is a lot quicker than ours. Everything looks perfect actually. Would you… like to see?”

“Yes, please.” You didn't hesitate with your answer this time.

The screen gets tilted towards you and your eyes start darting all around looking for the baby. Your baby. At first you don't see anything. It doesn't look like photos you've seen on Instagram of pregnancy announcements. But then, in the middle of what looks like a black balloon, is a bean with limbs. In the center of this bean is a lively flicker. Bree uses her index finger to point to the screen.

"There's the fetus' arms and legs," she points to the extremities, "and here," her finger gently taps on the pulsing center, "is the heart."

The whooshing matches the pace of the flicker; lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. Hearing the heartbeat in synch with the pulsing on the screen causes your own heartbeat to match for a moment.

So this is love.

After a moment, Bree removes the probe and rips a paper from the ultrasound machine. "Here's some pictures for you," she hands them to you as you sit up on the bed. "I want to see you back here in three weeks for another check up... unless you want to discuss other options?" You shake your head. "Do you have any questions for me?"

“No, not right now.” You’re solely focused on the pictures now in your hand. Even though the image is burned into your brain, holding a physical copy has some how made it more real.

The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind. There was no possible way that you’re actually pregnant. Even with the new noticeable symptoms and bathroom counter littered in double pink lined tests, it still seemed so unbelievable. That’s not even the hardest part. How am I going to tell Bucky?

Just as the reality starts to set in of having to tell the other adult who is directly involved, the front door to the apartment opens.

"Hey, doll!" Bucky calls loudly from the hallway, the thumping of his boots following his voice. "Sorry that the meeting ran late. I figured we could order in tonight. What about that Thai place you like?" He waits for a response while buzzing around the kitchen, no doubt making himself coffee for the dozenth time today. "Doll?" The question echoes through the quiet apartment.

"I'm in here," you acknowledge softly from the living room couch. Bucky pokes his head out from the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief.

"There you are," he starts walking towards you. "If you tell me what you would like for dinner, I'll call it in and then-" his voice and steps stop abruptly. "Hey... you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." You answer, obviously distracted.

"That doesn't sound too convincing," Bucky hesitated, looking you over and taking a few steps closer.

"I-I have to tell you something." Your tone is soft, scared. You’re fidgeting with the edges of your sweater sleeves.

“Is it something the doctor said?” His voice is softer now, reluctant and afraid. While his piercing, cerulean blue eyes continue to search yours for the answer, wide and terrified.

“I-“

Should I have gotten balloons? Made him open a box with one of the pregnancy tests or a cute onesie inside? Bake a damn cake?

“Y/n?!” Bucky didn’t yell but definitely had to get your attention. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?!” He pleaded. Why were the words so difficult to say? Maybe because it hasn’t been said out loud yet. Or that it’s still so shocking. Or maybe that verbalizing it will just make it that more real. You turn on your heels and run to the bathroom.

“Y/n!!” He calls after you, but you know he’ll be just a few steps behind.

Picking up a handful of the positive tests off of the vanity counter with your heartbeat pounding in your ears in combination with his heavy footsteps getting closer.

“Seriously! What is going on-“ Bucky is flustered as he steps into the entryway and stops abruptly at the sight of you facing him, holding the tests fanned out.

“I’m pregnant.” There it is. You’re holding your breath, waiting to see what he’ll say. Aside from contraceptives, you’ve never had any kind of discussions pertaining to a family.

His face softens as he takes a step forward, his eyes hyper fixated on all the double pink lines. Bucky’s chest rises and falls deeply now. “You’re… pregnant? Not sick?” He asks to clarify, being cautious.

“Morning sickness, apparently”, a small laugh escapes and it surprises you. “But other than that, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

The ‘we’re’ part catches his attention. He’s looking into your eyes once again, searching. But, for what?

“Is this… something you want? With… me?” He suddenly sounds so adolescent and anxious. Who can blame him? This took you both completely by surprise. Knowing Bucky, he would support you in whatever you wanted. Whatever decision you thought was best for you, your body, your health in every aspect, he would respect and advocate for. He is being cautious with his response to the news until he knows what your decision is.

Putting the tests down, you take both of his hands into yours and take a deep breath.

“Bucky, if you had asked me this morning, I wouldn’t have known what our future would hold. But knowing what I know now… I want this baby. I want to be a mom and for us to be a family. That being said, I know that this is something that we never talked about. If this isn’t something you want, I underst-“

You’re suddenly cut off by his lips pressing into yours. It feels like a weight has been lifted as Bucky’s arms gently wrap around you to bring you closer. Kissing becomes increasingly difficult around giggles and the obnoxiously big smiles you’re both wearing.

When your lips finally part, Bucky’s eyebrows are raised in excitement. His eyes are darting around your torso as if the news would suddenly show physical changes on your body.

“I can’t believe it…” he breathes, “I actually get the chance to be a Dad-” The word comes out almost as a choked sob. My heart.

Reaching into your back pocket, you pull out the ultrasound Bree had given to you earlier, holding it up for him to see.

"Look, our baby's first photo!"

Bucky takes the picture as gently as if someone were handing him an actual newborn baby. He just stares, probably confused as to what he was looking at similarly to you just a few hours ago.

"I know it doesn't really look like anything right now- but I go back in a few weeks and-"

"Are you kidding?" He looks up from the black and white photo to meet your eyes, a watery sheen coating his own. "This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life." Bucky says softly, as if to himself, looking back down at the picture. And he's smiling. A genuine, heartfelt smile.

That night was the closest he had ever held you in his arms. The two of you made up for lost conversations and started planning for your future and what it held as you laid in bed. Bucky talked about how he wanted to build a crib instead of buying one and was curious what the appropriate amount of time was to wait until you could both start telling everyone. Excitement was an understatement for this man.

"Can I go with you to your next appointment?" He asked, in a hopeful tone as his fingers traced along smooth, soft circles around your belly button. You giggle, wincing at one specific caress.

"Hey! That tickles! But, of course you can. You can come to all of them. I was... kinda hoping you would?" In return, your tone holds the same anticipation.

"I wouldn't miss it." Bucky's palm flattens against your belly as he places a kiss against your temple.

"Don't get used to that," You say looking down. "We're going to start growing and getting bigger any day now." You fake a frown, although there is a small part of you that isn't necessarily faking.

"Hmm." A low hum vibrates from the back of Bucky's throat as he shifts his body down along yours.

His fingertips skim the hem of your sleep shirt before pulling it up and exposing your stomach. The coolness of the air makes your abdomen tighten, but is soon replaced with petal soft kisses. "When you say 'grow', I hope you mean grow more beautiful by the day." Each firm press of his lips feels like its igniting your skin on fire with the newfound sensitivity. Your toes start to dig down into the mattress.

"Because, y/n..." Bucky repositions himself onto his knees, one now conveniently pressed in-between your legs. The pressure alone makes your heart rate spike and has you borderline panting. He hovers over you, "There isn't anything in this world I find more beautiful or more attractive than my girl carrying my child." He holds your gaze, intense and primal- more than you've ever seen.

"Do you understand?" Bucky asks with a raised brow. You nod hastily and he grins in response. "Good girl. Now, let's see if those rumors about hyper sensitivity are true. Judging by how you're writhing under me and the wet spot on my knee... I'm really going to enjoy the next few months."

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist! Requests are open!

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @skyf-7

[bunnys-kisses]

jailbird (3)

prisoner!simon "ghost" riley

the series master-list

cw: (former) prisoner!simon, civilian!reader, smut & fluff, dom!reader, sub!simon, gentle sex, size kink, pregnant!reader, wife kink

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own!

you rubbed your back as you cooked up some breakfast. you then yawned into you fist. it was hard giving up coffee for the sake of your unborn baby, but simon promised that when your son was born, he'd buy you the fanciest coffee at the supermarket.

it had been over a year since simon got out of prison, and now you two were expecting your first child. right now he was the size of an avocado and simon couldn't help but put his hands on the small bump.

"mornin', love." he said as he came up behind you and his hands on the bump. his hair was a mess and his large tattoos hands were on your hips, "bacon for me?"

"it's turkey bacon. less fat." you reminded him.

he grumbled, "not as good." then leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, "how did you sleep." his hands linked under your bump as he held it gently.

you flipped the bacon and focused your attention on the eggs in another pan. you felt a shift of your child in your womb, "it was alright. i think i'm getting used to your snoring."

he kissed you again and grumbled, "i'm sorry."

you chuckled, "I don't mind. either you've gotten quieter or i'm just used to it." you tilted your head up and kissed him on the lips briefly, "if you can get the toast ready that would be great."

"anythin' for ya." he said as he pulled away and went to make some toast for the both of you. it was domestic, it was quiet. a woman and her much larger, tattooed ex-convict of a boyfriend.

-

simon called you his wife often, despite never actually being married. you didn't mind it. you shared a home were building a family, but you often wondered if you would ever get married. you were never keen on a huge celebration, but something would be nice. regardless you were his missus.

regardless of your pregnant size, he handled you with ease. there were times where he'd simply guide your hips as you rode him. he was he one in control. you held onto him and moaned as you felt his cock press up into you.

"beautiful wife." he smirked as he kissed your face.

you wondered if it was possible for to control the pace. to have your boyfriend give up control and let you work his body? while your bdsm together was short lived, he stopped any rough play when you announced you were pregnant, you wondered if the roles could be reversed? the tiny girlfriend in control of her beefy, scary boyfriend.

it was a rather arousing thought. to watch simon squirm while you made sure he was taken care of. it didn't have to be vicious or rough, which would make simon happy (for your sake), but tender and slow. you rubbed your thighs together while seated at your work desk, you had to focus on work! not on your boyfriend's cock inside of you.

you leaned back in your desk chair and rubbed your swollen middle as you gazed at the spreadsheet you had been working on. simon gave you the gift of your first born child, you believed it was time to repay him for it.

-

"simon." you said as you were curled up with him on the couch. simon's head was in your lap and his legs were hanging off the couch. you were running your fingers through his short blond hair.

"yeah, love." he said.

"i want to ask you about something."

he lifted his head and looked at you, he looked at your curiously. for a brief moment he was worried that he had done something wrong. but a closer study of your face revealed that you weren't upset with him, which settled him down. he simply said with a kiss on your bump, "ask away."

"i was wondering, if maybe... i can take charge when we have sex? just for tonight. i know you like being in charge, but i thought it could spice things up with anything too intense."

he said gruffly, "i don't want ya puttin' strain on yourself." as his broad hand rubbed your middle, "worried you'll get tired out."

you reached down and cupped his face, "well, then if i get tired then you can take over... it wouldn't hurt to try." you smiled, "i think it'll be fun."

simon learned very early on that he could never say no to his girl. he simply pressed his cheek back on your bump and rubbed it. he said, "alright, but don't push yourself too hard."

he lingered closely during dinner, his hands on your hips as he watched you make dinner. he was in charge of chopping vegetables, but when he wasn't, his hands were on you. he wanted to be close to his wife.

even though very few thought of him as a gentleman, the way he sat you down on the couch after dinner so he could wash the dishes of your dinner left you feeling pink.

when he came back to you however, he held out his hand. you took it and he helped you up off the couch. he stared down at you for a moment and you reached out for him. you framed his face in your hands and leaned up to kiss him.

"i'm fine."

once in the bedroom, he marveled at your body as you started to undress. he shirt was already off as he sat at the edge of the bed, ready to help you if you needed it. but you shooed his hands away. he admired the slope of your pregnant belly and the heaviness of your breasts. you had a figure his admired, a lil pregnancy fat to keep you and the babe warm.

"you're staring."

"can't i?" he asked, "i made you this way. my girl carryin' my kid. i think you look hotter now than before." he smiled.

you gave him a look as you got your underwear off, you stood there in front of him, naked with your hands at your hips. you said, "so you're into milfs?"

he shrugged, "only when i'm the ones who 'em a mama." he reached out for you and you went into his arms. he pressed his face against your bump and sighed, his cock twitched in his pants.

you petted his soft hair and felt him place kisses against your swollen middle. he had taken to being a father the way a fish takes to swimming. after a little worship to your belly, you nudged him at his shoulders.

"lie down."

he looked up at you and laid down. he watched you work as you got his pants and underwear off. his cock stood at full attention and you could already feel the heft of it inside of you. it made your stomach flutter.

there laid your convict boyfriend, the man who was in prison for some time. he was laid out on the bed you shared while you tried to straddle his waist. he made you his girl, and you made him a better man.

"gonna be comfy like that?"

"this is about you, simon." you tapped his nose, "the goal is to make you cum." then trailed your finger down his neck and across his chest that was littered with tattoos.

he held onto your hand and placed it on his cheek, "i know... but i still want you to have a good time, love." he kissed your wrist before he placed both hands on your hips.

"hey!" you smacked his hand away, "my job."

"sorry." he said softly. he was a hardened man, he often scared people. but with you, he was so supportive and loving. he adored you the way plants adored the sun.

he watched you with careful eyes, they felt heated on your warm flesh as you tried to move yourself (with the bump not helping). it took everything in him not to do it himself. but he had to trust you.

you slowly sank on his cock and pressed your chin to your chest as you exhaled deeply. you noticed that simon was holding onto the covers tighter. you said softly, "trust me."

"yes, love." he said softly, he tensed up when you started to roll your hips. you hand one hand on his chest for leverage and the other on your swollen middle as you moved your hips against him.,

"holy shit, love." he groaned.

"see, a wife knows how to please her husband." you replied before you smacked his hands away from you, "no. stay still." there was a bit of a command to your tone.

he liked it.

he continued to hold the sheets as you moved up and down on his length. his breathing got heavy as you started to really put work into riding his cock. he watched your breasts and belly bounce like a hypnotized man.

he made you this way. he never thought when he was in prison that he'd have a woman in his life that was carrying his child. he watched to reach out and worship your bump. but for the time being he'd just have to play the thoughts over in his head.

part of him wondered if he was still a bad man. maybe there should've been more time between when you met in person and your pregnancy. but you were happy. happy with him, of your situation.

he tried to move but you kept him pinned by the shoulders. you were without words as you rode him, all you could do was shake your head. he groaned and leaned back into the bed.

"please, love. let me touch you. i want to touch my wife." he was almost begging.

you pushed hair out of your hair and looked down at him. your hands were on his shoulders to give yourself more leverage. you moaned, "okay... but be good."

quickly his hands were on your hips and he rubbed your love handles. you felt so good under his touch, it made his brain buzz. what the hell did he do to deserve an angel such as yourself.

"like it, simon?"

he nodded, "you're doing great. my girl." his voice was practically a purr.

you continued to ride him. you felt hot all over but you held onto him. you tried to be sexy about your thrusts. but the burn in your soul to get to climax forced you to bounce on his cock.

simon's eyes were transfixed on your body as it moved. his cock ached, as did his balls. he bred you so good, he didn't know what he did in a previous life to deserve this.

warmth pumped through your bodies as you fucked. it felt so good, and the angle made your core ache. it wasn't long before you felt the curl of orgasm in your gut.

you placed his hands and yours on your bump as you moved on his cock. your moans filled the air of your bedroom. your mind became hazy and your thrusts were disorganized. you came first by holding his hands, your cunt clenched around his cock. and as you continued to ride him until he finished as well.

"shit."

"simon."

he laid sprawled out next to you for a moment to catch his breath. by the time he calmed down, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your face. he could feel your bare belly bump up against his abdomen. he felt relaxed against you.

he said quietly, as he assumed that you were dozing off in the after glow of pleasure, "you'll get your ring soon. just gotta find the right time to pop the question." his voice was a low rumble.

but you were still awake and safe in his arms. when he mentioned a ring your heart skipped a beat. you stayed still for a moment and let him bask in your love. soon you'd be his wife, for real.

the question was, where was the ring? <3

[beefcakekinard]

top 5 times tommy kinard was husband-shaped

turns out i've got opinions about this.

5. attending a cowboy funeral (8x05)

you don't watch your beboiled boyfriend give a eulogy to a 200-year-old cowboy mummy in a full suit if you're not in it for the long haul. this is a show of commitment on the same level as promise rings.

4. getting that coffee (7x05)

who but a future husband would look at buck like this after being caught in the blast radius of his self-destruction on a first date?

3. bringing buck breakfast 'in bed' (8x05)

8x05 gave and gave and gave with acts of service tommy. you just know he set his alarm early enough so he knew he'd be up before buck, and he set his phone to vibrate so buck wouldn't hear it. he spoils his man and i love to see it.

2. taking care of buck (8x05)

fluffing his pillow (not a euphemism). changing his ice pack. sleeping on the couch with the smallest blanket in the world just so he'd be right there in case buck needed something in the middle of the night. related to the last entry, but disinct enough to deserve its own mention.

1. the loft dinner (7x10)

look. this is it for me. this is the moment that made me go oh. he is husband-shaped. i think this moment in particular gets overlooked because it immediately precedes tommy giving buck the green light to call him daddy, but look how soft he is! how concerned and caring - how attentive, to notice that buck was feeling off! this moment is unbeatable to me, but if the writers want to take that as a challenge, well, i certainly won't stop them.

[meowmeowriley]

Simon was not a morning person.

Johnny was.

He'd never have guessed it, Soap and Ghost were up at the crack of dawn on base, barking orders at their men and running themselves just as ragged. Had he never followed Ghost home for leave, he could've lived his entire life not knowing that tiny personal detail. Johnny had come to realize that perhaps some of Ghost's hard-ass personality came from him being grumpy after waking up too early.

That first morning in Simon's flat Johnny had gotten up before the sun, same as he did on base. He brewed coffee and waited for a bit, waiting for Simon to rise, but the other man hadn't moved from the heap of limbs and duvet he had contorted himself into in the bed. Johnny went for a run and returned and still no movement from Simon.

Eventually, at nearly noon, Simon sauntered out of his room and into the kitchen, duvet cocooning him. If Soap drew a very tired caterpillar and a butterfly with a skull mask in his journal later that day, that was between himself and God.

The second day Johnny made the mistake of attempting to wake him. He rose, but he was gruff, short tempered, and as the two went for a run together passers by gave them a wide berth, as Simon's glare could curdle milk.

The third day was when Johnny happened upon a stroke of pure genius. He woke Simon as he rose, unintentionally, and earned himself a few choice words that he couldn't discern as they were vehemently growled into a pillow. Johnny brewed his coffee, boiled Simon's tea, retrieved a packet of biscuits from the cabinet, and left it all on the table in the living room. He then returned to his sulking boyfriend, who hadn't yet gone back to sleep.

"Up, c'mon, tea's gonna get cold."

Simon grumbled and rolled to face him, squinting like a displeased cat. Later, a disgruntled black cat with a white face, flicking it's tail would be drawn below the butterfly. Any relation to real world events was purely coincidental.

"I'll carry ya if I have to." Johnny meant it as a tease.

"Like you're gonna carry my heavy ass." Simon rolled his eyes.

Johnny was never one to back down from a challenge, and scooped the larger man up from the bed, holding him bridal style. He didn't even try to keep himself from laughing at Simon's indignant squawk.

He carried him, blanket and all, to the couch and deposited him before his breakfast, which he promptly handed over. He noticed, later, that Simon didn't glare quite so hard at the old birds power walking the opposite way they'd been running that day.

The next day he carried Simon over his shoulder, the next fireman's carry, and the day after Simon wrapped himself around Johnny's front.

His favorite, and it seemed to be Simon's favorite too as he kept positioning himself for it every time after, had been when he'd turned away from the bed to glance out the window, and Simon had risen of his own accord. He draped himself across Johnny's back, wrapping the blanket around them both and nuzzling into Johnny's neck.

John had reached back, one arm up to thread his fingers through Simon's bedhead, and the other down, so that he could pinch Simon's ass, earning him a nip to his carotid.

Laughing, Johnny had slapped gently at Simon's thigh, "Up, I still have to make your tea.

Simon dutifully lifted that leg and then climbed up, arms bracketing Johnny's head, legs secure around his navel, and chin nestled into Johnny's mussed up mohawk. The man fit there perfectly.

From that day on, Johnny carried his overgrown koala of a boyfriend around the flat as he carried out his morning routine of keeping them both caffinated and fed.

Even after returning to base, and hiding Simon and Johnny away behind Ghost and Soap, Ghost would find Soap in the rec room and climb up to wait for his breakfast.

No one dared question the Lieutenant's slight change in behavior, as they enjoyed not having their heads ripped off.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Chosen p.t 2 || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader love island au

Summary: read part one here

Warnings: angst

Word count: 1,173

A/n: help i forgot i had this in my queue LOL mb!!!

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, Rafe’s absence a hollow ache beside you. You’d grown used to the warmth of his arm around you, the gentle rise and fall of his chest that lulled you to sleep each night. Without him, the bed felt colder, lonelier, and you couldn’t shake the memory of Kayla’s confident words as she chose him, as if she held a secret you didn’t.

Leah rubbed your arm in comfort, her eyes softening. “Yeah, must be tough after last night. The whole situation was shit. I don’t know what Kayla was thinking.” You managed a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Neither do I, honestly. Rafe said there was nothing to worry about, but then she just… picked him. It just doesn’t make sense.”

You caught Sofia’s gaze, and she gave you a small, reassuring nod. “Maybe it’s not as deep as it seems,” she offered. “Maybe she just picked him because he looks good on paper—he’s confident, attractive, all that. She probably just wanted attention.” You nodded, trying to take comfort in her words, but the unease still simmered.

You nodded, trying to find comfort in her words, but the uncertainty still twisted inside you. Rafe had reassured you last night, had looked you in the eyes and held your hand with that steady, familiar touch that always made you feel seen. But now, with the memory of Kayla confidently choosing him and the doubt simmering beneath, it was harder to trust that feeling.

Leah’s voice broke the silence, softer now. “Have you talked to him about it?” You sighed, closing your eyes briefly as if that might ease the knot in your chest. “He tried last night. But I… I couldn’t. I was too hurt, too angry. I didn’t even know if I could believe him.”

Sofia’s hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I think he’s probably feeling the same, People make decisions that don’t always make sense because they’re worried about what everyone thinks.” You leaned your head back, closing your eyes for a moment as you tried to steady your breathing.

Maybe they were right—maybe it was all just the game getting in your head, Kayla’s pick a calculated move, an attempt to create drama or stir things up. But the memory of Rafe looking away as Sophie announced your single status felt too raw to ignore.

~

Later that morning, as you sat in the makeup room, humming softly to yourself as you applied your skincare, a knock sounded at the door. The other girls exchanged glances, then called out, “Yeah, we’re dressed!” The door creaked open, and Rafe peeked in, his gaze instantly landing on you. He lingered in the doorway, holding a tray with coffee and breakfast.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his expression somewhere between hopeful and tentative. “Brought you breakfast.“ You blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. “Thanks,” you replied softly, surprised at how sincere he looked, how he seemed to truly want to make up for the night before. He set the tray down beside you and took a step back, as if unsure whether he should stay.

“Could we… talk?” he asked, his gaze flickering to the other girls, who quickly exchanged sympathetic glances. Leah gave you a small nod, then ushered everyone else out with a quiet, “Alright, let’s go, girls.” You sent her a grateful look as they slipped out, leaving you alone with Rafe.“Can I sit?” he asked, watching you closely, his eyes searching for any sign of welcome.

You nodded, and he pulled up a chair, watching you as you took a sip of coffee. It was exactly how you liked it, and that little detail twisted something in your chest. Neither of you spoke for a moment, the silence thick with unspoken words. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to meet your eyes.

“I need you to believe me,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I swear, I didn’t think she’d actually pick me. I thought I’d made it clear I wasn’t interested.” You looked away, biting down on the emotions that threatened to spill over. “Rafe, you don’t understand. You were there, comforting me, telling me everything was fine… and then she chose you. It felt like a slap in the face.”

He nodded, his expression pained. “I know. And I’m so sorry. I tried to make it clear to her, but I should’ve done more. I shouldn’t have let her think there was even a chance. I just… I don’t want to lose you over this.” For the first time, his words began to chip away at your hurt. His eyes held that raw sincerity, the vulnerability that he rarely let anyone see.

And as much as you wanted to cling to the anger, to shield yourself from the fear of being hurt again, a part of you knew he was being honest. You bit your lip, studying his face as he spoke, trying to gauge his sincerity. He looked back at you, a hint of desperation in his gaze that you couldn’t ignore. “You have to believe me,” he continued, voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want anyone else. It’s just you.”

Your shoulders relaxed, the anger ebbing slightly, though the doubt was still there. “Okay, Rafe,” you said finally, your tone soft but uncertain. “But actions speak louder than words. If you really mean it, you’ll have to prove it.” He nodded earnestly, relief flickering in his eyes as he reached for your hand.

“I will,” he promised. “I’ll prove it every single day if I have to. Just… give me a chance.” You nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, then smiled—a genuine, soft smile that reminded you of all the moments that had made you fall for him in the first place. “Finish your breakfast,” he murmured, nodding toward the tray. “I’ll be right here.”

[leahwllmsn]

here, always

alexia putellas x reader

a/n: a bit late but happy halloween :0

Your routine was the same. You would wake up, get ready, and get to work. This time, you woke up with a headache and the claims from your friends that you had been missing for a month.

You woke up with a headache. That was the first thing you noticed. That, and the blaring ray of sunlight from the window. You must've forgotten to close the blinds last night.

When you sat up, the headache became even worse and you squeezed your eyes shut in pain. You placed your feet on the floor and slowly got up. You tried your best to ignore the pounding in your head as you made your way into the kitchen. 

Passing by the clock in the living room, you saw that it was half past eight, which is great, because your work starts at eight. On the dot. 

You stepped in the kitchen and began to open each drawer, hoping you'd spot the painkillers–you forgot which drawer they were in. You let out a sigh when you finally spot them, taking one and drinking it without the help of water. You knew the relief wouldn’t be instant, but still, you were annoyed when the headache didn't seem to lessen.

You took a deep breath and got ready for work. It was going to be a long day ahead.

—

You got off the train at your stop, walking the route that you knew by heart.

Up the stairs. Turn left. Right. Pass a coffee shop.

Left. Go straight. Pass by a florist—

A florist.

The smell of the fresh flowers made your heart skip a beat, because it reminded you of Alexia. The colourful array of flowers made you think of her and her gorgeous smile. You decided to get her flowers. You knew how happy it made her every time.

You bought a bouquet of roses. Simple, but it was perfect for Alexia. She had always talked about how if she were to be a flower, she'd be roses, and you wholeheartedly agree. Alexia had grace and joy like pink roses. Her passion in everything she did: orange roses. And despite being so passionate, she had an innocence to her that made her seem oh so sweet–white roses. Lastly, red roses, to represent your love for her.

You smiled to yourself, one hand holding Alexia's flowers, and the other in your pocket. You had a feeling it was going to be a good day.

—

You opened the door to an empty office. There were four desks and two doors, one that led to the head physio’s office and the other that went to the pantry.

As you put your bag on your desk, you heard laughter from behind the door. Your colleagues must be having breakfast.

You walked to the pantry and you were met with some of your friends. However, their reaction wasn't the usual. They stopped whatever they were doing, hands midair, mouth agape. They looked ...confused? Shocked, even. It was like they were seeing a ghost. Even Alexia wasn’t giving you her usual ear-splitting grin at the sight of you. You weren't sure why.

"Hi, Ale, these are for you." You gave her the bouquet of roses you bought earlier.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she got up, slowly outstretching her hands and taking the flowers. "Y/N..." she whispered. "These are lovely. Thank you."

You smiled, satisfied. Anything for Alexia. You could sense that she was about to say something else, so you stayed silent, waiting for her to go on.

"Mi amor…" she started. It seemed like she had trouble expressing what she wanted to say.

Ingrid seemed to sense the same thing, as she went up and stood next to Alexia. She then said something unfathomable, you thought you heard wrong. "You've been gone for a month."

"What?"

"We didn't know where you were." Alexia spoke up, softly as if she was scared that if she spoke too loud, it might make you disappear again. Which was insane, because you hadn’t gone anywhere.

You had been right here all along. Right?

"No... that doesn't make sense. I was with you just last night, Ale."

Alexia opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. She was at a loss for words. So were you.

Ingrid cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brows. "What date was it yesterday? Do you remember?"

"October 31."

"Well," Mapi joined in on the conversation, scratching her head. "You're right, but you weren't here, Y/N."

You gaped at her, "What do you mean I wasn't here? I was. Right, Alexia? Tell her."

But Alexia just stood there, not saying anything.

"Baby, please." you pleaded.

You looked at them and they were looking wistfully at you, as if you really had gone missing and this was the first time they were seeing you in a month. But that didn’t make sense.

"Amor," Alexia walked closer to you, touching your forearms. Her touch was so light and soft, always the same as you remembered. "I wasn't with you last night."

"When was the last time you saw me?" You directed your question at your friends.

"One month ago," Ingrid answered.

"That's not possible." It really wasn't. "I... I have no memory of going anywhere for a month."

"We were really worried," Alexia sighed, walking closer to you. You knew for a fact that you hadn't disappeared, but why do you have this feeling of… of longing and yearning for her deep in your heart?

"We searched everywhere," Mapi continued. "We couldn't find you."

"I've been right here all along! I don't know what else to tell you guys." You couldn't believe them. It was hard to accept the fact that you disappeared, because you didn't.

"What was the last thing you remembered?" 

You looked at her, your sweet Alexia. Alexia whose existence brought so much warmth to your life. You wouldn't know what to do if the roles were reversed and she was the one who ‘disappeared’. You didn't think you could take it.

"I had dinner with you, at that Italian place you liked," you answered, taking her hand in yours and holding it tightly. "You dropped me off at home because you were going to stay with Alba for the night... I received a text goodnight from you, then I replied and went to bed."

Alexia gave a grim smile, "That was a month ago, amor. And you didn't text me back."

"No... no that was last night." You were getting incredibly frustrated.

Mapi seemed to notice your frustration as she cleared her throat, "I think we should leave Y/N so she can process all this."

What? I didn't think I wanted to be alone at a time like this.

They all nodded and were about to leave the room when I grabbed Alexia's arm, "Can you stay with me?"

Alexia smiled, "Of course."

Ingrid and Mapi gave you a reassuring smile and went to leave the room. Then, it was just you and Alexia. She grabbed your hand and you sat down, your hands interlocking perfectly on the table.

"My love," she started. "I know this is hard, but you have to learn to accept things."

You raised your eyebrow at her, "What do you mean? I don’t get it, Ale. My head’s been killing me all morning."

She shrugged. "Just... trust us."

"I don't understand. Is this about my disappearance?"

She smiled… almost sadly? "In a way."

"So I really did disappear?"

She nodded. "You did."

"Where did I go?"

She looked at me and chuckled, "I think you should be asking yourself this question, not me."

You were still confused about this whole thing. It was like your world had turned upside down. "But... how? Why?"

She shrugged again, "I wish I knew. We spent a long time searching for you. You were gone."

Were you experiencing a severe memory loss? Was that it? Was that the reason you couldn't remember anything?

You doubted it, though. You remember what date it was yesterday, and you weren’t in the hospital. Everything was normal.

Everything seemed normal... Until this talk with Alexia. Something was up. Her words were vague... as if it had a hidden meaning. You didn't like it.

As you were about to tell Alexia that none of this felt real, you saw something outside the window. It was... a bird? A black bird. You didn't think it meant anything, even though it felt odd to you.

You let out a big sigh. This wasn't how you imagined your day to go at all. You didn't have the energy to do anything else, but you needed to look for clues as to why this whole thing was happening.

So you got up and left for your desk. Everything seemed normal.

Just like how it was yesterday. Not one month ago.

You sighed, it still didn't make sense. You looked around the room, your co-workers were on their respective desks, typing away on their computers.

Weird.

They hadn’t mentioned anything to you. It was as if your disappearance wasn't a big deal. Shouldn't it be a big deal if your colleague went missing? 

"Hey," you whispered to the girl sitting next to you. Surprisingly, it was Ingrid. Why was she even on the computer? "What are you doing?"

Ingrid turned her head towards you, "I'm doing the weekly report."

You scratched your head. “Why aren’t you on the field? You’re not a physio, you shouldn’t be here.” 

Ingrid simply shrugged and the confusion must be written across your face because she scooted her chair to be closer to you. "Is everything ok?" 

"I don't know, I feel weird,” you decided to be honest. "Like something is off."

And even though Ingrid was smiling, her face looked sad. Why was the atmosphere so sorrowful somehow?

"Well... Maybe you should figure it out."

"Figure what?"

"Figure it out," Ingrid replied like it was obvious. "I know you remember."

"I don't."

"You do. Think, Y/N."

You were about to question her further when your hand brushed the mouse of your computer, causing your computer to light up. The background was a picture of you and Alexia. You realised it was taken at that Italian restaurant that night. Yesterday. Or, one month ago?

As you squinted at the picture, you saw that you had a ring on your left hand—

Wait.

A ring. Alexia gave you that ring.

You looked at your hand now and the ring wasn't there.

A ring... You had that because…

Oh my God.

You stood up suddenly, because you realised that Alexia proposed to you that night. And you said yes. You did. Then you took this picture.

But where was your ring now?

"I'm gonna head home for a bit."

Everyone lifted their heads up and looked at you questioningly. Alexia spoke up, you didn’t even realise she was still in the room. "Are you okay, amor?"

You smiled, walked over to her side and kissed her cheek. "Yeah, I just need to look for something."

"Okay, we'll see you later then."

"See you."

And with that you left.

–

Once you opened the door to your apartment, you stood for a good minute, trying to take it all in. You looked around, attempting to see if something was different. You didn't notice it at first, but the couch in your living room was blue. Blue. You would never choose that colour for a couch. That was weird.

You sat down and faced the TV. The couch was the same as it had always been, just a different colour. You didn't know what was going on but you swore the couch wasn’t blue yesterday.

You turned to the left, where a small table resided beside the couch. It had a framed picture of Alexia that you took one summer. That was the same.

You got up, going forward to the TV and looked around the shelves. Everything was the same. It was all the same—

Until you saw it. 

You caught a glimpse of something colourful on the kitchen island. It was a vase full of flowers. They were definitely not there this morning. Did someone break into your home? That seemed to be a plausible explanation. But with the way your day was going, anything seemed possible.

You looked at the flowers and there was a note attached to it.

Y/N,

We're always here for you. Please don't forget.

- Ingrid & Mapi

That was... odd.

There was no way they sent that this morning? They did have the keys to your apartment... but they were at the training grounds this morning with you. There was no way they gave the keys to the delivery guy.

You thought about calling Ingrid or Mapi to ask about the flowers, but you decided against it. You should focus on your task in finding your engagement ring.

You left the kitchen and went to your bedroom.

Everything was still the same there. Your bed was in the middle of the room, with a nightstand next to it that had a lamp and framed picture of you and Alexia. 

You opened the drawer of your nightstand but there was nothing except for a pink post-it. 

hi :-)

I love you

meet me at our usual Italian place at 6?

It was scribbled in Alexia’s neat handwriting. Your heart swelled remembering she left you this note along with fresh lilies–your favourite flowers. 

Yesterday.

Or was it a month ago? You didn’t know if you should trust your memory or your friends’.

You decided to go look in the walk-in closet. You walked inside and looked around, deciding to go to the left side, searching through your jewellery drawer. If anything, a ring should be there right?

But all you found were a bunch of rings you collected over time, not the ring Alexia proposed to you with.

You turned to the opposite side and you saw the section that was usually filled with Alexia’s hoodies was empty. This wasn’t possible, because it wasn’t like this yesterday.

Before Alexia moved in, she would usually spend a night or two and she would leave behind a hoodie. She did that often enough that you could fill up a space in the closet just for her hoodies. When she moved in, she didn’t have any hoodies left from her place because it was already all at your apartment.

But none of them were here anymore.

Suddenly, a shiver went up your spine and an odd feeling settled at the pit of your stomach. It was as if… you could remember why that rack was empty now… but it was like your brain didn’t want you to remember and you ended up with a blank memory.

You tried to shrug it off, but it was futile. The feeling stayed there, making you uncomfortable even in your own home. You decided to call Alexia. Talking to her always made you feel better.

As always, she picked up on the first ring. “Hola, amor.”

“Hi, Ale.”

“Are you okay?”

“Well, considering all the things that have happened so far and it’s not even noon, not really.”

“I’m sorry, I know this must be confusing for you.”

“But I feel better now that I get to hear your voice.”

“Always the charming one, aren’t you?”

“It’s a fact. Even with all this nonsense that’s happening, I still have you, so I’m all good.”

“About that…”

“What?”

“I love you, amor. I always will. I want you to know that.”

“I do. Of course I do know that, Ale.”

“Even if I’m not here, I still want you to be okay.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hypothetically speaking.”

“Was it really?”

“Why did you call me again?”

“Are you changing the subject?”

“No...”

“Don’t change the subject. What did you mean by that?”

“Y/N…”

“Everyone has been speaking as if their words contain a double meaning and it’s frustrating. Just tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“About this whole thing! I don’t know what else to do, Alexia. I tried looking for my engagement ring but I couldn’t find it anywhere. Just tell me what you know about why this is happening to me… Why is there a one month gap in my memory?”

“I’m not here.”

“What?”

“I’m not here, Y/N.”

“Alexia, what the hell are you talking about?”

“That night, the 31st of October. It really was one month ago. It wasn’t yesterday.”

“Are you saying I have amnesia?”

“No. I’m saying that you have to remember.”

“I can’t! God, if I could, I wouldn’t be stressed out like this!”

“I’ll help you. What time did we meet?”

“Six.”

“See, you remember.”

“Ale, I don’t see your point here. Of course I remember that night. It was yesterday.”

“Bear with me. What did we eat that night?”

“Italian.”

“Yup. We shared a pan of pizza—the one with pepperoni, my favourite.”

“I know.”

“What did I do that night?”

“Seriously? I don’t know why you’re asking all this.”

“I told you, to help you remember. This is the last one, I promise. What did I do that night?”

“You proposed.”

“I did. …It was the happiest moment of my life, you know? You, saying yes. I was nervous the whole night and I had this whole speech planned. Then you came and you looked so, so beautiful. Mi vida. You’d think that with all the years we spent together, I’d get used to how stunning you are.”

“Alexia…”

“I think I’ve always known that you would say yes if I proposed. You were never really subtle with your hints. But still, I was nervous. God, I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. When it was time to do it, the speech that I had been rehearsing in my head? It just flew out of the window. I was a stuttering mess and my words were all over the place. Yet, you still said yes.”

“Of course I did. I love you, Ale.”

“And I love you too. Always. You chose to be with me for the rest of my life, but things never turn out the way we want them to be, huh?”

“Alexia… You’re scaring me.”

“You’re going to remember now, and when you do, make the choice that you think is right, okay? I can’t make that choice for you, you have to decide on your own. Whatever it is that you’re going to choose, just know that I’ll always be there for you.”

—

31 October 2023

19:58

“Y/N L/N,” Alexia held your hand on the table, staring into your eyes. “I want to spend forever with you.”

Wait. Was she…?

“I can’t remember my speech,” she gave a nervous laugh. “It was a good one, I swear. But I guess I have to improvise now.”

You looked at her expectantly, your heart racing at the possibility of what she was about to do.

“You’re my soulmate, Y/N. I don’t… I don’t want anyone else but you. You’re it for me. You make me laugh, you make me cry sometimes,” she gave a lighthearted laugh and you rolled your eyes at her, a tear escaping to your cheek. “You make me so happy. I’m so crazy for you.”

She squeezed your hand and reached into the pocket of her blazer. She pulled out a black box and you gasped.

Oh my god.

She opened up the box and it revealed a ring inside. The ring was simple, just how you liked it. It was a silver band and a round diamond was placed on the centre.

You looked at her, back at the ring, and back at her—not quite believing it yet.

“Y/N,” Alexia continued. “I-I promise to love you with everything in me until my dying breath. I will love you the way you deserve to be loved—fearlessly, passionately and gently all at once.”

“Alexia…” you looked at her, tears freely falling down your face now. “If this is you improvising, I don’t know if I can handle your actual speech.”

She laughed and gave you a bashful smile. “Will you marry me? I’m proposing, in case that wasn’t obvious.”

You smiled at her, a huge ear-splitting grin.  “Of course I will, Alexia. You’re the love of my life.”

Alexia looked at you with wide eyes, as if she was still trying to process your words.

“Aren’t you supposed to put the finger on my ring now?”

Alexia wiped a tear that escaped her eye and laughed. “Yeah. Yeah. I just—you really… You said ‘yes’ right?”

You leaned forward and captured her lips in yours. “I did, you dummy. It will always be ‘yes’.”

—

ale: I love you

y/n: I love you too, so much

y/n: drive safe, okay? text me when you get there

ale: will do

—

“It never came.”

“You remember now?”

“Your text… it never came. I spent hours waiting for your text, and I was dumb enough to just sit there and do nothing, when I knew it would only take you ten minutes to get to Alba’s.”

“It’s not your fault. It never was.”

“But… but you’re here. On the phone with me. I can hear your voice, Alexia.”

“I’m here, but I’m not really here.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You can either stay here with me or leave. That’s the choice you have to make.”

“I don’t understand… What do you mean?”

“Just two simple choices, baby. Stay here with me or leave.”

“If I leave here, where would I go?”

“You know the answer to that. You’re smart.”

…

“So what’s your choice?”

“…I’m staying.”

“You’re staying?”

“I am. I’ll go wherever you are, Alexia, you know that.”

“I know… but I thought that…”

“I know you said that you’ll always be there for me for whichever choice I make, but why do I have a feeling that won’t be the case if I choose to leave?”

“Well, I could mean it in a metaphorical sense.”

“I don’t want metaphors, I want you. Always. I thought you knew that when you proposed to me.”

“Mi amor… I love you.”

“And I love you. Why does it seem like you don’t want me to stay?”

“Because… I know that it’s not the best choice for you.”

“I know what’s best for me. And that’s to stay. It’s final, I’m staying.”

“Okay. Meet me at our usual spot in the park in 20 minutes?”

“I’ll be there.”

—

1 November 2024

21:47

“Babe? Visiting hour is almost over.”

Ingrid turns to the source of the voice and sees her fiancé standing at the doorway. She nods and gives a melancholic smile. “We do this all the time, but it never gets easier. Why is that? Leaving her here, I mean.”

Mapi gulps and takes a step forward to Ingrid and to… you.

“I don’t want to leave her here, María.” Ingrid sighs.

Once Mapi is at the foot of the bed, she braces herself and looks up—towards the girl occupying the bed.

Mapi has always stared at anything but you. It’s been a year since that night, since everything fell apart, and Mapi misses you a lot.

You’re staring back at her, but she knows that you’re not seeing her. 

That’s mostly why she hates looking at you. You, sick, pale-faced, and all alone in this hospital bed. Just a reminder that you’re not here with her anymore.

Because although you’re still here physically, every time Mapi stares into your eyes, it just shows that your mind is not—your blank stare confirming that you’re no longer emotionally present. 

Mapi tears her eyes away from you and blinks back her tears. Ingrid’s right, it never gets easier.

Mapi clears her throat. “We should go.”

Ingrid looks at Mapi sympathetically. She knows how tough it is to lose not one, but two of their closest friends all in a snap. 

Ingrid turns to you and stands up. She leans forward and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “We’re going to go now, okay love?”

As always, there’s no answer.

“We’ll be back next month, don’t worry.”

Ingrid gulps and tries her hardest to not let out a cry right then and there, but the shakiness in her voice betrayed her. “We hope you’re better the next time we see you… Mapi and I are getting married soon, I just want you there next to us.”

“Ingrid…” Mapi walks over and stands next to Ingrid, squeezing her hand.

Ingrid wipes a tear that manages to escape. “I’m fine. And Y/N will be fine too.”

“She will.” Mapi whispers, looking at you, her voice wavering slightly. Mapi doesn’t know whether to believe her own words or not.

Mapi takes your hand with her free one and squeezes it, silently hoping that you can feel her touch, wherever you are, and that you can hear Mapi's silent plea for you to come back to reality.

Ingrid leans down and kisses your forehead. “Sleep tight, Y/N. We miss you so much.”

Ingrid steps back to give Mapi a chance to say her goodbyes. 

Mapi holds the railing on the side of the bed and squats down so she is speaking directly to your ears. “Y/N… I know how much you love her, and I can’t imagine how painful it is that she’s not here anymore, but you have to come back to us. You have to…” Mapi trails off, her chest heaving with unshed sobs.

Ingrid places her hands on Mapi’s shoulder, slowly bringing her up. “Hey, come here,” Ingrid whispers, wrapping her fiancé in her embrace. “We’ll try again next month.”

Mapi sighs against Ingrid’s shoulder. “I know it must be tough, losing the love of your life—I don’t even want to imagine losing you,” Mapi leans back and takes another deep breath. “But it’s been too long. Where is she? I just want our friend back.”

Ingrid smiles regretfully. “We can’t force her to snap out of it if she doesn’t want to, my love.”

“Then what do we do?”

“We’ll be patient and wait for her here.”

“What if she won’t…” Mapi whispers, as if she’s afraid to speak those words. “What if she won't come back?”

“Then we let her go,” Ingrid places both her hands on Mapi’s cheeks, caressing them softly. “If that’s her choice, then we have to respect it.”

Mapi nods slowly. “I know. I just don’t know why that’s the choice she’s making.”

Ingrid shrugs. “Maybe she sees Alexia, wherever she is.”

“You think so?”

“Who knows?” Ingrid questions back.

Mapi lifts her hands up and places them over Ingrid’s. “I hope she’s happy then.”

“If Alexia is there, she’ll be happy.” Ingrid smiles wistfully. She turns her hands around, intertwining them with Mapi’s. “C’mon, let’s go. Don’t want to miss our flight.”

Mapi lets Ingrid drag her out of the room. She pauses just at the doorway and turns around to look at you one more time. You have your eyes closed now and Mapi can swear that she sees a faint smile gracing your lips. 

Mapi can’t help but smile back. Maybe you’re with Alexia after all.

—

You arrived at the park exactly 20 minutes after your phone call with Alexia. She was there, at your bench, looking out at the lake.

You walked towards her and sat down, your shoulders brushing.

“You stayed.” Alexia stated.

You looked at her. Your beautiful Alexia. Her eyebrows were furrowed slightly, her lips pursed. “I did.”

She sighed and turned to look at you, staring at you with those eyes. “You have to be the one who decides, not me.”

You looked at her questioningly.

She turned back towards the lake. “There’s nothing I can do.”

You were confused. “Are you not happy with my decision?”

“I’m always happy to be with you, amor. You’re the love of my life.”

“Then?”

“You can’t blame me for being sad too, because of what the implications of you being here means.”

What was she even talking about?

Before you got the chance to ask, Alexia continued, “Let’s enjoy this moment,” she grabbed your hand in hers, stroking it softly. “It may be selfish of me, but I’m glad I get to spend another day with you.”

“What?” you still couldn't understand her. Alexia was being so vague. “I’m here, of course you get to spend the day with me. We have tomorrow, too. And the day after that. And so on. Until forever.”

“Sure, baby.” She smiled, although still not looking at me. “Until forever.”

You smiled back at her and placed a soft peck on her cheek, laying your head on her shoulder as you stared into the lake with her. It was a nice day, the sun was shining, although not too brightly—just perfect. The wind was a light breeze and you scooted closer to Alexia every time it blew.

“I love you, Ale.” you whispered. You really did and you wanted her to know it. If you could let her know every second of every day, you would.

The reply didn’t come in an instant, but it eventually did. “I love you, too.” You could feel her placing a kiss on the top of your head. “And it’s only because I love you that I hope you choose differently next time.”

—

a/n: let me know your thoughts!👻

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 15 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You want a field trip to North Island for your class, and Bradley is determined to deliver. He loves how you decide to show him some gratitude. He'd love it even more if you stayed and never left.

Warnings: Fluff, language, unprotected sex, oral sex, smut, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley's alarm really pissed him off on Thursday morning. First of all, it went off an hour earlier than it usually did. And second, he had been sound asleep with your body tucked right up against him and his fingers laced with yours. When you began to stir as well, he kissed your ear and started to pull away from you. 

"I'm sorry, Baby," he murmured, voice laced with sleep and something intimate that he never remembered treating anyone else to. "Go back to sleep."

You rolled over so you were facing him, and your lips found his immediately. You kissed him softly as your fingers pulled through his hair, and he wanted more than anything to stay here with you all day. "I can't go back to sleep," you whispered. "Not when I get to spend a few extra minutes with you."

In the very short time you and he had been officially in a relationship, he had let himself indulge in the idea that you'd be around forever. That you wouldn't change your mind about him. That you'd love him and let him love you back, like equal partners. And right now all he wanted to do was keep holding you while he also couldn't wait to get to work and try to start sweet talking his superior officers.

"I can't be late today, Gorgeous. Not if I'm going to try my best to make a field trip for your class happen."

Your eyes lit up and you squeaked softly. "You're right. Get the fuck out of here."

He laughed and then groaned. "It shouldn't be sexy when you have a potty mouth." He gave you one long kiss before finally pulling away so he could get ready for work.

"I'll make you breakfast," you whispered, climbing out of bed completely naked before reaching for his discarded sweatshirt on the floor. It was yours now in his mind, and he couldn't wait until it and you were both permanent fixtures in his bedroom. That was going to have to wait a bit though unless you brought it up first. He'd already dropped the idea that he wanted to marry you in front of your class.

"You don't need to make me anything," he said as he started to pull on his clean flight suit, but you were already walking out of the room. 

Bradley finished getting ready as quickly as he could in your tiny bathroom, and when he made his way to your equally miniscule kitchen with his overnight bag, you were spreading cream cheese on a bagel and filling a purple travel mug that said #1 Teacher with coffee. "I'll see you tomorrow night?" he asked before taking a bite out of the bagel when you held it up for him.

"I mean... yes, I'll come right to your house from work tomorrow, but you'll see me before that." When he raised an eyebrow while he chewed, you shrugged and added, "I was planning on sending you a dirty picture while I get dressed."

Now both of his eyebrows were raised. "Yeah? How dirty we talking?"

All you said in response was, "I trust you to keep my job intact," before you kissed him and ushered him toward your door with his breakfast. "Go to work, and you'll find out soon. I love you."

"I love you, too, Gorgeous."

He would never get enough of your pretty face. He thought about it while he fought traffic going into San Diego and while crossing the bay bridge toward North Island. This drive sucked, but he'd do it every morning if it meant he got to spend the night in your bed with you. He also wanted to ask you to sleep over at his place during the week so you could test out traffic heading north.

When he finally parked on base, he didn't have to imagine your face any longer. He got to look at it in the picture you sent him twenty minutes ago. Along with your tits. Exchanging photos had always been a huge part of getting to know you while he was deployed, and he was delighted to find that the tradition continued.

"Oh my god," he groaned, needing to sit in his Bronco for a few extra minutes while he enjoyed the photo before ultimately saving it to his phone. Then he texted you back with a smirk before heading to the locker room.

Damn, Gorgeous. What I wouldn't give to spend a week in bed with that face and those tits.

Of course a honeymoon would be the perfect opportunity for that sort of thing. He dropped his bag off in his locker and made his way out to the hangar, running his hand over his face as he tried to push that thought to the back of his mind. As soon as he spotted Maverick, he made a beeline in his direction.

"Rooster," he greeted, barely glancing up from the clipboard he was holding. Bradley knew it was such a longshot, but he had to just go for it at this point.

"Hey, Mav, you have a minute?"He glanced up over his aviators and said, "Always. What can I do for you?" Bradley cleared his throat and tried to make sure he sounded as relaxed as possible. "

I was wondering if a fourth grade class could visit base for a field trip one day? Do a tour of the hangars and the tarmac? Maybe sit in a cockpit? Just an educational trip for some kids who are studying aviation."

There was a brief pause before Maverick asked, "Are you sleeping with a teacher?"

Bradley groaned, head tipped back as he rubbed his eyes and tried not to laugh. "Yeah. She's my girlfriend though, so it's a bit more involved than that."

Maverick sighed. "If I give you special permission for this, then everyone is going to want me to do the same for them. You know that." Bradley started nodding in defeat when Maverick took his sunglasses off and asked, "How many kids are we talking?"

"Eighteen," he replied immediately, straightening his back like he was standing at attention.

"Which school?"

"Mira Mesa Elementary."

Maverick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let me see what I can do. Now get your helmet on and get to work."

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

You were finishing your lunch at your desk, about to send Bradley a text, when your phone rang in your hand. He was calling you in the middle of the day which was definitely odd.

"Bradley."

"Hey, Gorgeous," came his voice along with a ton of background noise. "Any chance you can bring your class for a field trip next week?"

Surely you misheard.

"Next week? You already got it approved?"

"Yeah." The deep, raspy rumble of his voice made you shiver. "Next Thursday work for you?"

You were on your feet, doing a little dance as you said, "You got it approved! I'll make it work. I'll type up permission slips right now. I'll call everyone's legal guardian tonight if I have to. We'll be there!"

"Perfect. Email me your complete class list so I can get visitor badges printed."

"Okay," you told him, glancing around like you didn't know where to start. "Right."

"I love you, Baby. Talk later."

He ended the call without another word, and you tucked your phone away before running a lap around your classroom. You wanted to go gloat to all of the other fourth grade teachers, but you wouldn't. You were absolutely certain that this only worked out because you were in a relationship with Bradley, so instead you got to work on the permission slips.

By Friday afternoon, your kids were beyond excited about their upcoming trip to North Island. You had secured eighteen permission slips, three chaperones and a school bus to take everyone down to Coronado next week. But today, you'd be driving there yourself to see Bradley. The traffic after work didn't even bother you as you drove to his house with both your overnight bag and your work bag. You had some quizzes to grade, but he promised you he didn't mind if you brought them along.

When you parked in front of his house, you grabbed your things and ran up to the front door which swung open before you could even knock.

"I just got home," he said with a laugh in his sexy khaki uniform and boots. "I was thinking about giving you a key in case you beat me here one of these days. Oh, shit."

You set your bags down just inside his front door and then had your hands tugging down his pants zipper before you leaned up to kiss him. As you pulled his cock free, you whispered, "I just wanted to thank you again."

You bunched Bradley's shirt up around his abs and dropped to your knees while the front door was still open, and he grunted before quickly closing it. "You don't have to thank me," he rasped as you kissed his cock, and he started to grow hard.

As you ran your nose along his length, you glanced up at him and asked, "You don't want me to give you a blowjob?"

His pupils were wide as he shook his head. "Could you imagine a world in which I didn't want you to give me a blowjob? Because I definitely couldn't."

You laughed and parted your lips. "Then let me say thank you, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

His big hand settled on the back of your head, giving you an eager push, and you took him deep as he groaned, "It's my pleasure, Baby. In so many ways."

He was velvety soft and warm, fully hard now, and you gagged as he bottomed out. You let your tongue glide slowly along his length until you pulled him free, saliva already dripping down to his balls. Then you took a deep breath and let him push you again, bobbing your head as your eyes watered. His balls were heavy in your hand, and your mouth watered more as you thought about tasting him.

When you looked up at his handsome face with your mouth full of his cock, he stroked your cheek with his free hand. "So gorgeous. So perfect." He was flushed pink, and you vaguely thought for a second about how funny it would be if Vanessa showed up right now to see this happening.

You let your hands settle on his hips, and you bobbed your head until he was tapping the back of your throat again. Bradley's sharp gasp just made you go harder, and his fingers digging gently into your hair made you go faster. "Fuck," he whispered, eyes glued on your lips as you let him pop free. You licked a swirl around his tip before going deep and sucking until your cheeks were hollow, and you could feel him throbbing with need.

"I'm really close," he crooned as you squeezed his hip. You listened to him panting as you stroked his balls with your thumb, and then you sputtered when he came. You swallowed him down as you wrapped your fingers around his base and jerked him off until he had his hand braced on the wall for support. Every drop of his cum was swallowed down, and you kissed his cock when he was finished.

"Come here," he whispered, reaching for you before doing anything else, and as you stood, he scooped you into his arms. His lips collided with yours, and you sighed as he tasted himself in your mouth. "That was hot."

Bradley's nose bumped yours as he kissed you harder and started to walk you further into his house. "We could always do it again later," you whispered with a laugh as you ran your fingers along the sheen of sweat along his hairline.

"I have other plans for you for later," he promised, voice deep and dark.

"Tell me," you whispered, but he shook his head.

"You'll find out after I cook dinner."

"Can I have a hint?"

He glanced to the side and nodded as you walked through the living room with him. "Another couch date. Kind of."

"I love couch dates."

"I love you."

Bradley made you a grilled cheese sandwich, and he made two for himself, and you stood in his kitchen with him while you ate and sipped a beer. He didn't even bother to finish zipping up his khakis after tucking himself away, and he kept you in his grasp as he told you all about what he wanted to share with your class during the field trip.

"I can take them on a tour of the hangar," he murmured, kissing your cheek. "Let them listen in on air traffic control. Do you think they'd want to sit in my cockpit?"

"Bradley," you said with a laugh. "Of course they would want to! I want to!"

"Yeah?" he asked, running his mustache along your neck. "Maybe you can sit on my lap in my cockpit? I could show you my throttle."

Your face felt warm as you whispered, "You'll get me a lifetime ban from North Island."

"Can't have that," he said solemnly, shaking his head. "When you're on summer break, I'm going to want you to come visit me at work all the time."

Butterflies erupted in your belly as you pictured yourself in six months. Visiting him at work would be incredible. You could stop by with a coffee like he had done for you, and maybe you could take one for Natasha as well. But you were also thinking about how he casually announced to your class that he intended to marry you in the not so distant future.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and felt the front of his unzipped pants through the fabric of your shirt. "I'm not driving back and forth to Coronado every day during my break, Bradley."

He smiled at you and said, "Understood. You can just spend the night as much as you want. I'm right by the beach, so you can sunbathe all day until I'm done working, and then I'll take you out to Salvatore's or cook dinner for you."

"Or we can just hang out on the couch," you whispered, your lips brushing his.

"Speaking of the couch..."

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

"Harder."

Your voice filled the living room along with your little grunts and moans as Bradley held your hips in place. You were bent over the arm of the couch with your ass up in the air, fingers digging into the cushions while he fucked you. For as sweet as you were, he loved you like this just as much. Loud and needy for him.

The sound of his body slapping against yours was already obscene, but if you wanted it harder, he'd let you have it. He was yours in every sense of the word, and he would make sure you knew it. "Does that feel good?" he crooned, watching your pussy grip his cock. "It looks fantastic," he grunted.

Your response was unintelligible but enthusiastic, so he kept going until he was close and your legs were shaking. The blowjob you gave him earlier seemed to take the edge off, because as soon as he started rubbing soft circles on your clit, you came for him, but he wasn't quite there yet. He slowed his pace down, let himself enjoy the feel of you shaking and squeezing him. He could have probably gone longer, but then you turned and looked up at him over your shoulder.

"That was so good," you said with a shaky voice, "I saw stars."

"Oh hell." He came inside you as you chewed on your lip and looked at him like you'd never get enough. "Come here." You stood with your back pressed against him while he was still buried deep. "You want to snuggle?"

"Always," you whispered as he peppered kisses to your shoulder. And then the two of you ended up on the couch, and it was sweet again as you curled up mostly on top of him while he drew shapes on your palm.

And that's how the whole weekend was. On Saturday, the two of you spent a few windswept hours on the beach, wrapped in a blanket together, talking and laughing. But after the sun set and the sky turned that pretty pretty color that looked both blue and orange at the same time, your lips found his.

"Gorgeous," he groaned, hands on your thighs, feeling your warmth through your jeans.

"I love you," came your immediate response, and Bradley could barely contain himself. He wanted everything with you, but he was afraid of moving any faster than this already pretty blistering pace. But even thinking about the nights this week when he'd have to fall asleep without you and wake up alone were creeping into the back of his mind.

He pressed his forehead to yours and whispered, "I love you too, Gorgeous. And I'm just going to say this one time, and then I'll let you bring it up again if you feel like it."When he paused, you said, "Okay," in a soft voice, and he took a deep breath.

"If we ever reach a point where you think you want to move in with me, that would make me very happy. You already have a key now, but if you want it to be even more permanent, I would love that."

"Oh," you gasped, and he suddenly wished he hadn't said anything about it. "My lease ends in January."

"January," he repeated, like it was a word he was unfamiliar with.

"Mmhmm. In about two months." You kissed his cheek and wrapped his hand up in yours. "That seems reasonable, don't you think?"

Bradley let you push his shoulder playfully until he was laying on his back, and then you were in his arms just like you were on the first date. "Yeah, that seems reasonable," he whispered as the sound of your soft laughter mingled with the crashing waves.

"At least give me a chance to test out the commute to work," you said with a kiss.

"I'm not in a hurry, Gorgeous. I'm just in love."

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

You didn't get home from Bradley's house on Sunday night until almost eleven, but you couldn't bring yourself to complain about it. He helped you grade your quizzes, and he read over your lesson plans like it was a bestselling novel. Then he made you a snack after dinner and went over the plans for the field trip.

"I'll take care of everything this week," he had promised. "I'll get visitor's badges for everyone, and you'll just need to go through the security checkpoints when you arrive. Your kids will have a blast. Just wait until they get to watch Marty work on an engine rebuild."

"The kids are going to lose their minds when they see your Super Hornet," you had promised. "And I will, too. I was already falling for you when you sent me the cockpit photos, and now I'm head over heels."

After that, Bradley carefully folded up your lesson plans and put them in your bag while you tried to hide your smile. And that's why you got home so late. Because the two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other for more than a minute.

But it made for a long Monday. And your Tuesday wasn't much better. By Wednesday, even the phone calls and texts with Bradley were barely enough to keep you going. You hated thinking about his next deployment, but it was always at the back of your mind. He wanted you to move in with him, but even his beautiful house in Coronado wouldn't save you from feeling devastatingly lonely the next time he was on an aircraft carrier. Nothing would.

He told you he wanted to drive up and spend the night with you on Wednesday, but he was yawning nonstop over the phone, and you knew he would have to get up earlier if he came up to your apartment. "You sound as exhausted as I feel, and I'm going to see you in the morning anyway," you told him as you curled up in your bed." Actually all nineteen of us are going to see you in the morning."

"I love my pen pals," he said with a laugh. Then he repeated your words from so many weeks ago. "Do you still want me to kiss you as soon as I see you?"

"Bradley," you moaned, rolling onto your side. You were melting, and he wasn't even here. "I always want that."

"Good, because I don't think I could... Oh shit!" he shouted, and it sounded like he dropped his phone.

"What's wrong?" you asked, jolting up in your bed. "Bradley?"

"No, no, no," came his voice, but you could tell he wasn't right next to his phone speaker. He actually sounded scared, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be going on, and then he said, "There's a fucking spider on my bedroom wall!"

"Oh," you replied, letting out the breath you'd been holding.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?! Why aren't you here?!"

"Bradley, just squish it with some paper towels," you told him, trying not to laugh at his panicked voice.

"You want me to take my eyes off this fucking thing to go to the kitchen? I don't think so!"

You pressed your lips together and composed yourself before asking, "How big is it?"

"It's huge! The size of a quarter!" he shouted. "It's moving!"

"Bradley, pick up one of your boots or a shoe and smash it," you told him as calmly as you could. "You can do this."

"Okay. Okay, right. Yeah," he said, and his voice sounded even more distant. "I can do this." There was a terribly loud thump, and then he said, "I hate this so much."

"Is it dead?" you asked cautiously.

"Yeah, but I'm too scared to sleep in here now. What if its family shows up for revenge in the middle of the night?"

You snorted and collapsed back onto your pillow. "That seems a little dramatic."

"Does it?" he asked. "Because this is something you should be taking care of for me. I'll take care of anything else, but this one thing is on you, Baby."

You started to pull your shirt off as you asked, "Would you feel better if I sent you another dirty photo?"

"I would feel a lot better if you sent me a dirty photo," he said, and now you could tell he was smiling.

"Hmm... you think you'll be able to get some sleep if I do?" you asked, tossing your shirt aside.

"A full eight hours."

You held your phone up, smiled sweetly, and snapped a picture. "Let me know when you get it," you said as you texted it to him.

A few seconds later, you giggled as he groaned. "Got it. You look like perfection, and I love adding these to my top secret folder," he muttered. "Thank you."

Now you were yawning as you pulled your sheet up to your chin. "You're welcome. I'll see you in ten hours. I love you."

"Love you, Baby."

-------------------------- You thought you were prepared for the field trip to North Island. You had bus snacks, and responsible chaperones. You had copies of all of the required paperwork that the Navy insisted you fill out ahead of time in a folder. You even had a list of all of your kids for the guard station officer which Bradley reminded you to bring. But nothing could have actually prepared you for the excitement that all nineteen of you clearly felt when the school bus pulled up to the gates with the airstrip directly in front of you.

"Whoa!" said Jayden, trying to hang out the window for a better view. "There's a jet taking off!"

All of your kids scrambled to the right side of the bus to get a better look, and you did too. The aftermath of the takeoff was loud, and you signaled for everyone to cover their ears as they all watched the aircraft soar into the sun.

"Do you think that was Lieutenant Bradshaw?" Nia asked excitedly as your heart raced.

"No," you replied as you watched the jet fly off into the distance. "He said he would meet us after we parked in the visitors lot." When the bus started moving up to the guards, you waved your hand for everyone to sit down again. "But if you're all really well behaved, I'm sure there will be some surprises for us today!"

When it was your turn to talk to the guards, you climbed out of the bus and handed over all of your paperwork. They double and triple checked everything. As they looked at your school ID and driver's license, one of them said, "This location requires top clearances. We hardly ever see field trip groups. Someone on base must really like you."

You thought about Bradley and his kisses and his couch and how he wanted you there to share his bed and always take care of the spiders. "Yeah, that's pretty accurate," you told him with a smile, and he handed you a bundle of lanyards. Hanging from each one was a visitor's pass for each of your students as well as four for you and the chaperones. "Thank you."

Even as you handed each kid their pass and told them they needed to wear them at all times, your heart raced in anticipation. They were all looking back at you with wide-eyed excitement; these were the faces of kids who had learned a lot in your classroom already this year. They were as eager to learn more about aviation today as they were months ago, and you were so happy that Bradley had been a big part of this whole experience.

As the bus driver parked, you saw your boyfriend through the window, standing tall next to the building. He was in his flight suit, and his back was ramrod straight. There were two other officers with him, and they had even more pins on their uniforms than you remembered seeing on his. You needed to reel in your expectations, especially in front of the men who you assumed were Bradley's bosses. But when you smiled, Bradley smiled back. And when you led your students down the steps and over to the sidewalk, his posture relaxed.

"Welcome to North Island," he told your kids with a grin. Then he looped one arm around your waist, pulled you close, and kissed you in front of everyone. "I can't wait to show you everything."

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

The field trip of my dreams! Okay, so we are definitely going to see Marty at work, but what else should the kids get to experience? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 16

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[moonlight-prose]

angel of the morning

a/n: about a month ago i got an idea for a threesome fic and well it has lived in the back of my head since then. and normally i wouldn't write smut with wade, but this one actually made me feral. thankfully the promptober list this year gave me the perfect opportunity to bring it to life. so i give you a filthy and fun fic brought to you not from the execs at disney, cause let's be honest this would kill them on sight.

logan promptober: day nine - deadpool

summary: wade has a proposition to offer: he will sit quietly (a complete lie) as logan shows him how fucking you properly is done. only it's not up to logan...it's up to you. his sweet angel of the morning.

word count: 3.4k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MDNI 18+ ONLY!!, threesome activities, voyeurism, bondage, wade wilson breaks the fourth wall, oral (m receiving), gags, coming untouched, p in v sex, fingering, cumplay, squirting, logan is rough with the pussy, gratuitous descriptions of filthy acts, biting, unedited + unbetad.

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME SERIES MASTERLIST

"Think of it as a learning opportunity peanut." A glass shattered on impact - ricocheting off the wall and lodged into Wade's chest. Neither the pain nor the blood could get him to stop talking though. "Possibly a way to work out those Hulk-like anger issues."

"No," Logan snapped, itching to rip the voice box out of Wade's throat. Maybe then he'd get an hour tops of silence as the fucker healed.

"You won't even ask her?" he whined. Truly the entire thing reeked of desperation. Wade knew how pathetic he looked right at this moment; whether he cared was an entirely different story.

"Shut the fuck–"

"Ask me what?"

They looked like two deer caught in headlights mere seconds before death. Wade's lips curled into a smile bright enough to rival the sunlight that poured in through the open window. Logan however looked as if he witnessed a ghost climbing out of the shitty painted walls to your right. You stopped inches away from the shards of glass that lined the floor—your eyebrows raised in disbelief at the sight.

How they both wound up in your apartment still remained a mystery to you. Logan went home before you even fell asleep, promising to return with your usual Sunday breakfast from Rosemary's. You came to the conclusion—given the food on the table—that Wade must have followed him. Intent on being a third wheel. Again.

"N-Nothing," Logan replied, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson.

You grinned, eyes trailing down to his jeans that sat snug on his hips. "Are you sure?"

"Sweet angel of the morning can I proposition you for a moment? Don't worry I'm not selling you a car. Although I could." Wade poured coffee into your new favorite mug—a tiny painting of Wolverine sat neatly on the front. "This is more of a learning experience."

"Learning what exactly?" You took the mug with a smile, entirely aware of Logan's eyes tracking your every step.

He thought you were going to run; you leaned into his side to prove you would stay. Whatever question Wade was intent on asking, it clearly touched a nerve. One you had to fix before another mishap occurred in your relationship. Logan wasn't the greatest at communication, but you could make up for his lack of talking in a language he understood well enough. Physical touch.

"Have you ever studied the art—nay the science—of a threesome?"

You choked on your coffee.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be enough of a warning for Wade to stop speaking. "There's classes dedicated to its research. I'd be a teacher, but have you met your boy toy over there? He's been alive for two hundred years. There's no way he's not danced the twisters tango."

"Twisters...tango?" Logan's hand patted your upper back as you forced the words out through a choked rasp.

"Twice the fun, three times the knot." He smiled, stepping so face you barely had a chance to stand upright before he was looking down, his finger tipping your chin gently. "Something tells me you'd be an expert."

"Get the fuck off her," Logan snapped, silver flashing in your peripheral.

You gripped his wrist in an attempt to stop the bloodshed from going even further. Cleaning broken glass from your floor was one thing. Scrubbing Wade's blood out of the carpet near your couch was another thing entirely.

The air around you grew tense as Logan's hand fell to your hip in a silent claim you felt curl at the base of your spine. Wade's smile never wavered, even as you felt your mouth dry. The offer circled in your head with a quickness that left you dizzy and gasping for breath. A threesome wasn't the most outlandish of propositions—hell your ex boyfriend had even asked at one point in your relationship.

But a threesome with both of them. Men who never faltered, never grew tired. Keeping up with Logan took the majority of your energy some nights—his insatiable need to have you became an overwhelming trait you grew to crave. Yet the thought of Wade joining in on that. The blood rushed to your head at the very concept, your heart ramming against your chest with each breath.

Logan tensed which gave you the answer you were looking for.

He wasn't worried about his own feelings. He merely wanted you to feel safe. There would never be another day you were put in harm's way because of something he caused. This was simply another one of those moments; a time where the choice remained entirely up to you.

"Drop it mouth–"

"How exactly would it happen?"

They froze, mouths gaping and eyes fixed on your inquiring face. What must have started out as a joke - something for Wade to relentlessly tease Logan over—became something else entirely. Before you could laugh it off, push past whatever awkwardness lingered in the air. Wade's smile returned—eyes alight in a type of joy you'd only seen come from him watching The Great British Bake Off.

Or cocaine.

"So glad you asked angel."

"God this feels like a teacher student porno. Except instead of me getting bent over a desk for being a bad boy I get to watch the teachers fuck." Wade practically leapt out of his skin as Logan tied the knot around his wrists. Pulling until a ring of white formed around the skin. He'd lose feeling in his hands, but something told you that remained part of the appeal. "Do I get to ask questions? In case there's a test?"

You smiled, sitting on the chair stuffed in the corner of your room. "I don't think the professor would like that, Wade."

A soft snarl emanated from Logan's chest, his hands chest heaving with each shift as he did his best not to look at you directly. The bulge on his jeans remained evident enough of what he thought of this. How he had to resist tearing through your clothes to get to what lay beneath.

Logan and self control never went hand in hand. Yet he held on by the skin of his teeth in order to help you settle into a familiar state of comfort. You silently thanked him for that - your nerves jumping with every second that passed.

"You're not gonna fuckin' talk," Logan replied gruffly, pulling out a spare leather belt he kept in your drawer for when he stayed over. "You wanted a learnin' experience. So that's what this is."

"But how am I supposed to learn if I can't–"

The belt went into his mouth harshly, yanking his head back as Logan pulled it closed with surprising speed. You began to wonder if he had done this before. Gagged someone with the efficiency of a pro who partook in sexual activities far more adventurous than what you'd been giving him. Maybe that's what this was all about. Dipping your toe in the waters to see if this experience was meant for you.

His thumb smoothing your furrowed brows pulled you from your thoughts. "You can say no honey. Don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"Logan–"

He shook his head, dropping to his knees before you. "If you say no I'll heat up the breakfast and Wade can put on a movie. Yeah?"

"And if I say yes?" you breathed.

"Then we take it as slow as you want."

The answer lay on the tip of your tongue, begging to be put out into the world. So you pulled him in for a kiss. Your fingers dug into his hair as you licked behind his teeth with a soft moan - the ache from last night building once more in the crevices and curves of your body. Wade echoed your sounds with a few of his own, body writhing to get closer to the edge of the bed. Logan however consumed you entirely.

He rose to his feet, hand cupping your chin to keep you in place. Spit trailed down your chin and for a moment you felt the urge to wipe it away. To clean your body in case that's not what he desired at this time. He cut you off with a growl, licking at the wet smear of spit before letting it fall back on your tongue. His thumb dragging the rest down the length of your throat.

"I want you fuckin' messy honey," he muttered. "Gotta show off my pretty little thing."

A gasp pierced the air, your body jolting at the command. This was familiar to you. Logan leading the dance as you trailed along with the hopes he'd see how good you could be. How much you longed to please him. Somehow the aspect of your relationship flipped when it came to sex. He was no longer tentative or worried there was a chance you might find him repulsive.

When it came to this Logan understood your love for him held no ands, ifs, or buts.

You'd never let him touch you if you didn't love him—that remained clear in his mind. It allowed him the chance to breathe.

"How about we give him a better view."

Whimpering out your unintelligible response, you let him move you with ease. He took the chair, spreading his legs wide for you to prop yourself on his thighs. Tugging at the t-shirt you slept in with a soft grunt he pulled it up and over your head—the softness of your skin on full display. He could practically feel you dripping onto your inner thighs, coating your body in that familiar tangy sweetness.

The thought made him dizzy—his fingers digging sharply into your hips. A stunted groan echoed from the bed, Wade's eyes flicking madly from your breasts to the shiny slick that covered your pussy. His cock strained against his gray sweatpants, a stain leaking into the fabric and turning it a shade darker. If his hands weren't tied Logan had no doubt he'd be fisting his cock to the sight of you naked and wanting.

And what a fucking sight that would be. Seeing this mouthy asshole finally grow quiet just from a mere glimpse at your body.

"What do you think honey? Should we free him?" Logan pointedly looked at Wade's groin—his chin hooking onto your shoulder as his hands slid along your thighs.

You whined, your ass pushing back into his hard cock. "He looks like he needs it, baby."

"Be a good girl and pull it out. Wanna see how wet he is."

"Okay."

Sliding off him, you dropped to your hands and knees, crawling the short distance towards Wade who looked ready to cum right then and there. He sucked in a broken gasp, his hips bucking up into nothing when your hands gripped the edge of his sweats. Your lips dragging along his clothed shoulder—fingers tugging down the waistband until it hung around his knees.

"Oh," you sighed, eyes fixed on the ruddy length of his red and purple cock. It practically dripped like a fucking faucet—spilling onto what sparse hair stuck to the base.

Blistering heat filled your body at the sight of his cock throbbing in your face, the length of it sticky and shiny. Wade never mentioned how much he wanted you. Or perhaps it was the fact that both you and Logan were giving him the show of a lifetime. Indulging him in a fantasy that felt like his imagination came to life.

"Give it a lick," Logan said. "Tell me how he tastes."

Hesitation was nowhere to be found in your body; the thrill of being told what to do shot through your stomach. Wade's eyes rolled back into his head when your mouth closed around the tip, suckling him in between hollowed cheeks—your tongue sliding through the slit.

A choked moan broke free around the belt, spit flying down his throat. You met his noise with one of your own, slick smearing across your thighs, your pussy fluttering at the salty tang of him spread across your tongue.

"That's enough."

You sat back on your heels—eyes meeting Wade's bleary gaze. The both of you were torn to shreds from the inside out. Pieces dispersed in a mess on the floor. Only for Logan to gather what remained—intent on putting you back together.

"C'mere honey," he huffed, gathering you back in his arms.

Logan's touch was relentless. Quick strokes along your bare thighs as you settled in his lap—teeth nipping along the line of your shoulder until pain bloomed beneath the pleasure. Each press of his hands made you melt into his chest, back pressing to his bare chest. The warmth of his arms became something you latched onto.

A constant source of comfort, of a promise to never let you sink below the waters.

You spread your legs over his thighs slowly in a show of revealing your pussy to the man across from you—his eyes practically glued to your pulsing hole. How it fluttered each time Logan sunk his teeth in. How you could feel it leak enough slick to drink down. You wanted to guide his face closer, see if he would like a taste, but Logan had other ideas.

The echo of his belt undoing seared a hole in your chest. Your body vibrated with anticipation—heart hammering a quick timed beat that left you breathless. He pushed you up, the slide of his cock pushing through your glistening lips drew a soft moan to the surface. Your fingers were a tight grip on the sides of the chair, and for a moment you felt a numbing sensation trickle into the palms of your hands.

"She's needy for it huh," Logan boasted, tapping the head against your clit to watch you jump. "So ready to be fucked."

You whined, loud enough to echo off the walls. "P-Please."

"So polite." His hand gripped your hips and in a swift thrust he pushed past your entrance, filling you until your mouth dropped in a pitiful moan. "And fuckin' tight. Don't tell me you like being watched."

A gasp tore from your throat, hips pushing back to take him right down to the base. The burning stretch only helped to drive you even higher. Wade's moans were a muffled chorus in the background, an audience member enjoying his free show. And for a brief moment you opened your eyes to find his gaze.

Tears streamed down his cheeks—agony glistening in his blown out pupils. But it was his cock that grabbed your attention. Purple and strained and aching for someone to touch him. Saliva filled your mouth, a high moan slipping past your parted lips.

"I knew it," Logan grunted, grinding up into you. "My dirty girl. Look at him. He's begging for it."

"L-Logan."

"Give your old man a kiss." He gripped your chin roughly, dragging your lips to his as his tongue invaded your mouth. Sucking the taste of Wade off your tongue with a hoarse moan.

He let you set your own pace, settling back into the chair to give you space and keep you steady. With stunted movements you lifted yourself off his cock and sat back down. A sharp cry bouncing off the walls, each thrust forcing the head of his cock right up against your walls. The slap of skin mixed with Wade's sounds—the wet squelch of your pussy sucking Logan back in echoed filthily in the room.

A sinful euphony of sex that had your toes curling and chest heaving.

Wade's eyes flicked between where the two of you were connected and the bounce of your breasts. The harsh thrusts began to force his cock to jolt—precum pouring into his lap and staining the sheets below. He'd never get tired of this sight. You entirely lost in chasing your pleasure as Logan watched proudly below.

"I-It's hard," you gasped, thighs trembling with each shift.

Logan tutted under his breath. "I know honey. Let me finish for you."

You weren't prepared for the ruthless pace he set. His hands became a vice-like grip on your hips with each pound of his cock into you, the sounds you made nowhere near anything you'd heard before. He fucked you without mercy. Every thrust punctuated with a biting growl—his cock slamming repeatedly into that perfect spot along your walls.

Nails ripped at the chair's arms, your body a shaking mess in his hold, and you could barely see straight in front of you. Wrenching your eyes open, you focused on Wade—your mouth forming a permanent shriek of Logan's name that closer you got to shattering. You watched him struggle to free his hands. His body trembling on the edge of the bed.

"Bet he can't fuck you like this," Logan spit, his teeth bared in a snarl. "Watch and fuckin' learn mouth."

"Logan!" you sobbed, the hot swell of tears spilling rapidly down your cheeks. "I'm gonna. Oh f-fuck–"

"Yeah you are." He yanked you back, his teeth setting into the skin of your shoulder, forming another ringed mark that would serve as a reminder to who you belonged to. A mark of his claim imprinted in your flesh.

The swift slap to your clit wrenched a choked sob from your throat, your eyes rolling back with the second hit. You held onto the edge by the skin of your teeth, your hands moving to grip his wrist. Breath became obsolete with each move and with a harsh third slap you broke with a garbled moan of his name. A wet gush splattered against your thigh, your body shaking viscerally in his tight hold as he came with a broken whine.

The harsh thrusts forced another wave of searing bliss through your body, a second stream of cum spilling onto the hardwood floors. Your eyes were blurred with tears, mouth sucking in sharp gasps, but Wade's pain muffled cry drew your attention back to the present moment.

His hips bucked up into nothing, eyes rolled back and spit drooling down his shirt. The veins of his neck were strained with each shift of his body—for a moment you worried he would choke. Until he came with a muddled shout, cum shooting up to his torso and splashing beneath his chin. The mere sight of it had you clenching down around Logan - your mouth parted in complete awe.

"Shit," Logan gasped, eyes wide and cheeks flushed crimson.

"C-Can I?"

He tapped your thigh. "Go on honey."

On shaky legs you practically fell to the floor and dragged yourself towards Wade. Your mouth immediately swallowing his cock with a hazy sigh—tongue licking up the heady taste of his cum. It slid down your throat, warmed the insides of your body. And Wade looked down at you with eyes full of adoration. A sight you'd never seen him wear in your presence.

Logan shuffled to his feet, quickly moving to undo the restraints. Only for Wade's hands to press against your head—shoving his softened cock down your throat with a soft fuck.

"You guys would make a fucking fortune on Only Fans," he grunted, another spurt of warmth spilling into your mouth.

Logan growled. "Count yourself lucky mouth. She may not want this again."

You grinned, pulling off to press a messy kiss to the still leaking tip. "This was fun." Your voice was hoarse, body covered in a sheen of sweat, yet they regarded you with an emotion you felt weigh heavy at the base of your chest.

A feeling you never believed might occur in your life.

"Logan?" The warmth of his hand spread down to your chest when he cupped your face, swiping at the mess on your lips. "How about that breakfast?"

"Anythin' for you honey," he vowed.

"You guys ever seen the movie Oklahoma?" Wade butted in, his forehead knocking gently against yours before Logan pulled you to your feet.

You laughed, dizzy from the high that still coursed through your veins. A flannel was draped over your shoulders, fingers working to button them up before he got frustrated.

"Might inspire a second round of teacher, teacher, student."

A breathy giggle was muffled against Logan's lips in a swift kiss. "Isn't that musical?"

"It's not just a musical sweet angel. It's a lifestyle. Literally for some people who live in well...Oklahoma."

Logan groaned, dragging you behind him in an attempt to stop the conversation short. You merely called over your shoulder in response. Wade stumbled after you buck naked—his shirt and sweats discarded on the floor in favor of giving the world a view yet to be forgotten. You eyed his chest with a smile, even as Logan palmed your ass to bring you closer.

"Play it." You grinned, hand sliding down to cup Logan through his jeans. "We'll see what happens."

"For fucks sake."

note: i don't even know if this is good. but i hope y'all enjoyed it. drink some water!

[meliciousmel13]

̗̗̀̀➛ killer!billie headcannons

paring: killer!billie x bimbo!reader warnings: smut, obsessive behavior, face sitting, stalking? (kind of), billie kills someone here, grinding, i think thats it tell me if you find any more please!

wc: 1,487

SYNOPSIS: headcannons of killer!billie x bimbo!reader

taglist: @chrissv4mp, if your not a part of this list but want to be comment under my tag list post, which is on my masterlist.

an: i wrote this today 💀 IM ON MY PERIODDD and kind of horny ngl

at first, she didn’t think much of you. she thought you were just another co-worker at her boring office job that sometimes brought everyone coffee, like the angel you were.

until she saw her co-worker, oliver, flirt with you. she knew he was flirting with you because he was touching you. he was touching your shoulder, and touching your hair. and touching, and touching. he would stop fucking touching you.

she hated that it irritated her. hated the way you wore things that made people look, like that skimpy top you wore last week, everyone was looking.

the first time you talked to her, you smiled, gave her a tissue wrapped doughnut and black coffee with one sugar cube. said it was nice to meet her and that you were new here.

it’s either you knew her, or just guessed her coffee preference. but you were so thoughtful.

she unknowingly started to follow you to the empty parking lot and find you fumbling with your keys with papers stacked on one arm.

she imagined helping you, taking those papers from you and handing you her number, maybe you call her and invite her to diner or something, anything.

but she never did anything. only savored the way her hand brushes yours whenever you were handing her the breakfast she relied on.

sometimes she skips meals so she can talk to you.

she didn’t even have to ask. just subtly hint that she forgot her lunch at home—and, oh, whatever will she do?

“you can have some of mine.” you smiled softly, pushing half of your sandwich into her hands.

“oh, i can’t take your food. it’s fine, i can go a day without lunch.” billie said, shaking her head. knowing that you would deny her not eating.

“what? no. half already fills me up you can take it.”

“if you insist.” she smiled.

it wasn’t her fault she followed oliver home. it was his fault, for flirting with what was hers. you.

she imagined stabbing oliver in the neck. hiding the body, and comforting you when you run to her, talking about how awful it is for someone to stab such a nice person.

until she actually killed him.

billie prepared her rubber gloves, the sharpened knife and various things. she thought of her plan. would she just knock on his door and stab him? no. that was too dangerous. someone might see her.

so she decided to sneak in his backyard. he lived alone, with 2 cats and 2 woman constantly coming in and out. great, he was even a cheater. see? he deserved it.

and he even screamed like a pussy. wearing his stupid shark boxers and still had his work button up on.

the next day the police came to see the crime. one of the girls he was cheating on knocked on his door to find his dick severed and his throat slit.

and guess who you came to cry to? her. you cried over someone you barely knew.

“i can’t—” hic. “i can’t believe someone s—” hic.

“shh.” she rubbed your back, while you were crying into her shoulder, you were wearing a light pink skirt on and a pretty top that left nothing for the imagination, “maybe i can come over? bake everyone cookies?”

“mhmm,” you sniffle, wiping your tears and snot on her shirt, “m’ sorry bout' your shirt.” you breathe.

“it’s okay, you can make it up to me. give me two cookies instead of one.” billie said, smiling, hiding her satisfaction.

“i’ll give you four.” you giggle. angel.

so she came over. she walked into your house invited. and she didn’t even stalk you to find out where you live—she was being good.

you opened the door with smallest fucking shorts she’s ever seen, and a tiny pink top, with no bra. which means that your nipples were leaving a small print on the fabric.

she’s in heaven. the whole house was lathered in your perfume and natural scent. and the walls were decorated with paintings and little trinkets. she knew your house wouldn’t be boring, like olivers. she sat on your couch and it was so soft.

she thought of fucking you on it. how your moans would ricochet off the pretty walls and how her cock would pump in your pretty pussy. how you would be too afraid to touch her back in case your accidentally scratched at it and hurt her. you could never hurt her.

how she would convince you to sit on her lap, naked, and whine and whimper, begging her to just fuck you already, like you couldn’t wait any longer.

she imagined convincing you to sit on her face. how you’d be too cautious, afraid to break her nose or neck. you would still do it though, sitting on her pretty face that was filled with a satisfied smile.

she would have her head almost falling off the edge of your bed, offering you to just get off her face if it was too much, it would first start off slow, you hover over her face not even siting. holding and gripping her hands, how she would leave small kisses on your thighs before extending her tongue and tasting you.

you would ‘mhph’ at that, left breathless and feeling your knees go weak, she would take her other hand and guide you to fully sit, she would feel the weight of you on her mouth. how she would shove her long pink tongue into you.

you would moan, still holding her hand and gripping her hair, bucking your hips. actually riding her. how your pouty lips let out the prettiest noises. how would let go of her hand and hold her head with both your hands and squeeze her head between your thighs.

she didn’t do any of that, obviously. just helped you with making your cookies.

you were putting in the chocolate chips now, and billie was holding your waist and watching. in reality, she didn’t do shit to help. only preparing the ingredients and keeping you company.

“now we bake them forr, i think 20 minutes.” you said, pushing the tray into the oven and bending, to reveal your striped panties. she was behind you, could feel your ass pushing against her pelvis.

“your really good at baking.” she complemented.

“thank you.” you blush, and smile.

she realized you were an angel ages ago. but when you offered for her to sleep over? oh.

she entered your room and saw the mess, the thrown dirty underwear and your “work” clothes throw in the corner of the room.

your face was flushed and you apologized for the mess. billie didn’t mind though, even helped you clean, she always treated you well, your mom would love her.

you thought about billie meeting your parents, they would think she was the best person you’ve brought them to meet, since all your other boyfriends only wanted you for your body. their personality was horrible too, they all treated your mom awfully.

but billie would never, she’d probably help your mom in the kitchen when she’s preparing the dinner. and your dad would talk about how he needed a helping hand in his mechanic company. noticing how well she was with her hands.

you imagined how the sweat would roll off her forehead—and now that’s dangerous territory, let’s not think of that.

you let billie sleep in your bed, since you didn’t want her to sleep on the floor with a pillow. that would hurt her back.

you didn’t even think of why her knee was between your thighs, she didn’t mean to push herself behind you and do that

you woke up with billie’s knee between your thighs, she adjusted her position and unconsciously moved her knee upward, causing it to hit your pussy, and you sniffled a moan, putting a hand over her knee and grinding subtly.

you were dirty. even moved your shorts and panties to the side to feel the rough fabric of her sweatpants on your bare pussy, feeling her knee hitting your clit at the perfect angle. almost like she was awake.

you slid your hand under the pillow and gripped, digging your head into the pillow and sniffling your whines.

you felt billie shuffle, and stiffen.

“good morning, angel.” she whispered in your ear, putting your shorts and panties back to their designated spot, not before brushing your clit with her middle finger, “were you busy there? sorry, your whining woke me up.”

you apologized a million times, couldn’t stop thinking of her deep, raspy morning voice in your ears. and her knee.

billie left soon after. she didn’t leave empty handed though, she left your house with a box of chocolate chip cookies and two pairs of your dirty underwear stuffed in her pockets. and a little lip gloss stain on her cheek.

[januaryembrs]

Any fluffy sweet Drabble about the moon boys 🫡

SWEET MORNINGS | Marc Spector x reader

description: the boys wake up to their girlfriend making breakfast, too bad she has no clue which boy is fronting that morning

length: 1.1k

warnings: representation of DID, Marc's slight self loathing (it's Marc idk what to say). Writer has never experienced DID so I am going off the show

He woke up peacefully, which had once been a fleeting dream in itself for a man like him. He’d spent years jumping at the smallest sounds, flinching at voices and footsteps, ready to be up and out of bed within a moment’s notice. Yet, when his eyes slowly blinked out of the reverie of sleep, he heard her humming along to the radio, already half way through the song, heard her socks sliding against the kitchen floor as she whirled around the stove, and the smell of pancakes and coffee hit him with full force. 

His lips drew into a smile before he even knew it, and he was drawing the covers back, her side of the bed not entirely freezing which told him she’d been up about twenty minutes. Marc grabbed his shirt off the floor, the same one Steven used to sprinkle with sand when he had no idea about their coexistence, only two years later, it was scrubbed clean, even with a pretty, knit rug you’d bought from your apartment when you moved in. 

Tugging it over his head, he padded into the living room, where he could already see your form where you danced around the kitchen, entirely unaware of his approach. He’d been trying to teach you self defence, said you needed to learn to have a sixth sense when it came to people on your tail, because he had a tendency to worry about you more than Steven and Jake did. But maybe it was the fact he had naturally light footsteps, or maybe it was the fact you knew in the comfort of your home he would always be there to protect you, either way your guard was entirely down by the time he swooped behind you, grabbing you in a warm, soft hug, pressing kisses down the side of your bare neck and onto your shoulder. 

“Morning,” His voice was muddied with sleep, and he cleared his throat, hoping to take some of the husk out of it despite the fact you whirled around to look at him with something that told him just what you thought of his rumbling voice. 

“Morning, honey,” You said, pressing a small kiss to his lips, your hand still on the frying pan that he now realised had been filled with mini-chocolate pancakes, the batter sizzling and cracking in the oil, “You hungry?” 

Marc wasn’t really listening as he gave a ‘mhm’, too busy burying his nose in the crook of your neck and jaw, kissing lazily there as he tightened his grip on your waist. 

His gaze fell on the counter after a moment, the blueberry porridge Steven went crazy for already dished up in the little purple bowl you’d painted for him for their birthday, whirled of steam coming off the breakfast that was slowly turning a cornflour colour with the chopped fruit swirling in the centre. 

“Sorry, baby, I think Steven’s still sleeping, I can try ask him-” He started as you used a spatula to quickly flip the pancakes, their underside a golden brown that made his mouth water.

“Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t sure who was joining me for breakfast, or if all of you wanted something, so I made a bit of everything,” You said, smiling at him as you turned the gas down and spun in his arms, batting your eyes at him with an innocent smile, “Chocolate pancakes for you, blueberry oatmeal for Steven and a black coffee for Jake since I know you guys got mad last time we had bacon together,”

“What a woman,” Jake’s voice was a growl of appreciation that Marc couldn’t help but agree with, and he was quick to lean in to steal a handful of long kisses, grabbing the soft plush of your hips with feather light fingers and pulling you towards him, “Ay, Romeo, your pancakes are burning.”

You sprung away from him like you’d heard the alter yourself, your eyes wide in surprise, “Your pancakes are burning!” 

He heard Jake chuckle and a smile made it’s way onto his face as you fretted over whether the brown was where the chocolate had melted or if the mix had singed, but Marc thought he might just eat anything you gave him because you poured so much love and affection into it he couldn't help but think it tasted divine. 

“Marc, I’m sorry, I know we have the no hogging the body rule and I got to have her all last night, but please let me have just a few bites- o-or atleast ask her to save it for me, that stuff smells delicious,” Steven seemed to be wide awake and kicking at the sight of food, and Marc sighed, reaching out with one hand to swoop your hair off your neck as he kissed the very top of your spine. 

“Steven asks if we could save him the blueberry oatmeal since it’s my turn to spend time with you,” He said gently, and he feels you smile before he sees it, the way your cheeks crinkle and pull tightly. 

“Of course I can, baby, I’ll put it in the fridge,” You said, despite the fact the man was inside the body, scooping the little circular goods onto two plates for both of you. Turning to set the plates on the table, Marc grabbed two glasses out of the cabinet, opening the fridge door with a rattle as the magnets clasped pictures of the two of you to the cooler. 

“Orange or apple juice?” He asked, pulling the former out of the side drawer for himself. 

“Orange, please,” You replied politely, grabbing some cutlery out and laying it beside his plate. 

The two of you sat down finally, Marc sliding the filled glass over to your half of the dinner table and allowing himself to just watch as you picked up your knife and fork, digging into the chocolatey breakfast before it went cold. 

He never deserved any of this, the light touches and the breakfasts and the devotion and the way you put him on a pedestal. But sitting in the slow hum of the radio, the most obscure top hundreds playlist he thinks you could have chosen, he bit into his pancake, his tongue exploding with sugary yumminess, as you told him the weird dream you’d had about him becoming some kind of half horse, centaur type man and how you wondered if he would wear jeans on the front legs, the back legs, or if you would have to have custom, four legged bottoms made for him. 

The two of you laughed, because he didn’t quite understand what had gotten him so lucky as to end up with you. He could get used to all this.