#and if I was a child did it matter if you got to wash your hands

[zukkaart]

A:tLA characters as songs from Midnights

Aang: Dear Reader/burn all the files, desert all your past lives, and if you don’t recognize yourself that means you did it right

Katara: Great War/Maybe it’s the past that’s talking… telling me to punish you for things you never did

Sokka: Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve/and now that I’m grown I’m scared of ghosts. Memories feel like weapons

Zuko: Mastermind/so I’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since- to make them love me and make it seem effortless

Toph: Maroon/when the morning came we were shaking, blind, and hazy. How the hell did we lose sight of us again?

Suki: Hits Different/but I could still melt your world. Argumentative, antithetical dream girl

Ty Lee: You’re on your own kid/so make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it. You’ve got no reason to be afraid

Mai: Midnight Rain/He wanted it comfortable I wanted that pain

Azula: Vigilante Shit/They say looks can kill and I might try

[lesbiandarvey]

literally so funny to me to see people harveycameron posting. i thought i was the only one…

[acourtofquestions]

Never thought of this one this way (until a fan pointed it out to me today); but

Arobynn Hamel is Celaena Sardothien’s

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve

like LITERALLY

“give me back my girlhood it was mine first”

[burytheminflorida]

i hadnt listened to wouldve couldve shouldve in sooo long until today so that mashup really just tore me limb from limb

[zarameraki]

♡🍼₊˚・₊✧ 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸 ₊˚・🍼₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 toji loves boobs

: ̗̀➛ words: 982

: ̗̀➛ notes: this was requested by anon and i did post it through the ask but I wanted to post it separately hehe. ok enjoy

Toji had an outlandish kink. 

It developed shortly after you’d given birth. You didn’t understand why he’d stare at you as you breastfeed your child. Well, he mostly stared at your breasts in his classic Toji style. 

“What?” you bit out as he continuously watched you from the kitchen. You helped your baby latch onto your nipple and stared at your husband with a defiant look. “Oh, for God’s sake, Toji. Spit it out.” 

“I want a taste.” 

“Taste of what?” 

“What that little brat is drinking.” 

Your brows hit the roof of your hairline at his bizarre request. He couldn’t be—Wow, your husband had truly outdone himself in his kinks game. “Yeah, no fucking way. This milk is strictly for our child. If you’re so eager, open the fridge and pour yourself a cup. I’m pretty sure we’ve got cookies, too. But the oatmeal ones are mine—”

“I don’t give a fuck, doll. I wanna know what your milk tastes like.”

“Toji, are you out of your fucking mind? I’m not—You’re a grown ass man. I’m not going to, I don’t know, breastfeed you.” 

“I’m not asking you to breastfeed me. I only want a little taste. I’m fucking curious, sue me.” 

You scoffed, giving a small rock to your baby as he gargled and took small breaths in between the feeding. “Toji, I love you, and I love your abnormal requests during sex, but I’m not letting you taste my milk.” 

Toji stared at you with a frown. A puppy-dog frown that melted your heart and added cracks in your defenses. He lowered his eyes and resumed washing the dishes. “I only wanted a small taste,” he mumbled in the most adorable manner. 

Growling from your throat, you folded at his request. “Fine.” 

“Really?” 

“Just—Just give me a minute.” 

Toji abandoned the dishes and quickly sat next to you, ogling your breast. “What if he drinks you dry?” 

“What if you drink me dry?” 

“I don’t mind sharing. He’s my son, too.”  

You rolled your eyes and smiled down at your baby. After a few minutes of drinking, he unlatched his mouth and you handed him off to Toji to burp him. “Wait here. I’ll go use the suction pump—”

“Fuck no. I wanna drink it straight from the source.” 

You took in a deep, aggravated breath. “Fine, you dick. Put him to sleep and meet me back here.”

A tiny part of you was intrigued by Toji’s kink, but another was scared that he would drink you dry. The man was downright obsessed with breasts since the first night you slept together. During your pregnancy, he’d lay you back on his chest and massage them with scented oils, commenting how heavy they’d gotten. It was only a matter of time his curiosity regarding your chest would grow. 

You unhooked your nursing bra and placed it aside, laying down on the couch with a groan. Toji entered minutes later and immediately covered your body with his looming figure, giving you kisses across your face for being such a kind wife. “Whatever. Hurry up so I can eat something.” 

“I’ll cook,” he said, trailing kisses down to your neck and chest. “l’m gonna finger you, too, baby.” 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. 

Toji smiled and pushed his hands down your panties, parting your folds slowly growing wetter and wetter from his heated presence. He sought out your clit like the expert he was and rubbed it with gentle circles. Your lips parted with small, soft sounding sighs, fingers running through your hair and staying there. “That feels good, doll?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Yeah?” Toji pushed his middle and ring finger into your entrance. He began stimulating you with his quick thrusts. Your heels scraped up the couch’s surface, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip. 

Toji ran his coarse tongue over your right nipple. You glanced down at him and scoffed from his cheeky wink. He kissed the sensitive bud, then locked his mouth on it, pulling it in. You wrapped a leg around the back of his thighs, and your hands cupped the back of his head as he suckled on your nipple. He moaned and took laboured breaths from his nose, and when you glanced down, you found trickles of white liquid at the corner of his lips. 

“Toji, save some—”

He switched to your left nipple, leaving his fingers static inside your walls. He was too drunk on the taste of your breast milk to care about anything else. Your back arched from the sensation of him teething your nipple to produce more milk. Toji took his fingers out of your pussy and massaged your right breast. 

“Toji, that’s enough,” you breathed, using his hair to pull him away. Thankfully, he compiled and released your nipple with a pop sound, licking around his mouth to taste the last bits of your milk. “How was it?” 

Toji had to close his eyes and reel in a deep breath. “I’m gonna drink from these tits every night until they stop producing milk.” He gathered your breasts in both large palms and kissed the tips. “Gonna put a baby in you again so I don’t die of thirst.” 

You chuckled in disbelief and smacked his back. He stared lovingly at you and kissed your lips. You tasted nothing, really. “Mmm. You know, if you make me a big dinner afterwards, I’ll have more milk for our baby when he wakes up.” 

He narrowed his eyes. 

“What I’m saying is, you big buffoon, that whatever is left over now, is yours—ah!” 

You clutched to the back of his hair as he started drinking again, pulling up to sit on his lap. His strong arms stayed wrapped around your waist, mouth glued to your sore, puffy nipple. 

Sighing, you smiled and kissed the top of his head. “You’re a kinky idiot, Toji Zenin.” 

[majinbangus]

happy birthday little simon

"You're inviting me to the lad's birthday?"

At this point in time, he kind of expects to get a knock on his door more times in a week than he ever did during the entire duration he's lived in this flat. Most weekdays- when you leave for work and drop off your lad at school- the boy likes to make a quick stop to say good morning. It's become somewhat of a routine. Sometimes it's a sleepy greeting, but little Simon is a cheerful child who has taken an odd liking to him, and vice versa.

"If you can make it."

Then there's you. The sunny child's mother. An easy presence to be in. Refreshing like the ocean breeze during a calm day. Something addictive he can't get enough of.

"When is it?"

This is new. You switched up the routine by coming a second time at midday after he returned from the gym, freshly showered. You faired better when he opened the door compared to that one time. Granted, he was fully dressed, but it was a little disappointing; however, you did have a reason for visiting.

He could tell by the tension surrounding your eyes. Focused like you were on a mission. He supposes you technically are on one. Inviting Simon to your boy's birthday.

"Saturday."

He furrows his brows. "This Saturday?"

"Yes."

"That's tomorrow."

"I know it's a bit last minute, but..." You sigh, running a frustrated hand over your face, frowning at the ground. "No one RSVP'd."

"No one?" Simon nearly growls, offended on the lad's behalf. "What about his friends? The little fuckers don't want to come?

You purse your lips, crossing your arms. "We sent out invites to all his classmates, but ever since we moved, Simon's been having trouble making friends."

"He has trouble?"

"It's not his fault!" You snap before grimacing, lowering your voice, "Sorry, it's just... Simon tries to make friends, but kids are mean, you know? They're young, but they already have their established friend groups and exclude him because he's new."

New. Different. Any reason along those lines. It doesn't matter to kids. Or it does, and that's why they're unjustly cruel to their peers. He understands. Simon grew up with many of his schoolmates avoiding him for being 'weird', not knowing his home life. Tommy had 'friends' but they weren't exactly a good crowd.

"So you want me to come?" Simon asks, and he's met with a tired expression he's never seen on you before—not even when you were sick and weak and needed to be looked after. You look as if you hold the weight of the world on your shoulders, about to collapse.

"He tries not to let it get him down, but if no one shows up..." You bite your lip, a flash of pain in your eyes at the thought of your son hurting. "Please? He likes you, and even if you're the only one who shows up, it'll mean a lot to him."

Simon looks at you. Really looks at you and takes in the desperation in your eyes. You look as if you'd do anything to convince him to come. Even fight him. Tie him up. Anything to drag him to your son's party. You'd probably do it, mother bear that you are.

But you don't need to do that. You won't ever have to fight another battle. Not if he can help it. Simon will fight your battles for you from now on.

"I'll come."

You have his devotion. You and your boy.

"Really?" You brighten up, the hopeless look in your eyes washing away.

He nods. "I'll bring a mate with some brats around your lad's age. They're friendly. They'll like him."

"Will they? Are you sure your friend will be okay with it?"

"They will, and the bastard owes me one, anyway."

No, he doesn't, but Johnny will pull through. Him and his seemingly endless amount of nieces and nephews, although he'll only need to bring a few.

A wide smile breaks out on your face, bright like the sun, and oh- that's where your boy got his grin. Without warning, you leap into his arms, forceful enough to make him grunt. You hug him, burying your face into his shoulder with Simon's hands hovering at your waist, fingers twitching.

It's rare to catch him off guard. So many new sensations fill his senses. Your warmth, surrounding him like a blanket; your scent, sweet and calming with a freshness to it that makes him want to bury his face into your neck and inhale. Or maybe he would bite into your soft skin to see if you taste as pleasant as you smell. If he wasn't so controlled, he probably would sate his curiosity right now.

You stiffen, your body tensing as if you're aware of what you've done, and move to back away, but Simon stops you, resting his hands on your hips. You gently melt your body against his again.

"Thank you, Simon," You softly murmur into his shoulder. It's a quiet sound, but he hears it and lets his arms wrap you in a full hug. You melt against his body, sighing. He doesn't think he's ever felt so warm before. "And just so you know... it means a lot to me, too, that you're coming."

-

Simon: > Johnny

Johnny: > Yeah, lt?

Simon: > You busy tomorrow?

Johnny: > Yes? > I have a date with that bonnie piano teacher I told you about > ... why

Simon: > Cancel it > Have something I need you to do

Johnny: > Work related?

Simon: > No

Johnny: > Then why can't you do it?

Simon: > I'm already on it > Cancel your date

Johnny: > Then why do you need me? > I'm not gonna cancel my date you dobber

-

"Cannae believe ye made us come all the way to fuckin' Manchester. Do y'know how many fuckin' hours ye made us drive, Ghost? The wee ones didnae like gettin' up so arse fuckin' early, either-"

"Shut up, Johnny. You owed me one."

"I didnae?!"

A giggle from Soap's bonnie piano teacher. "You're accent thickens when you're upset, John."

"Today was supposed to be our date!"

"It's not so bad. I still get to spend time with you."

"... Guess not, but I'll take you out proper tomorrow, promise."

"See, Johnny? Everyone wins."

"Awa’ an bile yer heid, Ghost."

-

Despite all his complaining, Johnny is a good guest and keeps the children entertained, playing the part of the fun uncle by letting the kids wrestle or play tag with him, not minding the grass stains as they roughhouse in the park. Currently, he's playing an informal football game with them—six vs. one. He's mostly blocking the ball from entering the goal, but it's still fun for all of them.

Little Simon is extra happy with his new friends. He's been smiling nonstop since they all introduced themselves, grin extra proud when he revealed his name.

("Like Uncle Simon's?"

"Yeah, he says it's a fine name!")

You also haven't stopped smiling ever since they arrived. Not quite as big as your boy's grin, but it still hasn't left. You and Soap's date get along swimmingly, too. He can already tell you'll be good friends with the teacher.

"Not gonna join them?"

Simon looks to see you standing next to him under the tree, watching the children as Soap 'misses' a shot from one of his nephews.

"Where's your friend?" He asks instead.

"Went looking for a bathroom." You gesture vaguely in the direction Soap's date disappeared off to. "So, not gonna play?"

He shakes his head. "Johnny's got it."

"Oh?" The suspiciously innocuous tone makes his eyes narrow. "Is it because he's the better footballer between you two?"

Simon slowly turns towards you, glaring with no real heat, but it still doesn't stop your panicked giggle when he takes a half step in your direction, making you back up against the tree. He gets closer and leans into your space, nearly brushing his front against yours. You audibly gulp, and Simon places a palm on the tree, hand right next to your head. He gets close to your face, watching your eyes widen then dart down to look at somewhere on the bottom half of his face before meeting his eyes again. You bite your lip.

"Repeat that for me, sweetheart." Simon growls softly, and you give a sharp, little inhale.

"U-um. I'd rather... not." Your voice comes out breathy, and you place a hand on his chest as if to stabilize yourself.

"I wasn't asking." He doesn't give you a chance to breathe, leaning in closer, and your fingers dig a little into his pec, making his muscles flex under your touch. "I'll say again: repeat that for me."

With nowhere to run, pinned to a tree, you tremble against his body, breathing heavily and barely able to meet his eyes, licking your lips. It takes you a moment to build up the nerve to speak with Simon surrounding your senses.

"I um... I um-"

"Simon, Uncle Johnny said to come play with us!"

Instantly, he backs away from you and turns around to see your boy running over. Behind him, he hears you exhale a quiet, little, "Fuck..."

Fuck, indeed.

He turns his attention to the lad once he comes to a stop in front of him. "Is that what he said?"

"Uh-huh! He said we're giving him trouble, and it'll make it more fair so he's not the only one guarding."

Simon looks over to where Johnny stands with the football held casually to the side between his arm and waist. The man smirks knowingly, glancing between you and Simon before giving a cheeky wave. He glares back. "I'll show him trouble."

"What did you say, Simon?"

He looks back at your boy. "Nothing. I'll come play."

The lad's eyes brighten with a celebratory cheer, grabbing his wrist and leading the way to the field. Simon looks back to see you better composed, if a little disheveled, but smiling nonetheless at the two like they're the only ones who matter.

-

After cake and presents, the children return to playing football with the new football that Soap gave as a present for little Simon, along with your boy wearing a jersey from the Scot's favorite team. A petty move from Soap, in Simon's opinion, but he'll let him have this one. He'll get your boy cheering for Man United soon enough.

The adults hang back in their own pairs. Soap and his date finally getting a moment to themselves, nibbling on cake and talking about whatever it is they talk about at the picnic table, and you and Simon are back under the tree, keeping a respectable distance between each other.

"Kid seems happy," Simon idly notes, watching your boy laugh and play with the younger MacTavish's. "You did good."

"Me?" You glance at him. "You were the one to bring a tiny tribe to Simon's birthday. Look at him. That smile is because of you."

"That smile is because you're a good mum," Simon states in a way that leaves no room for questions. "You were the one who made today happen. You gave your lad the birthday he deserved. He'll remember this."

Like how Simon remembers his mum doing her best to give him and Tommy the birthdays they deserved, no matter how small the celebration was.

You're looking at him as if you can't quite believe he's real, a cute, astonished look adorning your face. He's tempted to make a comment about it until you give a quiet, amazed laugh, reaching for his hand to give it a grateful squeeze. You don't pull away, and he doesn't let go.

"Even so, Simon had a great seventh birthday, and a lot of it is because of you. You did more than you had to- more than his father ever did! Bastard didn't even send a happy birthday text, son of a bitch." You exhale a heavy, calming breath. "But never mind that... What I'm trying to say is thank you. You didn't have to do what you did, and ever since we met, you've been really good to him."

You shoot him a teasing look. "What's your secret? Have a hidden family out there or something?"

A darker part of Simon is tempted to laugh. You're kind of right, in a messed up way, but he doesn't hold it against you. He hums, contemplating. "I had a nephew."

"Had?" The information takes another second to process. "Oh! I mean..."

"Don't have to say anything." Simon stares out to where the kids are playing. He imagines another boy running among them. Both younger and older than the children out in the field. Taken too young with no opportunity to grow. To live. He squeezes your hand. "He reminds me of him. Joseph. Would have been a couple years older than your lad by now, but I think they would have gotten along."

"Think so?" You send him a soft smile, stepping closer to hug his arm. "Tell me more about him?"

Simon looks at you, the warmth of your body pressed against him, and it suddenly feels like there's no one else in the world. There's just you and him under this tree, with your boy's laughter ringing like bells in the air, and that's when it hits.

Settle down... He's finally starting to get it, Tommy.

-

soap's piano teacher is something i want to write out, but idk if i'll get to it

[maiko-san]

Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 2 )

<<< Part 1 , Part 3 >>>

Relationship: Fluff

Character focused: Dogday, Fem! Reader

Plot : You're giving Dogday a groom after he got himself covered in mud.

A/n : I will try to include the other Smiling Critters in here, they deserve love too.

A month has passed and things went on normally with your life. All the Smiling Critters get a minor check up everyday either by you or other coworkers.

These mascots work with children 24/7, they often are climbed on, tugged around or have paints/food stuck on their fur.

"I guess that's all of it"

"Oooh! My mane looks even prettier and shiny than before!"

You just finished cleaning up Craftycorn from all the glitters and paint off her white coat and cyan hair. Which took you half an hour to clean.

You put on a pink bow on her braided mane so she looks cuter.

"I really love how you do my mane! You know, we should do this more often! You're so creative, just like ME!"

" *chuckles* I'm glad that you like it, Craftycorn but I am NOT that creative as you are"

You dismiss the unicorn and give a handful of candy for her to enjoy. You call in the other mascot and Dogday pops his head in.

The dog is covered in mud from head to toe.

"Now, what did you get yourself into this time, Dogday?"

It was the third time this week.

Dogday only looks away, both hands on his back as he kicks his feet.

"KickinChicken and I got carried away while playing football, sorry..." /he lied.

You quirk an eyebrow, you know Dogday is really bad at lying. There are no muds at the football field since the field has fake grass carpet.

You wonder where he got all the mud from....oh well.

To Dogday, he likes being around you and wants to see you everyday but the other staff members didn't let him. Not even for a bit.

So the only way for the smiling critters to see you was to getting themselves dirty, either by accident or on purpose.

For Dogday, he did it on purpose so he could see you.

You usher the mascot on to the large bathtub so you could wash him up. You run the warm water over his body and rinsing the mud from his fur.

You know that they can clean themselves up but they seem to prefer having you to clean them.

It's a lot of work to clean a two story high mascot but it's fun.

You and the smiling critters would have a conversation, sometimes the smiling critters would tell them about their days.

Like a child telling their parents what they do at school.

"How's your day at the play care today?"

"It's really fun! We do a lot of things!"

"Oh, really? Tell me all about it. I'm curious"

"We play tag, we play hide n seek, we play red light green light with everyone! It was fun!"

"Did you have fun playing football with KickinChicken?"

"Oh, yes I did! The football was fun but what's even more fun is when you play in the mud!"

"Oh, really? KickinChicken just came a few hours ago and he told me he had fun playing skateboard"

"I—"

"Ha! Gotcha!"

You smirk as Dogday hangs his head down slightly. You scrub off the dirt from his ear and tell him that it's fine if he wants to see you.

Just don't get himself dirty all the time.

"The other staffs doesn't let me see you..."

"And why is that?"

"They said you stole their work...."

"....."

Recently your coworker has been glaring behind your back, gossiping and telling you to quit your job. Saying you were proud of your work which you never at all.

It is not entirely your fault that the mascots prefer you over them.

You knew how these mascots were treated before. It was during your interview at the playcare and your manager gave you a tour around the place.

You witnessed how the maintenance workers strapped these mascots in a tiny space and treated them like a wild animal.

"It is our fault wasn't it?"

"No, it's not. I'll deal with that matter myself and it is not yours to worry, alright"

You gave the canine mascot an assuring pat on the head which he leans into and his tail wagging behind him. You continue with your work and dry him in the blower machine and then you begin to groom his fur.

You notice that his fur had gotten longer by the day, so you decide to give him a little trim.

You hold his large paw, combing out the matted fur and snip some of them so it looks neat.

You did the same thing with his ears and chests.

Dogday watches you do you work, out of all staffs in this place. You are the nicest and the most gentle out of all staffs. You never strap them down or keep them in a small cage.

You treat them like a real person.

Like they used to be.

Dogday wants more from you, he wants to feel loved by someone. Someone that cares for him and everyone's well being unlike those scientists....

You care for him, so he will do the same to you.

You are his angel, after all....

"Alright, everything's done!"

You fix his collar and give his pendant a little shine. You decide to wrap a red scarf around his neck to compliment his orange colour.

"Is this for me, angel?"

"Yeah, it suits you well"

Dogday brings you into a tight hug, with his tail wagging aggressively behind his back. It seems the canine couldn't contain his excitement.

I mean, who doesn't like gifts? Especially from someone you like!

"Thank you! I will cherish it, always!"

"You're welcome, bud"

A/n : Since the first chapter received a good amount of views, here is the second chapter for all of you, sweeties!

I will assume that Dogday is the oldest out of all Smiling Critters, maybe around 13-15. We don't have a clue who Dogday really is but I decided to make him one of the older orphans.

Also, all the Smiling Critters in my stories share sibling relationships! and the reader is their oldest sibling or maybe parent figure! ☺️

[vagabondbones]

Obsessed with the two meanings of

And if I was a child did it matter if you got to wash your hands?

As in:

Given that I was a child, did it matter that you got to wash your hands?

And

Given that you got to wash your hands, did it matter that I was a child?

[cringe--is--dead]

𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔻𝕠 𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕊𝕚𝕔𝕜

Incl. Umemiya, Hiragi, Tsubakino, Choji, Togame

Umemiya

Having grown up in a group home, Umemiya knows how to be the best care giver ever

That being said: he’s also insanely clingy and affectionate on his worst days

He’s attentive to a T

With Kotoha’s help he’s bringing you homemade soup, full of fresh veggies from his garden

He’s making you tea and keeping water bottles near by whenever you even mention wanting a drink

Sends his four kings out to watch over while he’s with you because he refuses to leave your side until your healthy— doesn’t matter if it’s a cold or the flu

Still cuddles with you, despite you telling him he’ll get sick— he tells you his love and affection will make you feel better

Whenever your fever spikes he’s quickly getting a wet cloth, laying it on your forehead and humming a wordless tune or telling you stories softly

He’s there to wake you up whenever you have fever induced nightmares, and holds your hair back if you rush to the bathroom to be sick

If you even feel the tiniest bit insecure because you feel gross and greasy he shuts that down: by telling you:

“In sickness and in health!” “That’s— those are wedding vows?” “Ha, yeah! But think of them as…pre-engagement, pre-wedding vows now! Hey— your face is all red, did your fever spike again?”

If you’re far enough into your relationship he’ll help you bathe: his hands are gentle as he washes your hair, no wandering touches as he helps you clean your body

He’s so soft you nearly fall asleep in the water, lulled into a serene peace by his soft voice and gentle touches

He combs your hair once it’s dry enough, braiding it to keep it out of your face and wrapping you your freshly washed sheets you have no idea when he had time to clean

Overall; 11/10 to take care of you when you’re sick

Even if he does end up getting sick himself after

Hiragi

You probably got sick after he warned you to bring your coat with you or not to stay up too late let’s be real

Dad sighs and twitching eyes

But he’s buying all the best meds and electrolyte drinks

I personally believe this man knows how to cook so he’s making you homemade soup, congee and other things his mom used to make him when he was sick

Brings a type of lemon “candy” that helps with your throat, knows they work because he keeps them on him in case Kaji needs them

He stays with you, but he gives you space

1. Because he needs to make sure he doesn’t get sick— he has to take care of you firstly, and secondly he cannot let Umemeiya free of him for too long

2. Because he knows you’ll want space occasionally; to sleep, to rest, to regenerate your social battery

While you nap he’s cleaning around; washing and folding clothes, doing dishes, organizing your mail— he’s completely husband material

When you want him near he’ll have you lay your head on his lap, and he’ll run his fingers through your hair and read to you— literally any book you choose he’ll read without hesitation

He’ll be so attentive and supportive when you’re sick, and he makes sure to continue to give you vitamins even after to help you avoid being sick again

But even when you are he’ll be there again

15/10 he’s just so HUSBAND MATERIAL

Tsubakino

LOOK

if there’s one thing anyone knows about me it’s I am a Tsubaki stan first and a human second

that being said

I imagine him taking care of you being sick is, while sweet, also a bit panicky

I imagine he has this weirdly insane immune system so he’s hardly ever gotten sick, and he’s also an only child so this isn’t super familiar territory

but he tries

does so much research he might go a bit overboard

“My darling! I got cough medicine, fever reducers, cooling masks, some cough drops Hiragi suggested! I got some water bottles and Suo-chan suggested different teas— I wasn’t sure which one would be best so I got all six! Nirei-chan said to get electrolytes so I got different flavors of those! And Kotoha-chan made soup! And congee! And I can order more, in fact I have a few different soups on the way!”

he just hates seeing you feel so bad

he’s a ball of nerves around you, always checking in on you and asking what you want, what you need, what you’d like

you can’t even be annoyed he’s so sweet

he helps you bathe, much like Umemiya, he’s sweet and attentive

he brings over his own stuff too; bathbombs, shower steamers, hair masks, face masks

he can’t make the illness disappear but you’ll at least feel clean and good on the outside

he takes his time with your hair and face, and he’s basically your personal masseuse in the bath

you’re never felt so relaxed despite being as sick as a dog

even though you’re sick he’s still quick to press kisses to your cheeks and forehead, face red from fever, embarrassment, and lipstick stains now

paints your nails while you rest with a cold press on your head, tells you about the latest debacle between Umemeiya and Hiragi and Sugishita and Sakura

by a miracle he doesn’t get sick

and he stores all the leftover meds and electrolytes (there’s a lot) between your place and his so he’s prepared next time

overall: 1000000/10

realistically: 10/10 (but always 100000/10 in my eyes)

Choji

oh boy

o h b o y

let it be known you try to hide the fact you’re sick from him for as long as possible

read: you fail

he’s showing up at like 7am, waking you up and charging in

did he bring anything?

of course

he’s brought snacks

not healthy ones

you’re not hungry because you’re nauseous, so he just stores them in your fridge and comes to cuddle you

he’ll wait on your every command don’t get me wrong

want water? he’s grabbing you a glass

need to go to the bathroom? he’s helping you up and walking you there, waiting outside the door and helping you back

bored? he’ll tell you all the thoughts in his head! and there’s a lot!

hungry? he’s grabbing those snacks for you!

he’s attentive and sweet, but he definitely is spoiled by Togame so much he’s not entirely sure how to take care of a sick person

but he’s strong so he’ll just beat your illness for you!

he’ll hold you while you rest, turn your fan on when you say you’re hot, turn it off when you’re cold

he tries to braid your hair while you rest, it’s messy but he tried

he ends up getting sick before you’re even better yourself

now Togame is tasked with coming to your place and taking care of both of you

overall: 7/10

he tries he really does

but he charges in with no instructions and just love

which is great but doesn’t treat the flu

Togame

he probably has taken care of an ill choji (^) so he knows what he’s doing

the patience of a saint holy—

he comes to see you when you’re asleep, and he’s silent as he unpacks stuff from the nearby convention store

you wake up startled at him just chilling, probably drinking a ramune and reading something

he keeps his voice soft as he asks if you’re hungry or thirsty

helps you sit up as he hands you a water bottle, and if your hands are too shaky he’d holding it for you to drink out of

he won’t even let you open your mouth to apologize before he’s giving you that stupidly soft smile and telling you he’s happy to take care of you

he keeps the curtains shut so the light in your room is dim, and he brings in candles with your favorite scent so the lights don’t hurt your eyes and the scent helps you feel calmer

not much of a cook himself when it comes to specific food to help you, but he grabbed take out on the way and heats up the perfect portions whenever you’re hungry

not too much so you leave food on the plate but not too little so you’re still hungry after

the man that he is

can definitely see him massaging your hands, your arms and your shoulders cause you’re tense from feeling ill

keeps a bucket or a bag nearby in case you get sick and can’t make it to the toilet

does a little braid to keep your hair out of your face, jokes about how he learned how to braid his hair so he’d he perfect at it for you

tries to brew you tea, and either burns it or under-steeps it

you both opt for just water for the time being

doesn’t get sick, but definitely sleeps for an entire day after you’re healthy

you both do actually— a long sleep cuddled up together

overall; 13/15 i think i made myself fall more in love with him

[megalomaniacz]

hey bae! if you’re still taking requests could i please have something fluffy with mean! ellie and sensitive/soft! reader. it can be whatever u want, loving the pink theme btw 🎀⭐️!

CRYBABY! - (E.W)

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you’ve had a seriously bad day, and now you’re stuck with the shittiest person you’ve ever met while you wait for your friends to get home.

a/n: thank u for acknowledging the theme! it took so long to put together 😭. also i really hope this fulfills your request. would you guys want a part 2 w/ smut this time?

“crybaby, crybaby. we need to cry. and if we do, i know that would be alright.” — edit

masterlist.

ellie fucking williams was an exceptional singer, guitarist, and had incredible stage presence. but more importantly: she was an asshole. a complete fucking dick, and not just the usual “too good for everyone” cocky. she was crude. she was vulgar and she knew exactly how to push people, you specifically. sometimes you thought that she walked around asking for a fight to prove herself to people. now, you think it’s so she can finally feel something. even if it’s a mind spinning jab at her face.

you did your best to stay away from her, despite you sharing friends; jesse and dina. you knew exactly how she was and you knew you couldn’t handle it. no matter how many times you tried to let her little remarks brush past you, you always found yourself wanting to go lower. and each time you were around her it got harder to bite your tongue.

today was a bad day. a shit day. one of your worst. you found fraudulent activity on your bank card, got hit with a frustratingly large and urgent bill, and your washing machine broke. all in the span of an hour. the customers at your job had been extra rude and to make matters worse, your manager yelled at you for a mistake you didn’t even make.

all you wanted to do was go over to dina & jesse’s and eat brownies while they treated you like the child they’d yet to have. dina rubbing your back and reassuring you that everything will be okay while jesse threatens to beat all your enemies bloody. you use the spare key you have to their apartment to messily trudge in, kicking your shoes off at the door and smiling as you open the fridge to find dina’s special 1,000 hour brownies.

“i keep telling her she should put weed in those.” echoes behind you, causing you to pause mid bite. there she is, leaning against the counter. eyes smudged with her signature stage eyeliner, sweat glistening on her skin, a tank top and her stage cargos sagging on her waist. gargling down a plastic water bottle that had definitely seen better days.

“where are dina and jesse?” you furrow your brows closing the fridge. you grab a napkin to place the brownie on, and move further back near the door away from her. just in case.

“they went to go grab some groceries, but they told me to stay here and wait for you.” she answers, finishing the bottle off.

fuck. how long were they going to be gone? you couldn’t imagine spending more than 2 minutes alone with this loose lipped devil. her eyes narrow as she looks you up and down before smiling. here she goes.

“bad day? cause it looks like it.”

“well it definitely isn’t going to get better with you around me.” you snap back.

“ouch. i’m hurt.” she laughs. deviously. a hand over her chest as she pushes off the counter to chuck the empty bottle into the trash can.

you move over to the living room, sitting yourself on the couch. maybe if you ignore her she’ll get bored and leave you alone? maybe she’ll get so bored she’ll actually leave. god, please get the fuck out of here.

she follows you though, sitting way too close for comfort and turning on the tv. you pull your phone out, immediately opening tumblr and mindlessly scrolling. hoping that dina and jesse will be home soon.

“d tells me you stopped showing up to gigs because of me. is that true?” she breaks the silence between you two. you shrug her off. “you’re not the easiest person to be around, williams.” you state.

“so what’s wrong with me? i’d love to hear it straight from the horses mouth.” she scoffs, scooting closer. when you attempt to ignore her she pulls your phone out of your hand. staring into your eyes with her very own. piercing through your soul for a response. “is it because i called you an idiot?”

“among other things, but it doesn’t surprise me that that’s all you remember.” you reach for your phone but she pulls it back. this causes you to pinch her, and she smacks your hand away still holding your phone back. “remind me then.”

you feel her taunting tone. her want— need to push at you. to push your buttons and boundaries until you break. it’s like a game to her, and you certainly weren’t in the mood for it today.

“can you give me my phone so i can find out when dina and jesse are coming home?” you sigh. her behavior reminded you of a customer you’d had earlier who’d treated you like garbage because you weren’t smiling. you felt tears welling up but pushed them down. you never cried in front of ellie. because of her, maybe, but never to her face. you’d never live it down.

“can you answer my question? so i can apologize or whatever. d is really on my ass about it.”

you scoff. “ofcourse you aren’t genuinely sorry. you probably don’t even remember all the fucked up shit you say and do to people. half of the time you ignore me and the other half you treat me like i’m a burden. do you remember when you guys had your first real show? i told the security i knew you and you pretended like i was a stranger.”

“jesse was sooo pissed you didn’t show up.” she laughs. “did he yell at you?”

“yeah. thought i was lying because you told him i was. called me a shit friend and a liar until i showed him proof. why am i the only one you treat like this?”

“you’re definitely not the—“ you reach for your phone again, but she’s quicker than you. pushing you away and laughing at your lockscreen, which was a picture you’d taken of yourself. one you felt incredibly confident in. all of that confidence was withering away slowly and you could guess it’d only been 10 minutes. “only one.”

“that’s so much worse. seriously, i don’t have time for this today. i’ll just go home.” you sniffle and fail to hide it. the tears were in the back of your throat and you felt like her personal rag doll all over again. what you’d finally gotten away from the last week was haunting you all over again. her taunting, her rudeness. she knew what she was doing and she didn’t even care.

“are you gonna cry? am i making you cry?”

you gulp, biting your lip to fight the shakiness in your voice. “just give it back.” is all you can muster up. her arm stretches up and as you reach for it she tucks it in her back pocket and sits on it.

you feel the tears begin to spill out of your eyes and you quickly turn around and lean into the couches arm. hands over your face as you pathetically attempt to calm yourself. you feel a hand on your shoulder and you push it away before realizing it’s ellie handing you back your phone.

it takes you a couple blinks, convinced the tears have obstructed your vision. the very same ellie who’d tripped you in front of a crowd of people last month, was being nice? her face has softened, genuine concern replacing the taunting gaze she previously had. she places a hand on your back and shushes you.

“i’m sorry. i’ve never made you cry before, i’m sorry.” she speaks softly. she almost seems…confused? is this what it takes to get her to realize that what she does actually fucking hurts you? for you to break down in front of her? for her to get a peek at the silent nights you’d spent sobbing over another one of her “jokes”? all this time?

you wipe your eyes and begin to laugh, which startles her and causes her to lean back. “you’re such an ass, ellie. god, you’re such a fucking dick.” you shake your head and breathe. she doesn’t respond, just stares at you with concern. brows furrowed as she concentrates on your body language. the way you’re leaning closer towards her.

“today was such a bad day.” you cry out in frustration, dipping your head into her lap. you just lay there, sobbing. she doesn’t move you, but instead rubs your back. shushing you. whispering that it’ll be okay, and you’d never admit it because it was coming from her, but you really needed it in that moment.

she pulled you in closer to her, turning you onto your side so she can rub her thumb across your cheek. wiping some of your tears away. you begin to cry even harder, but she doesn’t push you away. even when her pants are soaked and snotty. she lets you lay there, and cry into her.

[queenbee298]

Poppy Playtime x Gender Neutral reader “Finally Free” Part 2

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••Before I start the story, I want to say thank you for the likes on Part 1 of this story and A shoutout to @scally-wiggles716 for making my profile picture. If you guys have some suggestions or requests for some future stories, please don’t hesitate to ask and comment. Now let’s begin.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

After you and your new family finished dinner, you took the glasses and plates and placed them in the sink. You’ll wash them later. Speaking of washing, the toys needed a bath. You needed a shower as well.

You all were dirty covered with dirt and blood. You didn’t know how you were going to clean Doey or Poppy. Poppy probably needed to be wiped down and her hair washed. Kissy would need her fur washed and brushed. Doey on the other hand, would be a challenge, you could soak him in soapy water and try to knead his dry.

Y/N: “Hey Doey can you follow me upstairs.”

Doey: “Sure! Here I come, Bud!’’

The two of you headed upstairs and into the bathroom.

Y/N: “Can you look for some body wash, towels, shampoo, and conditioner. I want to give you guys a bath and washed Kissy and Poppy’s hair/fur.”

Doey gave you a thumbs up and looked through your bathroom closet and found the supplies you needed for the bath. You prepared some warm water and bubbles for the toys and called up the others upstairs.

The mini critters were bathe first due to them being the smallest other than Poppy. You’ll clean her second last since you wanted you find her now clothes then her casual dress.

The mini critters were bathe first and Doey helped you clean them. The water was warm enough so Doey didn’t have to worry about the temperature. The mini critters had a ball in the tub. They were splashing and swimming were each other.

After there bath was over, you drained the water and prepared new water for Kissy. Doey took a towel and wrap they up like a big burrito. They were in your bedroom. You had a heater in your room so they would be nice and warm.

Kissy’s bath was next. The bath water was running and you had you hair products for Kissy. You had Japanese Cherry Blossom shampoo. I tell you it was not easy cleaning Kissy. She was an 8 feet tall toy was knots of tangled fur, but you tried your best with cleaning her.

After you got her cleaned up, you got her a towel, but she was going to do something. You knew what she was up to. She was soaking wet and she would shake the rest of the water off herself.

Y/N: “Kissy, No! I swear to God if you do…”

But that didn’t stop her from shaking to water off her and onto you and the bathroom floor. You were soaked and the floor was slippery. You glared at Kissy, and she was amused. She let out little giggles. She patted you head as a way to apologize since she can’t talk.

After your little shower, you patted her down so you could get some more water off her. Now that she wasn’t as wet as before, you took a blow dryer and brush. You say her on the toilet and got to work.

After 20-30 minutes, you were done. She was soaking wet fluffy and warm. You took her to your bedroom with the others. The mini critters were playing tag around your room, talking with Doey, or jumping on your bed.

Y/N: “Be careful. Poppy, before I start you bath, I want to find or make you some clothes other then your dress.”

You and Poppy looked through your clothes for some fabric or and little clothes.

Poppy: “What about this? I think I can fit this.”

It was an old shirt for some old dolls you had as a child. They will be perfect for Poppy.

You prepared her bath in the sink since she was smaller.

Once she was settled in her bath, you took her pigtails off and began to clean her. After a while of silence, she spoke up.

Poppy: “Angel…

Y/N: “Yes, Poppy?”

Poppy: “Words can’t describe how thankful I am that you took us in… even for what I did.”

Y/N: “Poppy, it’s okay. What matters is that we’re out the factory together. I won’t blame you for what happened. You were afraid and trapped for years. But I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you or others as l am here.’’

Poppy: “… Thank you, Angel.

She laid her head your hand. She felt so safe with you.

After her bath, she blow-dried her and her hair and put the little pajamas on her. They were blue and white striped pajamas with stars. She looked extremely cute with they on.

You took Yarnaby to the bathroom next, like Kissy, Yarnaby needed his mane washed and combed. His name was worse then Kissy’s fur. You tried your best to detangle his mane. He was soaking wet and he was going to wet the water off himself.

Y/N: “Yarnaby… Please don’t.”

But he didn’t and shook the water off his body. The mess was worse than Kissy’s. Water splashed on the walls, the mirrors, the cabinets and you.

You sighed in annoyance and blow dried his mane.

After you cleaned up the water, you prepared for the main challenge, Doey. You prepared his bath water nice warm water for Doey and called him in the bathroom.

As he was in the bathtub and you tried to clean him, you tried to start a conversation with him.

Y/N: “So big fella, how are things going for you?”

Doey: “Hehe, I’ve never felt so happy now! I’m with all my friends and I’m with you now!”

Y/N: “ Aww thanks big guy. <3”

After his bath, you tried to dry him off, but the water absorbed his body.

Now that everyone was cleaned, you went downstairs and brought back some pillows, blankets, and an air mattress for the toys. Once the bedding was situated, you got some pajamas for yourself and went to take a shower.

After you were finished with your shower, I decided to go to bed. You saw the toys were all ready asleep. Kissy and Poppy were snuggled up with each other like how that were in the car .The mini critters were spread other on both beds around Kissy and Doey. You crawled into bednear Doey and l laid down with the mini critters.

Y/N: “Good night guys, Sweet Dreams.”

☀���☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

8:43am. I woke up before for the other toys, but I notice something was missing. NO! Someone is missing. Angel wasn’t in bed.

Doey: “Psst, Poppy?”

Poppy: “ Ugh, what’s wrong, Doey?

Doey: “Angel’s gone!”

Poppy: “WHAT!?”

Poppy and Doey searched the house for Y/N, but they were nowhere to be found.

Poppy: “Oh my gosh, where did they go!?

Doey: “How should I know!?”

Doey snapped at Poppy, but calmed himself down.

Doey: “I’m sorry… We need to alert the others and try to think of ways to find Y/N.”

10 minutes later Poppy and Doey woke up the others and just like Doey and Poppy, the other toys were in a panic too. Kissy and Yarnaby was whimpering worrying you abandoned them as Poppy tried to comfort. The mini critters were scared asking Doey what were they going to do.

Doey: “Everyone settle down, we need to remain calm and check if Y/N’s still around or if they left.”

Poppy hoped that was not the answer, she didn’t want you to leave him again. After all those alone.

But after Doey finished his sentence, the door rattled and opened. It was you with bags of foods and clothes. Before you could set your bags down, the toys rushed to you and crushed you into a bear hug.

Y/N: “Whoa, whoa, guys. What’s the matter?”

Doey: “Nothing, we just missed you.”

Poppy: “ We thought you left us!”

You smiled and hugged them back.

Y/N: “Aw, don’t worry. I’ll never leave you guys.”

The hug lasted a couple minutes before you broke out the hug and headed to the kitchen. You left an hour ago to go shopping for food, drinks, candy, clothes, and toys for your new family.

You prepared eggs, hash browns, bacon, and pancakes for your new family. It was 9:37am and you finished breakfast. The toys rushed to the kitchen and sat down at the table. As the toys are and chat with each other you think about how worry they were when you left. Next time you’ll be more careful next time you leave.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Hello readers of this mediocre story, I hope you enjoyed this story. It took 4 hours to made 🥲. But if you want to request something, don’t hesitate to ask.

[babygirl-riley]

Hii🌸 if u don't mind would u pls write for simon w fem reader who's having a difficult pregnancy??:'( if not that's ok, luv ur stuff btw🩷

In Sickness and Health

Simon’s heart breaks when watching going through your first pregnancy

A/N: Omg i watched my old co worked go through a hard pregnancy. It never looks easy no matter how it is going. I love this idea too ❤️

Warnings: sickness, pregnancy, hard pregnancy, underlining depression, arguments, marriage, soft!simon, husband!simon, dad!simon, fluff, little angst, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

When you found out you were pregnant, it was obvious. No period. Your cravings became intense. You threw up every fucking morning. Simon and you were excited that you were pregnant, people encouraging you that the morning sickness would pass. Instead. It came harder and longer. You cramped all the time, you bled once. Thinking you lost the baby when in fact you didn’t. Doctor reassured that it was normal in some women.

However, both of you didn’t expect the pregnancy to get harder than what people said it would have been. Your mom even said that what you are going through isn’t what she did. You are through your third trimester and nothing changed. Eventually your midwife came to put fluids in you since you couldn’t hold anything in. Throwing up was your new aesthetic. It got harder for you to work so you had to quit your job and stay home. Best friends with your toilet, you slept there day and night until your body grew bigger.

Simon was ordered from Price to stay home until the baby arrived and settled. Price heard from Simon about how the pregnancy has been not the best. You been up all night not being able to sleep from being too hot to throwing up to not being comfortable. Which caused Simon not to sleep, due to being worried about you. He would hold your hair up if you were too tired to even notice it was falling inside the toilet. Simon would wash your hair as you cried. Shushing you to keep you from having a panic attack.

You hated all of what was happening to you where you couldn’t enjoy being pregnant. Counting the days not to see your kid but to have her out. It was like you were hating the fact of everything no that was happening. Feeling like a curse then a miracle. Simon was the opposite even though he was heartbroken to see his love going through only hardship, the thought of having a mini both of you made him warm inside. Bringing it up once had you excited until you would hurl once more.

Simon would bend over backwards for anything you needed. Needed a bath Done. Needed a craving. Done and done again. Needed to be carried to the bed. Done. Needed a belly lift. Done. Anything was possible for Simon if it was for you. Nothing would stop him from helping you.

Was it perfect? Not always. Even when you both were tired and exhausted, you would fight, he would always be right by you. No matter what the fight was about, lately things that were ridiculous.

You both finished a fight and made up as he pet your damp hair, rubbing his other hand on your swollen belly. You were laying on his chest in bed, having your belly rest on the comfort of the mattress.

Sweat consumed you, your body working overboard on making your child and keeping you from not dying from everything else. It was silent before you sobbed. You were done, nothing for you. Your feet hurt. You felt like a whale. And your husband hated you. You’ve been only a bitch since you got pregnant and you were done.

You kept repeating in your head that he truly didn’t want to be here that you were just an excuse of a wife. That he never wanted to help you. That he wished you were gone. All because he didn’t get you your pebble ice. Simon had to leave the house for a while and what did he bring back? The stupid fucking ice. You called him a coward for leaving and not say anything about you said just for him to gift you?

Simon’s heart broke when your son burst out, your body shaking. Concern written on his face as he made your face turn to him. ���Love what’s wrong?”

You cried harder as you laid your face in his shirt. “I want her out. And I feel terrible that I don’t want to do this anymore. That I have been a bitch. That I can’t stop throwing up. That this whole pregnancy hasn’t been what people have been saying.” He listened to you rubbing your back in soothing patterns. “I’ve been a terrible wife. I can’t believe I have been awful to you. You only been kind and generous and loving.”

Simon shook his head. “I could never do what you are doin’ dove,” He said quickly as he rubbed your shoulders. “This pregnancy is not been the best for ya.”

You sobbed harder as you clenched your hands into his shirt. Simon started to hush you quietly and soothingly. “You don’t deserve me.”

Simon froze from the comment, he used to say that to you at the beginning of your relationship. Telling you that he is a monster and that he would plague you with his darkness. That you were the angel and he was a demon, instead you showed him that he was the opposite. He was just lost in a broken world of his. Simon knew you were not like this. Not confident. Angry. Negative. No, you were the opposite of all of it.

Simon scooted so he would have you sit up against the frame. “Don’t you say that.” He said sternly.

You scoffed. “It’s true, I called you mean things. I said mean nasty things that are not true. Just over ice? Like how…”

“Stop,” He said stopping you dead in your tracks. “I know you didn’t mean it. Never have you showed me that. Baby,” He watched as your lips trembled, as your skin paled. “I know you love me, you are in pain just like I was. Let me help you bring yourself back as you make our child. You’re almost there love.”

You inhaled deeply as you looked away. “I’m sorry,” You turned to him and placed your hand on his cheek. “I love you Simon.”

Simon smiled and grabbed your hand kissing your knuckles. “I love you too. This is through sickness and health yeah? We promised each other that. So that is what gonna happen.”

You laid back down on him, your heart swelled with joy. You didn’t know how you got such an amazing husband. But all you knew is that he was your soulmate and you were his.

Another month went by and the baby was in distress from your body. She would be a month and half early which could lead into problems. However since your was fighting off too many things it wanted the baby to come out. You laid in the hospital bed as they induced you to push your baby girl out. You cried as Simon held his hand on yours and a cloth against your forehead.

“You got this mama,” The gynecologist announced looking up at you. “She is almost there!”

You looked at Simon concern written on your face and his. “It’s al’ight mamas. ‘M right here.” He whispered soothing you by brushing your damp strands back.

With a couple last pushes you heard a wail. Immediately relief went through your body as you laid all the way down into the bed. You panted as nurses and the doctor tended to the baby. Simon watched back and forth between you and the baby. “Go-Go see her.” You whispered gulping air.

You watched as he gave you a concerned look then nodded. You watched as he looked over the shoulders and smiled. Your heart fluttering. One of the nurses came to look over you. She said something but you couldn’t hear her. You felt nauseous and weak, lightheadedness coming in full swing.

The nurse called out as you felt your eyes roll. After that it was dark, you felt like actual sleep took hold. When you woke up, you were in a different room in the hospital, mouth was dry. When you looked over you saw Simon asleep with your baby girl against his bare chest.

You smiled. “They have been so cute,” You turned your head to see the doctor walking in. “How are you feeling?”

You hummed and coughed a bit. “Thirsty.”

“I bet. You had a blood clot form after giving birth to your baby girl. It can be common and could cause from your body being on overdrive to fix you. You are on blood thinners so take it easy. You have a healthy baby girl, she might be a little smaller than usual but that is expected from a early birth,” she explained looking over your vitals. “Your husband knows what to do. Just get to know your baby and rest.”

That you did, Simon once again by both you and both of your baby girl. Never have you felt so much relief and love. You smiled as Simon changed her diaper humming softly to her. In sickness and health. Is all you thought of as he gave you a kiss handing you your baby girl.

[rosenclaws]

Hi!! I’d love to see you do the prompt “Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it.” with Logan! Was thinking of the reader who’s so self loathing of her own powers opening up for the first time towards Logan 🥺

warnings: angst/fluff, Logan has interesting teaching methods lol

600 follower drabble masterlist

wc: 1.2k

a/n: So this also...turned into more than a drabble oops. I got carried away I can't help it asdflk;h. Anyways I totally got inspired by ATLA for some of the logan pep talk if u can tell lol.

The mansion was so lonely. It shouldn't be but it is. Especially for you. Brought here as a child you grew up here. You were excited, hopeful that maybe you could start a new life here. But then your powers went haywire.

Just when you thought things could be different your emotions got the better of you. Fire raged through the mansion and you couldn't stop it. The more you panicked the worst it got.

When the flames were put out all you could see was the destruction that ravaged the once spotless mansion. It was an accident. Charles knew it and so did everyone else but that didn't stop the whispers, the fear. You never wanted this.

You did all you could to suppress your powers for years. Leaving the school and never looking back. Years passed and you managed to live a quite life. You went to work and went home. It was a lonely life but you couldn't hurt anyone so it you learned to live it.

Then one day you got a letter from Charles. It was a matter of such importance that you had no choice but to return. It was weird being back.

It was in the dead of the night that you found yourself alone. Just as you remembered. This time wandering through the halls of the mansion. Your fingers traced the familiar paintings and furniture. A frown coming over your face as you trace the faint scorch marks that still remain.

"So those were you." A deep voice startles you.

You feel a light flame escape your fingertips as you shove you cross your arms and hide your hands away. There stands Logan with a cigar in his mouth. You breathe a sigh of relief as you lower your arms.

"Sorry, didn't meant to scare you." He holds out his cigar and you roll your eyes. He's been trying to get you to use your powers, to light his damn cigars because he's too lazy to reach into his own pocket.

"Come on, just a little flame." He says with a smirk.

"Can I help you Logan?" Though you're glaring he can see that small smile.

You and Logan were unlikely friends as you put it. The two of you understood each other. Understood the want to hide away. Don't get close and you won't get hurt. Even with that mantra somehow you were each others exception.

Maybe it was stupid but having Logan was nice. He was nice in his own weird way. Looked out for you, joked with you on the rare occasion. Plus he was easy on the eyes, but you don't let yourself go there. Love...it's just not meant for you. You don't do love and neither does Logan. Even if you want it, even if sometimes he finds his way into your dreams.

"Nope." He gestures for you to follow him so you do. Walking quietly through the halls until he leads you outside. A chill washes over you step outside.

"Just a little light for me sweetheart?" Okay the first time was charming but now it's getting annoying.

"Will you quit it." You snap. Logan raises an eyebrow and you sigh. Sitting down on a bench and looking down at your hands.

"You know I don't use my powers anymore."

"I know."

"So why do you keep asking?" He shrugs and sits down next to you.

"Because, I think you're being ridiculous."

"Excuse me?" You scoff. You clench your fists as you glare at Logan.

"So what you burned some wood big deal. That really all it takes for you to run?"

You're hurt and confused where the hell this is coming from. You thought he'd understand you but clearly you were wrong.

"You know what Logan fuck you." You hiss as you stand up.

Logan grabs your wrist before you can walk away and in a fit of anger you push him away. Flames coming out of your hand and hitting him square in the chest. You gasp as his flannel catches fire. Without thinking you press your hand and kill the flame.

"Logan I-"

"Stop." He grabs your wrist and points to an empty fire pit.

"Light it."

"Logan I can't."

"Yes you can sweetheart," He tilts your head towards him. Looking at you with a sparkle in his eye.

"Trust yourself." You take a deep breath and send a fireball into the pit, lighting it up.

Your hand tingles as you use your powers for the first time in a long time. You wait for the other shoe to drop. For the fire to rage past what it's meant to be but it never does. Slowly you hold your hand out focus, the fire slowly gets smaller until it's snuffed out. You stare at your hand in awe. Control. You had control.

"Fire is destruction." Logan interlaces your fingers with his. He's got this smile that you've never really seen before.

"But it's also life, it's beautiful. You're beautiful." You bite your lip as he squeezes your hand. There's a fear that you'll burn him without thinking but he heals. You can't hurt him.

"Why are you helping me?" Why does he care this much? He didn't have to do this, you're not a student and yet here he is. Pushing you past your worries.

"I..." Logan tries to find the words. You're right he doesn't do this but he did for you because, well because..."I love you sweetheart."

Your eyes cloud with tears as you take in his words. He doesn't mean it can he? I mean, it's does he understand what that means. What it means to love you.

“Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it. Please." You don't think you could handle it. He's already got your heart and it won't take much to crush it.

"Are you doubting me? I'm over a hundred years old I know what love feels like." Logan brushes your lips with his thumb, he's not great with words but he knows what he feels. No one can tell him any different.

Your eyes flutter shut as he kisses you. He smells like cigar smoke and he tastes like honey. The kiss a little rough, you can tell he's trying to hold back. To be gentle which he's not always great at. You pout when he breaks the kiss, already wanting more.

"Later." He promises after noticing the look on your face.

You walk back through the mansion hand in hand. It's better at this hour, no prying eyes and whispers. For now it's just you and him. Though something does cross your mind as you reach your room.

"Did you...Were you trying to make me mad on purpose?" He smirks and pulls out another cigar from somewhere.

"It worked didn't it?" Unbelievable.

"You're an idiot Logan, what if I couldn't control it? What if I burned down the mansion, again?!" Logan rolls his eyes and kisses you again. Pushing you against the door. Your thoughts turn to mush as he kisses your neck.

"You aren't the monster you think you are." He whispers and you freeze. His words hitting you like a brick. Logan knows what it's like to be a monster, a weapon. He's the monster if anything. But you? You could never be. Not in his eyes.

Before he leaves he hands you his cigar. You shake your head and laugh. Holding out your hand you produce a small flame and he lights his cigar.

"Was all this just so I could give you a light?" You ask teasingly. Logan chuckles and presses another kiss to your cheek.

"Absolutely." As much as you want to invite him in your room, you decide to wait. Rushing anything with Logan is the last thing you want. You want the time to be together. A good fire needs to grow before it becomes a roar.

"Goodnight Logan."

"Goodnight sweetheart."

Your fingers slowly unlace as he walks away. You don't want him to go, fearing that this is just a one off night. There's no way you can have control so easily but then he looks back at you. He's got this look on his face that makes you feel like everything is going to be alright and for once you believe it.

[whomeidontknowthem]

Punishments

Content warning: discussion of past child abuse (physical and emotional), mentions of scars, starvation, punishments.

Caretaker saw the exact moment Whumpee's scarred hands relaxed, releasing the plate to its short attempt at flight. The shatter didn't even sound that loud with all the TV noise and running water in the background, but Caretaker felt his attention sharpen, focusing on the teen's face. Whumpee's expression was carefully neutral; only their eyes shined with something wild. Caretaker put the knife by the cutting board, turned the fire under the pan down and faced the kid.

"Okay," he said, keeping his voice level. "Why did you do that?"

Whumpee met his eyes with something like a challenge. "You have to punish me now," they stated, tone forcefully brave. Caretaker saw the way they shifted, moving their hands behind their back, hiding the way they had to shake.

He hummed, taking a moment to think the situation through. "I told you last time that I won't be punishing you."

"You said you wouldn't punish an accident," Whumpee corrected. "This isn't an accident. I did it on purpose. You saw it. You have to punish me now."

"I won't," Caretaker repeated. The kid stared at him, wide-eyed. He sighed, "I really did mean when I said it. There are no punishments here. I won't hurt you. We'll just clean up the glass together, and—"

"What if I refuse to clean," Whumpee demanded. Caretaker raised his brows before wrangling his expression back under control. It was nearly the first time Whumpee dared to interrupt — rude, definitely. It made them feel more like an actual teen. Teenagers just had to be bratty from time to time. It was healthy for them. Caretaker hadn't got to be a father to one, but he was sure of that.

"Well, then I'll have to clean it up by myself," He shrugged. He made sure to sound unbothered. "I'll have to do it before cooking, of course, so the dinner's gonna have to wait."

The kid seemed to freeze at that, their body going unnaturally still in a way that screamed Caretaker did something wrong. But before he could ask, Whumpee wondered, voice tight, "No dinner?"

Ah. "Of course not," Caretaker hurried to assure. Whumpee was still too thin, they'd been starved before. "There will be dinner, just slightly later without your help. You'll get to eat either way."

Caretaker smiled, hoping it would get the kid to relax. It didn't: their face only seemed to grow tenser. They stared at Caretaker, thinking about something. Then: "What if I break another plate?"

"Ah," Caretaker replied, lightly. "I would really rather you didn't? It would be rather inconvenient."

"What if I break two more?" The teen continued. "Three? All of them?" It sounded like a challenge. They moved their hand to where the clean plates stood in a nice careful stack, freshly washed and settled by the sink.

Caretaker took a deep breath. "I would really rather you didn't," he repeated. "Those cost money. We'll have to eat from the salad bowl and it won't be convenient, and then go to a shop to buy more."

"You'll have to punish me," Whumpee insisted.

"I won't hurt you, kid. No matter what you do—"

"What if I hurt you," they replied instantly and flinched, as if scared by their own forcefulness. Even then, they didn't back down. "What if I— if I punched you. You can't just let it go. What if I kick you or- or take the knife," they said and gestured to the counter, barely missing the cheerful cup with childish scribbles for a pattern perched at its edge.

Caretaker took a deep, deep breath and answered, weighing each word carefully, "if you attack me, I would have to stop you," he stated, as calmly as he could. The idea of having to fight the terrified kid with a knife was not an appealing one. He silently prayed it would not get to it. "I'd try to restrain you so you don't hurt me. I'd wait for you to calm down, and then we'd sit down to talk some more. I won't hurt you."

You're angry," Whumpee pointed.

Caretaker huffed, "I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm… Frustrated," he relented and sighed. He felt extremely unprepared for the conversation. "Look, kid. I know you expect me to be like that asshole. But I won't be. I'll try my damn hardest to make sure of that."

"You don't like this conversation," Whumpee stated, again.

Caretaker shook his head, "no."

"What if I make it continue? What if I anger you?"

"If you do anger me, I will leave the room until I calm down. I won't hurt you just because I don't like a conversation," Caretaker promised.

Whumpee stared at him, lips pressed tightly. They reached out and took the stack of plates.

Caretaker watched them closely. "Look, Whumpee…"

"You can't just let me act like this!" They yelled. Caretaker couldn't help their brows rising at the sudden shift in tone. As if the scream broke the dam, the other reactions poured out of them: the trembling fingers, the suddenly wet, shaky breaths, the need to blink and look up to hold back the tears. Caretaker shifted his weight, unsure if he should step closer or remain where he was. Even after months of living together, knowing whether the teen needed comfort or space at any given moment was beyond him.

He settled on continuing with the words, "Whumpee. Even if I disapprove of your actions, I will not hurt you for them. I'll talk to you, I'll ask you to help clean up afterwards, I'll try to help you find out what's wrong and how to make it better so you don't have to throw dishes around. I will not hurt you."

"But what if it doesn't make me learn? What if I don't follow the rules, and- and act like a brat and I don't listen to you and I never- I never stop? You'll have to punish me, you'll have to get rid of me, you can't just- you can't just let me do whatever! You can't just! How can I learn if there's no punishment!"

"You've learned how to wash dishes well enough," Caretaker pointed out.

"It's different!"

"How so?"

Whumpee stared at him, and seemed to come up with no answer. Their fingers slackened around the stack, and Caretaker mentally prepared to not react when all of the dishes inevitably touched the floor. Whumpee sucked in a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob and settled the plates back onto the counter. "I don't understand," they slumped above the dishes.

"It's okay," Caretaker assured them. "You don't have to understand for it to be true." He let out a tentative breath and stepped closer, carefully choosing empty spots between the broken glass, but didn't reach out to touch. By now, he knew well enough not to — he'd been witness to how even the most innocuous of actions could throw them off and straight into panic, especially when they were already agitated.

"It isn't," they didn't look at him. "It's not how it works. You can't possibly expect to raise a— you had a daughter, hadn't you?" Caretaker froze, glad that the teen couldn't see his face. She was not a topic either of them breached; Whumpee knew she'd died; they knew the thought was still upsetting for Caretaker and were careful to never bring it up despite how obvious the ghost of her existence was still around the house in every bright colored piece of wallpaper and childish drawing kept on the wall. They continued on, either ignorant to his reaction or choosing to ignore it. "Surely you didn't just allow her to do whatever! There need to be rules, need to be limitations and consequences!"

"Whatever was given to you as 'rules and consequences' wasn't that, kid," Caretaker leaned on the counter and studied the ceiling. "Discipline isn't an excuse for cruelty."

"You have to have punished her."

"I have," he admitted and turned to the teen only for his gaze to settle on the cheerful little cup. "I wasn't as good of a father as I hoped I'd be. Children are frustrating — they are meant to be. If I knew how little time we had — how precious she was even at her worst, — maybe I'd have acted differently. God knows I wish I have. Whether she'd lived for longer or, well..." he swallowed. Shook his head. "You deserve better, anyway, and so — I'm trying."

"...Whumper said he loved me. This was why he had to make sure I had motivation to learn to be better. To not be a brat. He wanted me to be good."

Caretaker studied the face of the teen — the lines around their eyes and mouth despite the calm voice. The way they gripped the edge of the countertop and didn't seem to see anything before them. He sighed, deeply, and stated, "He was a fool and an asshole."

Whumpee didn't answer that, only tightened the grip. Caretaker had never heard them say a single bad word about Whumper. Despite the scars and the panic attacks, they seemed determined to never acknowledge the harm they had suffered; whether the kid genuinely didn't blame him or just kept their thoughts to themself, Caretaker couldn't know.

He hoped the latter was the case. Whumpee deserved to know that the way they were treated was not right.

"He wanted a perfect child that would never misbehave or bother him, and it's not possible. Hell, even an adult can't just never bother anyone else. We are all nuisances to each other. He demanded you weren't and punished you for not achieving the impossible all the time. It's on him, not on you."

The teen listened, Caretaker could tell, thought about it, seriously considered the idea for a while.

"Nobody would want a child who doesn't behave," they stated finally.

Caretaker huffed, frustrated. "If someone only wants a perfect child, they shouldn't be a parent to begin with."

"You wanted your daughter to—"

"I did not!"

They froze after that, both of them.

Caretaker slowly breathed out and unclenched his fists. He shouldn't be angry, he reminded himself. He shouldn't — the kid needed him to be calm and comforting. The memories of his daughter, taken from him so young, too young, by an illness he noticed too late, clung to his mind, too close and too real and too painful. He rubbed his eyes.

"Sorry, kid, I didn't mean to yell," he turned to Whumpee. They were still unmoving, still tense, as if waiting for a strike. Caretaker felt a wave of guilt wash over him. This child needed him to be much, much better. At moments as such he wondered how anyone could think that he could do this. How anyone could trust him with a kid at all, after he'd already failed once. There had to be someone better, he thought. There had to be.

"Let's just finish dinner together and go watch some movie, what do you think?" he proposed, keeping the tone light. If Whumpee heard how forced it sounded, they didn't show it.

The teen turned, slowly, avoiding looking at Caretaker. He kept the smile on his lips, hands relaxed where Whumpee could see them. That was it. They would go watch a movie and spend time together and talk later, when both have calmed down somewhat.

Whumpee put their hand atop the counter. Before Caretaker could react, they jerked it. Before Caretaker could react, his favorite cup, the one his daughter took such pleasure decorating, was already flying towards the floor. It shatter sounded like thunder in his ears.

Caretaker breathed in. Counted to ten. Breathed out. Repeated, over and over, eyes focused on the colorful shards, until he was certain he could keep his tone calm.

"This," he didn't raise his head but heard the teen step away, "was a jerk move."

"I'm so—" they stopped themself before the apology was out and gritted their teeth. Caretaker breathed, and then breathed some more, and even longer still, pushing down every bit of irritation and anger. Teens were meant to be bratty. Children were meant to be a bothersome nuisance that tested the patience of every adult stuck to be responsible for them.

Whumpee needed him to be calm. Needed to learn they were safe even if they misbehaved.

"Will you help me pick up the glass?" He finally raised his gaze. Whumpee was pale, eyes wide and lips tightly pressed in a scared line. They held his gaze and shook their head even as they stepped backwards, determination mixed with panic.

"It's okay," Caretaker kept his voice calm. "If you don't want to help, go watch some TV, will you? I'll call you when dinner is ready."

Whumpee stepped backwards again, flickering their gaze towards the living room before settling on watching his movements again. He raised his hands slowly and didn't move any closer.

"I'm still not going to hurt you." They didn't look like they believed, so he added, "I'm mad. You knew it was important to me and you knew it'd... hurt me." He relaxed his face as it contorted into a grimace. "I hope you don't do anything like this again. You're not getting punished. The dinner will be ready in an hour. I would appreciate some space until then. But if you need something, you can still come to me."

They watched him for long moments before slowly backing out of the kitchen. They didn't look away until they were behind the corner, and only they did Caretaker release a heavy, frustrated sigh.

Teenagers. Dealing with a teenager, especially such a traumatized one, was definitely far beyond what he was ever prepared to do.

He picked up the glass — both the plate and the cup combined — one little piece after the other, careful of the sharp edges. The cup had shattered into six bigger pieces, the silly snake with google eyes around the handle left unharmed while Caretaker had to try to put together the stick figures holding hands under a tree. There were still parts missing, the pieces so small he had little hope of finding them.

He sighed. Threw all of the glass in the trash bin. Vacuumed the spot quickly. Continued chopping the vegetables.

When he called Whumpee for dinner, they didn't respond. Caretaker could hear the TV still speaking in the living room but no sound from the teenager. It was normal, though, they were often awfully quiet.

He found them, huddled in a blanket and staring at the screen with unseeing eyes, when he brought two plates to the couch. They jerked when the cushion shifted under his weight and eyed Caretaker warily.

"You should eat," he pushed a plate across the coffee table, and they picked it up after a few bits of hesitation.

The dinner passed in silence, as did the rest of the evening. Caretaker put the plates away himself, ignoring the way the kid tensed when he moved closer to them, then returned to the couch, settling at the far corner. When he noticed Whumpee glance towards him, he patted the cushion at his side and put an arm over the sofa's back, but didn't insist when the kid quickly looked away.

They watched the TV in silence. It took the teen half an hour to move slightly closer, and even longer before they were sitting truly by his side. Caretaker kept his eyes on the screen as he dropped his arm over their shoulders in a semblance of a hug. They tensed immediately, breath hitching like an animal caught in a trap, and the man wondered if it was a mistake. If he'd overstepped and the kid needed something else from him. He debated pulling away and apologizing, but Whumpee beat him to it. He let them go the moment they moved away.

They returned a few minutes later, and only moved closer when he hugged them this time. They were choosing to come and were allowed to be as close or as distant as they needed, Caretaker tried to convey, keeping their arms loose. They were welcomed anyway, he tried to say through the gentle long strokes down their back as Whumpee pressed close to him.

They fought very hard to keep their sobs silent despite the shaking shoulders. Caretaker didn't comment on the growing wet patch on his chest, only kept them close and safe in his arms as the precious, bothersome and loved despite that kid they were.

When three days later he came from work to the sight of a cheerful cup at the table, he didn't recognize it for what it was the first few minutes. It was too familiar, had been a constant of his life for years, and as much as he'd missed it before it wasn't until he reached out to pour hot coffee in it that his brain caught up with it being back.

He stared at the snake's googly eyes and the uneven glue lines keeping the glass together.

It was hideous, truly. The scribbles had never been the pinnacle of artistry to begin with, and it was obvious the teen had never had to glue anything together in their whole life, and they definitely didn't think about polishing it or even just flattening the glue chunks. And it certainly wasn't usable anymore. Caretaker would not risk neither poisoning nor it falling apart in his hands from the boiling water.

It was absolutely perfect.

A work of his two kids, coming together despite the time and never having met.

He grinned as he put it as a centerpiece on a shelf where everyone could see it.

Maybe he was doing something right, after all.

[zafirosreverie]

Call the exorcist (Agatha x F!Reader)

For @roseclear

a/n: I haven't watch the show, I just know the basics, so sorry for any plot mistakes.

Spoilers for the ending

______________

Your life was chaotic. From the moment you met that damn charming, chaotic and slightly evil (well, very evil) witch, your whole world did a 180.

From one day to the next, magic was not only something possible, but little by little, it became something common in your life. Something you got so used to that you thought nothing could surprise you anymore.

Rule number one of being married to a witch: Agatha Harkness can always surprise you.

You weren't stupid, you knew she didn't tell you absolutely everything, that there were parts of her past she would never tell you, that they were completely buried and she planned to keep them that way. Not that it bothered you, if you were honest. 300 years of life had to have hard moments, and you decided that you wouldn't push her any further than she felt comfortable sharing you.

Still, that damn woman always managed to give you gray hairs, and you were sure that one of these days she would put you in an early grave. But you still loved her, more than life itself.

______________

The first scare was when she disappeared to go to Westview. You had a hard time getting in touch with her, and she only gave you a hasty and poorly structured explanation about chaos magic before sending you back home.

A week later, Maximoff's escape and what she had done to the town was reported on the news. You came back as quickly as you could, but you couldn't do anything. You were forced to watch your wife live as Agnes for 3 years, powerless and weak to bring her back.

Then the boy showed up. Billy Maximoff, or at least a variant of him? A reincarnation? The truth was that you didn't quite understand, nor did you care. The only important thing was that Agatha was back. And with her, chaos. Of course.

God forbid you have a second of peace with your wife.

The coven, Rio, Billy, everything was too confusing, too much for your mortal mind to understand in all the details how quickly the situation was changing, and Agatha, in the middle of it all, the central pillar, was not much help.

You knew she didn't tell you everything, but that she had gotten involved with death or that she had a child should have been some of the things she could have tell you, right? At least you thought that something like that should be important enough to tell her new wife.

You hadn't even finished assimilating all that when your witch, always chaotic and without explanations, kissed Rio, lady death, to save Billy. You didn't even have time to say goodbye to her, or to assimilate that, just like that, from one moment to the next, you had become a widow.

You didn't think you had known greater pain in your life. Knowing that your wife, the woman you loved, as imperfect, chaotic and evil as she was, was no longer there, broke your heart. You couldn't even stay there for long, you went back home as soon as you could, desperate that everything was a damn nightmare, that when you opened your eyes, Agatha would be there, with that infuriating but beautiful smile that you loved so much, ready for a new chaos.

But no matter how many times you woke up, reality was still there. Agatha was dead, you were alone. And your wife wasn't coming back.

_______________

…until she did.

________________

You calmly stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to wash away the stress of the day, the worries and sorrows. You allowed yourself to close your eyes and focus for a moment on the feeling of the water against your skin, the warmth of the steam and-

"AGATHA!!!" you screamed as you jumped up, and your wife still had the nerve to laugh.

It had been less than a week since Agatha Harkness had come back into your life, ready to turn it upside down again. At first, you thought you had finally lost your mind (sometimes you still thought that it was the case, to be honest), when the ghost of your dead wife appeared in the middle of the living room.

However, in true Agatha fashion, she began to cause all kinds of mischief around the house, moving things around, disarranging things, and giving you those damn kisses that you still couldn't decide if you loved or not. And that was all you needed to know that yes, your wife was back. In the form of a pile of ectoplasm with too much time on her hands and too eager to take you to the grave too, but she was back.

"Come on sweetie, you can't blame me" she laughed, floating closer to you "you know I've never been able to resist your…charms"

You shivered as her fingers, cold and not quite physical, ran down your lower back. Before you could protest, Agatha kissed you deeply. Kisses with her were very strange now, to say the least.

Not that they bothered you, you just still had to get used to the feeling of kissing an ice cube that you couldn't really touch but was at the same time as real as yourself. You never imagined kissing a ghost, but here you were, proving once again how much you loved this woman even in death.

"You're a menace" you said as she pulled away

"But I'm your menace" she smirked

"…we said 'till death do us part', why are you still here?" you crossed your arms, covering your naked body a little

"Oh darling" she laughed and caressed your cheek with those icy fingers "it's cute how you really thought death would rid you of me. No, my love, you're mine, in this and every life after"

Something in her tone and the way her ghostly fingers gripped your chin, told you that she really planned to keep that promise. And you couldn't help but smile.

"That's cute, my love" you said "…but get out of my shower right now"

"Oh come on" she laughed "I've seen you how tou came into the world many times"

"Agatha!" you shivered as you felt her icy fingers on your lower back again

"Yes?" She smiled like the Cheshire Cat

"I love you" you said "but if you don't let me take A FUCKING SHOWER IN PEACE, I'M GOING TO CALL A PRIEST AND EXORCISE THE DAMN HOUSE!!"

And of course, that damn beautiful, charming, chaotic and slightly evil (well, very evil) witch that you loved more than life itself, had the nerve to laugh.

[zepskies]

Lost in Translation

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Female POC!Reader

Summary: Living with this man isn’t easy, and you’ve absolutely had it with him. Supe or not, you’re one step shy of kicking him out. Will he try to make it up to you? 

AN: So after getting requests for a Soldier Boy x POC!Reader, I’ve had a short series in development called Unravel Me. I’m a bit stalled on the outline right now, so I thought this could be a fun way to introduce their relationship and see if you guys think I should continue with the prequel, kind of like how I did with Checkerboard and the Break Me Down-verse.

This story would take place after Unravel Me, after a fair bit of character development lol. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Prompt: “Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!”

Song Inspo: “Damage” by H.E.R.

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, bit of dirty talk, fingering, edging, some angst, fluff and feels. The reader is a mixed race POC (Afro Latina), with textured hair. 

The apartment was quiet, but not peaceful.

You were in the kitchen washing the Mt. Everest of dishes piled in the sink, partly because someone hadn’t rinsed off his own plate of carne guisada.

Ben had asked for beef for dinner yesterday, and you’d graciously delivered with your grandmother’s recipe for the stew. It was filled with chunks of tender, fall-off-your-fork beef, garlic, onions, carrots, and more—all marinated to perfection, if you said so yourself. You even added in some little yellow potatoes, both for taste and texture.

Apparently, he couldn’t be bothered to put those meaty man muscles to good use, aside from shoveling three helpings into his mouth.

A bottomless pit and a freakin’ man-child, I swear to God, you inwardly groused as you scrubbed the ceramic a bit too hard with the rough side of the sponge. No matter how many times you asked, nicely, it seemed your boyfriend couldn’t manage to pull his weight around here.

Okay, you knew his job could be demanding, but so was yours.

What the hell is this, Maid in Manhattan? Newsflash: I’ve got shit to do too! 

“And I cooked!” you muttered in indignation. That reminder propelled you to scrub a bit harder. The least he could do was clean the kitchen. Or take out the trash. Or toss the laundry into the washing machine once in a while. Like you really wanted to handle his dirty boxers all the damn time.

Did he have no shame? Couldn’t he do anything for you without you having to ask him three million times?

Es que él es bruto, mija, as your Dominican grandma would say about your grandpa, often while swiping a tired hand over her long braids. Es como un animal con ropa.

Just then, you heard his heavy steps creaking on the wood floors in your bedroom. Today was his day off, so he was probably taking his sweet time rolling his ass out of bed.

Meanwhile, you were hustling to get the place at least decently clean before you got yourself together for work. The thought made you simmer as you continued to place dishes on the counter rack. Each one clacking to rest was satisfying, but it also ticked up your internal dial to a fine boil. 

You heard him bang the bathroom door open and cringed internally, your teeth grinding. You’d reminded him three times already about the neighbors and the noise.

Sabes que, supe or not, I’m about to— 

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Ben’s voice washed over you, deep and still a little rough with sleep as he stepped into the kitchen. His old man loafers slid against the floor with every step when he approached you from behind, and his heavy hands found a familiar resting place on the curve of your waist.

He swiped your slightly wild curls to the side and pressed a tantalizing kiss into your neck. His voice, his touch, the brief scrape of his beard; it all caused a small shiver of delight up your spine.

“Hmm, you smell good. Good enough to eat.” And he teased you with the graze of his teeth, biting gently enough where your neck met your shoulder. You flinched with half a huff, trying not to smile. 

Just like that, it took the edge off your irritation…a little. You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could…

“Hey,” he said, “since you’re already up and about in here, how about some breakf—”

Your spine tightened once again.

“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!” you snapped. You moved out of his arms to grab a hand towel to dry your hands with. They were all pruny from washing dishes.

“I’m already running late. Why? Because this place is a fucking mess, and the only one who seems to care is me!” you exclaimed. First, you gestured to the dishes now drying on the rack. “Hmm?”

You then opened up the lid to the full-to-bursting trashcan. “What do you call that, huh? You said you’d take this out last night. After I asked you twice. What, was I not speaking English? Did something get lost in translation, or are you already losing your hearing? Just let me know, ‘cause I can sure as hell crank up the volume for you!”

Ben raised a brow. You read his thoughts in his surly frown. You have some fucking audacity, talking to him like that, but it’s still early. He hasn’t even had his coffee, for Christ’s sake.

If he was more awake, no doubt he’d be barking back at you. Instead, he heaved a sigh, drew closer to you and shut the trashcan lid. At least there was one lid he knew how to close.

“All right, it’s just a little mess. No need to get fucking hysterical,” he said, trying to grasp your arm to placate you. You shrugged out of his hold and crossed your arms in anger.

“Ben, it’s not just a little mess. And what is this, 1945? I’m not hysterical!”

His lips twitched at a smirk, making you even angrier. But he’d caught enough smoke from you in the past to know he didn’t want it at 8:00 in the morning. He grasped your arms and rubbed them up and down, trying to sooth you.

“Okay, okay. It’s a little early for all this Latina temper, don’tcha think?” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your gaze snapped up at him with a glare.

Oooh, this man. He knew how to get you mad fucking tight.

Not in a good way.

Instead of exploding like Mount Fuji, you kept it all under your skin. You turned away from him and aimed to continue getting ready for work, but first, you took out a Greek yogurt from the fridge and wholly ignored him taking up space in the kitchen. You wouldn’t answer him when he called your name. In fact, you were going to give him the most frigid of cold shoulders—so cold he’d get hyperthermia through that invulnerable skin.

He waylaid your plans when he grabbed your hand, swinging you back into his arms. You gasped at the suddenness of it, looking up into his cocky, charming smile. You couldn’t stare too long at his green eyes, or the rest of his handsome, bearded face. Not when he knew exactly how to use it against you.

“Don’t think that’s gonna get you out of this,” you warned him. You set your yogurt on the kitchen counter and pushed at his chest, but it was no more effective than pushing at a mountain and expecting it to move.

His hands spanned your waist, his fingers beginning to press into your soft sides. He bowed his head, brushing his lips against your neck and the shell of your ear when he said, “Out of what, baby doll? Looks to me like we can still have a good morning.”

His voice once against trilled heat and tingles through your body, but you managed to lean back, holding the pads of your fingers to his lips.

“Hey, I’m not playing around here. If we’re gonna do this,” you pointed between him and yourself, “then let me make one thing really clear. I’m not la sirvienta around here, okay? I’m not your fucking maid. I’m your girl. Your partner. And since you live here now, I’m gonna need you to do your part.”

Ben almost rolled his eyes, but you grasped his chin. He frowned at you with furrowed brows. There was a time where he would've been inclined to grab your wrist and try to intimidate you with his temper. You saw it lying in wait behind his pursed lips and irritated stare, but you weren't afraid of him. Not anymore.

“Listen to me. I get that you haven’t lived like us commoners for most of your life, but this stuff is important,” you said. You took a deep breath, and you counted to three. You met him with a calmer gaze. “Ben, I love you.”

You let go of his chin and lowered your hand, letting it splay over his chest. He softened, ever so slightly, even though his frown remained.

“I love you,” you repeated, “but I don’t need a man-child.”

"Excuse me?" he did snap this time, his hold loosening from around your waist. "The fuck did you just say?"

You narrowed your eyes right back at him.

"You heard me," you said. "I want a man. A man who's going to be my rock when I need him. Can you do that for me, like I do for you? Are you gonna be my man, or do I need to claim you as a dependent on my taxes?"

His expression sharpened again at your thinly veiled accusation…but the longer he looked into your eyes, no longer angry, but earnest and imploring, the more he actually listened to what you were saying. His jaw worked for a moment in annoyance. You subtly softened him with your hands soothing up and down his arms, a slow back and forth over solid, warm muscle.

Eventually, he was able to curb his instinct to bark a callous reply. He nodded, expelling a breath through his nose.

“Fine,” he said.

Your brows rose. “Fine?”

“Yeah,” he said flatly.

You knew it was the closest you were going to get to an agreement, as well as an apology. You were still working on that last one, but dating this man was a work in progress, for both of you. With a sigh, you patted his arms that were slowly wrapping back around you.

“Okay, I’m really running late now,” you said.

“You should probably get a move on then,” Ben said.

Still, he didn’t release you. He stared down at you with an amused smile while you struggled against his hold. You uttered a laugh.

“Babe, I need to get to work.” You leaned over and spied the oven clock. “Oh, shit! it’s almost 8:30! If I’m not there by 9:00—”

“You sure you want to go now? Tense, body all tight,” he said, his voice deep with sensuous suggestion.

His lips neared yours, but he didn’t kiss you. Not yet. His lips veered away to brush against your cheek. He inhaled deeply as he moved, taking in the floral scent of your soap, mixed with the army of products you styled your hair with, and the faint imprint of your perfume from the night before. He skimmed down your neck and along the shell of your ear.

“Wouldn’t you rather I fuck all that tension right out of you?” he offered. “Leave you nice and warm and satisfied, have that pretty pussy coming hard on my cock.”

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as his filthy mouth and the timbre of his voice struck a chord through your body, tinging warm arousal between your legs. Your fingers tightened on his strong arms, digging into the fabric of his loose robe. Ben took that as a wordless confirmation. He bent at the knees and grabbed you up by your plush thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck on instinct, with a small gasp.

But you recovered quickly. Taking his face into your hands, you met his lips roughly with yours in a devouring kiss. He set you down on the kitchen counter hard enough to make the clean dishes rattle. His hands were just as claiming as his mouth, squeezing your hips and thighs as he spread them open to make more room for himself.

While your tongue dueled with his, you shoved the robe off his shoulders, followed by his sleep shirt pooling to the floor. His hand slid under your top as well, and almost ripped it at the hem in his haste to get it up and over your head.

“Ow, ah-ow!” You giggled when the collar got caught on your hair. Ben’s breathy chuckle reached your ears. He was gentler in how he helped get the shirt off the rest of the way. Your mane of hair fell into your face, and you huffed.

Ben did you the favor of brushing the thick curls away from your eyes, tugging several strands behind your ears, even though most of them didn’t obey him. He framed your face with his big hands, and his thumbs swept along your skin, the rich complexion shining in the morning light filtering through the kitchen window.

There was more care in his touch now, his strength tempered just for you. Fond amusement colored his features. For as much shit as you gave him, you still gave him more of yourself; more of your trust, your patience...and all the rest of it. You gave him more than anyone that had come before you, and deep inside, he doubted anyone that might come after you.

You smiled up at him, a little wryly. You leaned up and met him for a gentler kiss. Your eyes fell closed at the feeling of him, and the spicy hint of his aftershave. It was a scent that often clung to his pillows. When he was gone on a mission for days on end, you wouldn’t admit to clinging to one of them to help you sleep, and make you feel safe. 

“Mmm, you smell good,” you whispered. And it was true. He smelled like mint and spicy aftershave. You plied his lips with deeper kisses, licking into his mouth with a sensuous tongue, before you stole his words. “Good enough to eat.”

He uttered a groan deep in his throat. It satisfied you, enhancing the warm flood between your legs.  

Fuck it. You were calling in sick today.

You drew him back into the pull of you, winding your arms around his neck and your fingers in his hair. It was getting long again, but you liked it. You liked something to hold onto, just as much as he did. Your nails brushed against his scalp, down the back of his neck, earning a hum of pleasure from him. You wound your legs tightly around his hips and invited the press of his hard cock against your throbbing core, even through your panties and pajama pants. A faltering groan caught in his chest.

“Needier that I thought this morning,” he remarked. His warm hands drifted down to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over dark, pebbled nipples. You sighed into his mouth in response.

You heard the cocky grin in his voice, but for once, you didn’t care. You did need him. You wanted him to fuck the stress and chaos out of you.

…Well, he’d caused most of it, but still. He was gonna damn well fix it.

And he aimed to do just that, with his hands sliding farther down your body with purpose, grabbing the waistband of your pajama pants and roughly sliding them down, along with your panties. Your bare ass felt cold against the tile counter, but you didn’t have too much time to think about it with Ben’s thick fingers probing between the wet, glistening folds of your pussy. He soon found what he was searching for, circling firmly over your clit.

Your hips raised off the counter as you whimpered against his lips and ground yourself against his hand. You broke from his kiss to bury your face in his neck. Ben’s free hand grasped your hip and pulled you right to the edge of the counter.

There he held you down, his brows furrowing in concentration. His fingers sought your entrance and slipped inside you with ease. By now, he knew what angles would have you squirming, writhing, your body arching into him, while your inner walls clenched around his hand.

“Fuck. That’s right, baby doll. I’ve gotcha,” he said roughly, continuing to fuck your pussy with his fingers. His thumb rubbed against your clit between strokes.

The coil in your lower belly began to tighten, the delicious throbbing deep inside beginning to make your thighs shake. But just as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, Ben withdrew his fingers from your sopping channel.

You struggled to catch your breath in shock. Your head raised from Ben’s shoulder to glare at him. When your mouth opened to deliver an indignant protest, he silenced you with his mouth claiming yours. Your nails bit into his shoulder in retaliation, even though you knew it wouldn’t hurt him in the slightest. In fact, it only curved his lips into a smirk against yours.

You slapped him on the shoulder, immensely frustrated, but also laughing. “You’re such an assh—”

Before you could even finish cursing him, he gathered you up again and lifted you off the counter. He walked you over to the couch in the living room. He would’ve loved nothing better than to lay you out across the two-seater table in the kitchen, but he thought the shitty old wood might just give out under the strain of him fucking you. So the living room was a close second, and in this tiny-ass apartment, it was barely a few feet more to walk.

He laid you out underneath him on couch, and it groaned and squeaked under both of your weight. You squeaked too, if for a different reason. It had Ben smirking down at you. He freed himself from the confines of his pajama pants and coated his rock-hard arousal with the leftover wetness coating his hand.

“I approve of the scene change,” you said breathlessly, once again stroking his arms. Your fingers slipped over every dip and plain of muscle.  

“Didn’t think you wanted to be fucked on some cold tile,” he said, even if the sentiment behind his words warmed you. You were pretty sure he didn’t used to care about that. At least, before he met you.

He grabbed your hips, lined himself up to your entrance, and his cock breached you smoothly, pushing into you until his hips fit snugly against yours.

“Oh, fuck,” you choked out, your thighs squeezing around his frame.

“Feel good, sweetheart? All fuckin' filled up,” Ben teased, a bit breathless himself. You were a tight fucking fit. He slid out of you experimentally, drawing a moan from your lips. You nodded.

“Yeah, baby. So good,” you freely admitted, panting all the while.

Ben’s hot gaze drew over you as he continued moving hard and fast inside you. He took in your every bare curve, the way hot breaths and sexy moans fell from your lips with every thrust, the way your hair fanned out underneath you and hung off the side of the sofa cushion, the way your hands still explored him and touched him, demanding, but still loving.

For that, it was all the more tantalizing against his skin, warming even the darkest places he tried not to show you.

And every drag of his cock inside you stretched your inner walls in the most delicious of ways. It wasn’t just that he was able to fill you to the fucking brim. He also just knew his way around a woman’s body. He knew you, and he knew exactly how to make you come undone. Even quick and dirty on your couch, he made you feel brand new. 

He was right, damn him.

The coil deep inside you snapped. Pleasure crested through you and made your inner walls squeeze him tight, fluttering and pulsing with warmth. You came hard on his cock, hard enough to milk his release shortly after for all he was worth.

His forearms fell to the cushion on either side of your head. You were basically being smothered, but for the moment you didn’t mind. You just held his sweat-slick body against yours while you both caught your breath, each of your heartbeats falling back into a steady rhythm.

He was always so damn warm. It was nice, considering how cold it was this winter, but the thought always made you a bit sad. It reminded you of the power housed in his chest, and every memory he caged there as well.

You laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder. In return, his lips found the side of your head and hesitated there.

“You’re not going to work,” he said. It was more an observation than anything else.

You laughed breathlessly and shook your head. “Nope.”

He nodded. “Let’s go out for breakfast.”

You could get behind that. Your kitchen was finally clean, which meant your kitchen was closed until further notice.

“Shower first,” you stipulated.

You felt Ben’s smile grow against your dewy skin. “All right.”

You sighed, and he guided you to your feet along with him. You had a feeling “breakfast” was going to be lunch by the time you and Ben finally escaped this apartment.      

AN: Lol hope you had fun with this one! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these two! 💚💚

Spanish Translations:

Es que él es bruto, mija. Es como un animal con ropa.

It’s that he’s stupid, my daughter. He's like an animal with clothes.

However, “bruto” can also mean brutish, crude, and/or like a beast, so it fits in more than one way. 😂

Sabes que, …

You know what, …

La sirvienta

The servant (or maid) (female)

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