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spaceyaemonds · 11 days ago

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pairing: dr. jack abbot x reader

sum.: a quiet afternoon with dr. abbot.

warnings: age gap (jack is late 40s, reader is 23), unplanned pregnancy, jack is divorced, not a widower and mentions of his ex wife, it is mention that reader and her mom talk often. please let me know if i missed anything. minors DNI.

note: more of a filler chapter(i’ll consider this 6.5 instead of 7 LOL)!!! just a little look inside them, and we will definitely be seeing more soon!!! jack and reader will meet each others moms next chapter!! also, thinking about doing more drabbles set in this universe, like the proposal, is there anything specific you guys want to see?? unedited. and as always, any feedback is extremely appreciated, it helps keep me motivated. especially reblogs/comments/asks!

wc: 960ish

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Over the past eight weeks, you’ve just about changed Jack Abbot’s entire life.

He goes to a farmers market on Saturday’s, brunch on Sunday’s with your friends, actually eats decent meals and gets a good night's rest at least three nights a week.

Also, he’d never admit it outloud to anyone, but he’s pretty invested in Vanderpump Rules.

Currently, he’s got your feet in his lap while he reads a medical journal, one hand massaging your ankle. Every once in a while, he glances up at you to watch as you knit what he thinks is supposed to be a sweater.

Ever since finding out the gender of the baby almost a month ago, you’d been determined to at least make something for the baby to wear. You got good at knitting surprisingly quickly, and so far have made three hats, two pairs of socks, and started a blanket.

You’ve got your bottom lip tightly tucked into your teeth as you concentrate on the yarn in your hands, and before he can stop himself, he’s reaching over and gently thumbing it out from between your teeth.

Finally, he thinks to himself when you’re wide eyes meet his.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself.” He gestures to your swelling bottom lip as you lick it.

“Sorry,” You let out a small giggle, “I didn’t even notice.”

He nods, hand going back to your ankle, “I figured.”

As he starts reading again, you take the time to watch him, head cocking to the side as you smile.

This hasn’t been so bad.

Sure, it’s been an interesting and difficult situation for both of you. But you like to believe that it could be worse.

He could’ve just not cared. Ignored you and went on with his life. Or pressured you into an abortion you didn’t want.

He could’ve done what he could to just take the baby the second she’s here.

But he really surprised you. He’s been so supportive and so good to you. It’s shocking, in all honesty.

You both feel a lot of guilt, though.

You think you’ve stuck him with you. That he’s only here out of obligation.

He thinks he’s ruined your life.

You work through it all, somehow. You talk him off his ledge more than he talks you off of yours, but you can tell when it’s eating at him more than he can with you.

Or so you think.

Jack likes to think he knows you pretty well despite the timeline of things.

He spends as much time as he can with you. Soaking up every moment of something he didn’t even think he ever wanted. Holds your hair back when you get sick. Rubs your back and feet when you ache. Tries some of the most interesting food combinations he’s ever heard of, some of which are better than others.

Fucks you when you’re insatiable and want him more than anything.

He isn’t quite sure it’s love yet, but he knows it’s on its way there.

He’s loved before. Hell he loved someone enough to marry her, but couldn’t love her enough to give her what you’re giving him.

Another source of guilt for him- one that he’s completely bared to you.

You didn’t know what to say, when he told you about what ate at him most. Why he couldn’t figure out what brought on the need, the desire, to do this with you, but he couldn’t even bring himself to try with her.

You just listen, rub his back, and whisper in his ear that some things just happened for a reason.

He appreciates you and the the way you just let him talk. Or just let him sit with you in silence. Whatever he needs, you somehow manage to give him.

One of the more recent favorites of his is when you take a bath. He can sit up against the cabinets under the vanity with a beer in his hand while you sit and talk about your day, things you want to do for the baby, or just read.

Life is more peaceful with you than he thinks it ever has been.

He glances back over at you, and sees the look in your eyes.

A look he knows all too well will result in him doing something he doesn’t exactly want to do.

“Spit it out, honey.”

You smile at the sound of his voice when he calls you honey.

“I was talking to my mom yesterday,” You trail off as he closes the journal he’s been reading and turns his body all toward you.

“Well?”

Jack knew your mom knew the basics, much like his own family did. How you got pregnant. How you met him. His age.

He knew that the last one had her concerned. Extremely.

The two of you talk most days, and she always gets distant when asking about the baby. Something about it makes him slightly uneasy.

“She’s coming to Pittsburgh next week. Wants us all to get together,” You look down, fidgeting with your fingers, “wants to meet you.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, making unease crawl up your chest.

It was a bad idea to bring it up.

“How do you feel about that?”

He sounds calm and collected, surprising you yet again.

“I mean, you are the father of her grandchild.”

You finally look back up at him, eyes meeting.

He sighs, shaky, “Is that all I am?”

You tilt your head to the side, “You tell me.”

It’s quiet for another beat before he shakes his head as he brings one of his palms to cradle your jaw.

“It’s only fair if you have to meet my mom, too.”

You laugh, nodding lightly before kissing his palm.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

He lets out a huff as he kisses the side of your head, “It’s a deal, then.”

#jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #the pitt x reader #dr jack abbott x reader #dr jack abbot x reader #ahhhhh #🐝 writes #🐝 writes: the pitt

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enwoso · 2 months ago

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I feel like lovie can con Leah into anything so one day lovie ask for a dog and she goes up to Leah saying “mama you know how you said you would get me whatever I wanted well I want a puppy can you do it please mama�� and Leah can’t say no to her so she comes home with a puppy one day

weak spot | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

grumpy masterlist

leah always prided herself on being strong-willed. she could command a defence, lead a team and hold her ground during tough and important matches.

but when it came to you? yeah, she was absolutely useless.

alessia had warned her, of course. "she's four, le. she knows exactly how to get what she wants from you. you have to learn to say no."

leah had just waved her off at the time, convinced she had things under control and that she knew exactly how to say no, like come on it's wasn't that hard after all it was only two letters long.

that was, until one lazy saturday afternoon, a rare break in the footballing calendar where there wasn't any matches but as ever while you and leah enjoyed a relaxing day, alessia was busy running errands she hadn't had time to do through the week.

you climbed into leah's lap, your esme the elephant under you arm as leah was busy reading on her phone. you beginning to play with the hem of her hoodie.

"mama," you started sweetly, looking up at leah with those big impossibly big blue eyes — that leah couldn't seem to say no to.

leah placed her phone down on her chest as she glanced down at you, already sensing danger, "yes, angel?"

"you know how you always say you want me to be happy?"

leah hesitated, unsure at where this was going to go, "uh.. yeah?"

you beamed, inching closer, "well, esme the elephant thinks a puppy would make me so happy." you said resting esme on leah's chest, as leah raised her eyebrows a smirk appearing on her lips.

"esme thinks this does she?"

"well, esme and me”

"can you do it, please. mama?" you pleaded, as you blinked up at her in a way that should have been illegal.

leah was done for.

—

two days later, leah was walking through the front door with a squirming golden retriever puppy in her arms. alessia who had been peacefully making tea in the kitchen, a smile appearing on her face as she heard the front door open and close behind her knowing exactly who it'd be.

expect that big smile quickly disappeared as she turned around and immediately freezing as her face dropped. alessia's eyes darting from leah to the wiggling ball of fluff in her arms, her mouth falling open.

"leah cathrine williamson." she groaned out loud setting her mug down with excruciating precision, "that better be a friends dog-"

leah's face gave it all away in a moment as she winced at her girlfriend's question, "so, okay, before you get mad—"

"before i get mad?" alessia let out a breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you're telling me you just— just walked into a shelter and adopted a dog on your way home from the shops?"

"well, technically i drove there.." leah trailed off. alessia's face less than impressed.

"leah."

leah sighed, shifting the puppy that was in her arms slightly, "listen, less. i tired to say no, i did i promise i really tried." leah began as she stuttered out her words, alessia following along her eyebrows perking ever other word.

"but she looked at me with those eyes and asked and well i admit it, i can't say no to her!" leah lifted the puppy slightly, "and i mean, look at him! that little face. i couldn't say no to that face either-"

alessia slightly amused that leah had finally admitted that she couldn't say no, but her unimpressed demeanour returning as she crossed her arms, "i can say no."

just then the puppy let out a tiny yawn, his ears flopping adorably as he nuzzled further into leah's hoodie, alessia's gaze faltered slightly, her lips twitching.

leah smirked, "mhm, that's what i thought!"

before alessia could argue her case, your little voice squealed from down the hall, probably realising leah was finally home.

"mama, mama, you got him!"

you came running into the room, your socks slipping slightly on the wooden floor as you skidded to a stop in front of leah. your eyes wide with excitement as you reached up to gently cup the puppy's face.

"you got me the puppy!" you gasped, bouncing on your toes before throwing your little arms around leah's leg, "thank you, thank you, thank you!"

leah grinned, ruffling your hair slightly, "of course, angel."

alessia however, let out a dry laugh folding her arms, "she had and she's also bought herself some time to get some willpower lessons."

leah scoffed, feigning offence. "that's rude."

alessia raised an eyebrow, "is it cause at this rate, lovie could ask for a pony next week, and you'd be out the door before i even noticed."

leah opened her mouth to protest but you were already tugging on her hoodie again.

"mama, can we get a pony too?"

leah froze, opening her mouth to try and say the words but nothing was coming out from her lips.

alessia smirked, knowing she was right, "see?"

leah sighed, looking down at the puppy who licked her chin, "ok, okay, but admit it - he's adorable."

alessia sighed to, finally relenting. she crouched down scratching behind the puppy's ears, "yeah, yeah he's cute."

you clapped your hands excitedly, bouncing on your toes. "can we name him waffles?"

leah and alessia exchanged a look. leah smiled. "waffles it is!"

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girlsoutlate · 3 months ago

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tf141 meet prices girl

part one

suggestive themes, alcohol consumption, loser simon, if you can see my favouritism for gaz no you bloody can't xx

today- well tonight was the night. you'd been psyching yourself up from wednesday, john springing the plans on you casually over breakfast. you expected it, just not so soon. all too quickly saturday night had rolled around and you were staring absentmindedly in to your wardrobe. your ever so loving boyfriend had been making fun of your hysterics all day until he became slightly concerned at your lack of appetite over dinner. you chose to nibble on two sides instead of whatever small meal you had originally planned. as you left the table and placed your plate on to the counter john grabbed you by your hips and hoisted you up "love, it's natural to be nervous but yer gettin' yerself worked up for nothin'". brushing a calloused thumb across your lips that were nibbled raw he felt you take a small breath in to talk "i know but what if something goes wrong? what if they think im too dumb for you? they won't like me". the last words out of your mouth were quiet and resolute but hung heavy in the air.

steely blue eyes never leaving yours, john spoke with reverence "sweethear' don't say tha' about yerself. i'm the lucky bastard tha' gets to be loved by you. wha' those muppets think about ya' doesn't matter, least of all to me". a small smile on your face wasn't missed as you looked down to johns hands splayed on your lap. he continued "they'll love ya', i promise- not as much as me though" a gravelly chuckle emanted from his chest. "you're beautiful, do i need to remind you again today? tha' lot will lap up any hint of kindness, so theres no reason a' all why they won't like ya". your arms wrapped around his bulking figure, pressing your face in to his defined chest you whispered "thankyou".

after finishing the rest of your food you jumped off the counter and scuttled upstairs to get ready. coming back downstairs you showed john your outfit, him grunting in appreciation whilst you did a spin, speaking about how you think you've perfected doing this hairstyle. after a silent journey you found yourself stepping out of a cab and standing in front of a pub you could only identify by name. at some point in the car ride your nerves turned to excitement and you were all to eager to meet the men your boyfriend trusted his life with. stepping in to the pub with johns large paw on the small of your back, a wave of warmth and chatter washed over you. warm lights reflecting off the red walls and oak ceiling basking you in a golden light as you scanned the pub. for a moment the hairs on the back of your neck stood as goosebumps rose across your arms; you shook off the feeling; john seemed to had spotted where his task force was, grunting in to your ear "just in tha' corner, doll" he guided you to the left.

with the soft tread of sticky carpet under your feet your eyes landed upon three men in the corner of the pub. a man with a mohawk caught your attention first, raucous laughter causing your steps to falter. lips fluttered against the shell of your ear "'m righ, behind ya", john gave a reassuring squeeze to the fat of your hip. your eyes flicked over to the man being spoken too. his brown eyes met yours, welcoming and soft yet calculating. he flashed you a dazzling smile, dimples appearing on his slim cheeks. by the time you had gotten to the table (nerves causing the journey to feel longer) all three men had their attention on you and john. "captain, nice to see you" the man with the brown eyes said, his velvety voice contrasting with johns gravelly "love, meet gaz, soap and ghost". giving a polite smile you looked them assessing, finally putting faces to what little you know. soaps eyes tracked up and down your body once, he couldn't help but take in your appearance. he knew your face was beautiful from the snooping he'd done, but god did your body live up to it. sharp blue met yours, twinkling with something. gaz pulled out a seat and gestured for you to sit down, price slipped your jacket off and put it on the back of your chair. as you settled while they greeted each other, your attention was drawn to ghost. you couldn't help but notice him.

a hulking figure in the corner of the booth, he blended in with the shadows despite the almost orange light of the pub. his balaclava was covering his whole face, bar dead eyes devoid of any emotion. as his gaze landed on you from across the table, you registered what that sudden nervous feeling was when you first stepped in to the pub. it was him. he'd watched you and john since you arrived, despite his companions remaining oblivious. you tried not to overthink it. just as you were about to tear your gaze away, his near black eyes caught yours. ghost gave you a curt not before gaz spoke to you. "its so nice to mee' you. you've been a well kept secret, eh soap?" nudging soap with his elbow, an impish grin on his face. you let out a small chuckle while soap jokes "ah dinnae know how cap' found ya", a soft rumble of a laugh reverberated from john. "yer a real bonnie lass-" soap let out a soft yelp. curiously you looked around the table and saw ghost staring at him. with a faint warmth to your cheeks you let out a small "thankyou". a voice even deeper than johns makes you slightly jump as ghost instructs "mactavish, go get tha' first round in".

after telling soap the drink of your choice you feel johns warm paw smooth up and down your leg "you alrigh', beautiful?" you nodded and replied "they're just like you said". gaz turns to you with that same dazzling smile "i'm guessing you know more about us than we do about you".

"i supposed so, john told me all about the phonecall incident". at that he turned away, hiding a bashful smile. a husky wheeze, which felt more like a vibration, came from ghost. john squeezed your thigh in hearing that. ghost remembered the day of the 'phonecall incident' well. his sergeant was practically running down the hallway, excitement coming off him in waves. as he told ghost and soap what he heard he wore a smug grinon his face- of course. for the rest of the day that's all ghost bloody heard from his sergeants, although he would be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued. the next day the captain spoke to them about meeting his girl, so gaz felt entirely responsible for solving the 'mystery' as well as getting to meet you. when soap came with the drinks, he started a line of enquiry surrounding yours and johns relationship. his warm hand brushed against yours as he passed you your drink, lingering to ensure you had a proper grip on it.

"so how did you an' price meet? ah cannae imagine him dancing on ye at a club" your boyfriend barked out a sharp laugh. you giggled at the image, deciding he would be reminiscent of an endearing if awkward dancing bear. at the melodic sound of your laugh you caught ghosts eyes, an unreadable stare. your ability of storytelling had the boys rapt, including john who never tired of hearing your view of events. you recounted that somehow your schedules matched up, and after he helped you in an awkward situation you began to talk whenever you saw each other. soap poked fun at his captain after learning that he had a habit of stumbling over his words when asking you anything important, like when he asked you for his own number. after you had finished your anecdote soap directed another question in your direction "wha's tha' captain like? bet he's ah lovesick puppy", guffaws rounded the table. more followed when you retorted "you'd be surprised, he's like a limpet some days".

slowly but surely you grew more comfortable in the conversation, bantering back and forth with soap and gaz, laughing when john interjects about some absolutely absurd guesses about him in your relationship. naturally they ask you about work, all three being pleasantly surprised finding out you don't work a boring office job. you explained that since being with john you can have a job you can enjoy, instead of burning out constantly just to live. gaz nodded in agreement, even though john had told you he had joined the army quite young. he commented "would've probably worked in my dads business if i hadn't joined the army". you hummed in response, filing that away for later analysation, noticing his slightly furrowed brows. soap piped up from the end of the table "ah cannae say ah enjoy gettin' shot at fer a livin, but-"

"tha's enough. remember wha i said" johns gravelly voice cut soap off. it was slightly raised, sending a small shock down your spine. he rarely raised his voice at you, let alone shout. it was strange seeing that authoritative side of him seep through, though some small part of you was interested. "sorry captain" soap quickly responded, "sorry love" he added. as gaz deftly redirected the conversation you quirked an eyebrow at john. "what did you say?" you quietly enquired, picking up your drink, condensation cool against your skin. you noticed john glancing away as he cleared his throat "you shouldn't know what.. what really 'appens when i'm gone." his large hand slides up your leg and down, a soothing action. whether its for you or himself is undecided.

warmth seeps from his hand to yours, adding to the slight flush you feel throughout your body. as you finish up your drink you push your chair back, lukewarm liquid sliding down your throat. "'m gonna go to the bathroom" you quietly mumble, hand on the table for support. you briefly wait for john to follow, used to him 'keeping an eye on you' whenever you went out for drinks. but before he can, gaz stands up. "i'll go with her sir, and get the next round in". price grunts in consideration, with a near empty pint in hand "love?". your eyes flick over to gaz, noticing the light being reflected in a small stud in his ear. "sure" you reply, grabbing your bag in case you needed to fix your makeup. placing his now empty glass on the table john grumbles "keep an eye on her".

gaz guided you over to the bathrooms, his large palm hovering over the small of your back. you could feel the heat radiating off him, an accidental brush feels burning hot even through your clothes. he wasn't as tall or broad as john, but that just made his proximity to you even more apparent, he was different than what you were used to. his physique was well above average, confirmed by the bulging bicep that pulled a chair out for you earlier. his lean torso was evident, even through his baggier top. something enticing radiated off gaz, drawing your attention to him when you first sat down. at the table you noticed his eyes upon you when you spoke, even if he wasn't replying. ever attentive not just to you, but to the rest of the task force. he caught what was said under someones breath, or what was said if someone was being talked over. reaching the door he muttered "i'll be right outside, no rush". entering the bathroom you feel rather giddy that everything is going so well. apparently soap shares the same sentiment.

the remaining three men at the table watched you walk away, john noticing the sway of your hips exaggerated by your tipsy state. ghost noted the details of your outfit, and thanked his mask when he realised his gaze had drifted further south than intended. soap was practically burning holes in to the back of gaz's head, annoyed he wasn't in his place. seems as though the 'competition' to know more about you hadn't ended yet. as soon as you were out of earshot soap turned to the table with a dramatic sigh. "lord 'ave mercy price, where did ye find her? yer one lucky man". ghosts body shook slightly with mirth at johnny's theatrics, yet agreed with him "he's right, captain". john sat in silence, a small smirk growing. hearing the bathroom door open, the table watched as you and gaz walked over to the bar.

he stood slightly behind you as he ordered the drinks. with interest, john watched as his sergeant lent down and whispered something in to his girls ear that made you giggle. the apples of your cheeks were dusted with warmth as you replied with an appreciative smile. unable to hear due to a particularly rowdy group of punters, gaz leant down, motioning for you to repeat yourself. resting a hand on his defined shoulder to balance yourself you did just that. johns eyes became incredibly focused once he saw his sergeant softly brushing your hair out of his face, whispy strands tickling him. pulling away gaz laughed heartily, your face lit up at garnering such a reaction.

soap was practically smoking, itching to talk to you more. ghost and john however, watched with interest, focus never wavering. the latter two shared a glance, something vaguein both their expressions. you and gaz both returned with two drinks each, placing them on the table. the group heard a snippet of your conversation "kyle that is absolutely not true". he laughed as you you turned around back to the bar to retrieve your drink. sitting back down with an oomph, gaz remarked "her sarcasm's worse than yours lt.", wide smile on his face. snatching up his drink soap snarkily said "on a first name basis are ye?". john had never seen someone drink a pint with so much attitude. gaz replied "what? you jealous mate?" with a shit eating grin on his face. before the squabble could continue ghost cut them off with a very pointed sigh.

as soap complained about gaz 'stealing of your attention' john watched you talk with a bartender. you lent lightly on the counter, back slightly arched as you sipped on your drink. with a comically soppy look on his face john reached for his cold pint. despite being nervous tonight you had found your place amongst his men. he couldn't be happier. you conversed with the bartender like she was an old friend, john had always admired your kindness and compassion. it was nice to be looked after, though he'd never admit it. his countenance hadn't been lost on his task force. here they were watching their captain look at his girl in a lovestruck daze, completely dead to the world. the boys would've laughed in shock if they weren't genuinely happy for him. it could be said that price more so than anyone deserved to be happy- oh and if they had the chance to be in johns position, all of them would totally look at you like that too. "i really am lucky to 'ave her" john mumbled to no one in particular, yet they all heard him.

returning to the table you pressed a small kiss on prices cheek, his beard scratching your face a little. a glossy, faintly red mark was left. "y' alrigh' doll?" you nodded in response, squeezing his hand under the table. sipping your drink you carried on with whatever point you had left the conversation at. soaps petty complaints continued, "s no fair he's taken all the credit fer us meetin' yeh, 'n now he's just takin' ya!". you let out a rather boisterous laugh "i promise you'll all get a go". as you turn to look at john after hearing his exasperated sigh you missed soaps wolfish grin towards gaz. you found the formers complaining highly amusing, and so did ghost apparently. he hadn't said much apart from a grunt in agreement and, well, disagreement. but when you poked fun at soap, saying that you "didn't know the army let five year olds be sergeants", that black mass in the corner added "five year olds wiv shit 'aircuts". unfortunately for soap you burst out laughing, insisting through a fit of giggles that you thought his mohawk was incredibly beautiful. much to johns disappointment it sent soap in to a tirade of defending his 'crowning glory'. ghost would be lying if he didn't feel an odd warm feeling flood his chest at producing such visceral reaction from you.

another hour or so passes by, conversation flowing from one topic to another. letting out a small grunt john slapped his thighs and stood up "m goin' out fer a smoke, wanna come for fresh air sweet'eart?". nodding, you slipped on your jacket "could you keep an eye on my bag please? i'll be back soon". pulling your chair in kyle replied "of course, i'll look after your drink too". smiling appreciatively you turned while john guided you out of the pub. as soon as your figures disappeared into the night soap exclaimed "steamin' jesus" and ran a hand down his face. gaz nodded in agreement while ghost stared at his drink.

the three men had met a good amount of women between them, all being some degree of beautiful. a fair amount had similar ease of banter and wit as you and some could rival you in intellect. a few even had the same interests as you. the men could recognise that, yet you seemed so different from any other woman. perhaps it was because you were with their captain, but this spark was apparent in relation to no one but you. they couldn't lie a finger on it yet but they had an inkling. your compassion and sincerity. any woman could be beautiful, alluring, funny, snarky or an airhead bimbo if they wanted to. but you were so unapologetically yourself, from the clothes you wore to how you carried yourself. in a life of secrets and covert operations it was refreshing to meet someone who took pride in being themselves no matter how people reacted. you were sincere, the task force could understand why john loved you for that.

it was even more enticing that you were kind to everyone, for example that young bartender dealing with a group of rowdy punters. you didn't have to be kind, but you were. one of the things price told them about you was your kindness, only elaborating to the point that some people used it against you so "they'd better not piss about and upset his doll". this aspect of you was evident as soon as you joined their table. you made sure to address everyone and listen to what they said, simply because you cared not because it was expected. they could easily see why john loved you, to such a far extent that a small part of them was jealous. jealous that the numerous bodies that woke up beside them in the morning were gone in an hour, no one in the kitchen to share breakfast with. dinner was the same unless they went out searching for someone. the home they returned to was empty, jealous that you weren't waiting for them. with that thought ghost broke the silence between them "m goin for a fag". he left soap and gaz with the same obscure look on their face.

the cold night air enveloped ghost as he stepped outside, a welcoming change from the stuffy pub. he spotted you leant against the wall, arms wrapped around yourself, as john stood next to you. he nodded for ghost to come over. as he rolled up his balaclava and lit his cigarette you averted your gaze. you understood he wouldn't do it unless he was comfortable, but you didn't want to push your luck. noticing this, ghosts husky voice said "s alrigh'". your eyes slightly widened and you nodded. fuck. simon wanted to make you feel at ease, even tried to soften his voice. he's always had the worst luck with women out of the task force- not that he was attempting to chat you up or anything. his rather disastrous train of thought was broken with price flicking the butt of his cigarette on the floor "m goin' back inside, y' joinin' me dove?". you shook your head, drawing you coat tighter "want my head to clear up a little more, i'll be in soon". he grunted in acknowledgement, pulling you in for a kiss, the taste of sour smoke still in his mouth. it was short and sweet, but simon noticed the way your eyes fluttered at johns hand on the nape of your neck. a sharp pang was felt in simons chest. it could be jealousy, but he was well acquainted with that feeling due to the bad hand he was dealt by the universe. this was different, and simon doesn't like change. john gave ghost a stern look before he returned inside, look after her.

you and ghost stood in silence, only interrupted by a passing car or the rustle of clothes when he took another drag of his cigarette. he glanced to you, expecting to see you awkwardly looking at him or the ground, instead you were gazing at the night sky. it was a dark velvet, remarkably clear with a small sprinkling of stars. a few moments passed before you softly said "the skys pretty tonight". poor simon didn't know what to say, you seem genuinely enraptured. before he gave you his usual reply of a grunt you spoke up again "john tells me about sky he sees when he's gone, said that sometimes theres more stars than sky". ghost had heard snatches of these sporadic phonecalls, always leaving to give his captain privacy. he noticed a difference in price after each one, relaxed brows and a straighter back with a lighter mood no matter the state of the mission. now simon knows it was you making that difference. whilst a plume of smoke left his scarred mouth he turned to face you. you did the same, meeting his eyes with a small smile. "price is lucky to 'ave ya'" he quietly admitted. he left out a thought that had been rolling inside his head since first hearing you speak i would be lucky to have you too.

your eyes sparkled, the first full sentence ghost had said to you was that of approval and praise. you knew he was a lonely man, the 141 was the only semblance of family he had, so his approval meant the world to you. you reached out and gently squeezed his forearm "thankyou ghost". he simply nodded, eyes fixed upon you as you returned inside. your touch was a surprise. ghost expected himself to recoil, yet he stood incredibly still. simon knew it was a simple touch- so why did his blood run incredibly warm under your hand? electricity jolted through his skin almost painfully, despite this he wanted to feel it again. wanted to have your attention, look at him with those pretty eyes and feel himself wilt under you. wanted you to touch him again. fuck. you were his captains girl. ghost shook his head violently, it would be comical if he didn't feel so guilty. flicking his cig to the ground with spite he stalked back inside.

the topic of conversation had turned to cooking. your nose wrinkled in disgust hearing some of the food at the mess hall, wondering what possessed people to make that. soap piped up "but ahve smelt prices lunch an' its bloody delicious, did ye make it?". a collective groan rounded the table as you described the last meal you made. traditional spaghetti bolognese with pasta you made yourself. "making the pasta was a little disastrous because someone can't follow instructions". you shuddered at the thought, who knew dough was so airborne? "aye so price don't listen to ye?" soap continued in a suggestive tone. you shook your head and replied "most of the time he takes orders well, but for some reason he assumed he could cook this better than me" your suggestive language and johns red face earned peals of laughter. gaz enquired "so, is it true sir?". ashamed, john mumbled "affirmative". in false shock you exclaimed "what? that you can cook better than me, or that you take orders well?". unfortunately johns protests couldn't be heard over the laughter. the image of the captain john price being bossed around by you was hilarious, probably saluting you before mopping the floors while you lounged on the sofa.

their thoughts wandered further, wondering if price took orders well in all aspects of your relationship. you seemed like a woman that knew exactly what she wanted from the man she loved, they liked that. before their thoughts got collectively dirtier john cut them off in an accusatory tone "i've caught these lot poking around my lunch more times than i can count, 'specialy after you gave me those brownies". you were particularly stressed that week, and baked a little too many. so you packed loads for john, instructing him to give some to his task force. for the rest of that week he was begged to bring in more despite his false admission there was none left.

back at the table gaz declared "your cookin' is the best i've had in a long time, any chance of getting some more?" he wiggled his eyebrows in a bad attempt to persuade you. you beamed at his praise and awful persuasion "i normally give john any leftovers from dinner the night before for lunch, but theres hardly any- he loves to eat". john nodded in agreement "don't want any of you greedy buggers takin' my food". soap had noticed the slightly light hair on johns beard near his mouth months ago, he could already tell john loved to eat. soap downed the rest of his drink in an effort to get his brain to shut up. he almost felt bad having such depraved thoughts of his captain eating out his girl bent over the kitchen counter while he was sitting opposite them in the pub.

noticing that the tips of soaps ears were slightly pink, kyle asked you with that dazzling smile "so how would i- hypothetically- go about getting more food". catching on to what he meant you replied "well you would have to ask the hypothetical man if you were allowed over for dinner. the decision lies solely in his hypothetical hands", a drunken giggle escaping at the silliness. price grunted, weighing up the odds of letting his task force over for dinner. it wouldn't be the first time them coming to his house, but you hadn't lived there then. from the corner, ghosts voice rumbled across the table "i'd like to visit too". you looked in his direction, nodding your head in appreciation. john glanced to you and saw a large cheesy smile plastered across your face, which was replicated by both his sergeants. what has he done. you and his task force had really taking a liking to each other. "i'll think abou' it" he said with finality. you clapped your hands and gave him a big kiss on the cheek "i'll take it". a dopey smile spread across his face at the kiss.

conversation carried on for another half an hour before you let out a yawn. stretching and standing up john sighed "come on dolly its time to get you home, before you turn in to a pumpkin". as john quickly booked a cab you finished the rest of your drink. busying yourself with getting your coat on john said goodbye to his friends. even though it wasn't clear you think you heard "m so happy fer ye mate", "she's gorgeous, treat her well" and "m proud of ye". you'll live in your cloud of plausible deniability quite happily.

"ghost, ahve called ah cab fer us three. it'll be here soon" soap called out, alcohol making him forget his inside voice. kyle replied "m proud of you mate, last time you were barely upright". the melodic sound of your laughter filled their ears for the final time that night. addressing kyle first you pulled him in to a hug "it was so lovely to finally meet you kyle". his lean arm wrapped around your waist, hand resting on the fat of your hip, you felt his breath on your ear "it was nice to meet you darling". kyle pulled away just before soap slightly barged past him. he swept you up in to an enthusiastic hug, chests flush together. you giggled in to his neck before a loud cough from behind you prompted him to hold you at arms length. "nice meetin' ye bonnie, when are ye next free?" before you could reply you felt a familiar arm corded with muscle hold you by the waist and pull you away. johns voice rumbled against your back as he said "mactavish you will know when we are free, if tha's alrigh' with the little lady". you nodded in agreement and replied "i'd like to see you all again, if thats okay with all of you?". the last part of your sentence was said in a mild manner.

for just a second the 141 saw a glimpse in to your second-guessing, price had told them to be extra nice to his birdie. before the sergeants could reassure you with grandeur, ghost resolutely said "of course". you beamed at all of them, teeth glinting and cheeks round, the widest and truest smile you'd worn all night. simon felt his heart swell slightly with pride, he did that. "cabs nearly here, you ready?" you nodded and waved a final time, john continued "good catchin' up with ya, see you horrible lot monday". the sergeants gave a very disorganised salute while ghost nodded his head.

stepping in to the night, a slight drizzle had started. despite that you abruptly stopped and pulled john in, cutting of his question with a kiss. you pressed your lips to his slightly harder and sloppier than you wanted in your drunk state, but john didn't seem to mind. his warm mouth opened more, bitter taste of beer on his tongue and slight scratch of his bed earning a soft moan from you. in return he gripped the fat of your hip pulling you impossibly closer, chests flush. at the whistles of onlookers you both pulled away, your eyes twinkled in the stars as a feeling of pure content filled both your bodies, "i'm so happy john". you both clumsily climbed in to cab that had pulled up beside you. your eyes were fixed upon the passing scenery outside the window and johns eyes were fixed on you. the reflection of streetlights on the droplets of the window looked like glitter, the perfect backdrop to the perfect view. sighing contently john replied "i'm 'appy too, doll".

in the other cab the rest of the 141 weren't happy, they were ecstatic. the mystery of their captains girl had finally been solved, the theories developed over their 'detective' period had been proven true or false. even ghost had joined in with the sergeants vigorous discussion about you, all singing your praises. although they had 'solved' the mystery, the new information had presented them with a new set of questions, a want to know more about yours and prices relationship. whilst discussing these questions passionately there was a thought none of them would vocalise, they wanted more of you. to spend more time around you, learn more about your likes and dislikes, get the recipe for your cooking and replicate it at home. they wanted to listen to your music and know about the memories related to each song. greedy hands grabbing at pictures of your latest holiday or your final day at school. they wanted more more more. they knew they were a bunch of greedy bastards, but john had let them at something so kind, so different, so sacred to any other woman they had met.

they knew this wasn't a normal reaction to meeting your superiors girlfriend. but years in the military caused disconnect between them and the world they couldn't quite explain. they know their eagerness is odd and unusual, but how else did price expect them to react. he had noticed the looks his task force had given each other, that had flew right over your head. not looks of malice, but something obscure and vague. like being drawn down a path despite not knowing where you may end up.

none of them knew that today had changed something within all of them, it just wasn't apparent. yet.

heloooo long awaited sequel, thankyou so much for being patient and thankyou even more for reading :)) i appreciate every single person who likes, comments, reblogs and follows!! any interaction is greatly appreciated <3

these big dumb stupid men living in my head have gotten me through my breakup. ive been feeling really bummed out so thankyou for being patient while i write this

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moonstruckme · 6 months ago

Note

hi i have an unhealthy attachment to your doctor!remus content…could i request a fic where reader is hiding some type of health problem from him or maybe ignoring it, and when something bad happens he finds out and is all stern with her and his usual worried self? i <3 this man, thank you truly for sharing your writing and doing it so well!!

Thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: description of vertigo, mention of nausea

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’re sick of being miserable. You had a cold, which had turned out to be the flu, which had turned into a sinus infection, and your poor, sweet boyfriend had weathered it all with you. Remus had made you soup. He’d warmed damp towels for your sinuses. He’d stayed home from work a couple of days, and rubbed your back, and your chest, and your temples when they ached, and supplied you with name-brand medicines. He’d been so, so patient when you were whiny and awful to be around. So now, when your sinus infection has turned into this heinous ear pain, you’ve decided you’re done with it.

You won’t entertain your body with its miseries any more. You certainly won’t be making it Remus’ problem.

It’s easy not to feel miserable when you wake up before him on a slow Saturday morning. There’s a line of sunlight reaching across the room from the crack in your curtains, Remus’ face lovely even in shadow. He could use a haircut, you think fondly. It’s starting to cover the tops of his ears, which you think is a rather endearing look on him even if you have to agree when he says it’s not very professional.

Eventually his eyes blink open. He smiles when he finds you watching him, the stretch of his lips sleepy and content. You draw a finger lightly down the bridge of his nose.

“I think,” you say, “that we should stay here all day long.”

Remus’ smile widens, and it takes half a second after his mouth begins moving for you to realize you can’t hear him properly. You pick your good ear up off the pillow as subtly as you can, propping your chin on your hand. You ignore the wave of dizziness that follows.

“...what you really want? You’ve been home nearly all week,” says Remus. “What if we went on a walk today? We could go to that park you like, the one with the lake.”

You shove down the dread that rises in your chest. This is what you want. You want to get over being poorly and get back to your life.

“You’re right,” you say brightly. “That sounds great.”

Remus peers over you to check the time. “Oh. God, we slept in, didn’t we? We may have to go soon if we want it to still be nice out.”

“That’s alright,” you say easily. “I’ll be right after you, I just have to pick out what I’m going to wear.”

Remus leans forward to peck you on the forehead, getting out of bed with a sleepy groan. He stretches his neck this way and that, movements sluggish as he goes toward the bathroom.

Your movements are sluggish for different reasons. You sit up slowly, fighting through the vertigo that sloshes the room about you in protest. It wasn’t this bad yesterday.

You discover a series of new miseries as you get dressed with cautious, snail-like movements. Your ear hurts something awful. More than that, the pain has spread to most of your head. The constant dizziness quickly results in a low nausea. You’re genuinely uncertain whether the ringing in your ears is a symptom of your ear infection or a warning bell of your impending insanity.

Putting on your trousers is an ordeal. By the time you sit down on the bed to pull on socks, your resolve has spiderweb cracks spreading and threatening to unleash a meltdown.

But you’re stubborn. You can do this, you think. If you’re only walking on even ground in the park, and Remus’ hand is in yours, you’re sure you can manage. The internet said your symptoms wouldn’t last long anyway—maybe they’ll clear up as the day goes on.

“...ove? Dove?”

You look up as Remus comes to stand in front of you, swallowing when the world spins. In the center of the swirl, you think he’s smiling. His hand cups your face.

“You seemed off in your own world there,” he says fondly.

You smile and hum, keeping your head perfectly still so that the spinning slows. Remus’ eyebrows twitch towards each other.

“You alright?”

“Mhm, yeah.” You cup your hand over his, holding onto it as you stand. “Let’s go.”

“You’re ready?” he asks while you pull him towards the door. You sway a bit in your effort to walk at a normal pace, reaching for the doorframe.

The hallway in front of you looks like a funhouse horror. You put one foot in front of the other as surely as you can. “Yeah,” you say. “Aren’t you?”

Remus’ hand tightens on yours. You don’t understand why for a moment, but then you’re falling sideways, his hands catching you around the waist.

“Dove.” His stern voice is slightly alarmed and largely disembodied, your eyes unable to find his face in the whirling mass in front of you. “What’s going on?”

Like an overinflated balloon popping, you burst into tears.

Remus collects you to his chest, holding your head securely against him as he half carries you back to the bed. It doesn’t prevent your dizziness entirely, but it helps.

“What’s happening?” he asks more gently as you sniff and whimper. “I can’t fix it if I don’t know.”

“I think it’s an ear infection,” you say in a small voice. “It hurts, and my head hurts, and I’m so—” You take in a short breath. “—so dizzy I feel sick.”

“Okay. Okay, it’s alright.” Remus pets the back of your head, shushing you until you calm some.

“Sorry,” you whimper.

“What are you sorry for, love? For crying?”

Your sniffly silence is answer enough.

Remus sighs. “Why did you try to act like nothing was wrong?”

“Because,” you say thinly, “I’m tired of things being wrong. I just want—” You pause, pressing your lips together to avoid crying again. “I want to feel normal.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Your boyfriend’s mix of disappointment and sympathy only brings you closer to tears. “You can’t will it, my love. And you can’t pretend this away. These are the sorts of things I need to know about.”

You blink away the blur of tears, grateful that your world has finally straightened out. You press your head closer to Remus’ chest. “I wanted to give you a break, too,” you admit. “The internet said it would go away in a couple of days, so I figured I’d just ride it out.”

“Mm, a middle ear infection would.”

You stiffen. “What does that mean?”

The kiss Remus drops to your head is heavy with compassion. “Vertigo like this comes with an inner ear infection, dove. They take longer to go away, sometimes weeks, but the process can be sped up with antibiotics.”

He pauses while you process this.

“You know, the sort prescribed by a doctor.”

“Oh.”

He chuckles fondly, kissing your head again. “This is why you tell me things. Understand?”

“Yeah.” You wrap your arms around his middle, clinging pathetically. “I’m sorry. Help me.”

“I will, sweetheart. Think you can lay down and be still while I nip to work and the pharmacy?”

You don’t think you’ll have any problems there.

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months ago

Text

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 16

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15

Aside from bathroom breaks, Eddie doesn’t leave his room for two days. Friday bleeds into Saturday, bleeds into Sunday, and Eddie wallows in it. Wayne knows him well enough to not bother him, but Wayne also knows him well enough to barge into Eddie’s room Sunday morning without even knocking.

“Up, boy,” he says gruffly, turning Eddie’s overhead light on. “Your eggs are getting cold.”

Eddie groans, and tries to roll over to bury his face back into his pillow, but Wayne grabs him by the ankle and yanks until he goes tumbling out of the bed.

“Wayne!”

“I ain’t asking,” Wayne says, storming out of Eddie’s room without closing the door.

As is his right, Eddie whines and rolls around on his floor for a minute until he can finally find the will to get up. Clearly knowing that it would take Eddie a minute, Wayne’s just plating eggs and potatoes as Eddie walks into the kitchen, still clothed in only his boxers and the same shirt he’d been wearing when Carver’d kicked his ass on Thursday.

They settle across from each other at their dingy table, Wayne letting him get a few bites of breakfast in him before the interrogation he knows is coming begins.

“What happened?” Wayne asks, pushing his own plate away so he can focus on staring Eddie down.

Eddie swallows his bite of potatoes, throat suddenly dry. But, he wants to tell someone, he wants to tell Wayne, who, no matter how Eddie fucks up, is always in his corner.

“I’ve been getting these letters,” Eddie starts, using his fork to play with his food so he doesn’t have to meet his Uncle’s eyes as the whole sordid tale comes out.

He tells it like he experienced it: thinking it was a joke at first before getting wrapped up in the letters, finding out it was Chrissy, trying to connect the living, breathing girl to the words on the page.

And then, Harrington, strong and sure as he defended him from Carver, taking care of his wounds in the aftermath, lying to him for months until he couldn't get away with it anymore.

Wayne just listens without interruption while Eddie talks about Jeff’s betrayal, the fear in Chrissy’s eyes, the defeated slope of Harrington’s back as he’d walked out the door, going god knows where with his car still at the quarry where he’d left it.

When Eddie’s finally done, Wayne hums and pulls his now-cold food back in front of him, picks up his fork and starts to eat. Eddie watches him, gobsmacked.

“Wayne?” Eddie asks, moving his hand up and down in front of his Uncle’s eyes, checking to see if the old man can even still see him. “That’s all you’re going to say? Hmm, and then back to breakfast?”

Eddie scowls as he forks another potato into his mouth, chewing as he continues his tirade. “Where are your wise words, old man? Why the hell’d you even make me get up if this is all I was going to get?”

Wayne hums again, clearly just to piss Eddie off, then finally answers, “you needed to eat.”

Eddie stares at him, mouth hanging open half-masticated potatoes on full display for anyone to see. Not that anyone’s going to because Wayne’s gone back to polishing off his breakfast.

“That’s it?” Eddie demands, throwing his fork down in a huff.

Wayne sighs, like Eddie’s the one being unreasonable here and finally puts his fork down to meet his nephew’s eyes.

“Finish your breakfast, and we can talk.”

Eddie whines, but dutifully scarfs down his plate, never breaking eye contact with his uncle, like they’re in a stand-off. And in a way, they are.

Once done, Eddie tosses his fork across the room into the sink just to prove a point, leans across the table and glares at Wayne. Because he’s an asshole, Wayne takes another sip of his coffee, maintaining eye contact, before finally opening his mouth to speak.

“You like this boy?” Wayne asks.

Eddie sputters and stalls out. “You—I—what?” Eddie asks, fisting his hands into his greasy hair.

“It ain’t an unreasonable question,” he replies. “You’re talking about the kid like he’s a knight in one of those little games you like so much.”

“I—no I wasn’t!” Eddie cries, cheeks burning at the implication.

“Mmmhmm,” Wayne replies, eyebrow raised as he drinks more of his coffee like what he’s saying is of no importance at all.

“Wayne,” Eddie says, leaning over the table to clutch at his shoulders, ribs protesting at the pull. “I’m not gay.”

And that, out of everything, is what gets Wayne to put his mug back down and take Eddie seriously. “You ain’t?” Wayne asks, eyebrow raised. Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide. “You sure? There’s an awful lot of men in leather on your walls.”

Eddie squawks, sinking painfully back into his seat. “That’s Metallica.”

Wayne squints at him. “Is that one of them code words y’all use to stay safe?”

Eddie stands up, chair screeching against the linoleum floor. “It’s a band, Wayne!” Eddie cries, at a loss for what the fuck is happening. “I’m not gay!”

Wayne looks up at him, both eyebrows raised enough to scrunch up his forehead, wrinkling his mostly-bald head. “Well, alright then.”

Eddie stares at him, brain buzzing with even more questions than he’d had before. How long had Wayne thought he was gay? Why? What did he do?

Was he really okay with it?

Eddie turns on his heel and marches out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom without another word. He slams the door and collapses onto his bed, gut squirming with all the thoughts churning in his head.

***

Chrissy isn’t surprised when Eddie doesn’t come to school on Monday; she is surprised when Steve does. He’s got bags under his eyes and Robin Buckley super-glued to his side, but he’s still there.

She can’t help the way she runs into his arms, leaving Jeff behind without thought. Steve catches her—he always does, pushing his hands beneath his letterman jacket to grab at her waist and pull her in. They sway there in the middle of the hallway, all their classmates jeering around them.

Chrissy doesn’t care; she’s spent the entire weekend thinking about the crushed look in his eyes as he walked out of the Munson trailer without a backwards glance

“You’re okay?” she asks, face pressed into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

He runs his hand up and down her back as he responds, “I will be.”

She pulls back to smile up at him and reaches up to brush a floppier-than-usual lock of hair behind his ear. “Walk me to class?”

He links their elbows, and does just that, Jeff and Robin falling into line behind them, Robin prattling on about some movie marathon her and Steve had had at her house over the weekend.

Chrissy’s just glad he wasn’t alone.

Steve sighs, shoulders slumping as he says, “I’m sorry, Chris,” he says, not looking her way. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess.”

She stops abruptly enough that Robin stumbles into them and bounces back, cutting off her stream of words mid-babble to squawk at them. Chrissy doesn’t acknowledge her, too busy standing on her tippy toes so she can grab Steve’s shoulders and yank him down to her level.

“You listen to me, Steve Harrington,” she demands, looking into his big, bewildered eyes. “Your mess is my mess, okay?”

He’s still just staring at her, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, so she digs her nails in hard and says, “forever,” with as much finality as she can muster.

He keeps staring at her, looking like he’s about ready to burst into tears in the middle of the hallway. Finally, he says, “come over tonight?” more a demand than a question.

She drops her grip on him and nods, content.

Chrissy doesn’t ask questions when Steve leads her over to Robin in the cafeteria. It’s easy to take that last, final step into social suicide with him at her side.

They fall into their usual routine that night—they watch trashy TV neither would admit to liking to another living soul, and paint each other’s nails.

The lack of letter writing sits like a dead body between them.

“He won’t tell anyone,” Chrissy says, tightening her grip on his hand when he jerks. Chrissy keeps carefully painting his nails, her favorite pink, not looking up at his face. The color suits him—it’s not fair, but everything does. “He promised.”

Steve doesn’t ask for clarification, they both know who she’s talking about. “You believe him?”

She thinks about that torn, guilty look on Eddie’s face and replies, “I do.”

She finishes his pinkie and settles his hand down on her own knee to dry, knowing from previous experience that if she gives it back, he’ll ruin all her work running his hand through his hair.

“That’s good,” he mutters, looking down at his own hand, tilted so far forward that even when she looks up, his hair’s flopped too far into his face to see his eyes. “It still hurts.”

Chrissy sighs. She’d seen this coming all those months ago when she’d helped pen the first letter. Had seen the writing on the wall like it was she herself that was writing it. But, she’d helped him anyway, hoping to salvage his safety, if not his dignity.

She can only hope she has.

“I know,” she replies, biting her lip against apologies he won’t accept. “But, we’re in this together, okay?”

Steve’s fingers twitch on her leg, but he doesn’t pull away. “Even with you and Jeff?”

“You figured that out, huh?” she asks, and that’s what finally gets him to look up at her with a raised brow, making her laugh.

“I mean, you told me you were going to ask him out,” he starts, before leering over at her. “And you two aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Tell that to Eddie,” she replies, wanting to swallow the name back down once it comes out of her mouth, but it’s too late—it’s already been said.

Steve smiles wryly as he says, “well, he’s not exactly the most observant, is he?”

He has her there. Steve himself, no matter how hard he tried, wasn’t subtle with his affections: the compliments, the stuttering over his words, the blushing. But none of it had done more than make Eddie give Steve suspicious looks, like there was some sort of game he wasn’t in on.

There was, but even without knowing he was playing, he’d still beaten Steve.

“No, he’s really not.”

Steve hums, picking up his hand to check if it’s dry before moving onto painting her nails. He picks his favorite yellow for her, even though he knows it washes her out. She holds out her hand and doesn’t complain.

“I really like him,” Steve says, quietly enough that it’s barely audible over the murmur of voices coming from the TV.

“I know,” she whispers, watching the flickering sadness on his face by the illumination of the Harrington’s big television screen. “I love you. You know that, right?”

He pauses in painting her nails to meet her eyes, smiling for real now. “I know,” he says, stroking the skin on her wrist with the free fingers not holding the nail polish applicator. “And you know what? This was all worth it if I got you out of it.”

And then he just goes back to painting her nails like that wasn’t the most romantic thing anyone has ever said. Eddie Munson can fuck himself; Chrissy’s going to be buried in Steve’s letterman jacket and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

***

Eddie doesn’t go to school on Monday. He’s too busy rereading the secret admirer notes—the notes Steve Harrington left him—like if he reads them in the right order, it’ll all snap together in his brain in a way that makes fucking sense.

And it does, sort of. It’s like sorting out a bunch of puzzle pieces after finally knowing what the shape of the puzzle even is. Some parts of the letters just jump out of the page, the longer he looks. In the end, he processes this the way he processes everything: he makes a list.

Proof that Steve Harrington is my Secret Admirer:

1. I’m not trying to bully you.

2. I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you.

3. I know you don’t like them, but I like sports.

4. My favorite color is yellow, like the sun, and sunflowers, and all those happy, bright colors.

5. But my eyes? They’re brown, but nowhere near as pretty as yours.

6. I tried playing the piano again, and I’m a little rusty.

7. Do you hate all of them, or just the bullies?

8. You laughed, but it wasn’t your real laugh like when Mr. Danver accidentally said ‘orgasm’ instead of ‘organism’.

A jock afraid of Eddie labeling them as a bully? Check. Favorite color, the same one Steve Harrington had painted his nails all those weeks ago? Check. Rich enough to have a piano that’s just not played? Check. But the most damning part of all: Chrissy was never in Mr. Danver’s class with him last year, but Harrington was. And Chrissy? Her eyes are bright, translucent blue.

The longer he looks at those two incriminating bits of evidence, the stupider he feels. It was never her, and from the looks of it, they hadn’t put much effort into pretending it was. It was always Harrington from that first, forever-lost letter that they’d stuffed in his locker.

And the longer he pours over the letters, the less he can picture Chrissy sprawled on her bed, writing each letter with a shy flourish before spraying it with a puff of her favored scent. No. It’s Harrington, frowning down at the page because words have never come easy to him; it’s Harrington sleeping with Eddie’s letter placed gently beneath his pillow; it’s Harrington who’d made Eddie smile like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

And now that he thinks about it, wasn’t it Harrington whose eye he kept catching from across the cafeteria? Harrington who’d stutter over his words around Eddie, but still told him he was a good storyteller?

Harrington who wanted to go to his show. Chrissy hadn’t even remembered Corroded Coffin’s name.

Harrington had–of course he had.

And he can picture that, too now. Harrington in the crowd in his stupid polo with his bright yellow nail polish, sticking out like a sore thumb in the gruff crowd at the Hideout, beautiful brown eyes trained solely on Eddie.

He can still feel the way his pulse had ratcheted up when they were in the bathroom, Harrington between his spread thighs, palms warm against his tender ribs, sucking all the oxygen out of Eddie’s lungs with how close he was.

It’s too much.

“Hello?” Jeff’s mom sounds curt over the phone, already fed up with Eddie calling before he’s even said anything. Eddie doesn’t care; he can’t when he needs Jeff this badly.

“Can I talk to Jeff?” he cries out, hand shaking around the receiver as he listens to her grumble, but she still shouts for her son to come pick up the goddamn phone.

“Hello?”

Eddie should wait until he’s sure Jeff’s mom is no longer in hearing vicinity, but he can’t, too wound up tight to keep from blurting out, “am I gay?”

There’s a moment of silence that Eddie can barely breathe through before Jeff says, “uhh, Eddie?” in such a bewildered voice that Eddie sort of wants to punch him.

“Yes, yes, it’s me,” he says, words spilling out over each other. “And I’m sorry about what I said, and you’re sorry that you kept secrets from me—we can do that later, Jeff!”

“Uh, oka—”

“Now, am I gay?” he’s panting by the time he’s done, not having taken a single breath during his tirade. He’s waiting for Jeff’s confirmation or denial, but all that comes down the line is his quiet breathing. “Jeff?”

“Uh, shit, we’re doing this? Okay.” Eddie can almost picture the fed-up palm Jeff’s rubbing against his face, as if it’s somehow Eddie’s fault that Jeff is taking so long explaining the squirmy nebulous feeling in Eddie’s gut. “I don’t know man, why do you think you’re gay?”

Then, Eddie does what he should have done all along, and spills everything to Jeff, from the first letter all the way up to Steve Harrington’s bitchy little speech in the quarry as he put himself bodily between Eddie and Jason Carver.

“—and then he kneeled between my knees like that’s a normal, straight guy thing to do and just like, put his hands in my shirt!” Eddie whines, long since having settled onto the cold linoleum of his kitchen floor. “I mean, what the hell?”

“I think you’re forgetting one important fact, dude: Steve’s not straight.”

“Which brings me back to my question!” Eddie replies, trying for breezy and landing on whiny. “Am I gay?”

Jeff hums down the line like he’s really thinking about it this time. “Well, when he was touching you,” he starts, like that already doesn’t have Eddie’s face flaming, “what did you feel?”

Eddie puts himself back into that moment, thighs splayed pressed open by the heavy weight of Harrington’s body, Harrington’s big, warm hands running over his skin, his worried golden brown eyes roving over Eddie’s face.

“I felt like I was on fire,” Eddie whispers, feeling that same heat now pooling lower in his gut.

“…in a good way?” Jeff asks.

Eddie’s brain goes static, full of too much to differentiate good from bad, if that’s a distinction that ever existed at all. Eddie makes a questioning noise in his throat, knees twitching restlessly where they’re crossed in front of him.

“Okay, okay, uhh—hmm,” Jeff hums across the line. “Did you want to move closer or away?”

Eddie closes his eyes and thinks, imagining that trapped, warm, overwhelming feeling of being caged in by Harrington’s body. “Both?”

Jeff hmms again, clearly trying to think it through. Eddie can’t blame him—this is the most confused he’s been in his entire life, and Jeff doesn’t even have an all-access pass to his brain to try to pick answers out of–not that it’s currently doing Eddie much good.

“Do you want to try kissing a guy?” Jeff asks. “I’d do it, if it was for you, dude.”

Eddie’s nose wrinkles, lips puckering in disgust, “ew, you’re like my brother.”

Jeff laughs at him and replies, “so you don’t want to, not because I’m a guy, but because we’re like brothers? Sounds pretty gay, dude.”

“Oh.”

Jeff doesn’t say anything; he’s always been good at sensing when Eddie just needs a minute to think. But this time, he doesn’t think a minute will cut it, so he continues with a, “hey Jeff?”

“Hmm?”

“I really did mean it, you know.” He squeezes the phone tighter against the side of his face, like that will help his sincerity ring down the line. “I am sorry, and we should talk about it, but I can’t yet.”

Jeff still doesn’t reply, but his breathing is steady and sure down the line, settling Eddie’s anxious heart down to a little flutter.

“Is that okay?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, dude,” Jeff replies gruffly. “So, you’ll still call me?”

Eddie smiles. He’s missed Jeff, is the thing. They’ve been so distant lately, and no matter how well Eddie and Gareth get along, he’s no Jeff. “Or accost you at school, whichever comes first.”

That makes Jeff laugh; Eddie lets the sound warm him. “Okay, but I’m serious about the kissing thing!” Jeff replies, “Come over and I can plant one right on y—”

Eddie hangs up on his friend, feeling more himself than he has in days. No matter what happens, he has Jeff.

PART 17

#koko's steddie secret admirer au #steddie #my fic #jeff is the real mvp here putting up with all of eddie's issues #well. him and wayne

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harrywavycurly · 21 days ago

Note

For protective harry in WTF I'd like it to be all of the above. I mean everything that you mentioned. I need to see that man worried sick about his baby momma's well being and I need to see him keeping her glued to his side when they're in crowded public place or something and I also need to see him giving death glares to whoever is trying to get too close to her. Thank you very much.

Hiii lovey!! Okay okayyy I think I kinda hit all of these with this blurb, it’s Harry being protective in ways that fit his personality in the story! So I hope you enjoy and don’t worry I’ll also add some more protective Harry in the next few chapters as well!!💖

You can find all things Worth the Fight: Here✨

CW: None just the usual pregnancy stuff!

A/N: This has a tiny time jump in it so if you’re confused don’t worry in the series you’re not this close to your due date! I just thought this fit the request better!✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r @cumuluscranium @donutsandpalmtrees @silastylesswift @prettygurl-2009 @blueleonor @daphnesutton @angeldavis777 @harryssunflower17 @blckburd @tinawritesstuff @inlikea-coolway

Summary: You and Harry enjoy an afternoon stroll✨

It’s a perfect afternoon for a walk, the sidewalk is nice and shady thanks to the trees that line the streets of Harry’s neighborhood blocking the sun but the warmth of if is still present and the slight breeze is making it feel cooler than it actually is. Something Harry knows you’re grateful for because as you near the last few months of your pregnancy your hot flashes have begun to cause you a bit of an issue, but you refuse to let them get in the way of enjoying the beautiful springtime weather, so you just now carry around a small handheld fan in your bag at all times.

Harry fights off a smile as he holds his arm out for you to grab onto while you slowly make your way down his front steps. Your very prominent baby belly has officially gotten to the point where you can no longer see your feet making you rely on Harry to keep you from taking a misstep, something he gets an odd sense of pleasure from, knowing you trust him enough to guide you so you won’t fall. His eyes land on your feet as you take the last step, your grip on his arm tightening as you let out a sigh of relief the moment your feet land on the smooth ground of the driveway making him chuckle.

“Well done love that only took you,” Harry looks over at his wrist that has his watch on it while you give him a glare. “Four minutes and twenty three seconds this time.” Before you can take the hand that’s gripping his forearm and smack him upside the head with it Harry is placing his much larger hand over it and giving it a loving pat. “That’s a new record.”

“I just don’t get why you have so many steps just to get to the front door? You already have a gate to keep people out.” You huff as the two of you make your way down his driveway. “You didn’t need to add those torture devices.” You mumble making Harry just shake his head at your new found hatred for his front steps.

“I’m so sorry that when I built this house I didn’t exactly take into consideration that one day the mother of my children would have to walk up and down the front steps while very pregnant.” He says as he reaches with his hand that was over yours on his arm and opens the side gate that goes right to the sidewalk. “I do hope you can forgive me.” He adds with a smile that has you rolling your eyes as you walk through the gate.

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s not a no.” He points out as he takes his place on the side of the sidewalk that’s closest to the street, your hand on his arm falling to your side after you bring the pair of sunglasses that were pulled up into your hair back down so they are now covering your eyes as the two of you make your way down his street.

“It’s not exactly a yes either.” You inform him as he places a hand on your lower back giving it a rub, something he’s done anytime the two of you are out of the house recently that helps him feel the tiniest bit more at ease knowing he has a hand on you in some way.

The two of you let a comfortable silence take over as you go further down the street, choosing to enjoy the sounds of birds chirping and every now and then a random dog bark that’s coming from behind someone’s gate. Somewhere during the short amount of time the two of you have been walking Harry’s hand has slid from your lower back over to your waist allowing him to ever so gently pull you closer into his side. He smiles to himself when he turns his head to look over at you, the white sunglasses that you stole from his closet match your white and blue maternity dress that ends right at your knees perfectly and the slight breeze causes the strands of your hair that have fallen out of your messy bun to blow around your face and in this moment Harry swears you look absolutely beautiful, slightly rosy cheeks and all.

“Stop staring at me.” You say shyly as you bring a hand up and adjust your sunglasses in a poor attempt to hide the way your cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink under his adoring gaze.

“But it’s one of my favorite things to do.” He argues with a teasing smile that has the corners of his mouth pulling upwards, making his dimple appear.

When he thinks you’re about to hit him back with some witty remark he notices the subtle change in your step that he would’ve missed if he wasn’t hyper fixated on keeping up with your movements, something that he’s been doing ever since he met you at your first Dr appointment that confirmed you were in fact pregnant. It’s his way of trying to make sure he is prepared for any sudden changes in your demeanor due to something causing you pain or lately any slight missteps you might take because you simply can’t see what’s directly under your feet so he can prevent you from getting hurt in any sort of way. So when you bring your right foot down and let out the faintest of noises as a small jolt goes through your body that he can easily feel since his arm is wrapped around you and his hand is firmly on your waist.

“You need new hobbies or-”

“What happened?” Harry asks interrupting your playful insult as he stops walking making you do the same, before you can say anything he is moving so he’s standing in front of you with his hands on the tops of your shoulders.

His eyes roam over your face for any obvious signs of discomfort before traveling down to your belly that your hands are resting on top of but when he takes a small step back, his hands sliding down to your wrists so he can look at your feet that’s when he sees the way you’re avoiding putting any weight down on the ball of your right foot. Once he realizes you don’t have any serious injuries he feels his heartbeat begin to go back to normal and his anxiety goes back down to its usual low simmer, because if he’s being honest he’s always a little on edge when out with you because he can’t control what happens nearly as much as he can from the comfort and safety of his house or your apartment.

“I uh think.” Harry ignores the surprised squeak that escapes your lips when he kneels down making you put your hands on the top of his shoulders to help you keep balance as he messes with the strap of your shoe. “There’s something in my shoe.” You mumble as Harry just gently taps your foot silently telling you to lift it so he can slide the shoe off.

“How’d you even manage to get a rock in your shoe? We haven’t even walked by any rocks.” He asks as he hears you let out a huff while he watches a small pebble fall from your shoe when he tips it over.

Your grip on his shoulders tightens as he is extra careful putting your shoe back on. The whole time Harry is messing with getting the pebble out of your shoe he makes sure he is looking around to check the surroundings, wanting to ensure no one is getting too close or that the two of you aren’t in the way of someone riding on their bike or out for a run.

“I don’t know.” You whine making Harry let out a small chuckle as he stands up after checking to make sure you don’t have anything wrong with your left shoe. Before he can stop himself he’s leaning in and placing a kiss to your forehead making him smile when he hears you let out a soft sigh as your hands slide down from his shoulders to his chest.

“Don’t freak out okay?” His voice is hushed as his eyes briefly glance over the top of your head as his hands find their way to yours that are gently resting on his chest. “But there’s a few people behind us.” He explains as he looks down at you and he doesn’t miss the slight downward twitch the corners of your mouth make as his words hit your ears.

“Oh god I look massive from behind please tell me they aren’t-”

“You do not look massive you’re pregnant with twins for crying out loud you look amazing.”

“You’re just saying that so they can’t snap photos of me crying.”

“Love there’s photos of you bawling your eyes out on the street after our first date so I’m not all that worried about you crying in public anymore.”

“Riiiight.” Harry quirks a brow at how sarcastic your voice is as he brings your hands up to his lips so he can place kisses to your knuckles to try to help you calm down a bit since he knows how uneasy you still are when there’s cameras around. “The day you stop worrying about me crying anywhere is the day Ethan tells you he wants to be friends.”

“Wait so you’re saying he doesn’t want to be best mates?” Harry jokes making you laugh as he glances behind you to make sure the small group hasn’t gotten any closer. He smiles down at you as you look up at him as if you already know what he’s about to do as he leans in to place a quick kiss to your lips as his hands give yours a reassuring squeeze.

“Can we go to that frozen yogurt place up the street?” You ask when Harry pulls away giving you a nod while he lets go of one of your hands, keeping a firm grip on the other as he takes his spot back by your side blocking you from the street.

“What flavor are you going to get today?” He asks while turning to look over his shoulder, giving the men with their cameras pointing directly at you a harsh warning glare making both men slowly lower their cameras as they slow their pace so they aren’t too close behind the two of you.

“I have to see what the kids want when we get there but right now they’re telling me chocolate with rainbow sprinkles.” You answer with a smile as Harry puts his attention back on the sidewalk in front of him smiling at how excited you sound at the idea of your sweet treat.

“Rainbow sprinkles? No more chocolate chips and gummy bears?”

“Niall said that’s too much sugar.” You answer with a shrug making Harry let out a scoff as he drops your hand so he can drape his arm over you shoulders, pulling you into his side making you giggle at his obvious reaction to mentioning Niall.

“Since when does Niall care about your sugar intake?”

“Since he thinks you named our son after him.”

“Named our son-oh god.” Harry lets out a sigh as he brings his free hand up and runs it over his face. “James is a very common middle name so he’s lost his bloody mind if he thinks I named our son after him.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that next time I see him.” Harry rolls his eyes as you slide an arm around his middle, giving you a little squeeze as he does a quick look behind you so he can check that the small group of people with cameras took his warning and stayed a respectable distance away from the two of you.

“Oh I think they changed their mind.” Harry looks over at you as your hand rubs your belly. “Yeah they want chocolate with-gummy bears now.” Harry lets out a laugh as you lick your lips and he can practically see your mouth watering, normally he would make a joke about how you seem the happiest when talking about whatever food it is you’re craving at the moment but right now he can’t be bothered. He is too content with his arm securely wrapped around your shoulders making you snug against his side, the people with cameras a safe distance away and a smile on your face as your hand rests on top of your pregnancy bump. Harry finds himself smiling as the two of you continue down the sidewalk towards the frozen yogurt shop, enjoying the weather and what both of you know is one of your last moments of being able to go out for walks before you eventually get too uncomfortable doing much moving around the closer you get to your due date.

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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 3 months ago

Text

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

buff guy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Part 6 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy, third date!, reader goes to the gym, fluff, sexual innuendo

❥ A/N: I'll be going back to work this week so the parts may slow down a bit, just a heads up!

You wake up around nine thirty on Saturday morning, but you scroll on your phone in bed until ten. You get up, start your coffee as you get dressed. You pull out a three-piece workout outfit you bought online a couple months ago but have only worn a couple of times. It's in your favorite color, leggings and a sports bra with a cropped jacket, all the same pattern. You put it on, admiring your form in the mirror. You rearrange your breasts in the mirror so that they're pushed together more, and you zip up the jacket to under your chest, giving a perfect view of your cleavage.

You briefly wonder why you're doing this, but you know why.

You have a small coffee as you wait, scrolling through your phone until there's a knock at your door.

"Just a sec!" you yell, filling your coffee cup with water and leaving it in the sink. You grab your water bottle, slipping on your gym shoes before opening the door. "Hi!"

"Hey." He's wearing sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. His eyes glance up and down your form. "You look nice."

"You like it?" you ask, looking down at your outfit before giving a pose. He smiles softly.

"Yeah. It looks good on you." He reaches out but pauses, drawing his hand back. "Can... may I make a small adjustment?"

"Oh? To my outfit?" He nods. "Uh... sure."

He grunts, reaching forward and grabbing the zipper on your jacket, pulling it up until it reaches your collarbones. He pulls away, nodding.

"Better. You ready?"

You glance down at your now covered chest, then back at him.

"Uh, sure. I'm ready." He hums, then glances down at your feet.

"Your shoes are untied." You look down at them with him.

"Yeah, I know. I'll tie them when I get to the gym."

"Let me."

"I—"

He's already down on one knee, fiddling with your shoe laces. He ties them for you, not too tight, just snug enough that it's comfortable. He moves on to the other shoe and does the same. When he's done, he pulls back, admiring his work. He nods and stands, when you jab a finger into his chest.

"Stop doing whatever you want to me without asking."

"What?"

"You keep doing stuff without asking me how I would feel. Picking me up, tying my shoes. I get that you want to be a gentleman, but you need to ask me if I'm okay with you doing these things before you do them, okay? We still don't know each other that well yet, so you can't be doing whatever you want to me, got it?"

He slumps a bit, but nods.

"Okay. I'm sorry for doing those things without your permission."

"I forgive you. Just ask me next time, okay?" He nods again.

"Okay."

You tug at your jacket, closing your apartment door behind you.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

The gym he goes to is clearly more advanced than your gym. Your gym is full of casual exercisers, people who don't make the gym their life. Here, the gym seems to be the only thing that matters in these peoples' lives. The men are so muscular here, and the few women that there are have sculpted bodies. You imagine them all to be gym influencers on social media.

"What do you want to do?" he asks, hands in his hoodie pocket.

"Oh, um..." You glance around the gym, thinking. "Well, I like to do cardio before I lift weights, so I guess I'll go on the treadmill for a bit before using the machines."

"I'll join you," he offers, already guiding you to the treadmills.

"Oh! You don't have to! You can go do your own workout if you want."

"I invited you to the gym so I could work out with you, not alone." He steps up on a treadmill, holding out his hand for you. You take it, his hand keeping you steady as you get up on the treadmill next to his. "There's no point in coming here together if we don't work out together."

"Alright, alright. If you really want to work out together, we can." His hand is still holding yours. His thumb runs along the back of your hand for a moment, but before you can ask him what's wrong, he pulls his hand away, turning the treadmill on.

You prep yourself with some light stretches before you turn the machine on as well. You start slow, letting your heart rate build up before you get into a fast walk. You glance at Guy, who is walking at a faster speed. You chalk it up to him having longer legs and a longer stride than you, so you don't fret about it.

It's not until he starts running beside you that you become competitive. He bumps up the speed on the treadmill and falls into a jog. His speed is fast, but he makes it look so easy, like this is just a warm up for him. You huff, increasing the speed on your treadmill to match his, just to show him that he's not the only one who can do that.

It doesn't work out well. You sprint for twenty to thirty seconds before you're decreasing the speed again, huffing and puffing. You slow down to a walk again, catching your breath, and this asshole is still running without panting at all. It was slowly pissing you off, but you reminded yourself that your levels of fitness were different and that you shouldn't feel bad about the level you were at. You were still strong and healthy, and that's all that should matter.

Twenty minutes pass when you turn off the machine. He turns his off soon after, slowing to a jog and then a walk before stopping altogether. You make eye contact as you sip some water.

"What would you like to do next?" You hum.

"Weightlifting, but I'm not familiar with your gym." He points off into the distance.

"There's some Smith machines over by the free weights. We could do that if you want." You shrug.

"Sure, sounds good."

He leads you over to the machines he suggested, a bit more pep in his step. Maybe running gave him some more energy.

He goes to an end machine, next to the free weight benches, before turning to you.

"We could alternate between the two," he points to the free weights and the Smith machine. "You could be on one and I could be on another. Or I could spot you, if you'd like."

"Oh, I don't need a spotter," you wave him off. "I'm not gonna do anything crazy, but thank you for offering." He nods, waiting. You glance at the equipment before stepping towards the Smith machine. "I guess I'll start here."

"Alright. I'll pull a bench closer so we can work out next to each other."

"Okay," you reply, putting your water bottle down on the floor so you could set up. You raised the bar until it was shoulder height, moving to one side and adding some weight before adding that same amount of weight to the other side. You move back to the center of the bar, glancing over to see Guy place two large weights on a bench right beside your machine. You briefly wonder how much they weigh before you position yourself for squats.

You don't push yourself too hard. You do what you're used to, four sets of ten reps, increasing the weight by five or ten pounds once or twice to challenge yourself. You can feel eyes staring at you, but every time you glance over at Guy, he's looking away. You feel like you're going crazy as you reset the bar and take off the weights.

You opt for hip thrusts next, grabbing a foam bar to put over the metal bar you're using. You rearrange a nearby bench to sit in front of the bar, getting down on the ground after adding weights to the machine. You do some hip thrusts, four sets of ten again, only getting up once to add ten pounds to the bar. You can feel the strain in your ass when you're done, panting slightly after your last set. When you're finished, Guy shows up at your side.

"Can we trade for a bit?" he asks. You nod.

"Sure," you say, just a little bit breathless. You get up and move out of the way, letting him change the weights on the machine. You go to the bench he was using, taking your water bottle with you. You glance at the size of the weights he was using.

"One hundred pounds?!" you whisper in disbelief, glancing back at him. He's still adding weights to the bar. You swallow hard, humbly grabbing the five pound weights before returning to the bench.

You do some basic arm exercises: bicep curls, tricep extensions, just a couple you can think of. All the while, Guy has been doing hip thrusts and glancing at you every minute or so. You try to ignore him, to focus on your own workout, but his stare is so intense sometimes that you can't focus. He eventually finishes, getting up and stretching a bit. He walks towards you, leaning down.

"I'm going to run to the restroom really quick. You can have the machine back, if you want."

"Oh, okay. Thank you." He nods, walking away. You return your five pound weights and look at the weights he put on the Smith machine. You add up the weights together, slowly realizing that he was working out with more weight than you held on your entire body. You marvel at the idea of him being so strong before slowly removing each of the weights, putting them back in their proper place.

You decide to do dead lifts, adding weight to the bar before positioning yourself in front of it. You start your dead lifts, watching yourself in the wall-length mirror. You notice Guy show up when you're halfway through your routine, slowly approaching you. He's watching you, staring at you, more specifically at your lower half as you bend over. You finish your set, processing that he'd been staring at your ass the last couple of minutes of your workout. You reset the bar, turning around to face him, hands on your hips.

"You good?" you ask, a bit of sass in your tone. His eyes widen and dart away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I'm good. I was just, um, going to see what else you wanted to do." You shrug.

"I'm pretty much done. You can keep going and I can just watch, if you want." He clears his throat.

"I just wanted to do one last exercise on the Smith before we go."

"Okay." You step out of the way, holding out your hands and presenting the machine to him. He smiles, moving to change the weights on the machine. You stand to the side with your water bottle, watching him add weights, adding them up in your head. He's added your body weight to the machine plus thirty more pounds. He moves the bench, laying down on it before grabbing the bar, preparing to do a bench press. You watch in amazement and almost horror as he bench presses your weight and then some on the Smith machine. Your eyes are wide as you stare at him moving up and down smoothly, barely straining under the weight. You glanced around to see other people in the gym staring at him, especially the women. A couple giggle and whisper to each other as they look at him, probably talking about how hot he is or something like that. You feel a tad bit embarrassed. What were you doing with a man like this? He was so much more competent in the gym than you were; it was a wonder that he wanted to work out with you at all. Maybe he regretted it, you wondered as he finished his last set, resetting the bar and sitting up. You glance at him in the mirror, and he's staring at you intensely, eyes dark.

"I'm... gonna go fill up my water bottle real quick," you say, turning on your heel and walking to the water fountains.

You unzip your jacket, feeling hot as you fill up your water bottle. You pondered your relationship with Guy, if it would last, if it was even worth it as your water bottle filled up.

"Hey," you hear beside you and you stop filling your water bottle, glancing at the man that had approached you. He was tall, not as tall as Guy, but he still towered over you. He wasn't as buff as Guy either, but he still looked very strong. "I like your outfit."

You glanced down at yourself before giving him a smile.

"Oh, thank you! I got it online."

"It suits you well." He leans against the wall, smirking at you. "I've never seen you around here before; are you new?"

"Oh, yeah, kind of. I've never been here before."

"Well, welcome." He holds out his hand. "I'm Josh." You hesitantly take his hand and shake it.

"I'm Y/N."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." He pulls his hand away but still lingers. "You know, if we come to the gym at the same time, I could be your workout buddy. I could spot you and help you train."

"Oh! No, that's not necessary. I don't need a spotter."

"You don't? That sucks. I'd love to help you workout sometime."

You're about to ask him why when a large arm impedes on the space between you and this stranger, palm hitting the wall and making Josh jolt. You look up to see Guy, who is glaring daggers at the man you just met.

"Oh! Hey dude, I didn't know you were here today. You just get here, or...?"

"No," he grumbles, turning to you. He whispers a 'sorry' before zipping your jacket up again, covering your cleavage. He grabs your hand, turning to glare again at Josh. "We were leaving."

"Oh," he says, glancing between the two of you before raising his eyebrows. "Oooh. Got it, my bad dude, I didn't know she was off limits." He takes a step back but waves at you. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. Have a good day."

"What was that about?" you ask as Josh jogs off.

"Just an asshole that has no business talking to you." He looks back at you, his expression softening. "Would you like to get lunch now?"

You blink, giving a small shrug.

"Sure, we can."

"Are you mad at me?" Guy asks as you sit down with your food. You furrow your brow, taking a sip of your drink.

"No. Why would you think that?"

"Well, ever since we finished at the gym, you've been quiet. Was it because I zipped up your jacket again without asking you? Because I—"

"Guy." He stops, closing his mouth. "I'm not mad at you. I just... was thinking."

"About what?" he asks, taking a huge bite of his sandwich. You stare at your food, pouting before looking up at him.

"Don't scold me," you mumble. He shakes his head and you sigh. "I saw you lifting those weights earlier and I just felt so inadequate. I mean, there's plenty of other women more fit than I am, beautiful women with great personalities and perfect boobs and I just—"

"Stop." He puts his sandwich down, chewing the last bite before swallowing. "I don't want a woman like that. I want you. That's why I'm courting you; that's why I asked you to be my girlfriend. I want you, Y/N, nobody else. I want you because of who you are now, not who you could be. Okay?"

You curl into yourself, feeling your cheeks burn.

"Okay." You squirm a little. "I'm sorry for needing so much reassurance. You'll probably get annoyed with me, huh?"

"I can't promise that I'll never get annoyed with you, because anything is possible, but I promise I will never leave you or dislike you even if I'm annoyed." You swallow.

"Are you annoyed now?"

"No." He grabs his sandwich again, bringing it to his lips. "I honestly can't imagine ever being annoyed with you, but I suppose anything can happen."

"What would make you annoyed with me?" He shrugs after taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Maybe if you started dieting to lose weight, or if you broke up with me just because you thought I deserved someone different. Those things would bother me quite a bit."

You nod in understanding, sipping your drink again.

"What could I do that annoys you?" he asks. You hum.

"Well, if you try to control me, or tell me what to do when I didn't ask for your input. If you made mean comments about me or my body. If you did stuff like that, I would break up with you." He nods.

"I wasn't planning on doing any of that, but I'll keep that in mind." His shoe taps yours. "Don't let your sandwich get cold."

"I won't," you huff, sticking your tongue out. He chuckles as you grab your sandwich and take a bite, moaning happily. "Oh my god, it's so good."

"It is, isn't it? I love this place."

"How did you find it?"

"I was just looking for somewhere to eat for lunch one day and stumbled upon it. Now I come here pretty regularly."

"I can see why. This is delicious!"

He smiles, taking another bite. The both of you eat in silence for a little while.

"So," you begin, putting down your half-eaten sandwich and wiping your hands on a napkin, "what was the deal with that Josh guy? Do you hate him or something?"

He groans, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not fond of him. He's a huge flirt with all the women at the gym, and he ghosts them after he fucks them."

"How do you know all of this?"

"Because he brags about it to all the guys who will listen. He brags about sleeping with women at the gym and then never texting them back. He's an asshole." He takes another bite of his sandwich, huffing. "I don't want you exposed to a guy like that." You hum.

"And why did you zip up my jacket all day?"

He pauses as he goes in for another bite, glancing up at you. He closes his mouth, swallowing hard, glancing down at your chest before looking back in your eyes.

"I didn't want people to look at you." You raise your eyebrow.

"You mean my chest?" He hesitates but nods. You nod slowly. "I see. So you didn't want people looking at my titties?" He scoffs, coughing for a moment, covering his mouth.

"I guess, if you wanna say it like that." You smile, humming. You twist your mouth, reach for your zipper and slowly pull it down, exposing your cleavage. His eyes widen, flicking down to your chest and back to your face. He glances around the restaurant and you giggle.

"Nobody is looking but you, dingus. Nobody else cares."

"That's what you think. I've seen the way people look at you."

"Oh, really?" You take another bite of your sandwich as he nods. "And how do they look at me?"

"Like they wanna fuck you." You shake your head as he takes his last bite, picking up stray ingredients on his plate and eating them.

"You're crazy. Nobody wants to fuck me but you."

"If you can't see it, then you're blind." You scoff.

"Rude. The only person people were looking at today was you when you lifted all those weights." He scrunched up his face, shaking his head.

"Nobody was looking at me."

"Yes, they were. There were a couple of guys and girls looking at you. Bet the girls were thinking about asking for your number."

"Well, I wasn't paying attention to them, so they don't matter. All I was thinking about was you." You take another bite of your sandwich.

"Is that why you were lifting weights heavier than me?" you asked.

"Ah. So you did notice."

"Yeah, I did. What was that all about?" He wipes his mouth with a napkin, sighing deep.

"I wanted to impress you." You nod slowly, swallowing your food.

"Well, I was thoroughly impressed. And horrified. I thought the weights were gonna crush you."

"I wouldn't let that happen. I'm too strong."

"Yeah, no shit. I've seen that several times."

"Well..." He scratches at a spot on the table, not looking at you. "I wanted you to see it again."

You sigh, glancing at your sandwich.

"I was very impressed," you continue. "But I already knew you were strong when you picked me up at our last date."

"I know. But that was only temporary because you didn't like it. I wanted to show you that I could hold your weight for longer."

You hum, taking another bite.

"Then why did you use my weight for the hip thrusts?" you ask, glancing at him. You see him squirm in his seat, scratching at his jawline, avoiding eye contact. You squint at him, thinking, before your eyes widen and your mouth falls open.

"Oh my god. Oh my god!" You gasp, covering your mouth to hide your shocked smile. "Guy, you—oh my god, are you kidding me?!"

"I wanted to impress you," he whispered harshly, still not looking at you. You reach across the table and playfully slap his bicep.

"You bad boy!" you tease, shaking your head. "I can't believe you. Doing hip thrusts to impress me? Oh, you're naughty."

"Don't tease me," he grumbles, pressing his forehead against the table and sighing loudly. "I feel stupid."

"You're not stupid. Don't say that."

"I'm embarrassed."

"You're cute." He turns his head to look up at you with puppy-dog eyes.

"You think I'm cute?"

"Yes. I've told you this before, you silly goose." You finish your sandwich as he sits up straight, taking a deep breath.

"Y/N."

"Yeah?"

"When I take you home, can I kiss you?" You choke on your last bite, covering your mouth with your hand and coughing. He reaches across the table for you, but you hold up a hand to stop him.

"You—hack—you want to kiss me?!" He nods, eyes locked on you. You shake your head and laugh lightly. "Well, at least you asked instead of just doing it.

He pulls up in front of your apartment, opening the door for you to get out. He walks you up the stairs.

"I really enjoyed today," he tells you sincerely. You smile at him.

"I really liked today, too. Thank you for inviting me."

"Of course." He stops when he reaches the door with you. "I'd love to do this again sometime, if you'd like."

"I'd like that." He returns your smile, staring at you. You lean on one foot, tilting your head. "So, I guess you want that kiss now, huh?"

"If that's okay."

You giggle, pulling on his hoodie, coaxing him to go down one step so that his face is closer to yours. You cup his cheeks with both hands, smiling sweetly at him.

"You ready, handsome?" He swallows, licking his lips.

"Yeah."

You sigh, leaning in and puckering your lips before pressing them gently against his. His mouth is receptive to yours, letting you mold against him and kiss him sweetly. Your lips push and pull for a moment, his large hands coming to rest on your wrists, holding your hands against him. You give him one last kiss before pulling away, smiling at him. His eyes slowly open, hazier than before.

"Thank you," he whispers, drunk off of your lips. You rest your forehead against his, staring into his eyes.

"Next time we'll use tongue," you whisper back. He chuckles, turning his head to kiss your palm.

"I don't know if I can handle that yet."

"We don't need to rush," you reassure him. "I like the pace we've been going at. I appreciate you letting me take the lead on most things."

"You're welcome."

You pull away, patting your hand against his chest.

"Can I call you tonight?" he asks.

"Of course." He smiles wide.

"Cool." He clears his throat, stepping down. He gives a small wave, which you return. "Bye."

"Bye, Guy."

He takes the steps two at a time, jumping down the last three and landing on the concrete. You giggle as he practically skips to his car, giving you one last wave before he gets in, driving off.

You enter your apartment, doing a little dance as you make your way to the bathroom for a shower.

#chubby reader x buff guy

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1-800-local-slut · 1 month ago

Note

Hey bestie , I don't know if you've watched steven universe but I wanted to ask if you could please do a garnet inspired reader or pink diamond inspired reader for mark grayson . Imagine fusion happening between mark and reader . A whole new experience especially seeing a fusion dance .

Glowing Rock

Oooooo I love the way you think! Steven Universe used to be my shit fr, I used to watch that show day in day out like it was my job during COVID! I went the Pink Diamond route; I wasn't sure how I could write in a reader like Garnet because of her whole thing going on (I'm trying not to spoil it). Thank you for the request pookie, this is gonna be a short one!

I tried to capture the complexity of Pink Diamond and Greg here, she was very amused by Earth and by Greg as a human so I tried to sprinkle that in here as well :)

Warnings: none, Mark's a bad dancer, Mark is jelly for no reason, Amber mention because she's over hated, Mark has a therapist (he really needs one guys) and he goes Monday's, Wednesday's and Friday's for two hours, can you guys tell I love writing yearning?, also the fusion is light skinned and I'm sure y'all know why

Note: I honestly feel like Mark would need a female therapist, he seems to have issues listening to men especially men with authority (Cecil and after his dad he does not trust men with power) and I feel like a woman who reminds him of his mother would help him so well

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"So, how was your weekend?"

Taking a deep breath, Mark inhaled, and his breath quivered on exhale.

"Painful."

"And why was it painful?" Dr. Dubois asked, looking at Mark with gentle eyes.

"Well. I saw her again. We all went out." Mark rubbed his eyes before he decided to lay back on the couch. His feet went up over the armrest and his head resting on a pillow

"To the club?"

"Yes."

"And what happened at the club that caused you to feel your weekend was painful? Did you get beat up?" Part of therapy was that his therapist knew he was Invincible. Which was great because Mark isn't saving the world, she is. All the times he's felt like quitting, Dr. Dubois was right there to help him remember why he started.

"Not this Saturday, probably gonna happen next week though. But something happened. Well, nothing actually happened but something happened."

"To you?" She coaxed gently. This always happened, when it came to his personal feelings the good Dr. Dubois always had to pull it out of him. Especially regarding girls but the six hundred dollars his mom pays for three sessions a week make it worth it for her.

"To me."

"Why don't you tell me about it?"

Just like that, he was right there back in the club. Recounting the events of his weekend to Dr. Dubois whose gray hair looked like an onion swirled into a bun on her head.

Back in the club he snuck into with his group of friends that you talked them into. The flashing lights, smell of drinks and smoke, and the slimy feeling filling his chest when he recalled everything perfectly.

Watching you tear up the dance floor with Amber was slowly killing him with jealousy. Gnawing through his chest, clawing at his heart and under his skin with no remorse. Mark really didn't need to be jealous. You two were dancing, nothing severe. Rhythmically twirling around one another, like birds in a dance you had known all your lives.

It got worse from there. In sync, you moved with Amber. Like you two had done this time and time again. Like a shared secret only the two of you had and decided the bond between you two didn't need to be secret anymore. Before there was a light different from the flashing lights of the club. And then there was a tall dark skinned black woman with pink curls and dark magenta eyes, dark lips that belonged to Amber and a belly gem that belonged to you. Even your outfits seemed to have equally divided, your white top with Amber's dark green skirt which did little against the height of your fusion, exposing most of your thighs. Mark felt like he just watched his crush and ex-girlfriend (now close friend) make out on the dance floor. The one place he couldn't join.

The dancing didn't stop. She danced alone now, with hair moving freely and laughing to herself. It was as if happiness turned into a person and was dancing around the room. Having conversation with the two women inside who communicated gleefully with one another about how much fun you were having together.

Since you came to Earth, Mark had learned some things about you. You have a giant rock stuck in what would be your belly button if you had one that you pull weapons from and the glows randomly that enables you to transform into different forms.

He learned that you loved cats, you thought babies were so interesting, you loved painting, knitting, you looked so beautiful laughing, you had a few curls that always seemed to escape whatever style you put your hair in, but Mark loved those stray curls. They were free, untamable. Like you. You also had three older sisters but weren't on the best of terms with them right now.

You loved to dance. You don't need to eat, you don't need to sleep, or drink water, or use the bathroom. He's seen you do it, mimic the basic functions of humans. He watched you quickly learn that you have no desire to digest food after giving you a pickle and quickly watching you frown in disgust. And mimicking passing it seemed to upset you further. And while it was funny to explain to you that he doesn't use the bathroom because he enjoys it but because he has too, or he'll get a bladder infection, it killed him to see you uncomfortable your first time using a toilet. Ultimately you just...exist.

But who was Mark to judge, he doesn't need to breath or eat often if he doesn't feel like it. He more so does it out of habit, growing up human and needing breakfast regularly or he'd be hangry by 9:30 AM.

But even though you didn't like eating or drinking anything, you did love everything on Earth. The people, the sights and smell. Above all you loved music. No matter how fast or slow, you loved it. You told him, if you had a heart or soul then music would be ingrained in it. And it showed by your dancing.

"Why didn't you go dance with her?" Dr. Dubois interjected while squinting her eyes. As if Mark didn't ask himself that a thousand times over. Hell, he even talked himself up to it, but the club was closing, and it was time to go.

"I'm not a good dancer." He bit out.

"But you went to a club?" A moment of silence passed, Mark looking at the doctor wondering if she was making a joke from his pain like he so often does. The doctor on the other hand looked slightly proud of herself and let out a laugh at her own joke. Then she cleared her throat.

“I’m sure she would appreciate your efforts.”

Mark thought it over for a moment. The deep amusement you took at him was not at all flattering. And it wasn’t great that you laughed at quite a few of his attempts to be smooth. Since the GDA came across you wandering Earth, everything was amusing to you. As if you were a kid seeing the world for the first time. The world colored your face with wonder every day you were here.

“I don’t want to be laughed at. Anyways, we’re in the club and she looks nice.”

An understatement. Your light pink curls flew free as you danced with Amber, the gem in your stomach shimmered and your white top stuck to your slightly sweaty (he didn’t know you could sweat) brown skin, your bright pink eyes seemed to call him as if to say, “come to me”. Well before you two were fused together. Do you know how bad it hurt when you two didn't separate by the time you left, even staying fused until Amber had to pee once you returned to the dorms, and you refused to use a toilet again? Mark has met hundreds of alien women; he’s never been so down bad in his entire life. And he dated Amber.

“And by the time we left, I felt…weird. Clammy.”

"Do you think she and Amber have something going on?"

"No."

Dr. Dubois gentle eyes urged him to go further.

"Amber has her boyfriend. And you know Amber and I are over, I'm over her by now. I think I'm jealous."

"And why do you think that? What did you have to be jealous over?" She led, urging Mark to put the pieces together or she would do it.

"I am...jealous, because I want to have that connection with her. But I was too scared to do it." And she smiled like Mark just hit the jackpot while Mark frowned deeply at his own feelings. He had no right to be jealous. Do you even understand the concept of jealousy?

“Hmmmm. Mark, I want you to try something. The next time you’re all together, I want you to imagine it’s just the two of you. She looks human. She acts human enough. Try treating her like a normal human girl, instead of treating her as if she’s a glowing space rock.”

"Hm."

Dr. Dubois smiled at him and then flipped a page in her notebook, freckled nose scrunching as she read her handwriting from last Friday's session.

"Now, let's move on. Have you been doing your creative writing?" And he hasn't. So, he rolled over onto his side and turned his back to the question. This much discussing his feelings slightly soured his mood.

"And why not?"

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Turns out, Mark can get drunk. He never thought to try, he kind of just assumed it wouldn't work. But being half viltrumite didn't turn off the part of his brain that had feelings OR the parts of his brain that were susceptible to drugs and alcohol. Although his body was burning through it fast, rushing to 'heal' him. But he doesn't want to heal. Not now. Not when the seventeen beers he had were helping him dance with you.

Even though he danced a like an unattended fire hose, you didn't care. You didn't give a damn, even goofily mimicking his dance leaving you two to laugh like fools while you danced alone away from the others.

The sunset on the beach bathed your skin in a gorgeous glow, the sand beneath your bare feet barely bothered you while water crashed onto your feet from the tide rolling in, and the white sun dress you wore twisted around you with each movement. The rest of your friends somewhere behind you, and Mark followed you on an impromptu game of tag far down the beach. As your two got further down the beach, he was also leaving his inhibitions behind him. He could still hear the music from speaker and before he knew it you two were in some silly dance together.

You looked...did you even have angels where you came from? You looked like an angel. But in one move, one second it all changed.

You two brushed past each other, gracefully and then you were both gone.

How could Mark even describe this feeling? It was like his brain melted, then expanded with another's feelings in there. He was himself. He was Mark. But he was also you. You, with all your thoughts and feelings. His heart was beating for the both of you. His lungs expanded and shrunk for him and you. You were one and the same. He was Mark Grayson, Invincible, and you were you. You and him, he and you. Together.

In what he thought was a delusion of his lovesick brain, he opened his eyes that he didn't realize he had shut. He looked down at his still feet. His feet and hands that were a light skinned color with nails painted the same baby pink color yours were. The water washed over his feet, but it felt foreign. The sensations weren't the same to him anymore. Nothing felt the same to him anymore.

He was taller as well. Something was...missing. And he was really hoping it wasn't what he thought it was.

"Mark?"

That came from inside his head. You were in his head. And this was no delusion. His own mouth opened and said his own name with a voice that sounded perfectly male and female.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay, Mark?" You, or he, or whatever he should call himself (?) at this point sounded worried.

Was Mark okay? The feeling of pure love, acceptance and understanding in his chest, the quiet in his mind for once, was Mark okay? He felt warm but not from the inside. From his one human heart that was beating for the two of you. Were the overwhelming feelings he felt purely his alone?

"I think so."

Slowly he willed the feet to move but instead fell onto the ass he was sharing. His bottom was never so thick before, so this really was not a dream. Without his command, the right arm went into a pocket and pulled out two phones. One placed on the sand, yours went to open the camera app.

Eyes that weren't yours or Mark's filled the camera. Shorter, very dark pink curls dusted the shared shoulders unlike your long and full head of curls that usually took up more space than your head. Dark brown eyes matched with thick lips and long lashes filled the camera. A strong jaw with round, feminine features that you possessed mixed perfectly with Marks, and the eyes were slanted, another feature from Mark's face.

Was this what your babies would look like all grown up?

"I'm not sure I could carry a human-viltrumite-gem baby. That may destroy me." The thick lips opened in the reflection; a feeling of awe filled the chest you shared. Along with embarrassment.

"I didn't mean to say that outloud."

"You didn't. I hear your thoughts. I feel your feelings." Normally this would be too weird for him. But when your finally one with the woman you love and also half drunk, also suddenly look gender neutral, you have bigger issues to worry about-

"You love me?"

Then his chest felt like velcro being torn off sneakers. The soul you both shared was being forcefully torn in half. You were back, Mark was back and the two of you tumbled onto the sand.

"No!"

"You love me!" The gem-human (he was never fully sure what you were) tackled him in a hug onto the sand.

"I heard it, I heard it in your thoughts! I felt it in here." You whispered excitedly in his ear and placing your hand on his chest over his fast-beating heart.

"No no no, go back. What just happened? What was that?!" Now it was too weird. It lasted about 45 seconds but Mark's brain was his own again and what was missing between his legs was back.

"We fused Mark! And I'm sorry, it was a total accident but Mark! This is great, don't you see?" He pushed back from you and you followed him through the sand on your knees, scooting towards him.

"See what?" He cried in a panic, his own brain working overtime with the thousands of questions he had while he tried to gain enough distance from you to formulate a sentence.

"You love me the way I love you! We can be together!" Everything stopped again, but not because you turned into one person.

"You love me?" The light in your eyes was no longer so intense, and you pushed off your hands and sat down next to Mark, pulling your knees to your chest.

"I do." You nodded, affirmatively.

"And you...you want to be with me?"

"I do!"

Oh. So those feelings weren't his alone.

Waves crashed; the sky darker now as seagulls cawed far away. In the distance he heard your friends laughing around the bonfire. No words were said, but you seemed to understand. You scooted closer to him, head resting on his shoulder. Could you hear how calm his heart now was?

“Soooo do you love me?” You asked, looking up at him with sparkling eyes and a bit of hope nestled deep inside.

"You know I do."

"Maybe I want to hear you say it." A cheeky smile crossed your features, he just noticed that you have another dimple then the one he usually sees. And he's spent hours studying your face. Was this one new? He knows you can change your appearance. But then again, he's never been this close to you.

He remembered the love. The understanding he felt when you two were one in the same. Mark has had multiple girlfriends and has still never felt anything like that. He loved you before, after that feeling he accepted he was screwed. It was over for him. It was over for him, because he knew he'd spend the rest of his life, all thousands of years searching for that feeling. But he could only get that from you. He only wanted that from you.

For once he realized something: you were a human girl in a way. You look human, and Mark was treating you as an object. Unattainable, shiny but he loved you. You have feelings, just as strong as his. You both looked at one another, as if clearly seeing each other for the first time in a long time. He saw you as more than a space girl who he loved and was a little ditzy. You were a person. A person who loves him.

You came to Earth, you wanted to be a human girl. You wanted to be a normal girl. You have normal, human emotions. Who was Mark to deny you reciprocation of a feeling he certainly had for you as well because he perceived you as more?

"I love you."

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Mark, sighed but it was a sigh of happiness. For once, he was happy to talk about his feelings. He was thrilled to walk into Dr. Dubois's office. For once his weekend wasn't painful mentally, emotionally, or physically. He felt warm still from seeing you this morning. Turns out you can fuse at other times, as well as mimic some other human parts.

"Mr.Grayson?" He fell out of his memories of cuddling with you and laughing over how scared you got when he described how throwing up felt to you and he promised you he would try not too (although he can't really control it) and was pulled back into his reminder that he was waiting to see his therapist.

"Dr. Dubois will see you now."

Rising to his feet, he began the familiar path to the door he entered regularly. It was late Monday afternoon, and Mark spent the entire weekend as relaxed as he's been in a while. He couldn't stop smiling as he stopped a bank robbery on Sunday.

Another superhero left another therapists office, in their civilian identity while sniffling and the corresponding doctor patting her on the back in an attempt of comfort.

He opened the door, pulling the knob and floating into the office.

“Good morning!”

“Well, you’re in a good mood Mark. It’s good to see you. Have a seat.” She grinned, happy to see one of her younger clients full of joy. It was a rare sight these days.

He found his usual seat, and laid back down. Feet going of the arm rest, head resting on a pillow.

She opened her notebook, clicking her pen and peering at Mark over her round glasses. She could read him like a book, and should be able too considering how much time they spend together.

"Did you try treating her like a normal girl?"

"Uh huh." Mark nodded with an almost cartoonishly wide grin. For the first time in a long time feeling like the weight of his feelings wasn't crushing him. With a proud smile, she rested her chin on her elbow. She wanted to hear about his recent success, not just analyze it.

“So, how was your weekend?”

#black reader #x black reader #x reader #fem reader #multifandom account #requests open #mark grayson x black reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #invincible x black reader #steven universe #pink diamond #steven universe x invincible

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cherryberrycheol · 2 months ago

Text

Your Personal Caretaker | Choi Seungcheol | fluff

Pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

Summary: it’s a peaceful saturday morning and you wake up feeling sick (after a week of ignoring the symptoms and doing virtually nothing with it). seungcheol, who finally has time to not think about work, notices your state. being the caring partner he is, your husband is already on it and goes full ‘care’ mode before you’re even up

Word count: 2k

Genre/warnings: fluff, slice of life, established relationships, married couple, non-idol!seungcheol x non-idol!reader, reader is sick and seungcheol takes care of them, everyone is soft and happy no drama, domestic bliss at its finest, kkuma is there in the background and got some pats and compliments, seungcheol calls reader ‘pretty, baby, princess, silly girl’, i think i didn’t have any specifically descriptive words for appearance (let me know if you spot some), if i missed anything else let me know

A/N: if you hate being sick on your own then this fic is for you. I hate it myself, literally can’t operate on my own, need someone to think and make decisions for me. So it was a self-indulgent fantasy of what it would be like if Seungcheol was to take care of his partner when they don’t feel well and get too stressed to think on their own. Hope you like this piece of work as it’s the first one I’m posting for this account and in English too (⸝⸝º ^ º⸝⸝)

The text below isn’t proofread, proceed at your own discretion; if you see any mistakes I’m sorry, English isn’t my first language.

Masterlist

It’s a quiet Saturday morning. Seungcheol is lying splayed out on the sofa in the living room, enjoying every moment of this unrushed ecstasy. He’s been so busy with everything at work this past week, it being the end of the month with tie outs needed to be done and piles on piles of reports on end. He felt like he could give out any moment by Friday. But now that Saturday came and tranquility settled in he couldn’t get enough of this unwinding. No thought in his head, he just scrolled through his social media, chuckling at some silly no brainer stuff people posted there.

He woke up earlier than you today. Which he always does but usually on the weekends he likes to sleep in and stay in bed together for longer. Not today. Today he took it upon himself to bring you breakfast in bed. Despite having a devilish week himself he couldn’t help but notice that you were off yesterday when he came home and finally had the mental capacity to fully pay attention. So, spurred on by his own urge to take care of you today, he woke up as if it was any other work day. He had time to do so much stuff, like walking and feeding Kkuma, going for a jog to the gym nearby and back, taking a shower and having a brief breakfast himself. And you were still yet to wake up. Seungcheol knows that unsupervised you can stay in bed till past lunchtime without a blink of an eye. He wasn’t going to let you, but just another hour wouldn’t hurt. You looked so worn out after all.

After a couple more minutes of aimless doom scrolling he finds a breakfast recipe that he thinks he can manage to cook and goes to the kitchen to check out the ingredients, improvising with replacing some of them with those he currently has on hand. Seungcheol meticulously follows the instructions, really doing his best not to mess this up.

As he cooks he can’t seem to get away from this nagging uncomfortable feeling in his chest. A hunch that he knows what’s wrong. You two have been married for the past three years, dating for three more, and he knows you too well not to suspect that you’re probably falling sick. That’s why he’s cooking you a chicken noodle soup even though he knows you hate soups for breakfast for whatever reason. You always say that soups aren’t breakfast food but lunch. Seungcheol always smiles and lets you be with your silly cute opinions on food.

It’s when Kkuma suddenly lets out a quiet woof and pitter-patters to the closed bedroom door to sniff underneath that he knows you’re awake and probably out of bed. He feels slightly dissatisfied that he didn’t time things better to be the one to wake you up with cuddles and kisses but oh well, he’s going to have to deal with it.

The door opens and you step out of the dark bedroom where you didn’t even care to open the night blinds on the window. You’re wrapped in a blanket as if it’s a burrito-cape. You squint in the sunlight that hits you right in the eye with a small groan like a true night creature that hasn’t seen the light of day for years even though it’s only been one night. Kkuma wags her tail happily when she sees you stepping outside and pants, her pink tongue out. You look down at her and chuckle before crouching to ruffle her fur and give her pats and compliments.

“Good morning, pretty,” Seungcheol calls out from the kitchen and you stand up feeling as your head spins slightly and vision darkens for a moment. You just stand in place before walking over, enticed by the smell of food. You feel weak but still hungry, you’re definitely falling sick. “Did you sleep well? I wanted to wake you up myself but you beat me to it,” your husband glances up at your adorable disheveled state as you walk into the kitchen, still sleepy and blinking lazily. He assesses your state and can’t help a tinge of worry from emerging at the sight of your slightly pale face and silence. “Baby, you should go lie down if you’re feeling unwell.”

You let out a short whine of response and wrap your arms around Seungcheol, clinging to him from behind. He’s so much warmer than you even though it’s you who’s wrapped in the blanket. The heat of his body seeps through his oversized t-shirt and you sigh, shivering slightly. Seungcheol feels you shiver and frowns in concern. “Baby,” he finally turns off the stove as the soup he was cooking is done. Seungcheol eases your hold on him just enough to turn in your arms and face you, his arms come snaking around your shoulders, pulling you even closer. He brushes your hair off your face, tucking the strands behind your ears before he presses his palm to your forehead, lips pursed in focus. “You need to take your temperature…” he murmurs, turning serious and then presses his lips to where his palm just rested on your forehead. Seungcheol hums to himself in some sort of confirmation that sounds like ‘I knew it’ and leans away just enough to look down at you. “Go lay down on the couch, baby, I’ll bring the thermometer and then you’ll eat chicken soup that I cooked for you.”

”I don’t eat soup for breakfast, Cheol,” you protest albeit weakly. You know that you’re falling sick and it’s really not the time to be arguing Seungcheol. The man is going to take a week off if he needs to just to take care of you because he knows how helpless and small any sickness makes you feel. “Don’t argue, princess, just go lie down,” he insists, turning you around and pushing gently to go take the couch. You oblige and he goes to retrieve the thermometer. When he returns, he’s holding it in his palms to warm up so you don’t need to feel the cold thing against your skin.

While you take the temperature, lying down, eyes closed, shivering and feeling like you could drift off to sleep any second, Seungcheol goes over to the kitchen to pour you some soup in a bowl. By the time he returns and sets the bowl on the wooden coffee table by the couch, you’re staring at the thermometer with an increasingly helpless expression. “37.6C,” you mumble quietly when your husband sits down beside you, moving the blanket and your legs over his lap. He tucks you in better and helps sit up. “How do you feel?” He asks, picking up the bowl of chicken noodle soup and a spoon.

You list off the symptoms that you‘ve been noticing but ignored all this week while Seungcheol didn’t have the time to notice either, both of you have been busy with work this week. The man already makes a mental list of all the meds and other things he’s going to make you do all week to nurture you back to health. “Silly girl, how many times do I have to tell you that you shouldn’t ignore the signs? Tell me. If you feel even a slightest bit unwell, baby. I know you hate everything to do with being sick, I’ll always take care of you,” he says and brings the spoonful of soup to your lips. You let him feed you, feeling like a child being gently scolded. “I know. But you were so busy this week, I didn’t want to add on top of that,” you mumble guiltily. Seungcheol has been getting less sleep and coming home later with all the end of the month finalisations at work. Besides, you try to do some stuff yourself like drinking more hot tea. You tell him that and feel even more embarrassed and guilty under his gaze. Your face heats up and you avoid his eyes only to hear him sigh defeatedly and continue feeding you.

“You think I wouldn’t have gladly excused myself from work for this week if you told me you were falling sick, baby?” He asks suddenly, voice warm and caring. A little amused. “You could’ve given me such a great excuse just to leave the office and not show up there for a week straight. I would’ve worked from home with you,” Seungcheol’s voice becomes a little whiny and complaining, he sighs and pouts. You blink at him, stopping mid-chew because you can’t comprehend how your husband can be so serious and caring but also so childishly having tiny grudges against you for not giving him an excuse to work from home.

“Now you have an excuse to stay at home and not work at all next week,” you counter, giving him a different advantage. “Now I have to work hard to make you healthy again,” Seungcheol protests with a louder whine. “It’s still work,” the man mumbles and feeds you another spoonful. “I don’t mind though. I love taking care of you, princess,” your husband adds in a cooing tone, his expression morphs into one of unconditional love and adoration. When you finish the soup bowl he stands up to go wash it. You just stay on the couch wrapped up in the blanket, Kkuma curled up somewhere at your feet. It’s peaceful and your heart feels more at ease knowing you won’t have to deal with this sickness alone. It’s been like this since childhood. Your mom always took care of you whenever you would fall sick for as long as you can remember. Feeling unwell even the slightest bit always makes you uneasy and anxious. It doesn’t help that you’re an overthinker. As soon as something is off it’s like your brain goes into this damsel in distress mode or rather ‘I’m a baby help me’ mode.

Seungcheol was perplexed when he first found out you’re absolutely unable to take it on your own. It was an accidental discovery over the phone when he called you to see if you’d be up for a date but in the middle of telling him that you have fallen sick you suddenly busted out with tears. So, being the provider and caregiver he is, it didn’t take him long to figure out how to use it to his advantage when you first started dating. The man saw it as a chance and dashed to take it. Caring for you and comforting you until you get well again and turn into this ‘I don’t need anyone’s help’ girl that most people know you as. In your defence, depending on Seungcheol has always been an easy and effortless experience.

You’re almost falling asleep when Seungcheol returns to the couch, removes the back pillows and climbs to lie down beside you, making you unwrap the blanket and let him in. You don’t protest. “Sleep it off, baby. We’ll see if it goes past 38C after you wake up and whether you need to take a pyretic,” he tells you, voice soft as he wraps his arms around you and tucks you into his chest, his lips pressing gentle kisses at the crown of your head. “You’ll be alright. I’ll take care of you, princess, don’t worry and just sleep.”

You sigh, his familiar scent engulfs you with his warmth as he cuddles you close on the couch, Kkuma still resting somewhere at your feet, content that her owners are at home and close by her side. “I love you, Cheol,” you murmur, sound muffled into his chest. You could try and tell him this a hundred times a day all year round and it wouldn’t be enough to express how much he means to you. Seungcheol smiles, his hand threading through your hair as he soothes you to sleep. He can feel his heart swell at the simple words. “I love you too, princess. Just rest and don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got you,” his lips press to the top of your head once again and he inhales your peach and orchid shampoo scent. He feels you relax into his arms as you drift off back to sleep. It’s going to be a long week but he will do everything to help you recover as comfortably as he can. “My sweet helpless baby,” he whispers a chuckle and sighs, listening to your even breaths.

*.(๓•͙ ˕ •͙๓).* like + reblog + comment if you enjoyed your time reading this!

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leashybebes · 6 months ago

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Congrats on the increased follower count, you deserve it after exes detriments (sorry, I can’t remember the official name) but here’s a prompt for you:

Buck and Tommy struggle to find time in their schedules to see each other

aww, thank you so much! 💛💛 and thanks for the prompt!

Buck knows he should be getting some rest. But if he has to lie sleepless in his bunk and listen to Chim snore much longer, he's going to do something drastic. He creeps out of the bunk room, shoots off a text, and makes his way up to the roof. He's barely sat down by the time his phone rings.

"Hi," he says, and he feels breathless and eager all over again. Still.

"Did you seriously just 'u up?' me, Evan? Aren't you at work?"

"Hey, it was a sincere question. You can tell by the lack of the eggplant emoji."

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah," Buck agrees easily. "I miss you. And your eggplant."

"Evan!" Tommy's so good at sounding scandalized and delighted all at once and Buck grins.

"What are you doing after your shift on Tuesday?"

"Errands, then therapy, then sleep."

"Gotcha. I'm working Wednesday."

"Me too. Thursday?" Tommy suggests.

"Looking after Jee," Buck says, and while he's never going to regret time spent with his niece, this is starting to get ridiculous. "They should be picking her up by eight?"

"Drinks with the team at nine," Tommy says, and he does sound regretful, but part of Tommy working on himself is trying to let himself have more meaningful connections, both in quantity and depth, so Buck's not about to try talking him out of that. "And you're working Friday."

"Yeah. And you have that private flying lesson Saturday, right?"

"Yeah. Should be done mid afternoon if that's any good?"

Buck rubs his hand over his face. "Video call with Eddie and Chris at four, and then I'm supposed to be going for dinner at Maddie's."

"Ah."

"I could come over after?"

"I'd need to leave before seven for my Sunday shift."

"Honestly, at this point, I'll take it."

"Evan."

Buck sighs. "I know, I know."

They're dating now, is the thing. Not going on a couple of dates and then weaving their lives together without discussing it until it blows up in their faces. Actually dating.

"I could - I could tell them. You could come with me."

There's a long, heavy silence.

"I don't think I'm ready for that."

Because they're also keeping it to themselves for now. They both want to see where it goes without any outside influence, to see what it is they settle into when it's just them. It's honestly - it's kind of fun, having this little secret to themselves, going further afield than they usually would for dates, trying new places and new things. But it can't go on forever, and although he's only referred to it jokingly, Buck knows Tommy's worried what people will think - that he screwed up too bad, that they'll hate him, that they'll tell Buck he's an idiot to give him a second chance. Buck's pretty sure that's not on the cards - Maddie might go a little overprotective big sister with a side of pregnancy hormones, but he thinks that'll be it. And that's nothing they can't handle.

"Hey," he says. "Can we talk about this sometime? Check in, see where we're at?"

"Yeah," Tommy promises. "Of course."

"Okay. Monday, then?"

"Monday," Tommy agrees. "My neighbour's been raving about this seafood restaurant in Santa Barbara if you're up for a bit of a drive?"

"Sounds good. Monday's so far away, though," Buck laments.

"I can hear the pout from here, Evan," Tommy teases.

"Well," Buck says, letting his voice drop deliberately into a tone that never fails to make Tommy a bit wild. "You'll just have to buy me a nice meal and kiss it better, huh?"

"God, Evan - "

"I'm off Tuesday too. Maybe we find a nice little bed and breakfast and make a night of it? I can show you just how you how much I've missed - "

He hears the door open behind him and his mouth snaps shut. "Gotta go. Call you later."

Tommy lets out a huff of laughter. "Bye, Evan. Be safe."

"You too," Buck says, as Bobby drops into the chair next to his.

"Hey, Cap."

"Couldn't sleep?"

"With Chim sawing logs one bunk over? I'm amazed anybody can."

"You don't normally struggle."

Buck shrugs, tries not to meet Bobby's eye. Everyone used to tease him about his Tommy-face, his Tommy-voice, his Tommy-pout, and for all they're taking it slow - and they are - Buck knows he's right back there. If Eddie wasn't in Texas, he's pretty sure their secret would have lasted a week, and Bobby's the next best thing when it comes to reading Buck with a glance.

"You doing okay?" Bobby asks.

"Yep! Real good."

"Hm. Apropos of nothing at all, Kaur from B shift is looking for cover. You interested in Friday off in exchange for a six to six Saturday?"

"Yes! I mean. Yeah, I can do that."

Bobby shoots him an amused look. "Okay, then. Happy for you, kid."

Buck grins up at the dark sky. He can push his call with Chris and Eddie a little later, and still make it on time for dinner with Maddie and Chim.

"You coming back inside?"

"In a minute," Buck says. "Just gotta make a call."

"Uh-huh. Tell him hi from me if you like," Bobby offers, patting Buck's shoulder as he goes.

#bucktommy #my writing #prompt fill

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ryewwww · 1 year ago

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Bully gojo and shy oc !! Who always torments you and humiliates you. Makes you do all his works and you do out of fear. You don't question him and feels smug . He tells how he hates you( but actually he likes her a lot but he doesn't confess because ypu keep rejecting every guy so he thinks you don't accept him either) and tells you that you are just a burden on this earth but then you get into an accident and don't come to scl for a week. Gojo doesn't know what happened to you and can't find out cuz you don't have frnds either. After a week you come to schl with a bandage to your head and a fracture sling on your arm. He gets worried and clings onto you and tou lash out for the first time telling him that he got what he wanted and he could be happy now. He gets angry and kidnaps you and fucks you🙃

-> omfg YES! gojo is such a bully

-> sorry for any mistakes!

⚠️: NON CON, Kidnapping, Mean!Gojo, physically, mental and emotional abuse, manhandling, bullying, biting, groping, size difference

-> THIS IS REALLY DARK AND FUCKED UP PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK !

All you’ve ever done is mind your own business

Sure, you don’t have many friends but that doesn’t really bother you

You enjoy being independent. Your grades are high in the air, your part time job in your school is more than enough for you to live comfortably. (In this universe, inflation doesn’t exist)

You don’t really talk to anyone, not even family. Whole bunch of drama happened, and they were toxic so you ended up leaving them for university.

Everything seemed to be going as planned until a 6’4 menace walked into your life.

Gojo Satoru was your typical frat boy and the star of the university’s basketball team.

Some may even say the Golden Boy of your university. He was smart, athletic, had a good reputation among the professors and just with people in general. Not to mention, he was ridiculously handsome. Man literally had girls fighting over him.

You’ve seen him in the hallways but never actually interacted with him. He was in a few of your classes but luckily, you guys never were put together in a group.

Until today. Your prof is running a lab and gathered the smartest students he knows to do it for him. It’s kind of a two in one for him, the lab gets complete and you guys gain some experience.

Anyways, the group consists of you, Satoru and his friend Suguru and some other nerdy people

Now unlike Gojo, you already sorta knew Geto. He was really friendly and kind towards you so you were kind of excited to be working with him.

A few days into the lab and Gojo has a sudden fixation with you. Well he always had, but this lab is letting him work closely with you and it’s making his obsession worse.

You’re stupid if you think that Gojo Satoru hasn’t kept on eye out for you. Every time you walk by him in the halls, he gets a hard on just by catching a whiff of you. The cute skirts and the pastel closet you have drives him over the fucking edge.

It takes every cell in his body to resist the urge of grabbing ur wrist, pulling u into the janitors closet and fucking you absolutely dumb and stupid.

You look so cute and innocent, like a little bunny. And god, you are just an easy target to corrupt.

So, Gojo plans a party. A party on the following Saturday after your lab is complete because he knows that you’ll be free.

His plan is to get you to come, keep you company, get you a little hammered, then get a feel of your pussy. Simple plan.

It’s now up to Geto to get you to come to this party. And of course, for his best friend, he’s 100% on board with his plan.

All goes well in the lab and in your final days of completing the report, Geto asked the big question.

“Satoru and I are throwing a party tomorrow. If you’re free, we’d love for you to come. You can bring anyone you want.”

You blush. Party? Your first party? Your brain breaks out in celebration because as much as you liked to spend your weekend relaxing, you also have a severe case of fomo. (Fear of missing out)

Your eyes lit up, saying yes on the spot in excitement. The following day, you went back to your dorm and tore your closet apart, looking for a nice dress. You settled for a blue, body con, summer dress. (despite it not being a party dress but who gives af bc it’s summer)

The next night, you got all dolled up for the party. You made arrangements with Geto to pick you up. He made it on time, looking handsome in his all black fit with his hair in a bun.

You were excited… for nothing.

There was a party (a lit one), but you realized a little too late that your social skills were next to non existent. The whole time, you felt out of place. So you stood in the corner, drink in hand and watched others dance and interact with each other.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

You turn your head only to be faced with a bright blue eyed man, the one and only Gojo Satoru.

“I guess partying is not my thing.”

“Oh come on, come with me.”

He grabbed your hand and headed towards the beer pong table

You and Gojo were a team and surprisingly you two worked perfectly together

The alcohol in your system made you flush, and you found yourself loosening up a bit and having a bit of fun.

Gojo’s plan seemingly was rolling out perfectly. You were a bit drunk, so he took you back to his room to “sober up” (but it was just an excuse to get u alone so he can fuck u but u don’t know that)

Now listen, Gojo got rizz alright. So imagine the look on his face when he went in to kiss you and you slapped him so hard, his face turned the other way.

“I’m not some whore you can use for tonight. I was genuinely having a good time with you, I don’t know why you had to make it sexual.”

You felt like crying. Is this what all guys think about?? Sex?

You get off the bed and head towards the door before you’re pulled back and thrown on the bed

“Satoru, stop! I want to go home.”

And just like how you did with him, he slapped you. Much, much harder.

He didn’t say anything, he just had this look in his eyes that could honestly kill. He took a hold of your wrist with one hand and let his other roam and touch your body.

He pulled your dress up, revealing the lacy, white, underwear you wore. You were a teensy bit wet, not because of him but maybe the alcohol? Or his best friend?

You don’t know, but Gojo thought the wet spot was because of him.

“Tch, saying you don’t wanna hook up but you’re fucking wet f’me.”

He pulled you closer to the head board, reaching out to his night stand and pulling out,,,, cuffs?

“Wait wait wait wait!” You say in a panic. You squirm to get your wrist free but once you feel the metal snake around your wrists and the click afterwards, you were doomed.

Your dress was ripped off by him. Your panty was somewhere on the ground and he easily took off your bra by doing the same thing he did with your dress. You laid nude under him, against your will.

As you can imagine, the night went terribly for you. You weren’t a virgin but it had been a while since you had sex (all the way back in high school) and really it was your first time with someone so experienced.

The next morning, you woke up with him cuddling you from behind while his lanky legs were intertwined with yours

You somehow managed to escape his grip and sneak out of the house before anyone could notice. You did have work, but decided to call in because of… well for obvious reasons.

On Monday, you dreaded to go to school. But with midterms coming around the corner, you couldn’t afford to miss a lecture. You dressed in baggy clothes and took a different route to class to avoid Satoru.

The day was going alright until you had to go to the library to pick out a few books to help you on an assignment.

While you were reaching on your tippy toes, someone behind you grabbed the book which made you quickly turn around. Your eyes meet his bright, blue eyes.

“You’re avoiding me now?”

The anger that overcame you in that moment was indescribable. You wanted to scream at him, hit him, threaten him or somehow bring him down, but you couldn’t.

“Did I fuck you mute? Answer me.”

You took a deep breath in and said, “leave me alone”

“Why? What, you think you’re too good for me? That I don’t have enough worth to fuck you? Is that what it is?”

He grabbed your cheeks with one hand and squished them together, pushing you back against the bookshelf in the process. He was holding you so hard, you couldn’t move.

“Listen to me, you slut. Don’t get our roles mixed here. You’re literally a piece of shit next to me. You hold no value in this world. If you died, no one would even think twice about it because no one gives a flying fuck about you. You think you’re soooo fucking special or something. You think you’re too good for everyone. Well you’re not. You’re just a broke whore, with no friends, no family, no hobby— nothing.”

He roughly let’s go of your face that you nearly fall to the floor. You tried your best but couldn’t help but cry at his words. Gojo swings off his backpack, grabs a note package and hands it to you.

“This assignment is due tomorrow at noon. I haven’t gotten the chance to start it because of basketball. So you’re going to do it for me cause you’re a worthless, bunny that has nothing else to do after school hours. And before you think about handing in something stupid, take a look at this.”

He pulls out his phone and in a matter of 10 seconds, you felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach.

A video. Of you. Getting fucked by the Gojo Satoru. It’s evident that you’re crying but it’s easy to cover it up with an “excuse”. Your face held a horrified expression.

“P-please, delete that! Please, I’ll do it but please just- just delete the video please!”

“No, not until that assignment is handed in and I have to get 100% on it. If it isn’t handed in or I don’t receive 100%, this will be leaked to everyone in a matter of minutes. I’ll post this shit everywhere with your full name on it, got it?”

You felt like crying and throwing up at the same time. This felt worse than a nightmare. This felt worse than dying even. “Okay, I’ll try my best but I don’t know if I can get-”

“If you don’t get 100 on this assignment, I’m leaking it. I don’t give a shit. I already showed Suguru— sick bastard got off to it, and I’m sure many more will too if you don’t score 100.”

He picks up his backpack and leaves while you stood in distraught. The following night, after work, you immediately started on his assignment. You saw the assignment date and it was assigned 3 weeks ago. He wants you to do 3 weeks of work in 15 hours.

Somehow, you pulled through the night. Researching the best you can on the internet and trying to make it as best as you possibly could. You were able to send him the file at 11:30am so he could skim through it and hand it in.

You ended up leaving early for the day so you could go home and get some sleep. When you woke up the next morning, your nearly dead phone kept ringing over and over.

You pick it up and see hundreds of notifications on various social media’s and a few iMessages

Your thumb clicked on one of the iMessage notifications and there was Satoru’s name with the following message:

“I told you, only 100%”

Below the message was an image of his mark

A 98%

You swipe off of iMessage and open Instagram and boom

Hundreds of new follower requests, numerous dms and clicking of Gojo Satoru’s story, was the video of him blowing your back.

You checked Snapchat and there it was on his story too. You wanted to die. You wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself alive than live another day in this situation.

Later that day, you had received an email from the dean’s office regarding a “very sensitive and confidential” meeting that would be taking place tomorrow.

You had an idea of what it might be about but hope and prayed to god that it wasn’t what you were thinking.

But to your luck, this meeting was regarding your sex tape and how there is no longer a spot for you on the dean’s list or team.

Your whole world was crumbling apart. You spent your whole life to get to where you are today, only for him to ruin it in a matter of 12 hours.

You left the building slowly, still deeply thinking about what you could’ve done to prevent this. How stupid you are to go to that party and slap the Gojo Satoru.

“Why is this happening to me?”

All of a sudden, everything goes black.

You wake up in a hospital. Your head felt heavy and your arms was twitching. You look around and see… no one. The nurse catches a glimpse of your eyes and quickly walks in to check on you.

She explains that you were in an accident and that they tried to get in contact with an emergency contact but you hadn’t stated anyone. You stayed at the hospital overnight so they can monitor your brain activity and fortunately they were able to discharge you the next morning.

You took the rest of the week off from school and Gojo Satoru was losing his mind. He had spammed called you from various numbers but you weren’t answering your phone at all. He went from his usual mean insults to angry insults to pleading for a response back.

He doesn’t see you until Monday, with a bandage around your head and your arm in a cast which is also in a sling. He nearly runs to you, wanting nothing but to embrace you.

And he does. Holds onto you tightly, inhaling your shampoo until you knee his in the balls.

He immediately drops down and you completely lose your cool. “Don’t fucking touch me! I hate you! You ruined my life! You’re not allowed to touch me after you forced me to have sex with you and shared the video with the entire campus! You got what you wanted Satoru! You stole everything from me! Broke my entire world, burned my hard work down! Made me feel worthless! And now you want to act all concerned?! I hope you rot in hell!”

You ended up going home for the day, otherwise another headache would’ve set in. You took a quick lap before getting up and getting ready for work because those hospital bills weren’t going to pay themselves.

You had the closing shift and although working with one hand was quite the challenge, you desperately needed the money.

After closing up, the walk to your apartment is about 10 minutes away. Everything was going fine until a car quickly pulled up next to you, two men sprung out and shoved you into the car before you even had the chance to react.

One of them had his hand over your mouth while the other held your legs together.

You were blindfolded and tied in the car and after a while the car came to a stop and you were carried out.

You were thrown on the floor and when the blindfold was removed, you were met with his eyes again.

You immediately started crying. You were afraid and quite frankly exhausted of everything that’s happened over the last week.

“Please. I’m sorry. Just let me go. I’ll never ever bother you again. I’m sorry.”

You plead and beg but you hear his belt unbuckling. “Please! Please, I beg you Satoru! I’m sorry! I can’t- I can’t do it again please!”

You were left unheard. He threw you on the bed and tied your limbs to the bed. One of your arms was already in extreme pain and the other arm was starting to hurt too because of how tightly he tied you.

Every ounce of hope drained from your body when you felt his cock push into you. He pushed your head into the mattress and fucked you hard, like there was no tomorrow. Your tears soaked the mattress. Sweat, tears and snot covering your puffing face.

Satoru went on for hours. Abs glistening in sweat, his arm veins popping out because of how hard he was holding you. Not to mention his cock was coated with loads of cum.

You were passed out by the time he finished with you. Your body shaking on its on, cum dripping out your cunt and marks/bruises left all over your soft skin.

Hopefully his bunny learned her lesson.

#tw: dark fic #tw: noncon #gojou satoru x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk smut #bully!gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut

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marvelobsessed134 · 11 months ago

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The milf nextdoor

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Milf!Reader

Warnings: smut, praise, stereotypical porno tropes, reader is a milf, reader has a daughter and ex husband, rough sex, oral (m & f receiving)

Summary: you need help with fixing your broken AC. Good thing your new neighbor is more than happy to help.

Bucky thought he was hallucinating when he saw you carrying boxes into your new house. Well, it was new to you the man who lived there before you was always so fucking grumpy all the time so you moving in was a very good change. And god was he thankful to find out that you were divorced.

Okay…so maybe he has been a bit of a perv and watched you through your window as you get dressed. The brunette noticed how you wore sexy lingerie underneath your clothes and a slight streak of jealousy went right through him. Were you wearing those for someone else or for yourself?

He’d watch as you wore tight shirts and short shorts in the summer and sometimes when it was really hot you would get in a bikini top and run around in the sprinklers with your daughter. Obviously even though it was a very innocent moment, he always couldn’t help how you looked with the water spraying on you and the bikini top that barely contained your breasts.

And on one fateful Saturday where your ex husband picked up your daughter for a weekend the AC broke. You were so pissed since you planned to read and relax. But you can’t when the AC is fucking broken.

You knew your nextdoor neighbor was pretty handy so you decided to go over and ask if he could help. You found him pretty sexy too. Bucky got hard as soon as he answered the door and saw you in a tight cropped T-shirt and those daisy dukes. “Hey, sorry to bother you but my AC is broken do you think you could help me?” Your voice was soft and hopeful.

“Yeah of course! Let me get my tools.” He went into his garage and grabbed his tool bag before following you into your house. You showed him the broken appliance and he said he’d get it done in a span of 20 minutes.

You decided to go into the kitchen and wash some dishes as well as get a glass of cold water. 20 minutes goes by fast and Bucky finds his way into the kitchen to find you sitting on the counter drinking water.

“It’s fixed, should kick on in a few seconds.” The brunette says. You slip off from the counter and walk up to him, “Thank you so much! How much do you want me to pay you? I don’t want to have you do this labor for free.”

That gave your neighbor a brilliant idea a slight smirk appears on his face as his hand finds your ass and squeezes it, moving you closer to him, “I think there’s one way you can pay me.” His voice was low and gravelly, you felt his bulge against your front.

“Oh Bucky…” your voice comes out breathily.

“Unless…” he takes a strand of your hair, “there’s someone else?”

“No! No. There’s no one else…I’m single.”

“Then what do you say baby? You gonna pay me for all my hard work?” He caressed your chin.

“Yes Bucky.” You comply.

“Good girl.” You got down on your knees and unbuckle his jeans as he pulled off his shirt. Your eyes widened at the size of the bulge in his boxers and he smirks cockily while you pull them down and get shocked by the size of his cock. You take him in your hand and jerk him off a couple times making him groan before putting him in your mouth.

You looked up at him as you suck him off, taking him deep in your throat, clutching his bare thighs. He grabbed your hair and helped control your movements. “Holy fuck you look so good with my cock down your throat.”

You continued to take him in your mouth until he spilt his hot seed down your throat. You pulled off of him and opened your mouth to show that you swallowed it all.

“Jesus Christ you’re beautiful. Stand up for me baby.” You complied, standing up as he immediately took your mouth by his, kissing you passionately. You moaned into his mouth as he backed you up against the kitchen island. His hands groped your tits through your shirt before lifting it over your head revealing your black lace bra underneath.

“Fuck. You just wear this around the house?” He asked as he groped your bra clad breasts.

You shrugged, “I like to feel sexy even when I have a kid running around.”

“I’d like to give you another kid.” Bucky muttered before kissing your neck, biting and sucking making you moan. The brunette reached behind you and unclasped your bra, pulling it off and half hazardly tossed it across the room.

He tweaked and toyed with your nipples before pulling one into his mouth sucking and biting on the sensitive flesh. Your fingers carded through his hair as he did so, feeling completely at bliss. His strong arms wrapped around you and picked you up, setting you on the counter as his hands wandered south towards your Jean shorts. Your neighbor roughly unbuttoned them and you helped him take them off along with your matching panties. You noticed how he threw your panties on his pile of clothes.

But you didn’t take too long to dwell on it because he was licking you up and down at a medium, steady pace. You gripped his hair as he ate you out, flicking his tongue on your clit and collecting your arousal like it was his last meal.

“Ooh fuck, Bucky!” You moaned, eyes shut as you reveled in the pleasure. His strong, rough hands gripped your thighs as he pushed you further over the edge.

“You taste so good, baby.” The man muttered against your pussy as he continued his assault. Without warning you felt the waves crashing over you as you came with a scream of his name.

He smirked against you, lapping up all your juices before getting back up and kissing you again.

Then he put you back down and turned you over, bending you over the counter. And god, you loved being manhandled.

You felt the leaking tip of his cock being teased against your soaked entrance. “You want this cock?” He husked in your ear.

“Yes, god yes.” You breathed and gasped as soon as he entered you, stretching you out like you’ve never been stretched out before. He gripped your neck, pulling you back a little bit making your back arch as he pounded into you, hitting your g spot every time.

“You’re so fucking tight my god.” Bucky rolled his eyes as he felt the way you felt around his cock. He thrusted his hips at an almost inhuman pace, skin slapping against yours as he absolutely destroyed you. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Did your husband ever fuck you this good?”

“No! Fuck, no! You fuck me so good Bucky!” You cried out.

“I love when you scream my name holy shit.” You clenched around him and reached your high, screaming as you came. He came not long after you, pulling out and finishing on your lower back. He scooped up some of his cum with his finger and put to your mouth. In which you instinctively sucked it clean.

“Good girl. Such a hot fucking milf.” He said and you laughed.

This weekend is gonna be really fun.

#marvel x reader #marvel smut #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes smut #Bucky Barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #neighbor!bucky

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sweetestcaptainhughes · 9 months ago

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some days are harder than others - Jack Hughes

Word Count - 1.8K

Summary - Today is the anniversary of losing your favorite family member suddenly. Your solution push everyone away and pretend that today doesn't excist.

Warnings - talks about the grieving process and mentions losing an aunt.

Author's Note - Today is actually the anniversary of my Aunt passing, she was one of my favorite humans and I think I wrote this to try and get some feelings out and processes my overall emotions about today. My heart goes out to anyone who can relate to this piece of writing because it sucks having to live life without your favorite human by your side anymore.

Masterlist

Today is a hard day, it’s the anniversary of when your favorite family member passed away. Waking up in bed you were grateful it was a Saturday and you didn’t have to take off work because there was no way you were going to leave your bed today. All you could do was try to wrap your brain around the fact that an entire year has passed - 365 days - since one of your favorite human beings left this earth.Wishing for nothing except to wallow in your own pity for the day, but you knew that your boyfriend Jack would be here soon since it was Saturday. Every single Saturday consistently coming over after he was done with the boys at the gym. But you didn’t want Jack to come over today, you wanted to be alone. Jack and you have only been dating for 6 months and although he has heard stories of your aunt he never met her. Today was meant to be a day for you to mourn the person you lost and the fact that she never got to meet the love of your life, or be at your wedding, or meet your future kids. Jack is a great guy, but you feared he wouldn’t understand why you were upset about the fact that your aunt never got to meet him. Finally looking at your phone since you woke up, your eyes barely focusing on the time 10:33 AM, before closing again out of pure exhaustion due to crying so much the night before, the warmth of your sheets helping the lure of sleep claim you once again.

Opening your eyes again, waking up the banging of someone at your door. All you wanted to do was crawl further under your sheets and hide from the world, play pretend where your aunt was still alive even if your brain only believed it for a few seconds. But the banging continued, you knew Jack wouldn’t stop until you got up and came to the door or he got tired and used the emergency key you gave him last month.

“Y/N! If you don’t come soon I will use my key!” he threatened.

Shit I should have timed giving him that key until after today, you thought to yourself. Well since he plans on using it no point in me getting up. Pulling your comforter over your head, completely continuing your attempt to hide from the world around you. Taking a deep breath, as you heard Jack’s voice loud and clear along with his footsteps now.

“Baby where are you?” he asks, his footsteps getting closer to your bedroom. It would be so simple to use your voice and tell him you were in your room but your voice felt raw with the tears streaming down your face thinking about what you were doing this time a year ago.

Finally making his way to your bedroom, the door creaks as he opens it. “Y/N? Are you asleep, love.” he whispers, and it causes your voice to crack and a loud painful sob to be unleashed.Still hiding under the covers you feel the bed dip, meaning that Jack must have sat on the bed. The assumption you made, confirmed to be true when you felt his hand slide up and down your body trying to bring you comfort even though he didn’t know what was wrong. “Baby you’re scaring me, did I do something wrong?” his voice slightly creaking, suddenly your stomach dropped out of guilt for making Jack feel even slightly insecure.

“Nnn - no.” you answer once you stop yourself from crying so hard. Your voice scratched as your throat burned from all of your tears.

“What wrong babygirl?” he whispers scared if he raised his voice any louder you would start crying uncontrollably again. Slowly lifting the comforter off of you trying to catch a glimpse of your face. He swears his heart cracks a little, and his stomach drops when he sees how puffy and red your eyes are from crying, even though your hands are still covering most of your face. “Please tell me what I can do?” he begs.

“Can we cuddle?” you ask weakly, Jack’s face grows a full toothy grin at your request.

“Of course baby.” he gently says as he pulls the covers back to slide into the bed next to you. Jack laying on his back as you intangible your legs, half laying on top of him as your ear is pressed up against his chest, finding comfort in listening to his steady heartbeat. Jack lets you both lay there, he doesn’t speak, one hand playing with your hair, the other under your shirt lightly scratching your back. After a few moments, your body starts to relax for the first time that day. Closing your eyes allows yourself to be comforted by someone for the first time that day.

Jack must have felt your body relax, sleep calling your name because the last thing you heard before you fell back asleep was him whispering in your ear. “It’s okay baby, I’m here, I’ll be here when you wake up.” Feeling a gentle kiss on the crown of your head as you felt your body fully drift asleep.

Jack was true to his words, because the first thing you felt as you woke up was his grip on you and the first thing you heard was his little snores in your ears. Slightly moving to try and get a little more comfortable because your body felt glued to Jack’s, your arm was pinned under his back and it felt like pins and needles. Trying to get out of his grip must of been enough to stir Jack awake. He turned his body to the slide and slowly opened his eyes gently.

“Hi baby.” he whispers, sleep still clear in his eyes.

“Hi” you whisper back, finally getting your arm free and bringing it to lay between you and Jack.

“Can we talk about why you were so upset earlier?” he asks gently, taking his arms pulling you a little closer to him.

“It’s just what today is. That’s all ” you admit shyly. Jack’s eyebrows scrunch up in confusion as a slight frown gets put on his face.

“And what’s today?” the curiosity and confusion laced in his deep voice still covered from his nap.

Taking a deep breath through your nose and out your mouth preparing to speak out loud for the first time today, what got you so upset. “Remember how I told you about my aunt, the one who helped raise me, one of my favorite humans.” You pause waiting for Jack to acknowledge your words, once he needs you to continue. “ Well today is the one year anniversary of her death and I just -.” Your voice cracks as the tears start again.

Jack pulls you even closer, your head finding its home in the crock of his neck. “Shh it’s okay baby you don’t have to say anything else. It’s okay to miss her, I know you loved her by the way you still talk about her, it’s alright baby.” His voice is soft and free of judgment. “Shh it’s alright” he coos to you.

Staying in the crock of his neck, you move a little so you can speak. “It’s not just that Jacky. It’s that she was the most important person in my life for so long and such a big part of my life. I never thought there would be a day where she didn’t meet the love of my life or be at my wedding or be at the hospital for a child's birth. God how I wish she was still here”

Jack held you while he heard you talk out all of your thoughts and feelings. “But even more I wish she would have met you before she left. The things I would do to have one last phone call with her, one last hug, one last time she tells me “I love you, be a good sweetie.” The tears now blur your vision as you close your eyes and hide in Jack’s neck again. He squeezes you until it’s hard for you to breathe but somehow that brings you comfort as you let yourself grief your best friend.

“I am so sorry for my love.” he whispers. “And I’m so sorry I didn’t know what today was, I would have skipped the gym. And I know she meant so much to you. It’s normal for today to be hard. I wish I could have met her too but do you remember how we met?” he asks.

Now it was your turn to be confused, removing yourself from his neck and wiping your tears off your cheeks. “Yeah of course I do.” you mumble extremely confused about what the anniversary of your aunts death has to do with how you met Jack.

“Well I remember seeing this pretty girl at this little restaurant eating by herself.” Looking into your eyes as he starts to tell the story of how you two met.

“Jack, I know how we met. What does that have to do with my aunt?” your annoyance is clear in your voice as he chuckles.

“Well it was after your aunt had passed, you were at her favorite restaurant because you missed her and it was her birthday that day, her first heavenly birthday. And for some reason some restaurant that had been on my list to try since I moved to Hoboken I just happened to walk in that day.” he starts rambling and you really don’t understand where he’s going with his story.

Sighing you ask “Jack, what’s your point?”

A smile on his face, “my point is that for whatever reason I felt like the universe told me that day to go to the restaurant and you just happen to be there even though it was way out of your way on your drive home from work. And I know I never met your aunt in person, but maybe just maybe your aunt was watching over you that day and that’s why I felt the need to finally go to a restaurant that I had been meaning to try for 6 years.”

A large smile comes across your face as you understand his words, “Are you saying my aunt sent you to me?” a giggle coming off your lips.

“I’m not saying anything except that I know that somehow your aunt is still watching over you. There is no way that you can love someone the way you describe her love for you and not watch them and look after them in heaven baby.” Slowly coming down to kiss your forehead.

“I love you.” you whisper.

“I love you too, and you know grief isn't a simple baby, it’s okay that some days are harder than others.”

“I know.” laying your head on his chest again.

“What do you wanna do for the rest of the day baby?” he asks

“Can we just watch her favorite show and order takeout?”

“Of course baby anything you want.” he whispers as he grabs the remote from the bedside table.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes angst #jack hughes fluff #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils fanfic #new jersey devils imagine #jack hughes one shot #nhl angst #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #schwritingsjh86

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