#and like started trying to get better instead of just word vomit

[venomwrites]

Warnings: Spoilers

Her mail is full of threats. 

It’s sorted for safety, but then it winds up on her table. Pain filled accusation. She should have died instead, how the blade should have gone to her neck not her eye. Jinx should have killed her. How could she do what she did. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. She reads about people’s loved ones who sacrificed themselves. Sometimes people give their names. Most of the time they don’t. 

Caitlyn reads them all. 

She learns about people’s families. Friends. Their darkest desires. How they would kill her. She drinks the poison with her remaining eye. When it starts to throb she uses the drops the doctor gave her and keeps reading. She got these people killed. She can at least know them. When they name themselves she adds them to the list. She makes sure they get their dispensations from the funds and repairs are seen to. Piltover will take care of all its citizens. She will make sure of that. 

After an hour the threats start to bled together but she pushes past it as best she can. She cannot let these people’s pain blend together like that. They deserve so much more, but she can give them that at least. She is about to take a break when the violent blue ink peaks out at her. 

Everything goes still as she extracts the card. 

She doesn’t recognize the place on the front. Somewhere with mountains capped in snow. The card is bordered in yellow. On the front someone has harshly crossed out bright letters. They peak through the ink. WISH YOU WERE HERE. Caitlyn turns the card back to the side with the blue lettering. 

SHE BETTER BE EATING. 

Caitlyn nearly drops the card. There’s no return address. Hers is ‘the big kiramman house’ with nothing underneath it. There isn’t even a stamp. The handwriting is more precise than anything she’s seen from the bloody nailed girl. It’s like a child practicing their letters. Maybe that’s exactly what it is. 

Caitlyn lets out a breath. It’s plausible, they never found a body. Something occurs to Caitlyn and she begins to sort through the letters. Silently she apologizes to every one she pushes aside. She will come back to them. But her mail is delayed. There’s too much of it to sort through daily. So maybe—

Another flash of blue. 

A cityscape this time with strange, alien buildings. 

Wish you were (NOT) here.

TRY HUMMING TO HER IF SHE CAN’T SLEEP

Pink, this time pink. A river with grey animals hopping merrily by. The sun is setting. No wishes decorate the front. 

SHE HATES THE DARK

Blue ink with a blue card. An endless sky dotted with airships. Two figures have been drawn on the front, holding hands in one. 

SWEETS ARE HER FAVORITE

The last is a pink one to go with a wide red desert. Puffy blue clouds dot the sky. Instead of a message there’s a chart. A family tree. Vi’s name is connected to hers with a long line. 

She traces the line with her finger and feels the indent carved into the bottom. The others all have it too. Each card has a secret. She grabs a pencil and drags it lightly along the bottom, adding graphite to the ridges and revealing the words. 

REMIND 

HER

I’M 

ALWAYS 

THERE

Caitlyn’s throat tightens. Jinx doesn’t ask her not to tell. Caitlyn is eternally grateful. They both know she can’t do that but it would feel wrong somehow to go against a request like that. Jinx has sent her the cards. Caitlyn can imagine her thinking this was the right decision. A clean break. She thought she was doing the right thing. 

Vi is curled up in her bed. Caitlyn wishes she could have made it her bed under any other circumstances. She’s seen Vi sleep for weeks, bleed out, cry until she vomits—all in this bed. Every time Caitlyn sees her in it she wants to scream. Wants to drag her out of this room and to her bed. Where things were better, where things made sense. But Vi just curls tighter and ignores her when she tries to speak. 

It’s anything but a clean break. 

“Vi,” she says, announcing herself to the lump in the bed. Vi’s shoulders stiffen which is as much of a reaction as Caitlyn gets from her these days, “these came for me,” she continues, “I think you should read them.”

Vi turns away in refusal towards the darkness of the room. She’s got the curtains on one side of the bed closed. It lets in light and gives people access, but it also sends the clear message she doesn’t want to be bothered. All one would have to do is open the curtains on the other side. No-one dares. Caitlyn perches on the side of the bed. 

Caitlyn is not a music person. 

She has no idea what to hum. 

But she does. 

Grey eyes miserably turn towards her as Caitlyn tries to remember anything resembling a tune. Her parents tried to make her take music lessons but she was never good at them. Still she forces herself to keep going as skepticism seems to cut through even Vi’s stupor. Vi’s lips are pulled into a frown as she stares at her, slowly easing from her side to her back. The most life Caitlyn has seen in her. 

“That was awful, Cupcake,” Vi mumbles, “if I read those will you never do that again?”

Caitlyn could care less as she nods and hands the cards to Vi. She pulls the first one from her bad hand, turns it over and bolts upright so fast it’s a miracle their heads don’t smack together. Vi shoves herself fully into the light. 

“Where—“

“They arrived in the past week,” Caitlyn says, “I brought them as soon as I saw.” 

Vi shuffles through them five times, turning each card over like she is missing something. Caitlyn is not expecting it when she throws off the sheet and gets to her feet. She kneels down and spreads the cards out, looking at them again like she must be missing something. Caitlyn eases herself down next to her. 

“She’s alive,” Vi says numbly, “she’s alive and she’s—“ she shakes her head, “she said she was breaking the cycle. Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Caitlyn says. 

“Can you find out?!” Vi demands. After having her be so still and quiet, the angry shout catches Caitlyn off guards, “this could be a copycat.”

“Yes,” Caitlyn says slowly, “but I don’t think it is,” she motions to the hidden message, “she knew I would find that.” 

Vi shudders as she stares at the cards. Caitlyn has never felt this useless in her entire life. She’s used to making things happen. But here she’s failing on all accounts. Only Jinx has been able to pull Vi out of her stupor. Caitlyn has tried and failed so many times. She looks at the graphite boxes. Her fingers pick up the one with the airship and her features twist. 

“She said she was going to break the cycle,” Vi says, “how is this breaking the cycle?!” She smacks her good hand on the floor, “Cait where is she?!” 

Her voice breaks desperately around the last word. Great, heaving sobs wrack her frame. Caitlyn just manages to get her so she doesn’t land on her shoulder when she crumples forward. She takes the post card out of her grip and laces their fingers together as Vi wails at the loss. It’s a cruel thing that Vi’s ghosts never stay dead. She never looses someone once. Caitlyn thought she knew grief when she buried her mother. But the wound has started to heal. Every time Vi gets a bit of healing, the wound is wrenched back open. 

Caitlyn wants to promise they will find her, but she doesn’t know if that’s possible. They could date the cards, find the locations, but she knows Jinx will not be there. She will slip away again and the wound in Vi’s chest will rip open all over again. Vi is strong, so strong. But Caitlyn doesn’t know how many times she can bear this loss. Vi’s existed for weeks on nothing more than broth and nutrients. Her muscles are weak. She should not have this kind of strength. But she keeps sobbing. She sounds more like an animal than a person as she wails into Caitlyn’s embrace. 

Caitlyn just folds herself around her, pushing the cards to the side so they won’t get damaged. 

She expects Vi to go listless again. She knows she must be exhausted. But Vi pulls herself up painfully and wipes uselessly at her face. Most of her weight leans on Caitlyn. Caitlyn doesn’t care, she would bear all of Vi’s weight if she let her. She reaches out and touches the underside of Vi’s eye. The tears she wipes are immediately replaced but for a moment Vi leans into her palm. 

“She loves you,” Caitlyn says, “this is her wanting you to make a life of your own.”

“I can’t do that without her,” Vi says, her voice wretched, “Cait she’s my sister.”

“I know,” Caitlyn says, “I know this isn’t fair to you,” the words are messy and she cannot find the right ones, “maybe one day she’ll see that,” she tries, “but she wants you to let her go.”

Vi looks like she is going to sob again, but there are no more tears left. Caitlyn sees the white knuckled fist she’s making in her lap. A stubborn refusal to follow Jinx’s request. Caitlyn goes on instinct and covers Vi’s hand. Vi makes a noise but doesn’t try to stop her as she pulls her fingers open and slots their hands together. 

“Hold onto me,” she says. 

Vi gives her the same gutted look. Caitlyn knows this isn’t fair. She’s put them in this position how many times. Me or Jinx. Choose. Despite her words in the cell she knows Jinx is woven into Vi’s heart. Maybe in some world there is no choice forced upon Vi. Maybe in some world this all works out differently. But here and now Jinx has taken the choice. She’s made it for them. 

Vi lets out a harsh sound between a sob and a moan. But her fingers tighten on Caitlyn’s hand. 

Caitlyn kisses the back of her knuckles and guides Vi’s arm over her shoulder. It’s a familiar position. No matter the wounds. Something goes automatic in Vi and she gets her feet under her as Caitlyn stands up. Vi looks down at the cards. It hasn’t been that long, the cards all arrived differently. If they are to be believed, Jinx has seen so many places already. Places she doubts anyone in the Undercity has gone. 

“She wanted to see the world,” Vi says. 

“She is,” Caitlyn assures her. 

“I—“ Vi tightens her grip, “maybe you should just get the postcards for now,” Caitlyn looks at her, “will you tell me when you do?” 

“Of course,” Caitlyn says, “the moment they arrive.”

Vi looks at her silently and then gives a jerky nod. 

“Could you help me to the shower?” She asks finally. 

Caitlyn smiles and nods. 

The cards continue sporadically. Sometimes months will go by without them. Sometimes several arrive in a week. Caitlyn tells the Enforcers sorting her mail they are not a threat and should be given to her immediately. It’s difficult because sometimes copycats send blue letters, but Caitlyn learns the difference fairly quickly. Vi puts each one into a box before she cries over them. She treasures them, the only proof her sister is alive somewhere. 

Until the box arrives.

For the first time it’s not addressed to Caitlyn. 

“This is a bad idea,” the Enforcer says, “there’s gears in there—“

“Thank you,” Caitlyn tells him, “it’s alright.”

Vi goes stiff when she sees the unopened box. Her eyes widen when she realizes its addressed to her. She rips out a knife and cuts through the packaging before Caitlyn can mention what the scans have shown. There’s a dull click and fine glitter explodes from the box. Caitlyn is very glad she’s wearing her eyepatch as it coats everything in pink and blue. Vi looks back into the box, reaches in and pulls out an envelope. Inside there’s a blue gem and a card. Vi fingers the gem and offers Caitlyn the card. A smile is already pulling at her lips. 

She turns the card over to see familiar mountains. This time the sentiment on front hasn’t been crossed out. It’s been underlined several times. Caitlyn looks at the back. On it is a bunch of numbers. After a moment she realizes its coordinates and a date range.  

It’s an invitation. 

[sentientroadkill]

Lately, all I want to do is write, I don't know what else to do with myself. I make a document and stare at it. I write one sentence. I write another. My head blurs. I stare. And that's all I got. I want to write. That's the only thought I have, just a long empty impulse.

I think this is shit. I’ve been foggy and blurry and hesitant and confused and unclear. I think this is shit and so is everything else I've been writing. I guess that was the point of this to begin with, I need to get better at writing. I started this days ago. I can get a concept but the execution kills itself. I don’t know what the fuck i want to say or what im trying to say. I’m just bleeding, I’m just drooling.

I’m sitting in this backyard, smoking a cigarette on a lawn chair that belongs to someone else. There are absolutely no stars out here. Before me is a red fence, crisscrossed low power lines, and the tops of a red house and a blue house. I feel sad. I feel like I miss something. But I realize there is nothing I’m missing.

And I’m thinking, and I want to write it, but it’s all conceptual. I have no tangible thoughts. It doesn’t make sense enough to write.

But I want to write.

I used to write “poetry” (quotations because it never followed a rhyme scheme, it never had any rules at all, it was just the structure of line, line, line, and it excuses the nonsensicality of it). I started that freshman year. Just for me, just to get things down, release things. I never planned on showing anyone. I showed my sister, Hayden, and a couple other people. I just wanted to show myself, what I saw, what I thought, what I felt. Writing those was an impulse. I would pause, sit down to type while I was walking, get it down. I needed to.

When I'm making art with someone, and they say theirs is bad, I say that cheesy thing—art is only for you, it's about expression. I encourage abstract art because it doesn't need to be a replica of a sight. It can be, sure, but, when people get insecure—Hayden would get insecure—I would say it's just about expressing. I do believe that.

But with writing, I get the frustration. I was always relatively comfortable with art. And I understand artists. It's about communicating a feeling. Sometimes, yes, it's a replica. But the artists i know, the artists i know well, like Kalico, it's about expressing a feeling.

It's this thing, these things that you paint or draw, characters, they're symbols. They represent a concept. Kalico has foxes, wolves, fish, and this big creature with a dog face and a long neck and droopy ears and antlers and stars. They show up differently and in different pieces. It is the representation of a concept. I have characters and certain things I do in art.

But writing is completely different. It’s words, language, there are rules. It's different.

I need to get better at writing so that i can tell you, anyone, everyone, what i mean, how i mean. I want to communicate.

I bottle things and don't know how to let them out. I write. But I don't know what I'm getting at. I have the feelings and I have the concepts, but I don't know what the words are, or how to string them together, what order to put them in, what are the phrases, the metaphors? What the fuck am i trying to say? I have a much too limited vocabulary about things. I need more words, phrases, better metaphors, the right structure, tone, flow.

A collective of thoughts and feelings and ideas and moments spread around a document. I usually do it in one go and then go back and edit. But my thoughts have been like a school of fish, and I just can't get a hold of one.

And when I get it I make monstrous spelling errors because my hands can't keep up with my head and dear god I need to get this out. And then I lose my grip.

Things slip through my fingers. They pass. Sights change. I lose my train of thought. Things pass. I take out my phone or my computer and I jot things down.

This document started as a concept and “Love—limited vocabulary Boots on your mantle and a framed Fuck The Beatles sticky note”. I started, I tried, I got part way through the thought, and it was left unfinished, just that. I lost it.

Things move so swiftly it's impossible to get it all down. But I attempt. It is an impulse.

I hang onto moments and live in them, but, inevitably, they pass. That makes me so sad sometimes. There is no solution. When I write, it is an attempt to immortalize. It's begging, it's pleading.

Every time I write, not just journal, when I try to write a piece, something I'm gonna share, it always feels like I'm begging, I'm pleading. I squirm and choke and writhe and pray and beg. I can’t just keep saying that. I need to get better at writing.

I want to get better at writing because I need to write.

“Why did I write it down? In order to remember, of course, but exactly what was it I wanted to remember? How much of it actually happened? Did any of it? Why do I keep a notebook at all? It is easy to deceive oneself on all those scores. The impulse to write things down is a peculiarly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it, useful only accidentally, only secondarily, in the way that any compulsion tries to justify itself. I suppose that it begins or does not begin in the cradle. Although I have felt compelled to write things down since I was five years old, I doubt that my daughter ever will, for she is a singularly blessed and accepting child, delighted with life exactly as life presents itself to her, unafraid to go to sleep and unafraid to wake up. Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss.” Jane Didion

[frudoo]

How would slasher! 141 react to a reader who isn’t a fan of violence but goes absolutely HAM when one of the victims escapes and injured her boyfriends? (I know the guys are good at what they do but let’s just pretend lol)

maybe she’s dirty from doing chores outside and the victim assumes that she’s an escapee as well, says something about ‘stabbing that fucker with his own knife’ and she just sees red because this piece of shit hurt her boys and she CANNOT let that stand.

Without even thinking, she starts absolutely wailing on this person, punching, kicking, etc. She's got blood on her clothes and shes breathing heavily when the boys finally make their way outside.

how would they react? 😳

This AU has me tweakin I swear

Warnings: Dark!Fic/DDDNE. Explicit gore. Emetophobia.

You gently pick up the little rabbit and giggle, pressing a kiss to its fur before sending it off somewhere else that isn’t your vegetable garden. The pesky things have been terrorizing your poor crops, and while it’s a nuisance, you just can’t stay mad at the little fellas, let alone ask your boys to get rid of the problem. There’s a rustling in the bush next to you and you suspect it’s another bunny looking for a tasty meal, but before you can go investigate, a loud scream coming from the barn startles you.

     Typically, you’re able to drown out the sounds of your husbands’ victims—it freaks you out to hear a person in so much pain, no matter how badly they deserve it. But this is not a victim’s scream. You know that scream. It’s the same one you hear any time he stubs his toe or gets a cramp in bed. That’s Simon’s scream. Immediately you’re on alert, standing from your knees and starting towards the barn.

     Instead of seeing your husband rush out, seeking medical aid or some kind of comfort, a random man covered in dirt and blood comes stumbling outside, looking terrified. You recognize him as the guy Simon, the big, unbreakable brick wall of a man, had even said wasn’t an easy one to catch. When the man sees you also covered in muck, he laughs like he’s just won the lottery, relieved. He rushes up to you, grabbing your hand and trying to pull you towards the fields, no doubt to look for some kind of escape. 

     “C’mon, we- we gotta get outta here. Now! We have time- fuck, lady, come on! I stabbed that fucker with his own knife, so we have time,” he rambles, digging his filthy nails into your skin to get a better grip.

     His words seem to make your heart stop beating in your chest. So that’s why Simon was screaming in pain. Your Simon, your sweet baby, one of your protectors, hurt by an inferior piece of meat. A special brand of scum. You’re scratching at his face before you even realize it. 

     “Wha- bitch! Stop! I’m trying to save you, lady!” Any other time, you’re sure a man like him could have easily overpowered you, but you feel fucking invincible right now, kicking the backs of his knees until he falls.

     You pounce on his back and trap him on the ground, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling his head back just to smash it into the dirt. He’s screaming in agony and you’re sure his nose is broken, but you can’t stop. He hurt one of your boys, and if you know anything about the pieces of shit your husbands get rid of, you’re positive nobody is going to miss the one struggling beneath your weight. You bash his head into the ground over and over—his nose is completely crushed and his teeth are busted, but you just keep going and going and going until your arms are finally tired and you’re heaving with effort.

     When you climb off of him, you see just how much blood has tainted the grass, and you feel nauseous. The man is no longer screaming, not even grunting or moaning, and you know you’ve killed him. You roll him over just to make sure, and the sight of his mangled face makes you lean forward to vomit. You end up tripping over one of his untied shoelaces and falling right on top of his body. Sobbing, you scramble away, screaming when your back hits something solid.

     “Hey, hey, it’s just me, darlin’. Just me,” John coos, helping you up and pulling you into a tight hug.

     “I-I di- I didn’t mean to,” you weep, blood and bile still sour on your tongue. “H-he… he stabbed Simon, and- and I-”

     “Okay, sweetheart, it’s fine. I’ve got you now, yeah? Deep breaths, baby, breathe with me,” John instructs, cupping your sticky cheeks in his palms and forcing you to look at him.

     Distantly, you see Johnny rushing towards the barn and Kyle dragging the man’s body out of sight, but John makes you focus on him. Only once you’re calm, sniffling instead of hyperventilating, does he explain what’s going on. 

     “Kyle’s cleanin’, and Johnny’s gettin’ Simon all patched up. He’s gonna be okay, baby. You were so brave for us, sweet girl. Do you hear me? I'm so proud of you. We all are.” 

     You nod, but you need to see Simon, make sure that he’s really okay. Make sure your efforts weren’t in vain, that the blood on your hands wasn’t shed pointlessly.

     “I wanna see him,” you hiccup, and John nods, turning you around so you can watch as Johnny helps him walk out of the barn.

     You let out a sob of relief, rushing towards the pair and wrapping your arms around Simon, who grunts in pain. You gasp and move to pull away, but Simon just holds you tighter, letting you take as much comfort as you need from him.

     “I love you,” you murmur, and he smiles.

     “I love you more, perfect girl.”

[lyak12]

Just friends

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Summary: Lucy has been your girlfriend for three years already, but lately, she's spending more time with Ona than with you. Is she falling out of love with you?

Word count: almost 4.2k

A/N: I'm back with another Lucy fic:) Thanks to @helen-with-an-a for the inspiration:) I still have a few requests that I want to finish soon, but I'm currently swamped with uni stuff... so be patient with me. Also, there is a happy end cause my heart can't take pure Angst hahaha. I hope you enjoyy

Warnings: Anxiety, struggling with self-worth, concussion, vomiting, angsty in general, if I missed something lmk:)

Living in sunny Barcelona, playing for one of the best clubs in the world and all of that with the love of your life. A pretty perfect life one would say. Well, currently, you are feeling none of that.

You are insecure. You always have been, but normally, Lucy is quick to pull you out of that mindset. You’ve struggled with self-worth your whole life. Always thinking everyone is better than you. It has gotten better since you started dating Lucy over three years ago, but one of your biggest insecurities is still that she’ll get sick of you and leave you for someone better.

You know Ona is just a friend. She’s Spanish and they’re really close, so of course there will be lots of physical contact. You don’t mind that. You’re not jealous. You’re just scared Lucy will fall out of love with you and in love with Ona.

All the edits on Tiktok and insta were not helping. It got so bad that Lucy tried to block the hashtags on your accounts. It worked for a while but not long.

As Lucy spends the third afternoon in a row with Ona, you start to get even more insecure and a bit pissed to be honest. “Again? I thought we wanted to go to the beach today”, You ask a bit annoyed. “Am I not allowed to spend time with my friends anymore?”, Lucy asks defensive, not liking your tone. You just sigh and say, “Never mind, have fun”, you say and go into the bedroom.

Lucy doesn’t bother to come after you. You have been having the same discussion for days already. Lucy completely oblivious to the fact that your anxiety is bad at the moment, instead thinking you’re jealous. You change into some shorts and a crop top before going back into the living room, ready to take Narla to the beach instead. However, Narla is gone, too. Lucy must’ve taken her with her to Ona.

Great, you don’t even have your cuddle buddy now. Sighing again, you dry the tears that have escaped your eyes. You grab a hat and sunglasses and go to the beach on your own. Needing to spend your time somehow and the beach and ocean help clear your head.

You get home late, just needing the time to think. “Where have you been?”, is the first thing you hear when you get in before you come face to face with an angry Lucy and an excited Narla. “The beach”, you just say as you squat down to greet the dog. “Until now? You couldn’t look at your phone? I was worried out of my mind!”, Lucy asks loudly.

“I haven’t looked at my phone since I left the house”, you just say without looking at the brunette. “Y/N I’m talking to you! I was worried”, She says angrily. You flinch slightly at her tone. The tears you worked so hard to fight back threatening to escape. You look up and say “I’m sorry. I needed to think. I didn’t realize how late it was getting “, you say quietly, trying to stay busy with scratching Narla’s little belly.

“Next time, look at your phone”, Lucy just says and turns around before getting back to the couch. You cuddle Narla a bit longer, the Westie noticing the inner turmoil in you.

Eventually, you stand up and head into the living room as well. “How was your time with Ona?”, you ask quietly. “You gonna get jealous again if I say good?”, Lucy grumbles. “Lucy, I’m not jealous!”, you say defensively.

“Oh really? Then why are we having this same fight over and over again?”, she asks, looking at you. “Because you’re spending every free minute with her. It’s like you’re attached at the hip. I’m sorry I want to spend time with you too”, you argue.

“Yeah sure, that’s the reason. I’m sorry I’m spending time with my friends. Damnit, Y/N! It’s obvious you’re jealous, at least own up to it!”, Lucy yells, and that cuts deep. That sentence just lets something snap in you. “You want me to own up to it? Fine! I’m NOT fucking jealous Lucy! I’m scared. I’m scared you’re falling in love with Ona! I’m scared you’ll drop me as soon as she says yes”, you yell with tears streaming down your cheeks, letting yourself be vulnerable in front of Lucy.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous! Ona and I are friends, and that’s it! You should hear yourself. It’s absurd. Stop making a big deal out of nothing”, Lucy dismisses your fear. She has never done that before. She knows how your mind works and what she just said will make you spiral. Apparently, though, she doesn’t care.

You just look at her and dry your tears roughly. Giving her a nod before you head away from her. “Where are you going?”, Lucy asks, confused. She can see you’re still angry. “Why do you care? I thought I’m just being dramatic”, you snarl as she notices that her choice of words maybe were not the smartest.

“Y/N”, Lucy tries half-heartedly. “No. Not once have you treated me like this. You act like I’m not even here! You don’t pay attention unless I’m saying something about Ona. You know how much that hurts?”, you yell tearfully. “Now you’re exaggerating…”, Lucy says with an eye roll. You just look at her in disbelief and give her a nod. You swallow hard and say “I’m going to bed.”

With that, you leave her alone in the living room and head to the bedroom. Normally, you never go to bed angry. That is one rule that’s important to both of you. Well, tonight, the rule will be broken. By the time she comes to bed, you act like you’re asleep already. She still kisses your head, but you just pull away from her slightly.

You hear her sigh softly, but she doesn’t say anything. Eventually, you fall into a restless sleep.

As the alarm goes off the next morning, Lucy turns it off, and you just sigh. “Good morning”, Lucy says gently. “Morning”, you just grumble before you sit up with your back to her. “Seriously? You’re still pissed? Come on, it’s getting ridiculous”, Lucy says with an eye roll. You turn to her and say “Even if I wouldn’t be pissed anymore, I would be again after this comment. But yeah, of course I’m the ridiculous one. Because God forbid your stubborn brain could acknowledge that maybe you’re not as innocent as you tell yourself you are.”

You just get up and get into the bathroom. Lucy doesn’t say anything and just sighs. She really does not understand what your problem is. You get ready separately, but you’re not hungry, so you just grab a protein bar and gel to eat before practice.

The drive to the training grounds is quiet. You don’t say a word. Once in the locker room, you quickly change, but your teammates notice the tension between the two of you.

Mapi comes in just as you’re almost done changing. “Oh trouble in paradise?”, she asks with a slight tease. As an answer, you just grab your boots and drinks before walking out of the locker room.

Mapi just looks concerned at Lucy, the teasing smile wiped from her face. You normally enjoy Mapi’s teasing or at least chuckle slightly. “She’s been like that since we fought last night”, Lucy says with a soft sigh. “Last night?”, Alexia asks. Most of your team knew your rule to never go to bed angry. So as Lucy nods, most of them look concerned at each other. This has to be a bad fight.

Everyone can tell you’re not in the mood during practice. You play a lot more aggressively than usual. But not the type of aggressive that would hurt another.

You’re pushing yourself hard today, just needing to get out the frustration somehow. As you do a quick round of scrimmage halfway through practice, you run into the box to be on the end of a nice cross from Frido. However you’re a bit late, so you jump in at full speed, trying to find the ball and head it in. One of those flying headers Lucy is known for. Ona, however, is there to defend you, and since she’s running backwards, she doesn’t see you throwing yourself in for the ball.

You crash together, and the collision makes you hit the ball with your temple, unable to get it into the goal. You both land on the ground roughly, you a few feet away from Ona because of the speed you had come with.

You both groan for a moment, stars appearing in front of your eyes momentarily, your head throbbing. You close your eyes for a second, but as you hear Lucy’s voice, you open your eyes. However, her question, if you’re okay, is not directed at you. She is squatting next to Ona. That was it. Yes, Ona was lying closer to Lucy, but still.

“You okay?”, Frido asks you softly, and you just mumble “I’m fine.” You get up as Lucy walks up to you, resting a hand on your shoulder, but you immediately shrug it off and say “Don’t touch me. Don’t act like you care now.” The team has never seen you so angry. You just walk away from the brunette and make your way back to your position.

You high five Ona, not angry at her for the tackle. You squeeze the bridge of your nose slightly as you walk back. God, your head is throbbing. Your world is spinning, and you’re not feeling good at all. You try to shake it off, but Alexia can tell, so she rests a hand on your shoulder and asks “You okay, y/n/n?”

You don’t answer her trying to gather yourself. However, you only drop to all fours a few steps later as the dizziness becomes too overwhelming. “Y/N!”, Alexia yells and quickly waves the physios over.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”, the Physio asks, and you can only mumble “Dizzy, head throbbing.” Your ears were ringing slightly as you struggle to keep your composure. They look into your eyes and can see that they are unfocused. “Where did you hit the ball?”, he asks softly, having an idea what might be going on.

Your hand moves to your temple and the spot right next to your ear as you almost lose balance and face plant the grass. The physios steady you, and he says, “Yeah, that might be a concussion, let’s get you off the field and checked out.”

“Let me help”, Lucy says, wanting to help you up. “No, please just leave me alone”, you shrug off her hands with tears in your eyes. Alexia steps in and pulls you to your feet before guiding you to the physio room.

“What happened between you? Talk to me”, Alexia asks on the way, knowing the tears are from the emotional pain, not the physical. “We fought badly. She’s been spending a lot of time with Ona lately and ditches our plans for her. You know I’m not jealous. I know they’re just friends, but I’m scared Lucy is starting to fall in love with her and just waits to drop me. However, she completely dismisses my concern, telling me I’m ridiculous and dramatic. I don’t want her here. It’s like I’m not even there anymore. It's always just Ona”, you tell her tearfully, she wraps you in her arms for a second while you sob.

After a minute, you get it together, and Alexia presses a kiss to your head. “I know me saying this won’t help, but Lucy only has eyes for you, but I understand. I tell her not to come in here, but you gotta promise me you’ll talk to each other, okay?”, She says seriously. You just nod before you lie back on the physio bed.

Alexia leaves, and the physio checks you for a concussion. “So you said you’re head hurts and you’re dizzy, any other symptoms?”, he asks softly, shining a light into your eyes. “Nausea, sensitivity to light. I feel a bit out of it”, you answer, and he just nods. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is a mild concussion. The ball really hit you on an unfortunate spot. You should feel better after a few days, but for now let’s get you home and get some rest. No straining activities, keep yourself hydrated, and get some sleep, alright?”, he asks, and you nod.

He helps you get changed before driving you home. The motion of the car makes the nausea so much worse that you throw up as soon as you're home. You try to rest and sleep, but your head won’t let you. The thoughts just crashing on each other making you restless, so you pull on your sunglasses and a hat, grab your headphones to dampen the sounds and make your way to one of your favorite spots at the beach. It’s not a long walk, so you’re fine. The area is usually not filled with many people, so you just lean against the railing and look out on the sea as you sink into your thoughts.

Meanwhile, Alexia walks back out to see everyone have a small water break. Lucy is standing with Keira and Ona, nibbling on the bottle nervously. “How is she?”, she asks Alexia, concerned. “She’s hurt, not just physically. Lucy, what the hell is going on with you? You know how Y/N is, you can’t tell her she’s dramatic and ridiculous, thinking she won’t spiral”, Alexia says a bit angry. Everyone on the team knows that you need reassurance, especially when those thoughts in your head get too loud. And they all could see that was the case lately. “What?”, Keira and Ona ask at the same time as they look at Lucy disappointed. “She was going on and on about how I keep spending time with you and never with her. I just figured she was jealous, and it isn’t a big deal. And as she told me she’s scared I will fall in love with you just something in me snapped, I couldn’t stop it”, Lucy tries to argue quietly as she looks at Ona, but she knows she’s in the wrong here.

Alexia just smacks her hard in the back of the head and grumbles “Estúpida!” “Lucy, her logical brain knows that there is just friendship between us. But you know how insecure she can get, and it’s been getting worse again lately. You should’ve been more attentive”, Ona says, disappointed. “Yeah you better fix this before it's too late”, Keira says seriously, and Lucy just sighs, realizing that she really messed up. “Right now she doesn’t want to see you, I think she has a mild concussion so give her some space, but you guys gotta talk tonight”, Alexia says and gives the brunette a little shove back onto the field.

At the end of practice, Lucy immediately runs to the physio room, but you’re gone. „Where is she?“, Lucy asks the physio as he comes in. „I drove her home. She needs rest“, he says, and she just looks worried at him. „Lucy, relax. It’s just a mild concussion. The ball just hit her at the wrong spot. She’ll be okay in a few days“, he says reassuringly, but it does little to calm her worries. She pushes her hair out of her face and takes a deep breath. „I know, I just really messed up. Thank you for driving her home. I gotta go“, Lucy says and jogs into the locker room. Changing with the speed of light before grabbing her bag and running out again. She doesn’t have time for a shower. She needs to get to you.

Speeding home, she runs in and looks around for you, but the apartment is empty. Grabbing her phone, she calls Alexia. „She’s not here“, Lucy says as soon as Alexia picks up. „Lucy, calm down. What?“, Alexia says, still in the locker room with most of the girls. Ona and Keira look up as Lucy‘s name falls, coming a bit closer so they can hear too. „She’s not here. Y/N is not here. She was told to rest, where is she? What if something happened?“, Lucy asks, worried. Rechecking all the rooms. „Hey Luce, calm down. Come on, take a deep breath“, Ona says, and Lucy rubs a hand over her face before taking a deep breath. „Think. Is there any place Y/N could be? Any place she likes to go to think?“, Keira asks gently but worried about you as well.

The line is silent for a moment as Lucy tries to think. „Isn’t there a spot at the beach close to your apartment that she likes?“, Alexia asks as she remembers you telling her about something like that. „Yeah, I think I know where she is. I‘ll keep you updated, thank you“, Lucy says and hangs up before she grabs her keys and phone and is out the door again. Leaving a completely confused Narla behind.

She sends a quick text to Ona and asks her if she could take Narla out while she was looking for you, which she, of course, does. She runs almost the whole way to the beach. As she gets to the part where it is quiet and especially during this time empty, she sees you leaning at the railing. She sends a quick „I found her“, message to the three girls and packs her phone away. Catching her breath, she slowly approaches you.

„What are you doing here?“, you just ask without looking at the brunette. You know exactly who it is without having to take a look. „I wanted to make sure you’re okay“, Lucy says softly, taking your headphones from your ears carefully. You look at her, your eyes hiding behind your sunglasses. „As you can see I’m fine“, you just say.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Can we please talk?”, Lucy asks softly. “What? You just wanna tell me I’m ridiculous again? I can deal without, thank you”, You just say and turn to look out to the sea again. “Hey, no”, Lucy says and guides your chin back to look at her. She pushes your sunglasses up to look into your eyes and says honestly “I messed up badly, and I’ve been an ass. I didn’t pay attention and did not treat you like you deserve. I’m sorry. I know a simple I’m sorry won’t do it, but I need you to know that.”

“You know how disgusting it feels to be treated like you make a big deal out of nothing, when it’s all you can think about? When your insecurities and anxiety get dismissed with a simple, you’re being ridiculous? You know how I am Lucy. My logical brain knows that Ona and you are just friends. A simple reassurance and afternoon spend together would’ve fixed everything, but instead, you had to treat me like a piece of shit. Like I’m just this jealous clingy girlfriend. Do you know how much that hurt? To feel like you’re throwing three years away just like that? I’m not asking you to stop spending time with her or not checking on her when she goes down during practice, but, for fucks sake, don’t take me for granted. I don’t need much, but if you want this relationship, you gotta treat me with the respect and love I deserve. Because I can’t take whatever this is much longer. Love me or leave me, that simple”, you tell her as tears start to fall from your eyes. The more words leave your mouth the more tears fall.

She knows how fast you can spiral, but she hasn’t expected it to be this bad. She gently dries your tears as she starts to tear up a bit herself. “Y/N I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I acted like that. I should’ve seen how much my behavior hurt you. Instead, I just kept going and didn’t pay attention. I was wrong, and you didn’t deserve that. I never wanted you to even think about doubting that my love for you is still there. I messed up, and yes, I took you for granted without noticing, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. Y/N, I love you. I love you so much, and I don’t know how my head got so messed up that I stopped trying to show that to you. I’m truly sorry, I promise to make it up to you if you let me. I promise, I love you like you deserve because you deserve the world, my love”, Lucy says honestly, and you just hiccup slightly, trying not to sob. This is all you needed to hear, but you spiraled so deep you’re not sure if you can trust her words.

“Are you just saying this, or is this the truth?”, you ask tearfully. “It’s the truth, please let me make it up to you and love you like you deserve”, Lucy says softly, scared that she really messed up so bad that she’s past the point of a second chance. “Okay”, you mumble quietly, praying you won’t regret trusting her. You’re just in a bad place mentally, and it’s hard to even trust Lucy.

As she hears the okay, she’s quick to pull you into her arms and kisses your forehead. She holds you close, and you cling to her, crying into her chest. Tears are falling down her cheeks as well, but her focus is on you. She needs to take care of you now, treating you like you deserve.

It takes you a few minutes to calm down, Lucy’s heartbeat being able to pull you out of those dark clouds in your head and into a more relaxed state. But that also makes you feel the symptoms of the concussion again. It’s a blessing and a curse. You squeeze your eyes shut as your world spins.

Lucy can tell how unsteady you’re getting, so she just tightens her grip on you and says “Shh, I got you, my love. Let me take care of you.” You just clutch her shirt tightly, leaning on her heavily. Your head pounding. “Let’s get you home. You want me to call a cab to get us home?”, Lucy asks softly as she kisses your head. “No, the motion makes me throw up. I’ll be okay, just give me a minute”, you mumble and try to breathe through the pain and dizziness.

“Take your time, I’ll carry you if you need me too”, Lucy says, and you know she will, but it’s a 15-minute walk to your shared apartment. “Yeah and then you won’t be able to walk for the next three days because of your knee”, You tease weakly. Lucy can’t help but smile at this slight return of banter. “It’s worth it for you”, Lucy just says with a soft shrug and smiles before she kisses your forehead.

You just smile softly and rest against her for a moment longer, taking a few deep breaths. “Okay, I’m ready”, you mumble, and Lucy wraps an arm around your waist to steady you while you make your way home slowly. “When you need a break, tell me”, Lucy says and kisses your temple gently, and you nod.

To be fair, by the time you’re almost home, she is half carrying you. You’re exhausted and definitely pushed yourself too hard today after your concussion. The nausea gets worse the more you walk, so barely five minutes away you stop Lucy and start to throw up again into the grass without much of a warning. “Okay, I got you, love. Deep breaths”, Lucy says, gathering your hair and rubbing your back while keeping you steady. There is not much for you to throw up, so you calm down quickly, but your legs are threatening to give out.

“Do you want me to carry you on my back or bridal style? What do you think will make you less dizzy?”, Lucy asks, it’s not a question of if. It’s how you want to be carried. “Bridal”, you just mumble quietly. Being able to hide your face in Lucy’s neck sounds amazing. She picks you up immediately and carries you the rest of the way home. Did her knee protest a bit? Yes, but she’d do it all over again without a thought.

Once home, she carries you to bed, and you’re greeted by Narla, who jumps on the bed and showers you in kisses. Lucy sets up a bucket and enough water before tucking you in. “Get some sleep. Rest that pretty head of yours. I’ll be here when you wake up”, Lucy says, running her fingers through your hair. “Promise?”, “Promise. I love you”, Lucy says softly.

“I love you too, I missed you”, you just mumble before you doze off. The last thing you feel is a kiss on your forehead.

[megumiluvv]

One day, Choso is confused when you cancel watching Yuji with no explanation. Usually, there’s a long apology and reasoning, usually a last-minute scheduling issue, but today? Radio silence. After getting his uncle over to watch Yuji, Choso walks next door to check on you, knowing he’ll be late to his nth part-time job.

When you don’t answer the door, he uses the spare key you gave him, and he calls for you. Still, no response.

He gets to your room to see you passed out on your bed, phone in hand with a half-typed explanation to him, and blankets twisting with your legs. Choso picks up your phone, reading the half-typed text with multiple spelling errors, able to make out “ghreq ip” and “um so sprty”, knowing it probably means “threw up” and “I’m so sorry”.

The dark-haired male frowns and shuts off your phone, putting it on the charger and onto your nightstand. He then shuts off your lamps and fixes your blanket. Choso then goes to your kitchen and calls into work, claiming he’s sick and can’t make it to work. He then starts to cook your favorite soup.

You wake up to the smell of food, the feeling of dread instantly occurs, thinking you accidentally cooked something while delirious after throwing up. You scramble out of bed and hurry into the kitchen and find none other than your neighbor cooking soup for you.

“Choso?” You mumble, sleepy and confused, throat hoarse from your earlier vomiting.

“Go back to bed,” he mumbles, not even turning to look at you as he continues to cook. “Actually, try the soup, does it need anything?”

He carefully blows on the spoon to cool the broth and then brings it to your lips. You taste the soup and nod.

“Good.” Is all you manage to say as you watch him cook. It never gets old. Watching how docile and domestic he can be while looking so imposing and menacing.

He lays you back in bed despite your protests, and leaves the room. He quickly returns with a bowl of soup and sits in front of you.

“Here, open up.”

“Nooo, go work, I’ll get you sick,” you mumble.

“Don’t care, open up, I already said I’m not working today.”

“Fiiine…”

He carefully cools each bite of soup for you and spoon feeds you. Choso smiles at your tired, sickly expression.

“Yuji’s with our uncle, if you were wondering,” he mumbles and feeds you, letting you sip your water.

“What was his name again?” You mumble.

“Sukuna. He instantly thought of something inappropriate when I said you cancelled today.”

“Oh god…”

“Yup. Instant smirk on his face.”

“What’d he say?”

“Said that you and I should be more careful.” Choso rolls his eyes at the innuendo left by his uncle’s words.

“He thinks I’m bedridden because… that’s so inappropriate…” It took you a while to get the innuendo, but when it did click, your cheeks flushed.

“Yeah, it is.” He agrees.

He goes back to feeding you instead of continuing the topic.

“Yuji misses you already. He said he wanted to play hide and seek today.”

“Maybe we’ll play next time.”

“I’m off work for the rest of the week.”

“Oh, guess I’ll have to wait til next week, then.”

“Who says my dear neighbor can’t visit any time when they feel better?”

“Right, we’re neighbors, friends, not just babysitter and employer, huh?” You smile, starting to feel better after eating.

“Yeah, we are, aren’t we?” He smiles too, always smiling when he sees yours. “Feel better and the three of us can all play.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m working on feeling better. Give me like, a day or two,” you mumble and lay down.

Choso chuckles and contemplates lying beside you, but doesn’t want your protests about getting him sick. He decides to let you rest and he fixes your covers, then puts up the leftover soup and cleans the dishes, staying quiet so he doesn’t wake you. He could get used to doing small things for you.

Masterlist

[wosoamazing]

14:00

Warnings: Death, CPR, car accident, blood, head injury, stud’s causing blood, match abandoned, panic attack?, ankle injury, vomit(barely, bile), badly translated Spanish - google translated (has english though too). 

A/N: Part 2? If yes Angsty or Fluffy?? Or both??

One minute you were walking down the street with your best friend, the next minute you were on call with 112, about to start CPR on your best friend. Every minute that went by she slipped further and further away. The women who hit her. The women who didn’t even know her was breaking down. Her continuous screams of “I’m sorry” pierced your ears over and over. This women, a women who didn’t even know her was allowed to break down but you couldn't. You had to fight back the tears that brimmed your eyes. You had to stay strong. Watch how her chest caved inward with every compression. Watch as the colour faded away from her body slowly, as blood spilled out of her. Watch as her pupils dilated further. Watch as her chest caved in slightly less with every compression and feel how your arms burnt more with every compression, your breath becoming more ragged with every minute, becoming increasingly aware of your heart that pounded in your chest. A wave of relief should’ve washed over you as you heard the sirens but it didn’t, instead you steadily became increasingly aware of the severity of the situation you we’re in.

“Señorita, ¿puede dar un paso atrás? Nos haremos cargo.(Miss, can you step back, we will take over.)” You didn't even look at him, not even a glance, your mind was laser focused, nothing else could get in. You had to keep going. You couldn't stop. She couldn't die. A hand was placed on your shoulder and it pulled you back, the paramedics immediately resumed CPR, you knelt there, trembling, tears threatening to leave your eyes, but you didn’t let them win.

“¿Puedo comprobarte? (Can I check you out?)” A voice said as they placed a hand on your back, you flinched “No, no, estoy bien, estoy bien (No, no I’m fine, I’m fine)” you reassured yourself. Because you were fine, you weren’t the one dying on the pavement.

----

“Ella ha estado codificando durante una hora, llámalo (She’s been coding for an hour, call it)” “Hora de la muerte 14:00 (Time of death 14:00)” you turned around, walked away, not noticing some of your teammates standing there, they all expected you to break but you didn’t. 14:00 signalled your best friend’s time of death, it also signalled the death of your ability to feel any emotion, you walked straight out of the hospital and back home, like a robot, monotone, you continued to just go through the daily motions of life for weeks, somehow not feeling any emotion. Until Alexia decided to try and get through to you one day.

“Y/N! aquí ahora(here now),” up until this point she was letting you go, when you didn't respond when you ignored her, but she wasn’t letting you go this time.

“Why are you training?” she bluntly said “What do you mean?” you snapped knowing very well what she meant, ever since that day your ankle had been hurting, but you had managed to hide it, until today, you had a slight limp, but you hoped no one noticed.

“Your ankle is hurt.” “No, it's not, I’m fine.” “Y/N,” “I’m fucking fine Alexia, what don’t you understand about that, estoy bien, is that better, do you understand now, can't you just leave me alone, that's all anyone has been doing for weeks.” Alexia was hurt, you had insinuated she was dump, but she wasn't going to continue pushing. she knew you didn't like talking about your emotions, they all did, but your last words repeated over in her head, was leaving you alone doing more harm than good, did you feel like you couldn't show emotion. She didn't know but she had just seen some sort of emotion from you, in your words and eyes, you had been aggressive and defensive, but your last words made her feel you were one trigger, one thing away from letting it all out.

____

It was only a week later when you were forced to show real and raw emotions again, there was a corner, and instead of Hannah Hampton’s glove hitting the ball she punched Lucy straight in the temple, causing the older women to fall to the ground with a thud, laying there lifeless, before she took studs to the shoulder as one of the Chelsea players stumbled backwards. She laid there lifeless blood pouring out of her, she couldn’t die, not this way, not the same way, your vision glazed over as the image of Lucy turned into your best friend, the sudden present of emotions choked you, the cries of the women met your ears again, the sirens, the paramedics, suddenly you couldn’t breath you had to get out of there, you ran, quickly, and found yourself hiding under a bench in the corner of the locker room, your were curled up as physically small as you could get, tears flooded out your eyes as you rocked, your hands squeezing the life from your legs, in an attempt to try and stay grounded.

Alexia had followed you, but she couldn't bring herself to moved further into the room, she just stood in the doorway not knowing what to do.

Ingrid came up behind her, informed her captain the game was abandoned, before the Norwegian women moved towards you and Alexia left, only to be greeted with all of her teammates standing in the hall, she was unsure of what to do, ever thankful that Emma offered they share the Chelsea showers, as quickly as possible your teammates came in collected all their things and quickly left, leaving just you and Ingrid in the room, the women had been trying to coax you out of your head and at least slightly back with her words, trying not to startle you, but it wasn’t working, she had no option but to place a very soft hand on your arm, which caused you to jump in sheer panic, you only ever so slightly opened a gap between your leg and arm to see who it was, but it was enough for Ingrid to see how much of a state you were in, your eyes wide open, pupils dilated in fear, tears streaming down your face.

Once you realised it was Ingrid, someone safe, someone soft, you immediately launched yourself at her, before yet again curling into the smallest ball you could in her lap, clutching at her jersey, which was quickly soaked from your tears, she held onto you tight, placing her chin on top of your head, rocking you softly as you continued to sob, as your body shook, as you were falling apart in her arms, and she was just glad someone was there when you did fall apart, her biggest fear the whole time had been what if someone wasn't there when you broke, when your heart cracked open, when the temporary tape that kept your heart together broke, but here she was, the tape had broken, causing your heart to shatter, and Ingrid was there to hold you. At some stage Mapi had come in, and sat next to Ingrid, she placed a cautious hand on your back and left it there, not moving it.

---

Your mouth started to fill with saliva, and your body rolled forward before you were met with a sour fluid in your mouth, Ingrid quickly moved a sick bag up to your mouth, and you spat out the bile before taking a small sip of water and resuming your tight ball, your eyes were still streaming, although your body had stopped shaking as much as it was. The two women resumed, their positions of just sitting there, in silence, with you, both knowing you would talk about it with time, both knowing you didn't want to be pushed, and you didn't want someone telling you it was okay, or that it would be okay because no one in life actually knew whether it would be okay or not. So they sat there with you, giving you the physical comfort and reassurance you needed, having no intention of moving until you wanted to.

---

“Go,” you said so quietly the two women barely registered it, you didn't know how long it had been, but you felt okay now, you felt ready to go and talk about it.

“Sure, you’re going to stay with us though okay,” you didn't say anything, just nodded, you were thankful you didn't have to go home to your cold apartment which was once filled with warmth from your best friend, the apartment that was once filled with laughter, once filled with joy. Ingrid lifted you up with her, and as you stood your ankle was throbbing, but it had been for the past week, what was different, however it was different when you took your first step towards the exit, a simple step caused so much pain, from one simple step your knee buckled under you as a shooting pain rose up your leg. Ingrid quickly wrapped a hand around your waist, steadying you.

“I-Ing, um, c-could we, p-pos-posibly g-go t-to the, the physios f-first?” you softly stuttered, she looked at you slightly bewilder that you had opened up so quickly about your ankle that everyone knew was hurt, the one that was clearly hurt the day Alexia called you out for it and you insisted you were fine, even though it was evident you weren't, both of them were concerned that it had somehow gotten worse in the past hour both just standing there not knowing what to do, “my-my an-ankle,” she nodded, and Mapi quickly moved ahead of you both to see if the Chelsea physios were still there and whether they could look at you or not.

“Our physios aren’t here, but the Chelsea physios are going to take care of you,” they looked over you, before getting an x-ray. “It's broken, but we are worried about ligament damage since it looks to be a stress fracture, she is going to need to get scans at the hospital,” your body stiffened at his words, as your eyes widen and you started trembling “no-no-no hospital,” you pleaded, “Can’t you just put her in a boot and give her crutches, other than possible surgery what else would they do different if it was ligaments too.” Ingrid tried to reason with them, “We can but there is a possibility that if we don’t do the scan on her ankle today she could have to have a bigger surgery and longer recovery, or will be in pain every time she plays forever” “Qué más va a hacer una semana o dos? ya ha pasado un mes” (What more is a week or two going to do. It has already been a month)

[m0llygunn]

friends with b(aby)enefits (eddie munson x fem!reader)

MONTH ONE: Just friends—what a silly concept. After your accident, Eddie's been a full-fledged comedian, ill-conceived jokes left and right... neither of you are laughing though when his 'comedy routine' comes back to bite the both of you in the ass.

cw: 18+!, mature language, smut, pinv sex (unprotected again smh), pet names, vomiting, a lot of pregnancy related topics, potentially dramatized pregnancy symptoms (for the plot obvi, also idk anything about pregnancy), mention of readers period, mention of birth control an: lots of minor time jumps/cuts but we get some eddie pov!!! wc: 8.3k+

0 / 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 00

Arms wrapped around your waist from behind, both palms pressed flat to your belly.

“How are my girls doing today?”

Comically loud, heavily puckered kisses scattered over the top of your stomach, catching you by surprise— not at all expecting to be ambushed with facetious affection by your friend. 

Eddie thinks he’s a comedian. 

With about a month of his poor taste in jokes, he thinks he’s hilarious— and a self-proclaimed prophet because he 'just knows' that it's a baby girl. He's full of shit and you desperately try to not give him the benefit of finding his terrible jokes humorous. To your demise, from time to time, they get you.

His latest stunt was when he greeted you for your usual Friday get together. He swung the door open quick enough to stun you and immediately dropped to his knees. With a firm hold on your hips, he leaned in close to your belly, “Hi, baby girl. Did you miss daddy?” he cooed with big eyes and an even bigger smirk.

With a hand on his forehead, pushing him away, unfortunately you laughed, and unfortunately it feels like all of his jokes are coming back to bite the both of you in the ass. It’s hardly been 24 hours since the offending, but objectively funny joke, and neither of you are laughing now.

“Maybe you just ate something bad?” he offers with sheer, dumb, hope. “Or maybe it’s the flu?” he says, snapping his fingers together like he struck the gold mine of an idea.

Eddie can be as hopeful as he wants, but as you lower yourself down to the couch from vomiting your insides out in the bathroom, the panic in his eyes is evident.

“Maybe,” you reply dully, dropping your head to rest against the back of the couch. 

“Do you want to lay down? I can bring you to my bed?” he asks with concern lacing his words. 

“I’m—” you start, but with acid suddenly rising in your throat again, your eyes go wide and you jump from the couch with a renewed energy, just barely making it to the bathroom.

──────���─────

To put it plainly, you vomited two more times after. When you finally felt like you were done throwing up, with an empty stomach and a sore body, Eddie helped you to his bed and you slept off your spell of nausea. When you woke up a few hours later feeling a touch better, both of you decided the best choice would be to buy a pregnancy test. 

“Just to be safe, right?” he had said, eyes burning into you as you laid sprawled across his bed, feeling no longer nauseous, but instead like an empty shell of a person. “We should buy one, right?” he asked again, eyes growing wider in your silence. 

It felt like even moving your sight line to look at him took too much energy, but you met his gaze, and he nodded his head like he had made his own silent conclusion. 

“We’ll go after, okay?” he said, continuing his one-sided conversation. Standing from the edge of the bed he wiped his palms down the front of his thighs before straightening out and rubbing his hand down from his mouth to his chin. He nods a second time, doing what you assume is him coming to another silent conclusion. “I’ll get you crackers?” he continued, eyebrows raised. 

With your eyes locked on him, you swallowed the dryness in your mouth. You hadn’t done anything notable, hadn’t even attempted to answer him, but his face softened, mouth turning into a regretful frown. 

“Sorry you’re sick,” he said, bending down to pat your head, letting his thumb trace gently across your temple. It was a tender movement and you absorbed the warmth of his contact, letting your eyes blink shut. “I’ll get you water too, okay? Water and crackers and we’ll see how you feel after that.”

Eddie’s a lot of things, but nurturing and soft, and with high levels of compassion is not exactly how you would describe him. He can be those things, but principally, he’s more of an asshole— but one that you love enough to keep around, obviously. But an asshole, nonetheless. The last time you had the flu he laughed at you and made fun of the way you threw up, albeit, it was when you both were in your teens, but regardless, he was a dickhead about it— and most recently, when you had gotten a cold, he ceaseless made fun of your constant sneezing and the blazing red tone of your sore nose from blowing it so much, calling you Rudolf and asking how ‘Big Red’ was doing at this time of the year. Asshole.

Dichotomously to the Eddie you’ve known all these years, he grazes the backside of his knuckles across your cheek, rubbing them back and forth gently. It's painfully obvious he doesn’t do this often from the way his hand jerks, finger nearly poking you in the eye, but you appreciate the notion. You know you must really look awful if he’s managed to compose this much compassion for you. 

────────────

They say that nothing makes people more productive than the last minute. As the pharmacy's closing time approached, it was only then when either of you felt so inclined to even mention going to get the test.

After Eddie got you your water and crackers, you started feeling much better, and feeling much better meant it was easy to pretend like nothing had happened. You both unhealthily and aggressively ignored your potential futures by acting like it was any regular Saturday evening. You talked about your upcoming work week, and watched the usually shitty reruns on TV. Eddie made some freezer-burnt chicken nuggets, you warmed up some soup, and it was boring and uneventful, but it was the most comforting that boring and uneventful could be. 

The sun began to set and it was like the ticking of Wayne's alarm clock on the coffee table beside you only got louder and louder as time went on. 

“S’almost eight,” Eddie had eventually mumbled. You swallowed, keeping your eyes on the TV as you found this particular old rerun episode of Mama’s Family to be the most interesting thing in the world, which is odd considering you usually change the channel whenever it's on. 

With both of you sitting at the couch, feet kicked up, resting side by side on the coffee table, Eddie moves his foot far enough to just barely knock yours— an attempt to pull your attention away from the screen.

“The show’s almost done,” you say, turning your head towards him but keeping your eyes on the TV.

“The pharmacy closes at eight.”

“I feel fine,” you shrug.

Moving your feet from the tabletop, Eddie copies you, putting his feet down on the floor, but he goes a step further, sitting up from the couch. He stands, facing you, but you keep your eyes on the TV, ignoring him fivefold. He props his hand on his hip, arm bent at the elbow, one foot tap away from looking like someone's mother. You ignore him tenfold. 

“You want to stay here while I go?”

“Go where?”

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” he laughs. You can hear the amusement in his voice. His hand drops from his hip and you look at him to see the smirk written across his face.

“Go where?” you double down. Huffing a laugh from his nose, he turns, opting to get himself ready, and begrudgingly, you do too. With your feet dragging through every step, you get in the car, and Eddie drives the two of you to the pharmacy. 

────────────

Under the bright, white fluorescent lights of aisle number eight, you and Eddie stare your potential future down. An unnerving amount of tests sit on the shelf at eye level, some with cute little daisy packaging, others looking sterile and pharmaceutical. 

“Why are there so many options?” Eddie asks, picking one up and flipping it to read the back. You look at the price tags and your mouth nearly drops to the floor. 

“Why are they so expensive?” you ask, taking the box out of his hand and putting it back on the shelf.

“Hey,” he objects, reaching out for it. “That one says response in twenty minutes.” 

“That one is, like, twice as much as that one,” you argue, pointing to another test.

“Yeah,” he says, grabbing the test from the shelf. “That one says a two hour response,” he continues, pointing at the exaggerated font on the front of the test in his hand, waving it in your face. “I’d rather be shitting my pants for twenty minutes than two hours.”

He’s acting normal, braggart and teasing, you can’t muster that same energy. Your stomach swirls and squeezes and does everything it shouldn’t do. Nerves or nausea, you’re not sure. A ceiling light flickers two aisles over and you can’t stand being here.

“Maybe…” you pause. Your hands start to turn clammy. “Maybe we shouldn’t get any,” you say, shifting in place. You turn to fully face Eddie, looking at him as he has a boxed test pulled close to his face, reading the side of it. “Maybe we should just go home.” 

Eddie turns to you, brows furrowed. “No— what? You just spent the whole day throwing up, we gotta get something,” he says, looking at you like you’re insane. The ceiling light flickers again and you definitely feel insane. 

It wasn’t the whole day, it was just the morning, you nearly object until you realize it doesn’t help your case. 

Bringing your hand to your mouth, you chew on the edge of your nail, distracting yourself from the tremble in your limbs. From left to right and back again, you flutter your sight over the different options. There’s too many. Too many and it’s overwhelming. 

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. The weight of his arm settles around your shoulder, pulling you so that your bicep meets the edge of his chest in a half hug. “Don’t be nervous,” he continues, in a low coo. You step inwards, turning the half hug into a full hug. Taking a deep breath, all you can muster is a short nod of your head. 

His arm moves from your shoulder, hand grazing down to your mid back. Focusing your attention on his touch, you take another deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent. Smoky, woodsy, and a contradicting sweetness from whatever shampoo that was probably the cheapest and on sale.

“We’ll be fine, remember? You probably just ate something bad.” he says. He rubs his hand up between your shoulder blades and back down. You want to believe him, you really do. 

“I’m scared,” you say quietly.

“Why?” he asks, voice just as small as yours. 

“It… it doesn’t feel like I ate something bad.” You swallow down the jagged edges of emotion that your voice gets stuck on. His hand, mid rub, pauses and you pull away enough to see him. His eyes glaze over with something you’re unsure of before he quickly blinks it back. 

“Well…” he swallows. “What does it feel like then?” he asks, brows turned upwards. He's nervous, you’re nervous, and the light flickers again, reminding you where you are. 

“Can we go home? Please.” Your nerves become far too jittery and it’s starting to turn into nausea again. Your stomach lurches and Eddie watches you for another moment, eyes searching yours until he nods, patting your back before pulling away.

“Yeah. I’ll just buy this one and we can go.” He takes your hand in his, twenty-minute-test in the other, and he guides you to the front of the store. 

────────────

“It’s almost nine now, so it’ll be ready at…”

“9:20,” you say when Eddie takes a concerning amount of time doing the math. The ride home was quiet. Being out of the fluorescence helped your nerves, and as you got further and further away from the pharmacy, and closer and closer to Eddie’s place, you started to feel normal again. 

“I knew that, I was just… thinking,” he responds. He sits up from where he was crouching in front of the dresser, using it as a table to put together the test. 

Decidedly, it was just nerves that had put you on edge, that’s it. The test is nothing but precautionary, just to rule out what could have made you sick. Eddie joins you, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Uh— before, we get a response,” he pauses, wringing his hands together. His eyes move down to his lap and your chest tightens. “I just want to say that whatever it is… I don’t regret what we did… and whatever it is, I’ll be there… for my girls.” 

He looks at you, his smirk widening by the second, and you can’t help the snort of laughter from escaping. Like every other ill-timed joke that he's pervasively told over the last month or so, he gets you, and you appreciate it this time as it lessens the gnawing feeling in your belly.

Despite the joke, when you really look at him, with his lips spread in a smile, his eyes swarm with the same trepidations that you feel. He’s a comedian but even the comedian is human. You try your hand at lightening the mood. 

“What if it’s not a girl?” you ask, playing along. He smiles, bumping his shoulder into yours as he huffs a breath from his nose. Shaking his head in an almost mirthful way you think you were successful until his demeanour drops into something serious. 

“What did you mean earlier?” he asks “When you said that it doesn’t feel like you ate something bad?”

“I just— I don't know. I just, I thought I had a feeling,” you explain. Eddie hums, eyes now set forward on the test. “I think I was just nervous, that’s all.” 

Twenty minutes has never felt longer. Eddie accepts your answer at face value but doesn’t do much to show it. He doesn't do much in general, and neither do you. At the ten minute mark, his hand found your knee. At the fifteen minute mark you were curled under his arm, resting your head on his chest as he rubbed up and down your arm. In the last minute, you had taken his hand in yours, playing with his fingers as you watched the seconds tick by on his Casio watch. 

21:19:59 turned to 21:20:00, and you turned to Eddie. Synchronously and in silence, you parted from each other. He stood and you sat. He moved to the dresser, and you held your breath. 

With his back facing you, you watch with unblinking eyes as he reaches for the instructions. Humming to himself, your lungs ache. You try to parse the meaning behind his tone, or vibration, or pitch — or anything that could give way to what he's seeing, but it’s far too vague. Taking a deep and vital breath, filling your choking lungs, you're just about to ask, mouth already open when he speaks.

“It says negative.”

“It says negative?” you parrot in disbelief.

“Negative.” Eddie firmly answers.

There’s no way. You should feel a weight lift from you, but, evident avoidance aside, that feeling is still there, stronger if anything.

“I…” you start, interrupting the loud beat of silence. “I’m not saying I want to be pregnant… but I think it’s wrong, Eddie.”

“Wrong? How could it be wrong?” he says, turning around to look at you. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Aren’t they, like, only guaranteed to work like 95% of the time?”

“That’s still a lot of the time,” he says, copying your shrug.

“Yeah… but—” you shake your head, stopping yourself. This is what you wanted right? Why would you fight against the answer that you mostly hoped for? That you were already certain about in the car barely an hour ago. “Whatever. It’s probably right. I think… I think I’m just… tired.”

Eddie nods, agreeing with you. He turns enough to set the test down, abandoning cleanup for another time— gross, but when he asks you if you’re going to sleep over, you willingly ignore the unsanitary act of leaving a used pregnancy test to sit and simmer bacteria growth. 

“You gonna sleep here?”

“Can I?’

“Of course,” he laughs.

────────────

If it were a peaceful morning, you would have woken up to the warm, red tinted sun coming into Eddie’s room through the maroon coloured bed-sheet-turned-blinds. 

If it were a peaceful morning you would have woken up to shared warmth, his arm just barely tossed over your hip, hand resting in the dip of your waist. 

If it were a peaceful morning you would have been able to bask in the meaning of having him beside you— what it meant beyond just shared warmth, what it meant beyond friendship. 

If it were a peaceful morning, oh, if it were a peaceful morning…

If it were a peaceful morning, you wouldn’t have woken up to rising bile in your throat and your heart hammering in your chest. It's not a peaceful morning, it's a race against time. With your hand cupped to your mouth, ripping yourself from the shared tangled sheets, tripping your way to the bathroom over the crap on the floor, time almost wins. 

You made it by a stroke of luck with not a second to spare.

────────────

“It must be the flu,” you had croaked weakly. Eddie nodded, looking at you with tired eyes that had been startled awake by your fumbling and awful retching.

“Yeah, it’s definitely the flu.” It was not a whole hearted agreement, but there was no way any bad food would still be in your system. And with a negative pregnancy test, the flu is the only answer. Obviously.  

The next day, in the quietness of your apartment, you kept a preemptive bowl next to your bed, just in case.

Thank god you did because it was the worst it’s been yet, and with your temperamental luck, you would not have made it to the bathroom this time.

────────────

“Hello?” Eddie answered from the other end of the telephone line. 

Your untouched breakfast sits on the table as you stand in front of your wall-hanging phone, leaning against the counter to stop yourself from keeling over entirely. 

“It's me.” 

“Oh, hey, didn’t think I’d hear from you so early, what's up?” His near chipper attitude is grating and if you could strangle someone through the phone you might have muscled up the last of your strength and considered it. 

“I’m still sick.” If you sound as awful as you feel, and equally as annoyed, it's because you are every terrible emotion in the dictionary. You are the essence of a bad mood, a side effect of how sick you’ve been.

“Shit—” he cursed. “I have work in thirty but I can stop by after?”

“Yeah, you already told me you were working,” you snark, because obviously he has work. It’s Monday.

“Do you want me to stop by after?

“I'm just telling you that I’m still sick.”

The call lulls and you can hear a slight rustle from the other end.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re sick and I feel bad,” he says, voice turning up like he's asking you if that is an alright answer. It’s not, and you twirl the phone cord between your fingers, distracting yourself from scoffing and saying something you know you’ll regret. 

The call lulls for another moment and he clears his throat, coughing right into the receiver. 

“Uh— aside from being sick… everything else okay?” he asks tentatively, pausing too frequently that it annoys you, even more so than you already are.

“I’m fine, I just feel like garbage.”

“Nothing else bothering you? I have a minute, we can talk?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“You’re— and don’t bite my head off— but you’re not on your period?”

“Why would you ask that?” You meet his stupidity with a harsh and rightfully deserved defensiveness. “Don’t you think I would tell you if I was? You know, all things considered.” 

His voice raises as he comes to his own defence. “Well, I just thought… 'cause you thought that maybe there was a chance that the test was wrong, but then we agreed it wasn’t and…”

“And?”

“And you’re in a bad mood.”

You hang up the phone and when it rings again, you let it. 

────────────

Eddie spent the whole day being eaten alive by his thoughts. You said you had a feeling, and Eddie knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t joke around about stuff like this. He would, he has, but you wouldn't.

Since the moment you told him that you weren’t on birth control, he had been thinking about it. Hypothetically, having a kid with you wouldn’t be the worst. He’d actually… like it… maybe? Would he say that to you? No, but it's not an awful thought.

Sure he made jokes out of it, but that was just his ill mannered way of accepting the fact that he kind of, maybe, potentially, would like having a kid with you… and being more than just friends. But he could never tell you that, so he made stupid, stupid jokes. 

But now that having a baby with you is less hypothetical, he’s fucking scared. Not because it’s with you, but because he might be having a fucking baby. That’s terrifying in and of itself. 

When you first started feeling sick, he let himself really believe for about an hour that maybe you had eaten something bad, but in his heart of hearts, he knew. There was no way. Four weeks and 3 days after he came inside you— not that he's keeping track of the days— and you’re suddenly experiencing ‘food poisoning’, even though you didn’t eat anything particularly abnormal or poison-like?

You’re pregnant. So fucking pregnant. There’s no way you’re not. 

“Hey, Bill. You have kids, right?” Eddie had asked as he sat down at the break table with one of his more favourable colleagues. 

Bill, more or less his mentor— or more eloquently put, the kind soul that's been helping him work his way up to being an actual mechanic and not just the guy who cleans and sweeps up after them like he’s been doing for the last year and a bit. He’s an older gentleman, doesn’t do much small talk, is in a permanent old man bad attitude, but he’s a good guy— reminds him of Wayne at times. Eddie trusts him enough, especially not to go talking about him around town. 

“Uh-huh. Grandkids too,” he answers, barely looking up from his newspaper. Eddie knew this of course, but he couldn't think of any other way to approach the topic. 

“Right, sorry,” Eddie apologizes, wringing his hands out of nervousness and dragging out the point of interrupting Bill’s lunch break.  

“You gonna be a father?” Bill asks bluntly.

Father? Eddie's familiar with a particular ‘F’ word, uses it way too fucking much in fact. Father, on the other hand, is an ‘f’ word that was barely in his vocabulary, he could go weeks without letting that word pass through his thoughts, let alone it being a descriptor of his very own character. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open as his breath stutters like a kid getting caught red handed. “No.” he stumbles to answer. “Uh— maybe. I don’t know. We don’t know.”

“So what are you askin’?”

“Your girlfriend— uh, wife—”

“Wife,” Bill answers with an annoyed ring to it. 

“Right, your wife… What was she like when she got pregnant?” 

Bill shakes his head, ignoring the question. “Did she take a test? They have those now. Can buy ‘em at the store,” he gruffs.

“We did, but it was negative. She… she said they’re wrong sometimes though, and she thought that… she thought that maybe it was wrong?”

Bill sets down his newspaper, the edges of both his fists meeting the surface of the table top. He looks to Eddie, catching his flighty eye contact, giving him his full attention.

“Morning sickness?”

“She’s been sick the last couple of days.”

“Hormonal?”

“Hormonal?” Eddie asks, quirking a brow. Bill rolls his eyes, not unlike how Wayne has done time after time.

“Bad mood? Mood swings?”

“Kind of?”

“I won’t go into detail because I respect my wife,” Bill says, eyeing Eddie through slanted eyes. “Any changes that aren’t to do with her mood?” he asks, looking down the slope of his nose.

“Huh?” Eddie thinks hard, trying to decipher what Bill means. Bill gives Eddie an encouraging nod that quickly turns short-tempered.

“Her body? Any changes?” Bill grumps.

“Oh.” Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Uh— I don't know. She’s not really my girlfriend, we’re just friends.” 

“Just a friend you got pregnant?” Bill’s near-permanent-scowl breaks into a smile, lips turning at the corners in a sadistic way, eyes gleaming with taunting amusement. Eddie feels his palms start to sweat. 

“So you think she’s pregnant?”

“I think you’re up shits creek with a turd for a paddle, kid. Gettin’ a friend pregnant,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he laughs to himself. He fixes his newspaper back upright, picking up where he left off in the classifieds. 

“Well, we’re good friends. I— she… we—” Eddie thinks about telling him that it’s you— Bill knows of you. Eddie’s talked about you enough, but he bites his tongue for the same reason that he didn’t go to Wayne about this— it would be all, ‘just ask her out’, ‘quit pussyfootin’ ‘round it,’ but he doesn’t get it, he can’t just ask you out. He—

“You like her more than a friend.” Bill says, making Eddie freeze. He opens his mouth to speak, to deny, to confirm, to anything, but nothing comes out. “Oh you got it bad, huh?” Bill continues with a teasing smile.

“C’mon, it’s not—” Eddie tries to object but Bill sees right through it. 

“You love her?”

“I…” Eddie swallows, thinking over his answer. “I don’t know…maybe?”

“Well, you got an interesting journey ahead of yous if she really is pregnant,” he laughs again.

And with that entirely unhelpful conversation, Eddie spent the rest of the day not only ruminating on you being pregnant, but now, his feelings for you as well. 

────────────

After work he went straight home, showered, got redressed in sweats and the cleanest shirt he could find and beelined straight for your apartment. He made one quick stop at the pharmacy but quicker than even he anticipated, he was at your front door. 

He knocked, and then there you were, opening the door for him, not exactly smiling— but not looking angry either, or sick, which is a good start.

Greeting him with a quiet ‘hello’, you opened the door wider. He stepped into your apartment, and like he mentally rehearsed, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Before he could look at your reaction, he turned, hiding his face behind the curtain of his still damp hair, and kicked his shoes off. 

He’s just trying to get back on your good side. After this morning— your bad mood, and then him only making it worse by asking if you were on your period, which he knew you weren’t because you said that it's been weird since you stopped birth control but… yeah, he’s just trying to get on your good side, definitely not anything more than that. 

Clearing his throat and praying his cheeks aren’t as flushed as they feel, he tries to move on. “How’re you doing?” he asks. You spare him, and you don’t mention the kiss nor give him any weird reactions— which is good, right? You would tell him off if you didn’t want him to kiss you, right?

“I’m doing fine now,” you reply, turning to lead him to the kitchen. He follows behind, humming an acknowledgement. At your counter is a full, waiting dish that looks like and smells like spaghetti. You sit back in your seat, and he takes the one next to it, putting his brown shopping bag down in front of him. 

He watches you as you bring a forkful of your dinner to your mouth. “You’re eating, you must not be feeling sick anymore?”

“No, I stopped feeling sick around lunch and then I was starving,” you say through a second mouthful, swirling your third bite around the fork. 

“Nice,” he nods. Eddie’s not sure of much, not now, hardly ever, but you feeling better around lunch means you only felt sick in the morning, and you being sick in the mornings falls exactly under the conditions of morning sickness… and that means…

Swallowing down his thoughts in a thick gulp, he reaches for the pharmacy bag. “Well, I bought another test just in case,” he rushes out quickly, moving to take out the good part of his shopping haul to lessen the blow if the test somehow pisses you off. “—and I also bought you—”

“Liquorice! Oh my god and popcorn,” you say excitedly, interrupting him with the loud crinkles of you grabbing for the package of candy, quickly ripping it open. 

Eddie watches you closely, the way your eyes light up for some of your favourite foods. He was taking a risk, buying you snacks when he knew that you’ve been sick but it was that or flowers and flowers seemed a little too… forward?

Your reaction to the snacks though, it’s not abnormal, but it’s not exactly normal either… a bit too… ravenous? To be fair, you were sick and now you’re feeling better, maybe you are just extra hungry…. But then again, there's also your bad mood earlier and sure you felt like shit from being sick, but you were usually pretty happy whenever you talked to him. He wasn’t used to all of these… mood swings.

Symptom after symptom, his thoughts finally bubble out. “I think you should take the test again,” he says, interrupting you as you rip open the bag of popcorn. You pause and he holds his breath.

With a shrug, you resume your movements, reaching into the bag and grabbing a handful. “But I feel fine?” you say, waving Eddie off.

“I think… maybe just in case?”

“Here, sit down, I’ll get you some spaghetti,” you ignore him, standing from your seat. “It’s so good, I swear. This is my second plate full.” You grab a dish from the cupboard, serving some up from a pot on the stove top without waiting for a reply from Eddie— not that he had one, he was too stunned by your unconcerned mood to think of one. 

Adding a slice of garlic bread to the side of the dish, you place it down in front of him, quickly moving back to your own seat to dig into the popcorn and finish your own meal. 

“You didn’t go to work today?” he asks after mumbling a polite thank you.

“No, I called in. When I got the promo, I got like six extra sick days, plus vacation time, so I figured I might as well use them,” you shrug indifferently.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, taking a quick glance at you before looking back to his plate of food, moving his fork around the plate absentmindedly. “Do you happen to have… better insurance with your job now?” he asks, attempting to match your aloofness.

You pause your fork before shoving it in your mouth, opting to turn to look at Eddie. He purposely avoids your eye contact, continuing to swirl his fork in his food.

“Why?”

“Just curious,” he shrugs. “Whenever I get my promo—” he pauses. “—if I get the promo, Coop gives out some shitty insurance plan. Was just wondering what you were getting these days,” he continues nervously.

“I have insurance.”

“Good.”

“Why’s it good?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him.

“Is it not good? You get sick, you don’t have to pay as much— I think that’s objectively good.”

“Fine,” you relent. You stare at him for another moment, but when you finally go back to your food, Eddie lets out a long breath that he was holding in before going back to his food.

He finishes his plate while lost in a daze of thoughts. There’s no way you weren’t pregnant. Absolutely no way. He doesn’t know much about pregnancy, that’s for sure, but this is checking off every single box in his very limited knowledge of symptoms. 

He only withdrew from his head when he felt you staring at him yet again. You had pushed your plate back on the counter, head resting in the palms of your hands as you watched him intently with a particular glint of something in your eyes, something that he’s only seen two other times.

“Hi?” he says shyly, cheeks tingeing pink. 

“You kissed me on the cheek when you came in,” you state.

“Yeah, I did,” he nods, cheeks deepening to crimson under your close watch. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” you ask, stretching your leg out under the counter, running your foot along his shin.

Eddie chokes on his food before looking at you with wide eyes. Elbow bent to cover his mouth as he clears his throat from his sputtering, his eyebrows raise high, hiding under his bangs as he works through your suggestion. 

“Like stay the night or just stay the night?” he asks, eyes burning into you out of shock. 

“I just kept thinking about before… and, you know…” you say, shrugging, hooking your foot around his calf.

“So like, stay the night?” he asks, eyes glimpsing down at your outstretched leg. 

With a sly smile, you nod your head making Eddie’s eyes grow even wider.

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m really sure.” 

Eddie takes a final bite of his food before pushing back in his chair. You excitedly stand, taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to your room. 

Maybe it’s a stupid thing to do when you’re both still up in arms about being pregnant, but Eddie would be a fool to say no to you. He physically couldn’t, has never had it in him. It doesn’t help that he really likes you and might potentially love you. And after all, he’s just a simple man. 

────────────

“Harder.” 

Your desirous voice echoing off of wallpapered bedroom walls, airy moans embellishing every thrust, Eddie does his best to give you what you want. Round two and countless of your orgasms later, you’re still begging Eddie to keep going.

Round one was fantastic. Sincerely earth shattering and left him winded and full heartedly wishing he took up track in his freshman year instead of smoking cigarettes. 

The night started with you riding him, insisting that he laid back, and who was he to say no to that? He watched you intently, grasping at your hips with each rise and fall, feeling the way your body nearly trembled over his own as you made yourself feel better and better. He was completely enamoured by the way your mouth rounded into a perfect oval, the way your eyes welled as you rose up and down, enjoying yourself truly and utterly. Then, when he took over, you were begging, whimpering, and moaning for him. He swore he had never came that hard in his life. 

With the long day of worrying and his stress induced sleepless nights wearing on him, he was nearly nodding off when you were on him for round two. It was exciting— you needing him like this, and his cock was kicking up again before he could process it. 

You came again, adding another tally to the growing tab of how many times you’ve come tonight. This time, you were on your hands and knees, back in a deep arch as he watched the recoil of your ass with each of his thrusts. 

The only thing on his mind was you. How you felt so perfect around his cock, how pretty you sounded whining and begging for him to keep going, how beautiful you are, and how badly he just wanted to keep making you feel good, but then it was like a switch flipped in his head. 

He heard it once, how pregnant women would sometimes get really horny. Insatiably horny— and you just kept asking for more, begging for him to keep going. You were cumming and still managing to ask him to keep going. He had never had sex like this before.

His skin that had grown damp throughout the night, covered in a permanent sheen of sweat, now drew dry, just like his mouth. His thighs burned, his calves begged for a break, his balls were aching from staving off his own release, and now there was very little uncertainty in his mind that you weren’t pregnant. 

Mid thrust, you clench around him, stealing his already stolen breath, pulling from his meandering thoughts. He refocuses his gaze on the bounce and jiggle of your ass and the sweet noises singing from your lips before letting his palms slide down the slope of your arched back, giving himself better leverage to keep going. 

There's no doubt in his mind that he can finish this round. Not only would he feel like an asshole if he tapped out now, but he would also feel like the biggest idiot because this has been it for him. This is the orbiting thought in his mind, the exact scenario that he conjures up in his imagination during his alone time. 

Swallowing thickly and taking an open mouth breath, he moves a hand from your back to wrap around your torso, finding your clit with his finger tips. “One more. Gonna give you one more, pretty girl,” he rasps, voice horse and ragged from his near panting. Your back arches even deeper, hips pressing back into his as you let out a wavered moan. 

“Feels so good, Eddie. Love your cock, feels so good,” you cry, taking heavy, moaning breaths between words, your voice staggering with each of his thrusts that push you further up into the mattress. 

“Mhm, know you love it, baby. Sucking me right in, n' so wet for me," Eddie says through exasperated breaths, words coming out babbled from his focus on not cumming as your walls squeeze him harder and harder.

“Want you to cum inside me again,” you whimper out. Eddie doesn’t answer, he just thrusts harder, rolling his hips against your backside, making you moan louder and giving you the last of every ounce of energy he has left in him.

When he feels your pussy start to flutter, tensing, and pulsating around him again, he knows you're close.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” he breathes, voice only getting lower and more ragged from the absolute marathon of a night.

“Gonna cum, Eddie.” Your voice rises so high in volume that Eddie's certain your neighbours can hear. 

“Cum for me baby, wanna feel you squeeze my cock one last time tonight,” he grunts, starting to feel delusional with the way his head spins. He grips his free hand on your hip, pressing his fingers into your skin and grounding himself to you, trying to push away some of the daze to think clearly. 

Eddie feels your tightness pulling him in almost immediately. He holds off his own release for as long as he can, bringing you through your orgasm until he can’t take it anymore. He pulls out just in time for his own release, sending his cum spurting over your lower back as his chest practically explodes, burning lungs having all the air expelled from them in a wheeze as he stutters through his orgasm. 

After taking a few, long moments to catch his breath, he reaches for the same towel he used earlier, wiping you clean before falling to your side feeling absolutely exhausted.

“Wanted you to cum inside,” you say pitifully, cuddling closer to him.

“Can’t, you're not on birth control, we didn’t have a condom.”

“You did it before,” you pout. 

“Yeah.” Eddie says, exhaling deeply. 

Yeah and now he's 99.9% sure you’re pregnant. 

“It’s late, got work tomorrow,” Eddie says, eyes unwillingly fluttering closed as you push your way closer to him, pressing your bare chest to his, speckling gentle kisses along his neck.

“Are you sure?” you ask, pressing another kiss to his skin. He barely has the energy to respond and you deflate against him with a sigh.

“Baby,” he coos, frowning when he looks at your lower lip jetting out in a pout. As much as he’d love to keep going, he physically could not go for another round. His cock might let him despite it feeling nearly raw from all the friction, but his aching body definitely would not. “Let me just hold you, okay? We can cuddle,” he offers to try to fix your frown. It only works the slightest bit, relaxing the crinkle in between your brows.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his hold. You let out a quiet whine at first, clearly upset, but you eventually relax into him, melding to his side. It’s not long before Eddie’s out cold, completely wiped clean of energy. 

────────────

You woke up, ripping yourself from Eddie’s grasp, hand over your mouth, rushing for the bathroom again. Eddie follows behind you, barely alert, but at your side, rubbing your back.

When you were certain everything inside your stomach was gone, you sat back, leaning against the edge of the tub.

“Think I should take that test.” 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

────────────

With the anticipation of waiting another painstaking twenty minutes, you sit on the ledge of the tub in your bathroom, watching Eddie’s back as he tinkers with the test again. The tailbone pain from sitting on the ceramic edge is nothing compared to the swirling nausea growing from your nervousness.

He had sat with you for a few minutes like the last time, but got up halfway through to get you water. He dallyed in the kitchen for a few minutes, and it was far too casual for you, especially too casual for the dramatic dungeon master himself. It was almost unnerving. 

At the fifteen minute mark, he sat with you again, throwing an arm around your shoulder, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into him. If his casualness was him disguised his nervousness, he doesn’t let on. 

This time, at the twenty minute mark, his watch beeped the grating default Casio alarm, and with the chime of a button being pressed, he stands, turning his back to you as faces the vanity. You don’t follow him, you couldn’t at this point, you feel welded to the tub ledge. 

Unlike last time, he doesn’t look at the instructions. He doesn’t hum. He doesn’t make any noise, he just turns to you, his body blocking the test. You feel your heart rate pick up, but he doesn’t give anything away with facial expressions or body language. 

His mouth opens, he takes a breath, you hold yours once again. 

“Well…” he starts. “You were right.” His tone is flat and you blink, trying to clear your confusion.

“I was right?” 

“Yeah.” he shrugs. “About the last test being wrong.”

“No.” 

“Yup,” he affirms, putting a plosive pop at the end of the word. Too casual.

With your heart pounding in your chest, thumping miles in minutes, you couldn’t process this even if you wanted to, so you don’t. You deny it. 

“You’re lying,” you state, ending your words with a light huff of laughter. Surely, this is all a joke. Eddie’s a comedian, right? Ill-conceived jokes left and right over the last month, this has to be one of them.

He doesn’t smile. His eyes don’t light up. He doesn’t laugh. “Come look,” he says, beckoning you over with a tilt of his head. 

You sit up from the ledge of the tub, moving to stand next to Eddie at the counter. He pulls out the instructions, pointing to a diagram.

“If the liquid turns blue, that means pregnant."

You look at the test, not bothering to look where Eddie points. Blue liquid sits where any other colour should be.

“It’s blue,” you state.

“Pregnant.” 

Pregnant.

The moment is eerily still. In the movies this is where the happy couples jump with excitement. In TV shows, they call family and let them know their good news. In commercials, they celebrate. They hug, they smile, they cry happy tears together. 

Eddie’s your best friend, but you’re not a couple, this wasn’t planned. So you both stand in silence, staring at the positive test.

“What do we do?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“We could go get something to eat? I can call out and we can rent a movie or something?”

“Something to eat?” you laugh. It’s positive and he’s thinking about eating?

“Yeah, you should try to eat something,” he shrugs, turning to look at you. 

“Eddie. I’m—” Pregnant, you go to say but the word dies on your tongue. “Why are you not freaking out?” you say, staring at him with wide eyes trying to understand how he’s not affected at all by this. You’ve known Eddie a long time and he’s not exactly the calm and collected type. 

“Well…” he shrugs. “When you said that you thought the first one was wrong, I trusted you more than the test. Believe me, I’ve been freaking out, but now… it’s, kind of, settled in already, I guess.”

“Settled in?” you say, jaw dropping in shock. It’s your body, you were mostly certain you were pregnant— in denial at times, yes, but you knew, yet having it confirmed is still shell-shocking. How has it already ‘settled in’ for him?

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “If you want to keep it, I’m happy. If not, I’ll support you.”

“Happy?” you say, bewildered. 

“Well… yeah. We’ve... we've been friends forever. A kid that’s part you and part me? That’s fucking awesome, how could I not be happy, y’know?” he says, moving backwards to sit on the ledge of the tub. He leans forward with his hands on his knees, watching you with eyes that are too calm. Too, too, too calm about this. 

In your quiet mental chaos, you take a final look at the blue liquid before moving to sit next to him. Your skin prickles with cold shivers but you feel hot all over, like there's a flame of nerves in your belly and a hot air balloon in your chest making each breath feel laboured. 

“I’m…” you stumble over your words. “I— pregnancy is so— Eddie,” you breathe out. Your eyes inevitably start to water.  

“Pregnancy is so Eddie?” he laughs before turning towards you, noticing your eyes turning glossy. His face drops immediately, features turning soft as his brows turning up in concern. “Hey,” he hushes. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine, remember? Everything will be fine,” he assures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder again, bringing you closer to him in a hug. 

“I know, I just—” you force a breath in your lungs. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“You can cry, it's okay,” he says quietly, and unfortunately, each of his nearly-whistled, whispered consonants pulls out a wave of fresh tears from you. His hand rubs over your shoulder and your cheeks only grow damper. “It’s okay to cry,” he repeats and you press your face to the cotton of his shirt. He pulls you in tighter, rubbing your back in long, steady strokes. 

Eddie’s seen you cry more than a handful of times— more than several handfuls of times, but this is substantial— it just feels different. Different because you’re pregnant. You’re going to have a baby. A baby with Eddie. Your best friend Eddie. Eddie, who you’ve had sex with three times. Eddie, who you’ve known forever, who you’ve spent day after day with, as a friend. Friends. You’re pregnant. Holy shit. 

Your mind races and you divert your thoughts before you stray down that road. “It’s gonna be half you and half me,” you say, mostly to yourself, repeating his earlier sentiment. 

“Half you, half me,” he echoes. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and yeah, this is different— different because Eddie doesn’t kiss you on the top of your head. He doesn’t give you kisses on the cheek either. Eddie’s given you noogies, he’s butted foreheads with you, even flicked you on numerous occasions, all particularly during your shared middle school years, but kisses? Kisses are unheard off. What you guys have been doing lately is unheard of. 

“We had sex and now we’re having a baby,” you state plainly, trying to bring any coherency to the situation, desperately needed to hear the unheard of.

“We did and now we are,” Eddie laughs. 

“You came inside me and now there’s a baby in there,” you continue, hearing every syllable of your own voice.

“That’s—” Eddie laughs quietly again. “Yeah, that’s how it works.” 

“I had morning sickness.”

“Yes you did. And mood swings.”

Pause.

“No I didn’t!” you gasp, pulling back from Eddie to look at him with a scowl. 

“You kind of did,” he smiles, dimples set deep in his grin.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You were also insatiably horny. I was getting leg cramps all night because of you,” he says, bopping your nose, making you scrunch it. Asshole.

“I was not ‘insatiably horny,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Well… if it’s any consolation, if you wanted to have sex again, I could cum in you now, ‘cause you can’t get any more pregnant than you already are,” Eddie says matter-of-factly, purposefully batting his lashes, playing up a faux coyness just to get a rise out of you. Such an asshole.

You respond by hitting him in the stomach, followed by pushing him until he almost falls into the tub, grabbing onto the shower curtain to stop himself. 

“Hey— hey, you were the one asking for it!” he defends, corners of his lips turned up in an untimely smirk. 

“I’m never having sex again,” you shriek, burying your face in your hands. 

“Well, let’s not make drastic choices right now,” he says amusedly, bringing you back in for a hug.

“I’m serious. Never again. Not with you, not with anybody. Ever.” 

“Let’s just get some fresh air, maybe we’ll start thinking straight about this,” he laughs, pulling you to stand up and guiding you out of the bathroom.

Pregnant.

tags: @princesatracionera @venuslayla23-blog @mastermindmiko @tlclick73 @yujyujj @josephquinnsfreckles @uselessnewt @animechick555 @prestinalove @sluggzillaa @daisyridleyss (if you want to be tagged for the next part I kindly ask that you please reblog!)

thank you for reading! <3

[jaysgirlx]

Hey sweetie, I’m feeling like I need a Jason fic where reader doesn’t like to be touched but he makes her feel safe enough that she gets used to him. Would that be something you’d write? I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night 😘😘

jason wasn't exactly a touchy man himself, he'd set a lot of boundaries as he grew older but he felt different when that came to you. he had the urge to want to hold you constantly but he quickly learned you weren't fond of that. there were too many mental scars that had yet to heal.

the two of you had been sitting side by side on his couch and he slyly tried to put his arm around you. you flinched and moved away quickly, and then came the word vomit.

"i'm sorry! it's really not cause of you- It's hard for me to- i just cant- it's okay if you don't want to hang out again after this, i just- i'm sorry!"

you were panting and trying to explain yourself because this wasn't his fault, this was a boundary you probably should've said earlier but you didn't. you were scared of losing jason too quickly because of your own issues but you were an idiot for thinking he'd leave like that. he was much better than that and he showed you exactly how.

when jason first realized that you weren't yet comfortable with him touching you he tried his best to make your dates and hangouts still romantic. instead of cuddling, he'd put pillows in between the two of you and you'd lay on them almost as if you were on him.

or when you two went out for walks he learned to wear long-sleeved shirts so you could hold onto his sleeve rather than his hand. it did take time to get used to but jason didn't see it as a burden he saw it as another way for him to show his love for you.

he found you the cutest when he'd be kissing you and you didn't know where to put your hands so you'd panic and grab onto his clothes. he knew you wanted to touch him but he wanted you to feel safe enough to make that first move and you eventually did.

"i swear it's not you or anything i just not comfortable being touched yet…i've had things happen to me and i just need time to feel a bit safer"

jason understood how you felt and respected it. he'd wait years if he had to, as long as you were with him, he didn't need much more. though your comfortability came much sooner than he thought.

it started off small like when you began to slyly slip your fingers into his and hold his hand. he won't deny that he actually blushed a little especially when you kissed him on the cheek goodnight. he knew he was probably touch-starved but he didn't realize how much he was missing without your touch.

you even started cuddling him during your movie nights and laying your body on his. and it was then that jason knew you felt comfortable with him. you finally felt safe.

things moved on a bit fast after that, your very gentle make-out sessions with jason became rough and needy. you'd dig your nails into his back while deepening each kiss more. your hands are roaming his back, trying to figure out what feels good, or what feels right but jason doesn't care. that fact that you're touching him is all that matters. that fact that you're comfortable is all that matters.

did jason dream of touching you constantly? absolutely! but would he have waited centuries to do so? only for you.

jason was in love with who you were and being able to touch you had nothing to do with that. this man fell in love with your personality and the love you were willing to give him and that was all he wanted.

"m'sorry for making you wait so long jaybird" you whispered while jason lips were busy kissing and biting your neck. he left a train of hickeys, hoping you wouldn't be too mad once you'd seen them, since you were quite focused on your current conversation "i know i'm a lot of work"

"good thing i'm a hard worker sweetheart," he said, while placing a hand on his hip and gently caressing your waist with his thumb. jason had started doing this,whenever he could tell you were overthinking or maybe overwhelmed. he was good with words but he knew how to soothe you "as long as you comfortable baby, then that's all i need"

you were all jason todd needed, he’d never admit it but he could love you from afar and still be happy because you'd be his and to jason that was all that was he really wanted.

for you to happy and safe with him.

[ellecdc]

hello!!! i love love love ur dating regulus headcanons and i was wondering if ur down to make one with sirius 🥹🩷 maybe with a lil sprinkling of sworn enemies to reluctant friends to lovers 👀 bc reader is in slytherin and we all know how that goes……….

you just write these characters with so much love and care and so close to how they’d be and act irl!! 🩷

Oof we love some inter-house enemies to lovers - thanks so much for your sweet words and for your request! 🫶

Dating Sirius Black Headcanons: Slytherin Edition

To know Sirius Black is to know his deep distain for Slytherins. 

It began as a kid when he finally took a look around at his family and thought “huh….I really don’t like any of you.” And he decided he’d like to be as different from his family as possible 

Now, when you’re eleven, the options of being different than your family are limited. 

One thing you can do, however? Is make sure you’re at least not a Slytherin like the rest of them.

If being ambitious, resourceful, determined, and clever … GREEN… meant being like the Black’s? No friggen thank you. 

Now, again, when you’re eleven, your vision of the world is skewed. So, this meant that he believed everyone in green and silver robes were just as bad as the green and silver robes that raised him.

Including you.

Your relationship (if it can even be called that) started with Sirius Black as you were often the unfortunate victim of many Marauder pranks. 

Some were relatively harmless…glitter bombs, stink bombs, charming the furniture of your common room to the ceiling, etc

Some were a little more distressing…charming your hair green, jinxing your textbooks to run away screaming every time you opened them, hexing you in the hallways 

You came to accept that part of being a Slytherin was being the victim of some torment…it also meant hating the marauders 

And it was so annoying because most of your house did actually deserve to be brought down a peg??? But you were literally just trying to get by so wtf.

You tried to keep your head down while also doing what you could to get back at the Marauders in your own little way

You just tried to be better than them at everything

It became a little bit of a competition between you and Sirius during shared classes

Better grades (usually you)

Who could raise their hand to answer first (Sirius)

Who could get the correct answer first (you)

Who brewed the better potions (roughly 50/50) 

You weren’t about to put yourself on a broom and agree to have balls thrown at you – but you learned everything you could about quidditch through reading and became an avid cheerleader for your house team

This slowly morphed into always cheering for the competitors of whatever team Sirius was cheering for in the Quidditch World Cup

Now, Sirius is popular…especially in the dating field…he’s well aware of this, and he can’t help but admit it does beautiful things for his ego

But Sirius is not the kind of guy to appreciate a partner who is a ‘yes-man’

He doesn’t want a partner who is following at his heels all of the time 

He’s not interested in a partner who thinks he’s always right and just takes his word for it

I truly believe Sirius would crave someone who would challenge him, push him to be better, someone who would teach him things instead of letting him be the smartest guy in the room

I also think he’d like someone who was kind of mean to him

“Hey L/N, couldn’t help but notice my name was above yours on the grades for last week’s assignments. Better luck next time, huh?”

“Sod off you stupid fucking wanker.”

He’d swoon a little I think 

This turned into a little competition on his end to see if he could fluster you

“I didn’t know she-devils could be beautiful too, Y/N. You’re blowing my mind a little.”

“One too many bludgers to the head, Black?”

Or

“Marauders are throwing a party in the room of requirement tonight. I usually don’t invite snakes but I’m sure we could make an exception for a pretty girl like you.”

“I’d rather choke on my own vomit.”

He’d try winking at you from across the room – he would only be spared an eyeroll.

He started making other comments, hoping to elicit at least a slight blush.

“You know, I hear you screaming at every Quidditch game. I can’t help but wonder how you’d sound screaming in my bed.”

You threw your pumpkin juice at him and left the Great Hall with a blank face.

It was infuriating - he loved it. 

Unfortunately for you, because you two were matched in terms of grades for class, you were partnered up for a project

He seemed a little too joyed at the extra opportunity to try to rile you up

“Look, Black, I know you like to coast through life, but do not mess with my grades because of whatever little infatuation you have going on with me.”

He wanted to be offended that you accused him of a) coasting through life and b) being infatuated with you, but you just looked so cute glaring up at him with your little nose all crinkled.

“Yes ma’am” he said simply

You were surprised by his agreeableness, but chose not to think about it too hard lest he change his mind

You kept your eye on him though

He actually didn’t make that bad a project partner – he was relatively clever, generally knew what he was talking about, and while he couldn’t go more than twenty minutes without teasing you or hitting on you, you got your work done, and done well.

You’d been having a bad day – put simply. You woke up at four am to the Slytherin dungeons being flooded (a prank you were sure was courtesy of the Marauders).

Your entire house had to vacate the dorms whilst the professors and Filch found the leak and dried everything up

It wasn’t until nearly six o’clock that you were allowed back in the dorms – and even then, everything was damp. Then, you slept through your alarm making you miss breakfast – your uniform still felt damp no matter how many drying charms you cast on yourself throughout the day, you had bags the size of a hippogriff under your eyes, and you were exhausted

Thankfully, Sirius had the good graces not to make any comments when you rushed to the library late to meet him, and you were sure you looked like you were in a proper state

Unfortunately, Mulciber and Snape weren’t as eager to let it go

Without warning, the inkpots on your table exploded covering you and Sirius and your work in ink

“Stay out of the dungeons, Black” Mulciber sneered.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” you screeched.

Snape almost looked apologetic when he took in the state of you. 

“Sorry, L/N,” Mulciber offered whilst sounding very unapologetic, “collateral damage” 

“Fuck that!” you said as you stood from the table. “I’m so fucking sick of being everyone’s collateral damage. I had my room flooded this morning too, you wankers. I’ve had my hair charmed green. I’ve had my textbooks jinxed to bite me. I’ve been hexed walking down the halls. I’ve been given detention for being out of uniform because my robes and tie were charmed red and gold. All of this even though I’ve never done a thing to the Gryffindors, but I choose to ignore it because I know it’s really only meant to piss you sods off, and I’m supposed to be some proud Slytherin who doesn’t concern herself with such childish play. So, you don’t get to show up here and expect me to be understanding when you’ve just made an already shitty day 700 times shittier!”

You ignored the librarian’s shouts about detention, house points and the like as you stormed out of the library 

You also missed the guilty expression that adorned Sirius’ face. 

You ignored and avoided Sirius and his stupid puppy dog eyes for a week after that. You redid all of your work that had been ruined that day in the library, handed it to Sirius and said “proofread it and edit it if you want, otherwise, hand it in and we’re done” before walking away again.

He tried sending you notes in class which you crumbled and threw back at him

You stopped trying to best him – no more grade comparisons, no more races to answer questions first, no more challenges to brew the best potion. None of it

If he thought of you as a heartless, emotionless Slytherin, then that’s what you’d be.

He stopped trying to get your attention after a while

You noticed that the Marauder’s stopped targeting Slytherin as a whole

You couldn’t really bring yourself to be thankful for it

They still pranked Mulciber, Snape, Malfoy, and the likes, however, which you were thankful for 

Until…

“L/N throws a fit and suddenly, Slytherins are left alone except for us. Tell me, did you tell your little blood-traitor boyfriend to lay off your friends?” Avery sneered condescendingly as you sat near the fountain in the transfiguration courtyard

You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore the lot of them

���pfft, hanging out with the likes of blood-traitors, next thing you know she’ll be whoring herself out to the likes of a filthy mudblood”

That you couldn’t ignore.

You saw red and, without thinking, launched yourself at Mulciber, both of you ending up in the water

Your fists seemed to have a mind of their own as they met the boy’s face over and over and over again

You felt your jaw click as his elbow met the side of your face and then the back of his hand struck you from the other side as he fought to get up from underneath you

You were both hauled out of the fountain by Hagrid, who was accompanied by Filch, and brought to detention

Unfortunately for you, Professor McGonagall was already hosting detention in the Transfiguration classroom – a few students plus the Marauders were sat quietly with quills and parchment in front of them when the squib caretaker pushed the door open, and the half-giant walked in with a sopping wet and bloody student in each hand.

“Caught these two fight’n, miss” he told her

“Oh, for goodness-” she started as she stood and came to inspect the two new arrivals.

“Mulciber, to the infirmary. Miss L/N-”

“I’m fine.” You spat, cutting the matron off.

“You should have your wounds seen to, young lady.” She admonished.

“I’m fine.  Are you going to give me detention or not?”

The professor grimaced but pointed you to an empty desk where a quill and parchment materialized. “you’re to write a foot worth of parchment about why what you did was wrong. Once you’re done, you’re to sit quietly until I dismiss you.”

You took your seat but made no motion to grab your quill or parchment

“Miss. L/N, start your parchment.”

“I can’t, professor.”

Every detentionee turned to look at you – save Sirius who already had his eyes glued to you from the second you had walked in – as the professor “begged her pardon”

“The way I see it, I didn’t do anything wrong.” You said simply.

“You didn’t do anything wrong?” She repeated incredulously

“Nope. I think people who call women whore’s or use the term mudblood ought to have their teeth punched in.” 

Sirius bit back a surprised snort at your response as he tried to ignore the warm feeling erupting in his chest 

“Fine, Miss. L/N. You will sit their quietly until I dismiss you. Are you sure you don’t need to see Madame Pomfrey?”

You wiped at the blood from the corner of your lip with your equally bloodied hands. “positive” 

Sirius was smitten

All of a sudden, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were? How lovely your voice sounded? And were you always so brilliant at everything you do?

He was even astounded by how gracefully you buttered your toast

Get a fucking grip, Black

I believe, to everyone’s absolutely shock, the cocky, playboy, Casanova Sirius became so unbelievably enamoured with you, he was so afraid to say anything to upset you/scare you away

But he wasn’t going to let you go

You still weren’t speaking to him, but you were no longer glaring at him – so this was a start

Every night you’d go to bed and there’d be a little tear-drop shaped chocolate on your pillow. You have no idea how it got there, who put it there, or even what a Hershey’s was. 

And you knew better than to trust suspicious things found around the castle 

So, you placed it in a jar on your bedside table and went about your life

A tear shaped chocolate was on your pillow every night for the rest of the week (until the end of school, quite frankly)

None of your dorm mates had any clue where they were coming from

Flowers were delivered to you every morning with the owl post. Not bouquets – but singular flowers 

By the time you had a jar full of those Hershey thingies and a full vase of flowers, a note was delivered with a familiar scrawl: meet me in the Astronomy tower tonight at 8

Now, Black had been on his best behaviour lately – but you knew better than to show up with your guard down

Sirius waited on the astronomy tower lookout, chain smoking, taking on and off his leather jacket as he was concerned he looked “too much like a tool” as Remus put it, hoping by all the gods you would actually show

“Alright, what’s the deal, Black? Gonna throw me off the lookout? Put a spider down my shirt? Is there a bucket of slime somewhere?”

Sirius’ heart nearly stopped at the sound of your voice, and then he barked a laugh when he saw you standing there in dueling stance with your wand aimed at him

“First of all, why would I throw you off the tower? Second of all, those are amateur pranks, I think I’ve earned a better reputation than that.”

You seemed to consider that as you lowered your wand but continued to look around skeptically “We’ll see…”

“Did you like the kisses?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Sirius laughed 

“The chocolates? They’re called Hershey’s kisses”

“That was you?”

“Uh huh, and the flowers”

“Why?”

Sirius smirked at you “for being so smart, you’re kind of dumb.”

“Sod off.”

“I fancy you, L/N.”

You stared at him in bewilderment “why?”

“Why?

“Why.”

“Let’s see. You’re the smartest witch I know. You put in me in my place every second sentence you speak. You’re talented, you’re stunning, I found out you attacked a man almost twice your size and won because he was a misogynistic racist and then refused to apologize for it, and because…you’re right.” 

“I’m right about a lot of things, Black; you’re gonna have to be more specific”

“I was prejudiced too. My family was hateful and Slytherin, so I spent my life assuming all Slytherin’s were hateful; I know now that those words are not synonymous. And I took that out on the lot of you – you didn’t deserve that.”

Was Sirius Black admitting that he was 1) wrong, 2) taking responsibility and 3) declaring his feelings for you?

“You’re brilliant. I just thought you should know.” he said at your silence

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you want, I suppose. Preferably give me a chance.”

“A chance to what?”

“To be yours.”

You said you’d “think about it” but to Sirius, you may as well have given him a resounding yes. He whooped and swept you up in a hug. He placed you back onto your feet and looked between your eyes and your mouth – a silent question.

In for a penny, in for a pound – am I right?

That was followed by a lot more kisses – chocolate and affectionate in kind

Sirius absolutely made some grand announcement in the Great Hall to establish that you were officially “thinking about” being his girlfriend so…. everyone can just do with that information what they will

You were horrified

You sent a stinging jinx at him for it

Definitely following around like a puppy who’s just so damn excited to see it’s owner

“What shops are we hitting at Hogsmeade first?”

“I didn’t realize we were going to Hogsmeade together?” you asked incredulously

Sirius scoffed as if you said something ridiculous. “’Course we are babe.” Which he accentuated by smacking a kiss on your cheek 

The kind to buy you everything you even look at in the store

“Come on babe, I saw you eyeing that book; of course I bought it for you!”

You started going to Quidditch games even when Slytherin wasn’t playing

You refused to show up wearing a red scarf

Your green scarf was charmed red once you were stuck in the stands

How your relationship first began with Sirius Black back in your first year became a foundation of your relationship going forward

You spent the rest of your lives pranking, jinxing, and charming each other

[moonstruckme]

Dude since you asked about tasm peter request, I have one

What about a sick reader? Like the reader really sick but peter have to be spider man so will he leaves reader or the other way?

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mention of vomit

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 584 words

Peter regrets leaving you the second he gets back. You’re not where he left you in bed, but the room smells of vomit and cleaner as he climbs in the window. He sets the gatorade he’d picked up on the way home on the nightstand. A quick search finds you in the kitchen, leaning both arms on the counter and your forehead on the microwave. 

“Hey,” Peter says, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle. He leans forward to kiss your cheek. It burns under his lips. “What’re you doing out of bed?” 

“Just getting water,” you sigh, taking one hand off the counter to rest it on his forearm. He’s still in his suit, and the nail of your pinkie finger skims over the slippery fabric. 

“You looked like you were about to have a nap.” 

“I started to feel weird,” you admit, “so I took a break.” Peter hums, easing you back so your weight rests on him instead of the microwave. You sigh. “I threw up again.” 

“I know, bub.” His thumb strokes your abdomen over your pajama shirt. “Do you feel any better now?” 

“A little, I think,” you say optimistically, though the way you sag against him tells a different story. 

Peter turns you in his arms, grabbing your water with one hand and supporting you with the other as he walks you back to your bedroom. Your nose wrinkles. 

“Do you smell that?” you ask.

“Nope.” Peter lowers you onto the bed, where you quickly curl up as a chill takes you.

“Good. I sort of…there was an unfortunate situation earlier. I didn’t quite make it to the toilet.” 

“Mm. Did you clean it up all by yourself?” 

“I’m not three,” you remind him. 

“I think being this sick gives you the right to act ten and under.” He strips out of his suit, throwing on pajamas so he can flop down next to you on the bed. He touches his cheek to yours. “You’re a furnace, baby. We can just stop paying the gas bill if you’re gonna be heating the place up like this.” 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, moving away from him. “You’re gonna get sick doing things like that.” 

“Don’t care.” He smooches the side of your nose. “Didn’t ask.” 

“You’re so sweet to me,” you snark, rolling over so he has to lift his face from yours. Your cheek rests on his bicep. You clutch the covers to your chin despite the heat radiating from you, and Peter brushes an errant strand of hair from your forehead. “You don’t want this, trust me.” 

He softens. “I can tell.” He smooths his thumb over your temple, relishing the way your eyelashes flutter as you try to keep your gaze on him. “I brought you some gatorade,” he says softly. “Do you wanna try and drink some of that for me, or do you need to rest first?” 

You hum, the sleepy sound its own answer. “I think I should wait a little bit.” 

“M’kay. We’ll get some crackers or something in you when you wake up, yeah?” You hum. He pauses. “I’m sorry you’re so sick, bub.” 

“Yeah,” you mumble, voice already stretched with sleep, “can’t believe you’d do this to me.” 

Peter cracks a smile, nudging your forehead with his nose. “Shut up, you know what I mean.” 

“It’s not so bad. Thanks for being with me.” 

“Where else would I be?” 

“Dunno,” you murmur, fading fast, “but thanks.” 

[thezombieprostitute]

Trick for a Treat

A/N: Written for @yenzys-lucky-charm and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork's Horny Hoes Hootenanny using the prompts:

🍁 "I'm gonna make you mine"

🍁 "Will you quit acting like I have the plague?"

🍁 fantasy/supernatural AU

🍁 praise

🍁 meeting a demon/ghost/witch on All Hallows Eve

Word Count: ~2.9k

Warnings: DARK FIC!! Coercion, Forced submission, Mind control, Noncon. Please let me know if I missed any!

The company Halloween party was in full swing and you were determined to enjoy yourself. You weren't really one for dressing up, but you wore some accessories and wanted to take part in some of the games. Really you were happy to get time out of your department, away from your boss and his attempts to win you over with his "so pathetic you have to love me" ploy. You'd tried to bring it up with HR, present your case, but it didn't get anywhere. Andy stayed just on the legal side of things so your only options were either find a different job or just endure.

You're enjoying some of the hot apple cider when you see him. Your smile drops and you move to another area of the building. He follows you, keeping you moving until he finally catches up, giving you nowhere to leave.

"Will you quit acting like I have the plague?" he gripes. "You don't have to keep running from me."

"Will you accept that I'm not interested in dating you?"

His face hardens, "why not? What have I ever done to turn you away?"

"You don't take 'no' for an answer. That should be reason enough!"

"Not when you can't tell me why you said 'no' in the first place," he growls.

"I don't owe you an explanation!"

His jaw tightens as he leans in far closer than you like, "I'm gonna make you mine. And you will love me for it."

You start to retort and push him away but then his eyes darkened. Literally, they turn black, causing you to freeze, oddly mesmerized by them. He smiles and you find yourself unable to turn away.

"I got a present for you," he whispers, his voice sounding almost otherworldly. He opens up a jewelry case and you see a cutesy, pink butterfly collar necklace. It's the sort of thing you would normally scoff at, especially after Andy's continuous comments about how you'd look so cute if you wore more pink. Instead you're frozen, unable to even blink, still mesmerized by his eyes.

He tells you to put the collar on and you can't help but comply. Internally you feel like you're trapped in a dream, limbs sluggish, voice not working. You clasp the necklace on and it's like you're frozen in place. You can't even struggle for control anymore, cut off from your own body.

Andy's eyes return to normal and he takes a minute to catch his breath. "You took up a lot of power, Butterfly, but I should've figured as much from you." He place a hand on your cheek, you're unable to stop him, to pull away, to do anything. He smiles smugly, "I knew I couldn't use that spell on you forever, so I worked out a little deal to get this necklace for you. It's already working better than expected." He gives you a small kiss on your lips. You want to vomit, smack him, protest in any way, but you can't.

He pulls away, "you're going to be a good girl for me from now on, right, Butterfly?"

"Yes, Master," you automatically respond.

"Good girl," he whispers in your ear and you let out a whine as you feel a jolt of pleasure in your core. He smiles cruelly, "did that make you wet?"

"Yes, Master," you reply, your voice strained.

"Perfect," he purrs. "Now go back to your desk, clock out for the day, and wait for me out front."

"Yes, Master." You're moving before you finished speaking. Seemingly every fiber of your being is determined to be obedient and make Andy happy. Your body is going through the motions while your brain keeps kicking and screaming, trying desperately to make it stop. You must be having some kind of effect given that tears are currently blurring your vision.

Stepping outside, you wait. Andy's car pulls up and he looks at you, expectantly, but you don't move. I was only ordered to wait, you realize. This whatever-the-hell-it-is has limits!

He's clearly realized this as well given that he opens the passenger door from his seat and motions for you to come into the car. Again, your body doesn't respond. You allow yourself a moment of smugness as you see his jaw tense in irritation. He calls for you to join him and your body finally moves as he wishes. At his command you buckle yourself up and he begins driving.

When you get onto the main road you hear the sound of Andy's zipper coming undone. You want to cringe, get away, but you remain motionless. He takes your hand and places it around his half hard member. "Be a good girl and stroke me until I come," he orders, causing your hand to start moving. You're glad you only have to look straight ahead, you don't want to witness yourself doing this.

He starts moaning, "feels so good. I knew you'd know how to treat a man." Your hatred for him is interrupted by his utterance of, "such a good girl." Just like last time, you feel a shock of pleasure, causing you to whimper, your body wanting more. "Squeeze tighter, Butterfly," he whispers. Your hand automatically goes a little tighter but you jump at an idea. He never said how much tighter to squeeze. You're able to get your body to listen and it keeps squeezing until Andy cries out.

"BAD GIRL!" he shouts.

Your body collapses on itself, mouth open in a silent scream. The pain is intense, the worst you've ever felt. It feels like you're being torn apart from the inside. It feels like an eternity passes before Andy puts a hand on the back of your neck, ceasing the pain.

"Have you learned your lesson?" His voice is dripping with anger.

"Yes, Master," you sob.

"Good. Now get back to stroking my cock like a good slut."

"Yes, Master." Your hand gets back to work, and he calms down as he enjoys your touch. You're certain his power over you is making him hard as opposed to your actual touch. His cock twitches and you feel the precum leaking.

"Be a good girl and suck me off," Andy growls. You don't even have time to get the "yes, master" out before taking his cock down your throat. "Holy shit," he breathes. "Should've known you'd be such a good slut for me. Fuck, you feel so good. Gonna have to pull over so I can enjoy this."

You barely notice the car pulling to a stop, distracted by your attempts to fight whatever spell your under. You thought you hated this man before, but now you feel an even deeper rage, accentuated by the taste of him in your mouth. Your anger intensifies as he strokes your hair and repeats, "good girl", making you whine with need and pleasure. He calls himself "daddy" in the midst of his praising and you wish you could vomit. You almost do when he pushes your head down as he comes. You can't breathe but your body wasn't ordered to do anything so you can't fight it and you end up passing out.

You wake up as the car pulls into a garage. Andy looks at you, smile on his face, "we're home Butterfly! Welcome to the rest of your life." He caresses your cheek, turning your face to him, "you're going to make me so happy, aren't you?"

"Yes, Master." Inside you are raging. You've been kidnapped, controlled, humiliated and you can still taste him in your mouth. You decide to lay low and keep an ear out for opportunities to break his spell, or whatever the hell is in this collar.

"Get inside and take off your clothes, leaving the jewelry on," he orders you. Clearly he's being careful with his words.

"Yes, Master." At the very least, once inside you can gather more intel on your options. You remove your clothes, leaving the collar in place, though some of the dangles almost get caught on your shirt.

"And make sure you fold up your clothes, nice and neat," you hear him say from behind you, still in the garage.

"Yes, Master."

Once your clothes are off and neatly folded, your body goes into standby mode again, waiting for the next command. Andy circles you several times. If you'd had any control you'd at leas try to cover yourself. Instead, he's getting to see everything. You itch to smack that smug smile off of his face.

"I can't believe you resisted me for so long," he coos. "I'm sorry it had to come to this, I genuinely tried to go about this the traditional way, but you fought me for so long, I had to go another route." He cups your face in his hands and moves you to look at him. "But we're together now and I promise to make you so happy you'll never want to leave me."

If you had the ability you'd scoff at him.

"Now, let's get you properly dressed up," he sighs as he gropes your breasts. "I have some more appropriate attire for you in the bedroom. Follow me."

"Yes, Master." Looking to test the limits of this magic, you think, I wasn't told I couldn't look around. Frustratingly, your eyes remained locked in place, staring at Andy's back. He didn't say how quickly to follow him, you try. You're rewarded by taking slower steps than you were before. I'm limited by what he says, but I clearly don't have to be told to do things like blink or breathe.

Inside the bedroom Andy moves you to the stand in front of the closet and tells you to stay. "I think you're going to like what I have for you," he grins. "It's nothing like what you normally wear, it's so much better." He opens the closet and you feel a fresh wave of hatred. It's full of dresses and skirts. All so much shorter than anything you'd ever wear voluntarily. "I know I've told you how beautiful you'd look in these kinds of clothes. Maybe once you see yourself, you'll believe me. Maybe even thank me for opening your eyes."

He grabs a pink cami dress with butterflies on it. "I think this will be a good match for you collar. Be a good girl and put it on."

"Yes, Master." The fabric feels soft in your hands. You already suspect it won't fit you properly, clearly designed for someone with a skinnier waist. Sure enough, you can feel some of the seams start ripping as you put it on. Again you let yourself take some joy in the frustration written all over Andy's face.

"Well, we'll definitely have to adjust your diet," he gripes. You feel another wave of rage at his words. You worked hard to be comfortable with your body. You're not about to let this asshole undo all of that because he thinks you should look differently. If you get the chance you'll happily leave scars on face. See how he likes being judged. He does a double take and you wonder if he can see the fire in your eyes. His face hardens again and he growls, "be a good girl and tell me what you'd like to wear."

"Whatever you'd like me to wear, Master." Of course that's why he'd ask. It's a reminder to you that he's in charge.

"Remember that," he glares at you. You're sure it's meant to intimidate, make you feel helpless, but you will never stop hating this man, this creature. He must see the defiance in your eyes because he straightens himself up and says, "bad girl."

This time, you're ready. It still hurts enough that your body collapses on the floor and your mouth opens in a silent scream again. Your body writhes in pain and flails about. He wants to say I'm a bad girl, so I'm going to be bad! Your hand reaches up to the collar and, before Andy realizes what's happening, you rip off one of the dangling gems. The pain is lessened and Andy starts shouting at you to stop, but you've got leverage now.

It takes everything you have to resist him. You don't ignore the pain, you use it to fuel the hatred that gives you strength. He grabs your hand to stop you from removing another gem and you bite his hand, causing him to let go. I'll show you how much of a bad girl I can be. You break off another gem and the pain eases even more. Using the energy from the sudden relief, you push yourself to fully remove the collar. Andy grabs your hands to stop you, hold you in place, but you're so close to freedom!

"You can still be a good girl," he comments. "I could be so good for you." You gather your strength and headbutt him, forcing him to let go, giving you the break you need to remove the damned collar. You lay there for a moment, relieved to no longer be hurting, reveling in Andy's complaints about you breaking his nose.

Your attempts to move are interrupted by someone clapping. Looking up you see what looks like a man with dark brown hair, blue eyes, a pronounced mustache with a good amount of stubble. He's wearing slacks with a button up shirt and tie. Andy looks at him and immediately starts trying to crawl away. You blink and the "man" is next to Andy, holding him up by his neck.

"Well, Andrew, it looks like you didn't keep your end of the deal."

"Please, Walker, I...she...it's..." Andy stops as the other man's knuckles go whiter. You can only imagine the force Andy's being choked with and you're enjoying it.

"Shhh," Walker shakes his head at Andy. "The deal was, I give you the tools you ask for, and break the spirit of the one who fed your hatred. The hatred that feeds me and my power. It would have been a glorious testament to your devotion to master your rage in such a manner. Yet, here we are." Without looking away from Andy, he points to you. "She's nowhere near broken. You didn't even have her controlled for a full day," he laughs. "If anything, she broke you."

Andy's face is a dark shade of red, you think his lips are turning blue, but you can't find yourself able to care. Suddenly he's dropped on his ass, gasping for breath. Walker snaps his fingers and Andy is bound in chains.

Walker turns to you and helps you stand up. He hums in delight as he looks you over. "So much rage. I'm genuinely impressed."

You sneer and back away from him. "You helped him," you snap. "You helped him hurt me!"

"I am a demon, my dear," he grins. "It's what I do. But clearly I chose the wrong mortal." He goes to grab your chin and you pull away, making him chuckle. "Such delicious energy," he comments as his eyes turn fiery. "Let me offer you a deal."

The room shifts and distorts until it looks like you're in an office. Walker takes a seat at his desk and motions for you to sit across from him. Warily you take a seat. You look at Andy who's still chained up and looking very scared and your nostrils flare.

"Mmmmm, such delicious energy," Walker comments. "Now, as for the deal, I'd like to offer you a couple of options. I'm normally not so generous, but you are certainly something special."

"You don't have anything I want," you spit.

He grins, "I have Andy. And I can give you control over his punishment for breaking my deal with him."

"I'm listening."

"Normally I would just offer you the option of being my acolyte. Letting your rage loose on the world in my name and feeding me power through that. But there's something about you that makes me want to give you another offer: Be my bride."

You scoff, "this is a lose-lose for me. Either way all I get is to hurt him while taking on a new 'master'. I'll pass."

"As my bride, you get to hurt him for eternity," Walker counters. "And not just him. All others who have done as he sought to do to you."

That gives you pause. "And if I only choose to be your acolyte?"

"Then you only get to hurt them for as long as they're alive," he explains. "But you will be given the means to hunt them down, trap them, and break them."

"But in both cases, I am bound to you. I appreciate the offer, the compliments, but I'll pass." You look over to Andrew, "I'm not interested in being bound to anyone."

The office disappears and you're back at Andy's house. Walker looks a little chagrined at the declined offer. He hands you a business card, "if you ever change your mind, let me know. In the meantime," he snaps his fingers and Andy is magically moved into a standing position. "I have some business to take care of."

You smile at Andy as tears form in his eyes. "Not quite the metamorphosis you were hoping for, is it?"

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[staraxiaa]

sunflowers, the afterword:

author's corner/first thoughts.

okay. so. i am insane. i am a god. i just wrote 18k words for a fic that i thought of, planned, and created fully in less than two days, bc someone said i like to make ppl suffer and yes i do. but then i was like, i am GOING to write fluff and i took it personally. to that one reader, thank you!! anyways. i wrote this with the intent of using the prompt "you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" and barely even ended up using it. i don't know whether to laugh or cry. i hope it doesn't flop but also it's okay if it does bc i literally spent almost 48 hours brainrotting and word vomiting like it's out of my brain now and this feels glorious. it was random unfiltered thoughts and grinding away at 3am until i am empty. no thoughts left in my head. can you see? i could eat the world raw, the itch has been scratched. the sheer amount of motivation i had w this fic is never happening again. cheers! will update as i think of things! sorry to anyone who ends up reading this fully. i have been unreasonably fixated and have brainrotted over this for two hours, inclusive of sleeptime. while sleeping. i kid you not. i would wake up and something would click and i would hop over to the laptop and fucking grind away i am so sick of myself

unwritten scenes, headcanons

you guys are 20. you haven't started dating yet. you're a doctor. you guys are yelling at each other. you say 'you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.' katsuki's so angry that he does. ⇁ this was the original ending btw but i thought this one kinda fit better he brings you sunflowers sometime. real ones. he's sneezing all the while. you take one look at him and you die of laughter. he's still sneezing. you tell him: you know i actually didn't even care about them until i found out you were allergic. ⇁ if i could write nsfw i would do it here like dude do u see the vision omfg a whole side plot where he's like what the fuck do you mean you weren't dating deku. you're like. what the fuck. are u stupid. someplace where you actually address how you treat midoriya, his lack of a quirk, and how you stood by and watched it all happen ua sports festival. you kick everyone's ass. #you have been trained by eraserhead and you are super duper cool i also don't remember if i included this, but: your mother asks you after the first evening. "you're not really friends are you." you say: "nope!" and it is the happiest she has ever seen you. the ua boys try to flirt with you and get hurt really stupidly a lot on purpose. you wonder why they've stopped showing up. it's bc katsuki gives them a whole earful. and you're like bitch what the fuck im a doctor and and hes just tsundere about it first kiss scene instead of the ending where he's like you care and you're like of course i do??? what the fuck?? are u stupid?? you guys start yelling at each other and you're both acting like ur 2. he calls you stupid and blind. you call him ugly. he's so mad he literally just lurches forward and kisses you. it's awkward and messy and you guys are so mad at each other. you literally headbutt him in the face. ah young love. ⇁ this was another alternative ending more exploration behind reader's character, her insecurities, and about some of the stuff i info dumped before the start of the katsuki povs? i feel like i didn't handle that as well as i could have, but i also didn't want to go on 10 billion tangents for things that had very little relevance to the story. i also think the transition to the last scene was a little abrupt, but tbh at that point i was just so ready to call it like. i just didn't see the point. i think it would have made for a more natural reading experience, so here's the tea: he's proud of u but u guys are angsty and ignore each other until after training camp. [more brainrot pining moments]. if i had to write the above scene, i think i'd do something along the lines of: you're first aid relief at the sports festival, not actively participating. dunno if you'd be nearly as badass, though. you definitely get pissed when they muzzle katsuki and probably get rly mad but ofc u cant show it. so u just unmuzzle him and walk away and hes staring after u. this is ur ??? elsa arc? i dont remember the disney princess. the training camp is torture. aizawa makes u run with them. you tell him straight up that u hate his guts. he grins like that is the best thing anyone has told him in his life. katsuki definitely blows up some earth monsters for u. but while ur not looking. he's angsty like that. the bath scene? oh lord u just know he blows mineta up. maybe he lowk fucks it up too and you have to heal it! the potential HAHAHA. i dont know how you end up getting kidnapped, but id probably just bullshit a reason like ur the #1 healer in the world hurr durr and afo wants u! idgaf if the plot makes sense or not this is entirely secondary to my scheming. katsuki just about loses it when he hears you're one of the targets -> how you get kidnapped? idk. you're not a remedial student, so you're probably participating in the game (odd number of ppl right). unsure of how i'd handle the news of your kidnapping: just know katsuki loses it again. for like the 5th time. yipppeeeeee

character notes, thoughts

your quirk is literally just you take people's injuries into your own body and heal it yourself. you're superhuman. i put 2 thoughts into this: 1) you're a healer and 2) i like cool characters. congratulations. you have now been born. i don't even remember if i kept the shouto scene. but anyways i think my bias was showing. just had to throw him in there. also the kuroo mention. sorry i'm totally normal and i mean it ⇁ btw i love you all (everyone who likes/interacts with my fics) but i joke to my friends everytime someone interacts w my first bakugo/midoriya ones from lacuna bc guys!!! my shoto fic is RIGHT THERE!!! the baby that launched the entire collection. please show him some love this reader is probably one of the favorite ones i have written, more of an oc at this point i think, and i wasn't expecting her to grow on me so much. but lowk i love her and am so proud of the way i wrote her growth!! i do feel like i wrote her very soft, but i hope her flaws were made very clear⏤ she is meant to be a sort of unreliable narrator, so she also is overly critical of her own, but there were several things that were not addressed as i was writing, particularly concerning midoriya. (quirk, the bullying, bystander's guilt.) however, i think that including them would have made me go off on a tangent, and detract more from the main point of the story i also do think i wrote katsuki a little ooc, if only because i didn't see the point of including what's already there in canon. sorry. my brainrot did not extend that far, and by the end of this, i was literally ready to drop. his perspective isn't meant to be all-encompassing (in the story, it may seem like it purely bc of how i paced it) but those are meant to be like. random thoughts that appear in several scenes. reader does not have bakugo living rent free in her head 24/7, and neither does he. they're just stupid and pining and i just wrote all the moments in my head where they do.

[heaven4lostgirls]

Serene living

pairing: Barty crouch jr x gn!reader

word count: 1.2k summary: Barty Crouch Jr loves his girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N loves their boyfriend and after a little conversation Barty gets a little jealous.

a/n: this wasn't requested but I miss writing so this just came to mind as I was listening to music

Barty usually spent the better part of his day slacking off, he would convince Evan to spend their time pranking the first years around them whilst you, Regulus and Pandora spent your time near the black lake talking and reading in peaceful serenity. This was often interrupted by your significant others raucous laughter and him and Evans thudding footsteps. You meet Regulus’ bored expression and Pandora’s dreamlike giggle, and you roll your eyes playfully as your feel Barty fall down next to you and throw his arm around you.

You shove him playfully and whine as he pulls the book you planned on reading out of your hands. “I’m trying to read Barty” your groan only fuels his playful expression as he stands up and starts reading your passage out loud in a dramatic fashion. “His eyes darkened at her lustful gaze- woah what the fuck is this” he cried as he skipped through the pages trying to read your obviously very…fruitful choice of novel.

Your cheeks warm as Regulus quirks a brow over his own copy of what you know to be a well known queer romance with some very descriptive passages. You whine and make your way to stand as Barty continues to parade your novel around the tree you all had been leant against. Barty starts a small jog around everyone in hopes of you not catching up to him and your annoyance turns fond at his sparkling eyes and melodramatic tone as he continues to retell the characters sexual endeavours.

“Wait, how the bloody hell did they get into that position? Love, your book is very confusing” he complains as Evan snorts into his hand at Barty’s inability to understand. You manage to grab the novel from his hand and scowl at him, his playful gaze meets yours and when he sees your little scowl, he makes it his mission to make you laugh instead. He begins to quickly pepper kisses all over your face in hopes of hearing your laughter and he is once again successful in his plan as your melodic giggles fill the air. You can feel the smile on his face as he places small kisses on your neck.

“You two are so cute” Pandora’s sweet voice pulls you both out of your moment as you smile over Barty’s shoulder. “Vomit inducing more like” you hear Dorcas say as she places her school bags on the grass as she lays down. “Thanks Dora, why so salty Cas? Marlene ignores you in class or something” Barty teases and Dorcas throws up her middle finger as she covers her eyes from the bright sun. You laugh as you pull Barty down to sit next to Regulus as you make your way in between in his legs and lean back into him.

“I’ll have you know I had double potions with Slughorn before this break” you all simultaneously wince or negatively react at her statement, Slughorn’s lectures could go on for ages and all of you were accustomed to the few students who had fortunately fallen asleep and not been caught. You sigh happily and snuggle into Barty’s soft wool jumper as you hear Pandora talking to Evan and Doracs about the new crystals she had found in the woods while looking for Wrackspurts.

 You hear Barty hum as his hands play with your fingers before he leans down closer to your ears in order to mumble a question to you “You want to take a nap in the dorm love?” and you mindlessly hum as you think about it, shaking your head you look up at him. “No, I quite like it here, are you tired?” you question him softly and he shakes his head softly as he pecks your forehead. You both tune into the current conversation that’s being had, something about James Potters good looks coming from Regulus and Evans disagreement, he’s more into Sirius to Regulus’ disgust whilst Dorcas thinks Remus is the more attractive Marauder whilst Pandora shyly expresses, she prefers Peter.

They all turn to the both of you with deadly serious expressions that you’re almost scared to find out what they’re about to ask you. “Who’s the most attractive out of the Marauders?” Its Evan that poses the question to which you scrunch your face in an animated thinking expression. Barty answers with zero hesitance “Remus.” He says confidently and you raise your brow at him “You’ve thought about this” you accuse him, and he shrugs with a shit-eating grin on his face. “What? Am I not allowed to recognise the beauty that is Remus bloody Lupin?” he defends, and you shake your head at him.

“James.” You shrug and Regulus meets your eyes with a smirk full well knowing that you both had this conversation before you and Barty had started dating after a couple drinks at a Slytherin party. Barty’s hands tighten around you, and you look up to see his face in a scowl. “What? Can’t handle Y/N having other peoples attention?” Regulus smirks at him in teasing and Barty huffs petulantly. “Why’d you say that” he whines as he pouts down at you. Your laughter makes his scowl deepen further. “So, it’s okay for you to admire Remus’ beauty but I can’t say I find James Potter fit?” you laugh at his pettiness, and he rolls his eyes. “That! Was very different” he points out and you cackle harder.

“Calm down Bartemius, nobody is stealing from your psycho ass.” Evan snorts and you start wheezing as Barty puffs his chest out in what you assume is supposed to be pride “damn right.” He says as he pulls you closer to him. You both often were never found far from one another, Barty was always someone who showed his affection through touch and normally whenever you were in his vicinity he often found his body seeking you out, always having an arm around your waist or your hands interlocked as you both took notes in class.

As you calm down from your laughing fit and the conversation shifts onto something else you see the Marauders make their way towards the black lake as well and without thinking you lift your hand and shout across the grounds. “Alright Potter?” you grin and as he turns around to look for you he smiles and waves at you “Yeah and you?” you laugh loudly as you basically feel Barty’s heated glare “Alright thanks” he nods and makes his way to where Sirius, Remus and Peter are waiting for him. Once he turns back around the group bursts into laughter as Barty scowls at all of you.

[reidslovely]

She’s Having My Baby (Maybe) Pt. 2

Content Warnings: Mention of pregnancy..duh, throwing up, overall pretty fluffy 

Pairing: Frat! Peter Parker

You ask and I deliver. The pregnancy tests are back and they are....

Please instead of liking/hearting this post leave a reblog and/or comment 

Everything around Peter began to blur slightly as the words fell out of his mouth and the vomit crept back up your throat. You stared at him, tears starting to fall down your cheeks as you swallowed roughly.

“Positive? You..you’re sure.”

“All three…positive.” He confirms looking in the sink and back at you, his hands placed firmly on the sink. “Oh baby, oh baby no don’t cry.”

He’s rushing over to you hands taking your cheeks in both hands, fingertips brushing tears off your cheeks. “Shh..talk to me. Look at me bashful please.” Peter’s touch could always settle you. It was some weird phenomenon that you both discovered a week into sleeping together.

“Where’s ya head hmp? Are these happy or sad tears?”

“Happy…scared. But, happy.” You manage your words out. His ears tingled hearing your heartbeat going back and forth between patterns. “Oh my god what if it comes out with eight legs and four eyes.”

Peter held back a laugh at the pure panic of the thought and nodded. Going through his mental scripts of possible responses before shaking his head.

“I have nothing to say that could possibly make you feel better about that possibility.”

“Oh god.” Peter hugged you tightly, knowing the possibility was slim to none. “I got you.” He was swaying in spot smiling to himself kissing your temple. “We gotta tell May.”

-

To say the days that passed in a weird blur was an understatement, most of your time was spent with Peter. Getting lunch, making doctors appointments, him walking you to and from class. Peter was the most clingy you’d ever seen him. You thought your hormones were only supposed to bother you but it was like Peter’s own senses and sensitivity increased by twenty percent. Which you saw in full when telling May the good news.

“You guys both have class today. What are you two doing here?”

May asked putting her bag down as she came in still dressed in her scrubs. Peter smiled, letting go of your hand patting the spot next to him for May to sit. “What’s going on? I’m nervous”

“We just had something to tell you and we both wanted to be here to do it.”

May’s brow furrowed, her hand searching your hand for a ring before clapping her hand over her mouth. You smiled nudging Peter letting him know the time is now.

“We’re gonna have a baby..she’s pregnant.” Peter says after your encouragement. Tears rolling down his cheeks, it was the first time he had said it out loud. Peter wiped his eyes trying to laugh it off breathing out a small ‘fuck’

“I’m gonna be a grandma.” May says her lips are quivering. “I should be mad..I gave you the safe sex talk but I can't because I’m gonna be a grandma.” May’s voice cracked with joy pulling her nephew..her son into a bone crushing hug. Peter’s joyful sobs could be heard in the hug. You laughed with your hand resting on your stomach.

“How far along are you?” May asked to move over to you holding you in a hug. “That's a Peter question, he did the math to the exact.” You laughed leaning your head on May’s shoulder.

“Three weeks and five days almost a month” Peter smiles sitting on the other side of you.

You and May laughed at the three of you sitting in a hug.

-

The frat brothers were starting to catch on that something was off. Harry especially. He’d passed Peter's room multiple times, the two of you laughing, your shirt pushed up over your stomach Peter’s attention clung to it like he was waiting for something to happen. He’d been pestering Miles, Peter’s freshie, to see if he had spilled any information to him. But he hadn’t, which lead to Harry cornering Peter himself.

“You guys okay? You’re acting weird.” Harry asked Pete one night outside of a party. He had noticed how you hadn’t had a single drink and how Peter had his arm placed around your waist territorially.

Peter took a long drag of the cigarette passing it back to Harry. His lips fought the smile but his joy betrayed him. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”

“I hate you, fucking tell me,” Harry whined holding his hands out dramatically to his friend. You stood in the doorway laughing, walking towards Peter. “Just tell him Pete, he’s a uncle he has to be prepared.”

“What?” Harry stated looking between the two of you confused before his eyes widening. “I fucking knew it..”

“No you didn’t” Peter laughs as he and his best friend trade a hug. Harry engulfed you in a hug, picking you up slightly in the hug. “Easy, don't jar the baby.”

“You guys are having a baby?”

Miles yelled out as he walked out the back patio. Peter laughed and tilted his head back over his shoulder. “Come on, join the celebration.”

“You know now that he knows the whole frat is going to find out by the morning.”Harry teases the freshie leaning his arm on Miles' shoulder who awkwardly laughs.

“I know..” Peter laughed, his hand resting on your waist, thumb stroking your hip.

“You worried about a…”

“Superhuman pregnancy? Absolutely I’m not sure how we are gonna play it off. I’m waiting to hear the heartbeat any day now.”

“You guys have been hooking up forever I’m sure you can pass her off as further along.”

You nodded, resting your head against Peter’s shoulder closing your eyes as he practically held you up. “I’m gonna get these two to bed and I’ll be back down.” Peter says putting his beer down and turning you around.

-

As Peter helped you change and got you into bed you smiled peppering his face with kisses any chance you could. “Pregnancy has made you so clingy, bashful.” Peter teases laying next to you hand rubbing small circles on your stomach.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You laugh laying on his other arm turning to look at him. You open your mouth to talk but Peter shushes you, hand from your stomach clapping over your mouth. “I hear it” He says excitedly. “I can hear it, it's small but…it’s there.”

“The heartbeat?” You ask as he presses his ear to your stomach. You felt jealous that Peter could hear it, this one moment you cursed that you weren’t bitten by a radioactive spider as a teenager. You’d have to wait a couple weeks till your next appointment before you could hear it.

“I need you to tell me if you’re a boy or girl.”

“They can’t hear you yet!”

“She has a heartbeat at only three weeks who's to say she doesn’t have ears by now.” Peter says kissing you and your stomach excitedly. “I gotta go tell Harry and Miles.” He says flinging himself out of bed and running out of the room.

-

It took a month before the whole frat and your friends found out. Miles did his best to keep it in for as long as he could but he and Harry had gone in together on the first baby present and instead of getting it shipped to May’s like they had planned Miles kept the delivery address as the frat house and when the baby carrier showed up on the doorstep he had outed the secret to Joey and James, who then proceeded to tell the other brothers. The word spread around your friend group so fast that you and Peter couldn’t even stop it before getting greeted with hugs and congratulations. M.J. and Betty calling you immediately to verify the information.

Which made walking into the common room of frat and everyone sitting around less awkward coming back from your doctor's appointment. “This is not a baby shower.” James says, putting his hands out. “But we wouldn't do something nice for our friends and our newest little brother.”

“Or sister.” Harry says. Peter smiled looking at you, his face pressing into your hair. Tears were already building in your eyes as you tried to blink them away.

“So come sit, the chair is for bashful.” Harry laughs standing up. “Sorry Parker you're standing.”

Your hand rubbed over your bump already poking out a bit. You were big for about two months along and everyone couldn’t help but to comment on it but it wasn’t too big of an issue for people to be speculating.

“What is this?”

“Some necessities. You got a stroller.” James says pointing to the black stroller. “We tested it in store made sure it was safe.” You laughed and looked at Peter imagining what these ten or more frat boys looked like in the baby sections of the store testing a stroller.

“But open this one first.” Harry pleads, placing a small bag in your lap.

You furrowed your brow and reached in the bag pulling out a dark red onesie with the Theta Tau letters on it and all your friends' names scribbled on to the onesie with a message. “Oh my god.”

“I fucking love this.” Peter says placing it on your bump. “Oh she’s so wearing this home from the hospital.” You smiled at how Peter always referred to the baby as she, he wanted a daughter so bad. You think back on him referring to himself as a girl dad when you first told him about the possibility and your heart swells.

“I don’t even want her to wear it, I just wanna frame it cause it's so precious.”

“Oh she's so wearing this to game days, parties, everything.” Peter laughed, folding the onesie and putting it in the bag.

“Let's open the rest of these, yeah? We spent most of our monthly money in the baby section if the boards  ask if it was for a social event.” James whispers, pushing the next book towards you.

-

You stood in Peter’s room at the frat house looking at the massive bump as you stood in a pink dres as Peter labeled a few boxes that needed to be moved back to May’s. “I’m huge.” You sigh turning to Peter with a pout.

“No you’re pregnant and don’t forget you're so sexy.” Peter says standing up kissing your cheek, his hands resting on the bump rubbing slowly. “Get me all types of worked up looking at ya’.”

“You’re right. I’m still hot.” You smiled leaning against him to kiss him. “She is going crazy today.”

“I know I hear her moving around in there.” He says pushing a few boxes against the wall.

“Stop, no you can’t.” You say hand on your stomach as you start to walk down the stairs. Peter fixing the buttons on the pink button up.

“I absolutely can. She’s got a real future as a swimmer.”

You couldn’t help but cackle, grabbing his arm walking down the steps towards the party. You hear your friends filming the ‘Hi I’m so and so and I think your gender is…’ and you laugh at some of their statements. “Are your parents gonna FaceTime during the reveal?” Peter asks, sitting you down on his lap in a pink lawn chair. You nod holding his hand on your bump resting your head against his.

“And these are your parents.” Miles says panning the camera over to them.

“And we think you’re a girl.” You smile. “But Miles already knows and he’s been so good that I couldn’t even get it out of him.” You hummed, and Peter nodded knowing how hard you tried.

Mingling while nearly eight months pregnant is extremely hard. Your feet hurt, you’re tired, and all you really wanna do is sit down in comfy clothes and watch TV. But being with your people and Peter helped. Everyone was so sweet and they weren’t always trying to have their hands on you. May was supportive keeping you hydrated and entertained when you weren’t feeling up to walking around and talking.

“He is so excited..you both are.” May laughs looking around. “It’s nice to see everyone coming together for you guys. I was worried Peter would never have this type of connection with people..I’m glad I met you.” May takes your hand squeezing.

“May I’m hormonal, you're gonna make me cry.” You say fanning your face. You kissed her hand and hugged her.

“Okay everybody, time for the moment we’ve all been waiting for!” Harry announces standing on the table getting everyone's attention.

“If Miles and I could have mommy and daddy over here please behind the chemistry table thank you very much.” He says jumping down resting his arm on M.J.’s shoulder.

Peter took your hand walking you behind the chemistry table smiling at the set up in front of him clapping his hands excitedly. “So Peter and our girl here are going to mix these three combinations. Two will turn green and one will turn pink or blue to show the gender.” Miles explains. Peter puts on his safety goggles and helps you with your glasses smiling.

“You’re loving this aren’t you?”

“Absolutely I am.” He whispers, kissing your head as you both work together mixing the (Non-harmful) chemicals to get reactions.

After mixing you two stepped back taking your glasses off watching the mixtures bubble and foam the first two turning green and the last one taking its time. Foaming over into a light pink color settling into a dark pink liquid.

“It’s a girl! I knew it..I fuckin’ knew it.” Peter yells, hugging you with excitement evident in his tone. You knew he’d be excited no matter what but this was a whole new level. You jump up and down hugging each other. May and your main group of friends flooding you both with hugs. You knew your baby was coming into an amazing and supportive family.

-

The spring semester had ended and you and Peter moved back into May’s attic which Peter had worked hard to turn into a bedroom and half nursery. It looked beautiful but Peter had also turned his old bedroom into a full nursery after May insisted it would be best for when the baby was a little bigger and she could help out. He was so excited and anxiously awaiting that anyday know his little girl could be here. You didn’t lift a finger: Peter made dinner, carried you up the stairs to bed at night, basically bathed you..everything you needed done Peter did for you.

Which is why him working late with Octavious tonight was stressful and anxiety filling for you. May had came home earlier but she was sound asleep in her recliner, and you’d really hate to bother her for a drink and snack. In the dark light of the living room you stood up, trying to gain your balance. Waddling into the kitchen you grabbed a green tea from the fridge and a small bag of chips from the bowl.

“Oh fuck.” You gasped breathlessly, a shooting pain in your lower left side. You grabbed the counter and took a deep breath and started timing it in your head. You started your walk back to the living room before water gushed out from between your legs. “May..May!” You whisper yelled looking at her already sitting up.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, sit here.”

She says watching your panicked face sitting you down she rushed to the hall bathroom grabbing a towel dropping it over the puddle. Already having the house phone between her shoulder holding your hand.

-

Hair on the back of Peter’s neck stood up and he was bolting for the door yelling out apologies to Otto before his phone even rang. He was about a block down from the lab trying to get a lab when May called.

“I know I know I’m on my way.” He says. “It’s the…spider sense that alerted me. They’ve been so heightened lately I don’t know how I can feel it so far away.” He stomps his foot in frustration running down an alleyway looking for a good spot to start swinging.

“It’s called fatherly intuition Peter, sometimes you just know. Not everything is Spider-Man related.” May says rubbing your hand breathing with you.

“Her go bag is in the hall closet. I'm three minutes out, maybe four.” He yells from a rooftop hanging up and starting to head that way.

“I’m not letting him swing me to the hospital.” You say softly laying your head back.

May laughs “I’m calling Dr. Alvarez everything is fine. I’m gonna put your bag in the car and we’ll be there in no time.”

You weren’t sure if everything was moving at 2x speed but it felt like Peter was there in no time. Carrying you to the car and sitting in the backseat with you. “She’s coming.” He says excitedly kissing your temple. “Of course she’d pick today.” He laughs nervously.

“She’s already giving you a hard time.” You joked looking at him grabbing his hand as another contraction started.

“Just like you.”

-

Six hours later you sat exhausted in the hospital bed holding your newborn daughter, Peter crouched over you head against your sweaty head. “Oh look at her.”

“She’s already got your face.” You laugh. “I think I can’t really tell. All babies look the same sometimes.”

Peter laughed, kissing your cheek, nodding. “They really do but she's got my nose and lips for sure. She’s got your hair.”

“I love her.” You say kissing her head. “And I love you Parker.”

“I love you bashful.” Peter says kissing your lips quickly, before leaning down and kissing the little girl's head, her legs kicking in response. You smiled, handing her off to Peter watching him rock her slowly resting her on his chest. You fixed your hospital gown and thanked whatever made you walk into that frat party two years ago.

This came out waaaay longer than I expected it too but once I got started I couldn’t stop. Hope this is what you guys wanted, it’s not proof read at all because I was so excited to post it. 

Taglist: @helloheyhihowdyheya​ @sincericida​ @a-lumos-in-the-nox​ @moonyslove78​ @messymissy​ @adhdhufflepuff​ @toomanyfictionalboyfriends​ @ateliefloresdaprimavera​ @eevylynn​

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Promises

written for @steddiemicrofic

prompt: one || wc: 1,111 || rating: T || cws: hurt/no comfort, cheating, custody and divorce, panic attacks, child tantrum

Thanks to the lovely @carolperkinsexgirlfriend for the edits!

“Max, go get your stuff.” Steve’s voice comes out sterner than he means to, but he’s exhausted after a long day of running errands. He doesn’t want to stand in the middle of his ex’s entryway and try to explain to their ten year old why her weekend with Daddy is over.

“But Dad,” she whines, “why can’t I stay overnight at Daddy’s again?”

“No, Max, ok? I’m sorry, but you have school and you still have homework to do. Now can you please go pack up? Auntie Robin is in the car waiting for us.”

She grumbles, holding back tears. “Why can’t I stay here? I want to live here and sleep here and Daddy can take me to school. Dad, I promise I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, stepping into the living room with Max’s bag over his shoulder. He squats down in front of her. A bittersweet smile wobbles underneath his scrunched up nose, and Steve can tell he’s barely keeping it together. “We don’t want to keep Dad waiting, alright? He’s tired, just like you, and you’ll both sleep better in your own beds, right?”

Max throws her small arms around Eddie’s neck and buries her tear-stained cheeks into his messy hair. He squeezes her tight, and Steve sees his body heave with a shake that Eddie tries to pass off as a sigh.

Steve’s resolve starts to crumble. He turns his back on the scene, pretending he can’t hear their quiet declarations of love and promises of next time. Pretends he doesn’t know Eddie’s looking up at him, silently pleading for forgiveness. A look filled with all the empty words Steve’s heard before.

“I miss you,” Max cries “I want you to come home.” A tear slips down Steve’s cheek and he quickly wipes it away.

“I miss you too, Honey.” Eddie chokes around another sob. “But Daddy’s going to stay here for a while, ok? I know it’s hard but everything’s gonna be alright, I promise.”

Steve coughs, hopelessly trying to dislodge the lump clogged in his throat. Except Eddie takes it as a cue of impatience. He doesn’t say anything though, just stands and guides her to the door where Steve’s still pretending not to notice.

“Come on Max, let’s go home.” 

“No.” Max says, voice hard with conviction. “I’m not going home with you. I’m staying here with Daddy. Forever.”

“Max,” Steve responds, trying to match her tone, “I’m done arguing about this, we need to leave.”

“Why is Daddy even staying here?” Her face and neck are painted with angry red splotches, and Steve can spot a tantrum bubbling up. Normally, gentle understanding and praise calms her down. But how can he even begin to answer her? How does he explain to her that her Daddy hurt him beyond repair? 

The only consolation Steve got on the worst day of his life was that Max wasn’t home to watch her Daddy stumble in through the front door sobbing at nine in the morning, reeking of booze, stale cigarettes and strange lavender perfume. At least she didn’t have to listen to Eddie’s desperate apologies between bouts of vomiting, or Steve screaming at him to get out while he threw Eddie’s acoustic down the stairs.

Steve loves his little girl, so of course he won’t tell her the truth. He’ll even lie to her, no matter the consequences, to make sure nothing taints her relationship with Eddie. He’s always been an amazing father, and what happened doesn’t change that.

She starts shouting again. “He should live at home with us! Why don’t you let him come home, please? Dad, I swear I’ll do anything you want!” 

Thankfully she’s facing Steve, because he looks past her at Eddie, who’s soaking his sleeves in tears. Steve’s watched Eddie cry more in the past three months than he has their entire marriage.

“No, honey, please let’s just talk–”

“No, I hate you! I hate you! I wish I lived here with Daddy instead of you!”

She quickly turns around, snatching up her pack from the floor where Eddie had placed it. Steve’s head rings with the violent slam of the door closing behind her. His mind’s filled with static, and he wonders how his life came to this.

Since he kicked Eddie out, Steve’s constantly reminding himself that he made the right decision. He’s been cheated on in almost all of his relationships, and he always gave them a second chance. Everything would go back to normal for a while before the relationship eventually soured, leaving him devastated. 

He refuses to keep giving people who hurt him another chance.

If they really loved him, they wouldn’t have hurt him. If Eddie really loved him, he wouldn’t have been tempted.

Eddie vowed to love Steve, and only Steve. Forever.

A lie. Another broken promise.

But now her words leave Steve cut open and bleeding out in the middle of his ex's new apartment. He collapses under the weight of it all, knees buckling to the floor. As the panic sets in, he’s wrapped up in a warm embrace, ringed fingers combing through his hair and soft shushes in his ear. 

They fall into routine. Eddie tells him when to inhale and exhale, a hand gliding up and down his back. Steve climbs further into his lap, seeking an old comfort he’s yet to replace.

“Angel, you know she didn’t mean it.” He tries so hard to whisper, but Eddie’s voice cracks around the nickname and there’s tears on the back of Steve’s neck. “We’re not our parents. Even if– though. Even though we aren’t together, we’ll still love and support her no matter what. You’re the best dad, Angel, I promise.”

Steve catches the golden shine of Eddie’s wedding band as it passes across his forehead. The image of his own matching silver band stuffed in the back of his nightstand makes him feel sick.

“You’ve always been good to us,” Eddie continues. “We’re so lucky to have you. We– she loves you so much, Angel.”

He wonders if tonight, like every night, he’ll slip the ring as he lays in bed. Or if he’ll be able to fall asleep without dusting his pillow with a small puff of Eddie’s cologne. 

Steve misses him– misses them. They’re supposed to be a family.

Nuzzling his nose into Eddie’s neck, he inhales deep and greedy until the lightheadedness leaves him tingling. Shaky lips press against the top of Steve’s head on a ragged exhale, as the soothing hand in his hair tightens, holds him in place. 

Steve cries and wonders if he could survive one more second chance.

[mattmurdocksscars]

Best Friend Blues

Hi guys! Have my word vomit from today lmao I spat this out over a couple of hours at work and I'm kind of happy with it? So, I hope you enjoy! It starts out angsty and ends happily.

Word Count: 3323

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Your best friend was getting married. You should be happy. Elated, even. And instead, you're crying into a bowl of ice cream and doing your best not to think about it. 

Your best friend was getting married and you couldn't be sadder. 

You knew this would happen eventually. That he would find someone and fall in love with them and you would be left to pick up the pieces of your heart. 

You see, you've been in love with your best friend for years. You were always afraid to say anything for fear of losing him. But now it was too late. Far too late. The wedding was in two days. Tomorrow you would have to go to the reception and put your fake smile on and pretend to be happy. But for tonight you were allowing yourself a moment of weakness.

You should have known better.

There was a light tapping at your window and you jumped at the sound. Horrified, you looked to the window to see Matt standing outside of it with a frown on his face. You quickly set the bowl down on your coffee table, wiped your face, and ran to open the window. 

“What are you doing out here?!” You hissed, leaning through the window to look him over. 

“Will you let me in? Please? We need to talk.” Your heart sunk at his words but you backed away and let him fold himself into your living room. It was silent as he turned and closed the window behind him, staying with his back facing you. You took the silence for a few minutes before you couldn't take it anymore.

“Matt, what is-”

“Did you really think I wouldn't notice?” Your heart stopped before resuming at double time. Still, you tried for nonchalance.

“Notice what? What is going on, Matt? Shouldn't you be at home with Veronica?” Matt stiffens then growls and rounds on you. He steps til he's practically towering over you.

“That. That is what I'm talking about. You keep pushing me away anytime I try to spend time with you. So you tell me. What is going on?” You flinch at his words and open your mouth to reply but no words come out. Which is apparently fine because Matt keeps talking. 

“For the last week, every time I pass by your apartment you're either crying or have just finished crying. You're pushing me and the others away. Please. Just tell me what is going on with you. We're all worried and I just want to help you.” He says your name as a plea and it just breaks your heart all over again. Because the way he speaks makes it sound like maybe he could love you too and you know that's not true. You harden your heart and cross your arms over your chest.

“I just don't want to talk about it. I'm fine, Matt. Really.”

He pulls his mask from his head and lets his gaze settle in your direction. His face is desperate and you hate that you've caused him distress.

“Don't. Don't do this to me. You're not fine, I know you aren't. Even if I couldn't tell you were lying to me, I would know that wasn't true. Please, just let me help you.”

Hysterical laughter bubbled up out of you at his words and confusion passed over his face.

“You can't help me, Matt. Not this time.” 

“Why not? What is so wrong that you won't even consider letting me help you?”

You don't even get a chance to consider it, the words just slip out.

“I love you, Matt.” A sound of frustration slips out of his lips.

“I love you too. Now will you please let me help you?”

“You aren't understanding me, Matt. I love you. I'm in love with you. You are my favorite what if.” Matt is speechless in front of you, shock written all over his face. You continue on.

“I have been in love with you since college. But I've always been too scared to say anything for fear of losing you. You wanna know why I'm crying? That's why!”

“Why- why are you telling me this now?”

“Because you asked and I am weak when it comes to you.”

“I'm getting married in two days! What do you want me to do? Cancel on Veronica on her wedding day?”

“Veronica doesn't even know you're Daredevil! How long do you think that relationship, that marriage, is going to last when you can't even be your true self with her!”

“It's my choice not to tell her!”

“Yeah, because you know she'll leave if you do! She doesn't love you, Matt. She loves the carefully curated person you've presented her.” Matt steps back, looking like you slapped him.

“That's not true.”

“It is, and you know it! Veronica is not who you think she is either. Some of the things she's said when we've been out have rubbed me the wrong way.” Matt scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Really? You're going to resort to this?”

“It's true. She talked about making you stop working with Foggy and start working at a big name firm so you could make money. She doesn't understand why you work for the ‘rifraff’ of Hell's Kitchen.” 

“Why would she tell you this and not me?”

“You don't have to believe me, but ask Karen. She heard it too. We both didn't say anything at the time because you seemed really happy with her and because we knew she wouldn't succeed.”

“This is unbelievable. You're supposed to be happy for me!”

“I tried! I really did try! Why do you think I never said anything?!”

“You never should have said anything!”

“You asked!! And I can't exactly lie to you so what did you want me to do?”

“I can't believe this. I can't believe you.” Matt pulled his mask back on and turned towards the window. Fear immediately creeped up your throat and you reached for him.

“Matt, wait-”

“Don't touch me!” You recoiled instantly and your heart shattered. You watched as he climbed out your window and paused outside of it. It looked like he wanted to say something but instead, after a moment, he disappeared. 

Surrounded by the broken pieces of your heart, you fell to your knees and sobbed.

~

Your phone's obnoxious vibrating woke you from your deep slumber. It took a minute to find it and answer it, not even looking at the caller ID.

“‘Lo?” Your voice was hoarse and sounded scratchy and you winced as the events of the night before came rushing back to you. You teared up at the memories but forced them back as the person on the other line started talking.

“Wow, you sound awful! Is that why you aren't here yet?” It was Foggy's cheerful voice on the other end of the line and you were instantly confused. Foggy was obviously referring to the lunch everyone in the bridal and groom party was supposed to be meeting at today but surely after last night, Matt didn't want you there.

“I, uh, don't think it's a good idea for me to come. Matt probably doesn't want me there.”

“What are you talking about, silly goose? Matt's the one who asked me to call you.” Your eyes widened and you froze, at a loss for words. Foggy picked up on it immediately and you heard the background noise dim as he walked away from the others.

“Are you okay? Matt's been kind of weird all day and now you're acting weird. Did something happen between you two? Is everything okay?”

“I- no, Foggy, everything is not okay.” You felt tears start to fall again and sniffled, trying to get yourself together. “We got into a fight last night. Like the worst we've ever had and I- I screwed up, okay?” 

“Hey, hey, it's okay. Whatever you did can't be that bad if he's still asking about you. You wanna tell me what happened?” You hesitated before slowly telling him about the fight from the night before. He was silent the whole time and for a good few minutes afterwards. You winced when he didn't say anything. 

“See? I told you. I screwed everything up and I don't even know why he wants me there.”

“Because he wants his best friends around him when he gets married, whether he's mad at them or not. Honestly, he's probably feeling guilty for forcing an answer out of you.”

“I don't know what to do, Foggy. How can I stand there and watch him do something I know he'll regret?” Foggy was quiet for a moment before he sighed. 

“You and me both. Look, I haven't wanted to say anything because I thought I was the only one having doubts about this relationship. But Matt's made up his mind and you and I both know he can't be convinced otherwise.”

“But Foggy, his religion doesn't exactly condone divorce. What are we supposed to do, just let him marry someone who he's gonna hate in six months?”

“I don't know. But the wedding is tomorrow and they're looking for you and I to both be there. Hang on.” You heard him cover the phone but it still didn't completely muffle his words. You heard someone asking what was taking so long and him telling them he would be right there. The next moment he was back.

“Listen, I can't tell you what to do. I can tell you that if you want me to tell Matt you're sick and can't make it, I will. Or if you want me to tell him you're just running late, I can do that too. Whatever you decide, I support you 100%.”

You sat there and thought about it for a moment before sighing.

“I suppose I can't let my best friend make stupid decisions on his own. Tell him I'll be there soon.”

“Attagirl. You'll be okay, I'll keep you distracted.”

“Thank you, Foggy. You're the best.”

The two of you hung up and you dragged yourself out of bed and over to the closet. You looked at the outfit you had originally planned to wear and put it aside. If you were going to get over Matt, you needed to catch someone else's attention. So you picked out a black dress that still fit the occasion and slipped it on. It fit you perfectly and you forced a smile at yourself in the mirror. With that out of the way, you grabbed your purse and left the house, heading for the brunch spot. You could do this, you told yourself. How bad could it be?

~

If it weren't for Foggy doing his best to distract you, you would've broken down after 5 minutes. Matt barely greeted you when you walked in, something Karen picked up on easily. She shot you a look and you just shrugged before shaking your head and taking your spot next to Foggy. Then it was like every time Veronica laughed at something Matt said or did, you would feel like a knife was in your heart. You wanted that to be you so badly, but it wasn't and you had to accept that. You were lucky Matt hadn't kicked you out of his life after the night before and you counted your blessings where you could. Midway through lunch, you realized you'd caught the eye of a guy across the outdoor space. When he noticed you caught him staring, he winked at you and raised his glass. You forced a smile back and dipped your head in acknowledgement. All the girls cooed, finding it the cutest thing. They urged you to go talk to him and you finally did as they said. But you couldn't help but notice the way Matt white knuckled his cane as you went by.

After exchanging numbers with the guy, you returned to your table. That was when it got really bad.

“What's the matter? Couldn't seal the deal?” Veronica snipped from her spot. You forced a smile and held up your phone. 

“I actually got his number and we agreed to meet up sometime next week.” You said back, a false sugary coating to your voice. Matt cleared his throat and sat up straighter.

“I think it's time we finish up here.” His voice was deep, and you could tell he was pissed off about something but what could it be? You and Foggy shared a look before helping wrap up the last minute preparations. Veronica continued to snip at all of you the whole time and you tried not to snap. The only people she was civil to were her own friends and you, Foggy, and Karen tried not to take it too personally. As lunch finished, you all stood outside the restaurant. Veronica stood with her friends, talking animatedly while the four of you stood back a ways. 

“Thanks for coming out, you guys. I'll see you tomorrow?” The lilt he had on the end of his voice made it sound like a question and he was gazing in your direction so you took a deep breath, forced a grin on your face, and assured him you wouldn't miss it for the world.

“Matt, let's goooo! You can talk to your friends later!” You clenched your fists but let it go as Matt smiled, a forced one if you'd ever seen it, and tapped his way over to her. She took his arm and they made their way down the sidewalk. The three of you waited until they were long gone before any of you spoke. Surprisingly, it was Karen who spoke first.

“Are we really letting this happen?” She asked, biting her lip. 

“I think we kind of have to at this point.” Foggy murmured.

“You guys wanna get drunk at my place?”

There was a resounding yes and the three of you began the trek to the liquor store and then your home. 

Your best friend was marrying someone he shouldn't be, and none of you could do a damn thing about it.

~

“So I just told him the truth! What else was I s'posed to do? He's a human lie detector!” You were explaining to Karen, and Foggy in more detail, what had happened the previous night. They were sympathetic to your plight and it made you feel a little bit better. 

“I can't believe he didn't confess to loving you back.” Foggy slurred out. You immediately whipped your head around to face him, wide eyed.

“What?!”

“Yeah. He's been in love with you for like forever. He only ever dated to keep his mind off of it. No offense Karen.”

“None taken.” She piped up.

“So then why…?”

“I guess he just figured it was time to settle down and neither of you were admitting your feelings to the other so maybe he thought it best if he found someone.”

“That idiot!” Foggy snorted at your outburst and Karen laughed too. “What?”

“You didn't come forth either. This is just as much your fault as it is his.”

Foggy pointed out. You hung your head.

“Yeah, I know.” You sighed. “Let's just get tomorrow over with and hope for the best for our friend. Sound good?”

“Sounds good!”

You bid the two of them farewell and cleaned your space up once they left. You checked your phone before going to bed, seeing a text from the guy at the restaurant. You hesitated before texting back and then putting your phone away. You checked to make sure all of your windows were locked, even the one you kept open for Matt usually. Then you finally laid down. 

Tomorrow, you would get your best friend married and then you would find a way to get over him.

~

“Oh, Matt…” You whispered as you walked up to him. He was dressed to the nines in a fancy tux that was tailored to him and looked amazing. 

“What? Does it look terrible?” He fidgeted with his bowtie, skewing it in the process, and you couldn't help but chuckle. Being around Matt hurt, but you could never deny his presence. You stepped forward and carefully fixed his bowtie back into place.

“You look amazing. Handsome as ever. Veronica is going to go crazy.” You told him. You were standing too close to him, you knew you were, yet you couldn't find it in you to back away.

“Thanks. I'm glad you could make it. Foggy said it sounded like you weren't feeling well yesterday so I was worried.” Ah, so this was his play. Pretend nothing ever happened. Well, you could play that game as well. 

“Yeah, sorry. I woke up feeling rough yesterday cause I didn't get much sleep but I feel better today.” You took a step back and missed the way Matt flinched. You turned from him and looked in the mirror at your dress. It was a simple sheath dress but it was bright pink. All the bridesmaids were in bright colors because of what Veronica wanted and you tried not to cringe at the way it looked on you. Not many people could pull off neon pink and you were certainly no Barbie. But you grinned and bared it because this was what your best friend's future wife wanted. 

“Are you ready? We should take our places in about 15 minutes.” You told him. You heard him take in a sharp breath and it caused you to turn and look at him. Instantly your heart dropped at the look on his face.

“Matt? What's wrong?”

“I can't do this…”

“What? What is it? Are you feeling sick? Should I get Foggy?” 

“I- I'm sorry, I'll be right back.” Matt turned and hurried out of the room. You heard his footsteps, the sound of a door opening, several gasps, his muted voice, followed by a shrieked ‘what did you just say.’ Your eyebrows rose and you heard the sound of a slap which got you moving towards the door. You almost got to it when it was flung open and there stood Matt. His cheek was bright red but he had never looked more proud of himself.

“Matt… what did you do?”

“What I should have done a long time ago.”

“I don't understand, did you just call off your marriage?” 

“Yes, I did.” He said it with such confidence that you could do nothing but gape at him.

“Matthew Murdock it is your wedding day and you called it off?!” You whisper-yelled. 

“Shut up.” He said, starting to walk towards you.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, shut up.” And then he was cupping your face and kissing you and oh, this must be what heaven feels like. He kissed you for several moments before pulling back.

“I have loved you since the first day we spoke. I never should have let myself get caught up in anyone else. You are who I want.” You felt tears well up.

“Matt…”

“Shhh, you don't have to say anything. Just… nod your head if you want to give this a go.” With your forehead pressed to his, he could feel the way you immediately nodded and he grinned. He pulled you in for another kiss.

“Hey, buddy, what's this I hear about a canceled wedding- whoa!”

Matt and you pulled away from each other guiltily and looked towards Foggy who had his hands on his hips. 

“Well it's about time!” 

All of you laughed as Foggy rushed forward and hugged you both close.

“So, does this mean no more evil fiance? Cause I was getting worried, buddy.”

Matt groaned, “Not you too!”

You laughed and smiled. A marriage may have been stopped but you couldn't be happier.

After all, you were in love with your best friend and he loved you too. What more could you ask for?